Sensing no movement, he moved to the salon door and stopped. Nothing. He quickly stepped to the left and right. No movement at all. He could probably jump up and down and nothing would happen, but he had no intention of doing anything but move slowly and steadily through the boat. There was nothing normal or natural about a sailboat suspended in the air.
Devin found the salon door unlocked and slid it open. He was greeted by a stale, mildewy odor that he assumed to be normal for compact space that gets aired out a couple of times a year at most. The interior, a combination of deep-stained wood, light-blue cushions, and white vinyl flooring, was well lit from the sunlight pouring through the long, narrow windows on each side of the salon. The galley was directly below the door, a few steps down a short wooden ladder. Easy enough.
He lowered himself into the galley and opened the lowest of three drawers next to the sink, removing a hefty gray waterproof pouch that took up most of the space in the drawer. Devin sat gently on the edge of the starboard-side couch and unzipped the pouch, placing its contents on the cushion next to him.
A handwritten note signed by his mother. A key chain with three brass house keys. A very high-end touch screen satellite phone. A manila file folder with metal fasteners holding together several typed pages. A little lighter than he expected. Two rubber-banded bundles of cash. Twenties and hundreds. Easily ten thousand dollars, if he had to guess. Much more than he expected. He wasn’t encouraged by the fact that the money piled up higher than the file.
He started with the note.
Devin, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that there’s more than a hundred dollars in the pouch. You can walk away right now and take a really nice vacation, which might sound like an attractive option after you hear the bad news. Before I get to that, please deliver the mailer to your father. It’s a copy of my will, life insurance policy, and assets. Along with my estate attorney’s contact information.
What’s the bad news? I’m dead. Sorry. I couldn’t resist. Ye olde gallows humor. Had to get one last joke in. The bad news is that the file in your hands is just the 30,000-foot view. You’ve probably guessed that much by the size of the file. There’s simply no way to adequately explain or represent what I’ve assembled over the past two decades. I apologize for misrepresenting the size of Sadie’s treasure, but I couldn’t take the chance that you might not take the SDR seriously—and lead them to the source. Go ahead. Roll your eyes. But read the file and consider taking one more step in this journey, assuming you took the SDR seriously. Please don’t execute the next paragraph if you’re not entirely sure they didn’t follow you. Did they try?
The next step, if you choose: Power the satellite phone. I inserted a fully charged battery a few weeks ago. Find “Mom” in contacts and give me a call. I’ll reveal the location of the Bat Cave. I actually have one, if you consider a dingy apartment in a sketchy neighborhood a proper secret lair. There’s beer in the fridge and harder stuff if you need it . . . you might after you see what I’ve been working on. Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.
Love you, Mom
“Love you, too,” he said, his eyes watering.
PS: Ask Frank about my car. I highly suggest you swap vehicles.
PPS: Don’t skip out on lunch at Cantler’s. A friend of mine may join you. You can trust him.
So . . . now what? Continue the quest? An untraceable car would definitely make things a little easier, but he wasn’t sure about meeting with anybody until he got a better handle on what his mother suspected she had uncovered. Then again, what did he have to lose? He could always walk away from whoever showed up.
“Why the hell not?” he muttered, stuffing the file and the pouch into his backpack.
On his way back to the Cantler’s parking lot, he spotted Frank near the marina’s boat ramp, where he’d just hauled what looked like a mini sailboat out of the water. Two middle school–age kids wearing orange life jackets helped him drag it onto a small trailer. Devin headed in their direction. When Frank saw him, he patted one of the kids on the shoulder and told them he’d finish securing the boat. They headed for the dock, where he assumed a much larger boat and eager-to-please parents awaited them.
“Now that looks more my speed,” said Devin.
Frank laughed. “We’ll have to start you with something a little bigger if you plan on fixing up your boat. How did it look?”
“You really think you could fix her up by the end of the summer?”