Bonefish Blues by Steven Becker

they’ll be witnesses.”
    “No. I mean what now, like in the big picture. He just tried to kill us didn’t he?”
    Will didn’t want to go that far. Cody’s attempt may not have been homicidal, but it wasn’t a joke either. He wondered if it were just to beat on him and entertain his charter or if he knew they had found a stash of dead bodies and caught him fishing in the chum slick from them. “Maybe not kill us; more like scare us off.”
    “Well, it worked.” She moved to him.
    The embrace came naturally, but ended there. He held her, not sure if she was crying or not, but he was in favor of anything that avoided conversation, so he held on. After what felt like several long minutes, she pulled back and wiped at her eyes, streaked by her mascara. “I must look great.”
    “Actually, you do,” he said looking at her as she removed the rain jacket. 
    She smiled and wiped her eyes with her shirt. “Probably dry better without this.” 
     
    ***
     
    They waited an hour, sitting and talking about the island and what had gone on there. Will put out his theory about Braken and Scarface, the fish bag and Cody’s fishing spot and why he had been there tonight. Cody fished slack tide. He always came back quickly, with his boat filled. Under normal circumstances, fishermen relied on the moving water created by the tide change to move food and forage. In addition to the tide, they generally used a chum bag, sending scent and small pieces of bait into the current. After twenty minutes or so, fish were attracted to the slick and the real fishing began. But the chum, if you could call it that, coming from the pipeline was best served at slack tide, when Cody knew exactly where it would be. She nodded her head as he spoke. 
    “Ready?” he asked.
    “Yeah, hopefully he’s gone now,” she said eyes scanning the surrounding water. “We need to decide what to do about this. If you’re right and they are dumping bodies into the tanks, we need to get the sheriff involved. I’ll call environmental health in the morning and tell them about the broken pipe.” 
    “Sounds good. But something is still bothering me.”
    “There’s more?”
    “Why the land scam - and why now?” Will put out the untied link.
    “The market has come back from its low a few years ago and interest in the sustainable thing they are trying to sell is through the roof. Why not now?”
     He nodded, turned the engine on and lifted the pole from the suction of the sand. Slowly he turned toward shore and started moving off the flat. Once clear of the shallow water, he pushed down on the throttle and headed for the canal entrance, invisible in the dark. Will went slowly hoping that Cody would be in the bar by the time they pulled in and he could avoid another confrontation. He became more uneasy as they approached the marina. His fears were realized when they pulled within a hundred yards of the dock and heard loud voices. Intoxicated from the beer, their catch, and the chase, the tourists from Cody’s charter were sitting on the dock drinking from red solo cups when Will rounded the corner and headed toward his slip. He looked up at the cleaning hut and saw Matt bent over a pile of fish. Cody was nowhere in sight as he tied off the boat.
    “I’m freezing. Can I take a rain check on dinner?”
    Will was relieved. Maybe he could sneak her off the dock and be out of here before Cody found out that they were back. “I’ll catch up to you tomorrow. Maybe I can meet you on your break and we can file a police report. We should do that together.”
    “That’d be good. I’ll call you.”
    She hopped onto the dock. He watched as she walked away, wondering if she would actually call. After everything that happened in the last few hours he wouldn’t blame her is she filed a couple of anonymous reports with the authorities and forgot about him. Maybe that was the best way for him as well. File a report with the police and go to ground until Cody