7

Reymundo Cruz steered his Cheoy Lee Trawler past the large tankers anchored in the protected area of Galveston Bay known as Bolivar Roads. As he cleared the north jetty, he turned south/southeast on a heading for Key West. He would take the night shift as it required a sharp lookout for rigs and oil industry traffic in the Gulf of Mexico. He didn’t trust his crew. If there was one oil platform within twenty miles, they would hit it.

Reymundo was curious about what the two men who were forced on him as crew were up to. He’d heard some noise from below, but now all was quiet. He hoped both the guys had decided to get some sleep. It had been a long trip – nearly six days – from Miami to the west end of Cuba to Seabrook, Texas, where they’d unloaded their unique cargo.

The chubby Cuban girl was still on board. He hoped she was okay. He’d heard one of his crew, a nasty Cuban-American named Gorgonio, yelling that he was going to kill the bitch. Reymundo had heard him say it many times over the past six days. He was always threatening to kill someone. Reymundo had not been overly concerned when he heard the threat earlier in the evening, but he didn’t like having her on board. She should've gotten off with the others. That had been the plan. When they wouldn’t take her, he should’ve left her. He could have put her on the dock after the men in the SUVs drove off with the other girls. He could have left her when they refueled.

Reymundo contemplated the best place to put her ashore. The Keys would be the closest, but Miami was more logical. Miami would be the best place to drop the girl off. Miami was home to more Cubans than Cuba. She could find help there. He would talk with her and convince her to forget what she’d witnessed the past few days. It would be risky, but it was the least he could do for her.

He sat on the flybridge, peering into the darkness, thinking about Jana. It had been six days since she was driven off by the man who had forced Reymundo to make the delivery.

Gorgonio stepped onto the bridge and interrupted his thoughts. “We may have a problem Cap,” he said, still rubbing the sleep from his face. Although Reymundo didn’t have a captain’s license, his new crew called him captain, or some variation thereof.

“What’s that?” Reymundo asked, not turning to look at Gorgonio.

“Can’t find the bitch.”

Reymundo faced the man but said nothing.

“I’ve looked everywhere. She was in the forward cabin last night. I’ve checked the heads, galley, engine room, staterooms, everywhere. She’s not on the boat.”

Reymundo didn’t hide his anger well and he didn’t like Gorgonio, who he felt was slicker than a cat’s ass and twice as nasty.

“What’d you do to her?”

“Nuthin. I swear.”

“You’ve checked everywhere?”

“Of course. There’re only so many places on this boat a person could hide. She’s not here.”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“Last night. About dark. We’d just about cleared the end of the jetties. It was around eight-thirty or nine. She was in the forward cabin. That’s where I left her. I went and laid on the sofa in the main salon and fell asleep.”

“Where’s Nestor?”

“He’s asleep in the main salon too. He was asleep the last time I saw the girl.”

“Gorgonio.” Reymundo took deep breaths. “What’d you do to the girl? Did you kill her? I heard you last night. You said you were going to kill her.”

“I swear. I didn’t kill her.”

“Why’d you say it?”

“I wanted to scare her so she’d be easier to handle.”

“What do mean, ‘easier to handle’? She did as we asked. For the last time, what did you do with her?”

Gorgonio rubbed his face and looked around the bridge and out at the gulf. When he wouldn’t look Reymundo in the eye, Reymundo grabbed the man by the throat, lifted, and pinned him against the flybridge’s outside wall.

“Okay,” he gurgled. Reymundo loosened his grip so the man could continue. “I may have gotten a little off her.”

“Jesus Christ!” Reymundo slammed the man to the ground. “You raped the girl? You threatened to kill her? She must’ve jumped off the boat while you were asleep. You realize she’s dead. You killed her. I should throw your ass off the boat and let you join her.”

Gorgonio bowed up, still trying to catch his breath. “I didn’t think she’d jump. Who cares? She wasn’t worth shit. They didn’t even want her. You touch me, Rafael will kill your lady.”

The comments infuriated Reymundo but Gorgonio was right. If he threw him overboard, the little man, who Reymundo now knew as Rafael, would likely kill Jana. It was not a trade worth considering. There would be a time and a place for taking care of all three of them.

“What’d you expect her to do after you raped her? You think she’d lay there and wait for you to come back for seconds?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think.” Gorgonio was now sitting upright, still catching his breath.

“How far out were we when you left her?”

“I’m not sure. It was starting to get dark. The bay was getting choppier too. I’d say we were right near the end of the jetty. Maybe she’s still on the boat, hiding somewhere.”

“I hope to God she made it to the rocks and somebody found her. I’d hate to think we were responsible for the girl drowning. Problem is, if she made it, she’ll probably talk. If she talks, she’ll tell them what you did to her and about the girls we brought in.” Reymundo paused. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”

Reymundo was seething, but they needed to get back to Miami. “Get up and take the watch. Autopilot is on. The course is programmed in. Only turn it off if we’re heading toward a rig or ship. Steer around whatever it is and turn the autopilot back on. Try not to screw up. When Nestor wakes up, take turns on the watch. I’ll be in my cabin.”

Reymundo had started to calm down, but he was still angry when he used the head and washed his hands. It had been an interesting run since he bought the Cheoy Lee. He was thinking it might be time to go back to the fishing charters and just live on the boat. Hopefully, with Jana. No more escort parties.