Twenty-Three

 

 

 

 

 

While Colt handled the stress his way, Naomi plotted the party, but not the obvious one she’d mentioned. With Colt’s birthday a lead up to Christmas, it seemed logical to make it a festive occasion where the people who cared about him the most would be on hand to help him celebrate.

But like many things this time of year, she went overboard with her plans. After all, it was the season of giving. There was no getting around it, though, she invited practically everyone she knew. The girls had even helped bake two cakes, one chocolate and one vanilla. But getting them to keep her secret had been a bigger chore than she’d expected.

Maddie was the biggest problem. The five-year-old adored Colt and wanted nothing more than to tell him what was going on. A time or two she almost let it slip. But Naomi managed to run interference.

There was no way her small house could hold the entire guest list. Thanks to a tip from Isabella Delacourt, she learned that the keeper’s cottage near the lighthouse could be used as a community gathering place. Since the venue had been trashed by the frat boy, Naomi spearheaded a cleanup drive where Drea and Zach pitched in to spruce the place up—in secret. From there, her plan included getting Brent to somehow lure Colt to the spot for the big surprise reveal.

Brent promised he would come up with a good enough ruse to get Colt there on time. Sure enough, when the big day arrived, Naomi and the girls waited in the great room with everyone else. Dressed in their party best—Naomi wore her black cocktail dress and the girls wore new outfits in red and gold. The giddy mood around them guaranteed success.

Colt, still in his blue uniform, walked in the front door expecting to catch a burglar in the act; instead a jam-packed room yelled surprise.

“You had to know I was doing this,” Naomi bellowed over the din, as she caught him up in a hug and the girls bounced up and down next to him on their toes.

“The cars in the parking lot were a big giveaway,” Colt admitted. “I kept wondering why a burglar would pick such a crowded place to rob.”

“Ah, I figured that might end up being the biggest tell of all, but there was no other place for anyone to park.”

“Plus…” Colt began in a whisper so only Naomi could hear, “Maddie let the cat out of the bag a week ago when I was putting her to bed. And then you guys never mentioned my birthday at breakfast this morning…so…I knew my mole was onto something.”

Naomi giggled with laughter. “No one can say I didn’t try.” 

“Hey, I’m thrilled you’d go to so much trouble.”

“Everyone you know is here,” Naomi stated, pointing to Gretchen Bremmer. “She’s a very classy lady, Colton.”

Colt grinned. “Yeah. She always calls me that. I’ve never been able to get her to use plain ol’ Colt. What is she doing here anyway? Why isn’t she back in Rhode Island?”

“Why don’t you go ask her?” Naomi prompted.

Colt made a beeline for Simon’s mother, standing with a man he presumed was John Dickinson.

When Gretchen held out a cheek, Colt dutifully fixed a kiss there. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t think I’d miss your birthday party, did you?”

“I guess I still thought you were packing up.”

“Heavens no. The movers finished loading up everything last weekend.” She wrapped an arm around her escort. “Colton, I want you to meet John. He’s one of the reasons I gave up Rhode Island to live here.”

The two men shook hands, but it was Colt who said, “Then I guess we owe you a big thank you for getting Gretchen to the West Coast.”

“It’s my pleasure. I just dangled good old-fashioned love in front of her. At our age…it’s hard to come by.”

“At any age,” Gretchen corrected. “We arrived in town two days ago and have been settling in. What’s this I see, Colton? You’re in uniform again. The man I think of as a son doesn’t even bother to call anymore and give me an update now and again?”

Only Gretchen Bremmer could make him feel like a kid again. “I knew you had your hands full back in Newport with the house. As for the job, I just sort of fell into it, I guess.”

“Uh-huh. You just keep telling yourself that. And I see you have yourself a family, your very own family, Colton. What’s that about? To say I was shocked when it happened to Simon, is an understatement, but seeing you with a family…it’s like I’ve experienced my first California quake.”

“You mean this thing with Naomi? It just sort of…happened, too.”

“Oh, baby, nothing just happens, not something as important as love and family. Look at those girls, they’re gorgeous. And Naomi called me personally to let me know about the party a week ago. I like her, Colton. A lot.” She tightened her hold on John’s arm. “We’ll have our hands full here, won’t we, John?”

“More grandkids to spoil,” John added with a wink. “Gretchen can’t wait to get started. She’s already planned a huge Christmas Eve party just for all the kids. I’m thinking of dressing up as Santa. I’m trying to get her to go for Mrs. Claus.”

“That’s never going to happen, John. Now where’s Simon and Gilly?” Gretchen asked, glancing around the room.

