“Look you know it, and I know it, but these boys from Sicily live in their own little world. And it’s a dark world.”
“That’s another thing. I want a percentage of what you make from this. I want to be treated like a full partner when it comes time to sell it.”
“If it were up to me, I’d be fine with it. The mob will never go for it, though.”
“And what’s keeping the mob from doing the two of you in?”
“Jake and I have the connections to sell a lot of the product. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be surprised to be at the wrong end of a gun. For all I know, they still might find a reason to do us anyway. Like I’ve told you, Jake and I are just too far in to get out now.”
“If that’s the case, and either you or Jake fuck up, all of us — you and me — will be running for the rest of our lives. Another reason I want five percent of the gross.”
“Never happen. You’ll end up floating up on the beach just like that other dealer. I can assure you of that.”
“But I was told...”
“Well, whatever. Whatever it takes for you to get the job done.”
“Well then, I guess we’re in business then.”
“Depends on what the men in black have to say,” replied Hewlett. “What are you going to tell you the people at the FBO?”
“You mean that scarecrow of a woman who chain smokes, has creases on her face like a fifteen year old Shar-Pei?”
“That would be the one. I’ll just tell her I’m going to the Primitive Area of Idaho.”
“Outside Boise?”
“The primitive area is north and east of Boise. Most of it is wilderness. No roads, nothing. They have more backcountry strips than anywhere else in the Lower Forty-eight. Each year some rich customer from Florida wants to go elk hunting up there. I can tell people that I just took the client up there to look at the campsite and look for any elk.”
Outside, it was nauseatingly warm. The migraine that started when he arrived at Skeeter’s hanger had gone away, only to fully flower again. When they got this bad, light bothered his eyes, and he became nauseous. With his current migraine, the bright sunlight stung his eyes, and he squinted as he walked over to his antiquated BMW. On the dashboard were his sunglasses. They did little to assuage his headache. The heat and the bright light of the punishing sun made his headache more intense, and the more intense it grew, the more nauseated he became. After driving twenty or thirty feet in Davis’ parking lot, it all became too much. He stopped the BMW in the parking lot, opened the door and promptly vomited. He dabbed at his mouth and chin with his handkerchief. On the radio, they were playing Menudo. How appropriate. All that summer, all one heard each hour, was Menudo.
Chapter Three
Jake Townsend was not a happy man. Nor was he a man to keep his feelings to himself. Compared to his cousin, Hewlett was two or three inches shorter, but whereas Townsend was thin through the shoulders with a pensioner’s slouch. Hewlett looked as though he might have just come off the football pitch. Though possessing a full head of dirty blonde hair like his cousin’s, Townsend’s was even more full of curls — curls that his mothers’ friends could not help but tousle whenever Townsend was in close proximity.
While Hewlett graduated summa cum laude at Dartmouth, Jake Townsend struggled through the ranks at the University of Texas, matriculating in college just to avoid being drafted into the military and sent to Vietnam where the war was winding down like the end of a Kabuki play. Townsend had light blond hair that he kept fashionably long, wearing a mustache that made him look like the main character’s friend in a “B” movie. Looks, though, could be deceptive. Hewlett was always friendly, helpful and outgoing. Given to erratic moods, shifting like a weather vane in a tropical storm, Townsend at one moment could be cheerful and the next dour and spiteful. Not infrequently he erupted when frustrated, leaving friends, colleagues and staff stung. Once subjected to one of Townsend’s mood swings, they kept their distance from him in the future. Hewlett, however, having known his so long, had learned to tolerate the man. When not at work together, the two often jogged together and moved in the same social circles. Clusters of friends would often light up at the sight of Hewlett, whereas they felt they were walking on eggs when Townsend appeared. Though Jacob Townsend liked to think of himself the head of their small operation, it was really Hewlett who was the brains. The one who made final decisions when it came to moving product. Originally working for the firm Hauser, Longo and Fauci together, it had been almost two years since they had broken off from the large money management firm and started their own brokerage operation, calling their firm the West Beach Investment Corporation.
Taking their breakfast together at a diner down the street from their offices, Jake characteristically exploded when he found out how much Davis demanded for his flying services. “You know where he can shove it!”
“Jake, Jake, hold on. I can understand his reasons. It’s a tremendous haul. If something goes wrong no one walks away. He wants this to be his ride into the sunset. He’s had a long career and wants to go out a winner. There’s also a history between the two of you. You never completely reimbursed him for the work he did for you last winter. Something off the books I didn’t even know about.”
“You were up in Aspen.”
“I was in Vail. You had my number. Our ‘friends’ find out about this, there will be consequences.”
“An associate of Scruffy’s came to me with a small deal while you were gone. Scruffy knew a pilot. It just happened to be Davis. It was just a matter of hauling up some product from the Dominican Republic. It was only marijuana. Like the old days. I was to make a twenty percent share in the profits.”
“Did you tell Rosario?”
“Not in so many words.”
“Oh, I bet you he already knows. There’s not enough coming to us now?”
“Like I said, it was just a small deal.”
Wanting to say something sarcastic, Hewlett bit his tongue. “Let’s get back to the present. Sooner or later they are going to hear about it. If this goes well, they may just be vexed. You don’t fuck with their people.” For the next several minutes, they discussed the logistics of the operation. Both of them expected a large financial landfall from the deal. Though Hewlett had not given any thought to how or when he would spend his money that had taken some months to set up, Townsend had already decided to buy a boat. When Hewlett heard this, he groaned. Townsend undoubtedly wanted something that would stir a jealous eye at the Palm Beach Yacht Club. Townsend told him that he’d already had his eye on a sailboat that was up for sale. “It had teakwood decks,” he informed his cousin.
“Jake, I love you because you’re my cousin and my friend. But for God’s sake, don’t buy anything which draws attention to us.”
“For once, don’t give me grief about what I buy! It’s not your money.”
“But it’s my ass if the DEA decides to look into our after hours trading. You always have to have the best, the most expensive. Buy your boat if you want, but be discreet about it. More discrete than that Beechcraft Bonanza you wanted or the Maserati you drove home that one time.”
“Well you made me swear off airplanes, and you made me return the Maserati.”
“I