Collateral Damage A Matt Royal Mystery - By H. Terrell Griffin Page 0,3

Keys. The Dulcimer dinner boat just ran hard aground. I can hear screams coming from the passengers. It looks as if several are in the water. I’ll try to pick them up.”

“I’m sending boats, Recess. Stand by on channel sixteen.”

“Recess, standing by sixteen.”

I was shining my spotlight on three heads bobbing in the water. I eased Recess toward them, put the engines in idle, and drifted. Logan was at the stern, the transom door open, the ladder down, a boat pole in his hand. He helped bring the waterlogged people aboard, told them to sit down on the cockpit floor. Logan dug into the bag of towels in the cabin and gave one to each of our passengers.

I kept the spotlight moving, but didn’t see any more heads. Some of the passengers had apparently gone overboard from the open deck when the boat ran aground. Several of them were standing near the bow, the water up to their knees.

“The Coast Guard is coming,” I called to them. “Stay where you are.”

Less than ten minutes after my radio call to the Coast Guard, I heard sirens whooping in the distance. I looked to the north and saw two boats, blue lights flashing, racing toward us. The Coast Guard station was only a couple of miles north of our position.

I picked up my microphone. “Coast Guard Cortez, this is Recess.”

“Recess, this is United States Coast Guard Cortez.”

“Coast Guard, this is Recess. I have three people aboard, no casualties. I’m standing by near the stern of Dulcimer. I see your boats approaching.”

“Standby, Recess.

“Roger, Coast Guard.”

I turned to the people we’d brought aboard. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” said a middle-aged lady, shivering in a towel-draped sundress. “We were on the top deck when the lights went out and the next thing I knew, we were in the water.”

The other woman and the man with them murmured agreement.

I watched as the Coast Guard boats pulled alongside Dulcimer. Men in blue uniforms boarded carrying flashlights. I waited, playing with the throttles, keeping Recess in the middle of the channel, awaiting orders.

After a few minutes I heard a motor turn over, the sound coming from Dulcimer. Then the lights came on and music again played over the water. One of the Coasties had gotten the generator working. The music stopped. The gay evening was over. Time for the work to begin; to find out what happened.

I heard a siren and saw a boat coming from the south, blue lights announcing another law enforcement vessel. It was the Longboat Key Police boat. The cop at the helm recognized my boat and pulled alongside.

“What the hell happened, Matt?”

I told him what I’d seen and that I’d picked up the three passengers from the water.

“I’ve been listening on the radio,” he said. “I’ve got ambulances coming to Moore’s. We can offload any injured at the docks there.”

“You’ve got some people in the water up by the bow,” I said. “They’re going to start getting cold.”

“I’ll go get them. Why don’t you get these folks names and take them to Moore’s so the paramedics can take a look.”

He went around me and moved slowly into the shallows to pick up the people on the sandbar. I crossed the channel running almost due west, past the southern tip of Jewfish Key and across the lagoon to Moore’s Stone Crab Restaurant. I saw a sea of flashing blue lights in the parking lot. I maneuvered into the dock and cut the engines. Logan and I helped our passengers off the boat and turned them over to the paramedics.

“You ready for a drink?” I asked Logan.

“Damn right.”

I picked up the microphone. “Coast Guard Cortez, this is Recess.”

“This is United States Coast Guard Cortez.”

“This is Recess. I’ve dropped my three passengers off at Moore’s with the paramedics. I’ll be inside in case your people need to talk to me.”

“Recess, did you get their names?

I gave them to her, told her my cell phone number, signed off, and headed for the bar.

CHAPTER FOUR

It was late by the time the Coast Guard accident investigator called me. He’d had to drive down from St. Petersburg. He told me that they’d inspected Dulcimer and didn’t think there was any structural damage. Just a bit of bottom paint scraped off the bow where it ran up on the sandbar. They’d kept the passengers aboard and were going to tow the boat back to its dock at the restaurant. Other than a few scrapes and bruises, there did not seem to