Colt scanned the crowd. “No idea. I haven’t talked to Gilly since the night they got back in town. All I know is that Simon told me he had a tour booked for today.”

Naomi motioned for him to speed things up and mingle with the other guests.

“Looks like I’m being told to circulate.”

“That’s being a good birthday boy and a good host,” Gretchen said, patting him on the cheek. “You look happy, Colton. I’m so glad you’re living here in town now, right where you belong.”

“Right back at you,” Colt stated as he gave her another peck on the cheek before moving to the next couple waiting to wish him a happy birthday.

The line of well-wishers included some people he didn’t know very well, like Ophelia and Seth, and Thane and Isabella. Folks were nice, but despite that, a bout of self-consciousness hit him. He’d never been the center of attention quite like this before and wasn’t sure how to act. He wasn’t sure if small talk would cut it. But then he spotted Drea and Zach.

“I never told you how much I love my new loft,” Drea gushed. “You and Zach made such a good team together. I hope you know he misses you.”

Zach shook his head. “Leave it to Drea to carry on so. The truth is, I’ve never had a member of the crew who was able to get me to open up the way you did. Plus, if not for you, Drea and I wouldn’t be giving it another shot.”

More in his comfort zone now, Colt slapped his friend on the back. “It didn’t take a genius to see you still cared about her. It was the eyes that gave you away.”

“Whatever it was, we’re grateful,” Drea crooned. “You made us realize what was important.”

Colt recognized Hayden and Ethan Cody standing nearby and turned to say hello. They even talked about getting Maddie and Nate together for that play date. He chatted with Cord and Keegan about the Rescue Center and agreed that Tibby seemed genuinely interested in the animals.

“Maybe she’ll become a marine biologist,” Keegan suggested.

“That’s an idea,” Colt said, spotting Naomi in the crowd. He managed to break free and headed her way as she huddled with Nick and Jordan, talking a mile a minute.

“This is some crowd. How’d you get so many people here? Half of them I don’t even know.”

Naomi slipped her arm through his. “You’ve helped a lot of people out in the short time you’ve been on the force. I heard from Mrs. Pettibone how you rescued her cats from Barton Pearson’s two poodles.”

Colt leaned in and lowered his voice. “At last count, Mrs. Pettibone has eleven cats. There’s no way she keeps track of them all.”

Distracted, Colt didn’t see Gilly come in and barrel past all the other guests, stopping only when she reached Gretchen and John. He missed Gilly whispering something in her mother-in-law’s ear, the news making Gretchen look around in a panic for Colt.

“We’ll tell him together,” Gretchen said to Gilly, linking their arms in support. Spotting Colt across the room talking to Ryder McLachlan, Gretchen plowed through the crowd with Gilly in tow, steering her course straight for Colt.

“Sorry to interrupt like this, but Gilly and I need to speak to Colton. It’s urgent.”

Colt excused himself from Ryder and took Gretchen and Gilly to a corner of the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”

Gilly’s words all ran together. “You have to help me. Us. Simon’s missing. He went out this morning on a trip with two men who claimed to be fishermen. I don’t think they were and neither did Simon. But he took the booking anyway. I haven’t heard from him since before noon. He always texts or calls when he’s going to be late. There’s been nothing. I’m worried sick.”

Gilly looked around knowing she’d interrupted the festivities. Her eyes landed on Naomi standing a few feet away. “I’m sorry for this. I am. I don’t mean to ruin Colt’s birthday. But I need him to find Simon.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Naomi assured her. “Both of you should sit down and catch your breath.”

Gretchen leaned against the counter, her knees wobbly. “I don’t think I can sit. I don’t want to ruin Colton’s party either, but if anyone can find out what’s happened to Simon, it has to be Colton.” She took his hand, squeezed his fingers. “Go find him, Colton. Please.”

“Where was Simon taking these fishermen?” Colt asked. “Did he mention a destination?”

Gilly rubbed at the pain in her temples. “I honestly wasn’t paying much attention. The kids were acting up and I wasn’t listening fully when he walked out the door. That was seven, maybe ten after. I only know that when he called a little before noon, they were in the vicinity of Treasure Island. That much I’m sure of because he mentioned the men were growing upset about where he’d taken them. I’m not sure why.”

Colt remembered how Simon had mentioned the spit of landmass before, usually when he took out novices to fish. “Treasure Island is within sight of the shoreline. Okay. That’s a starting point. The Sea Dragon is equipped with GPS. That could help track where the boat went. Don’t worry, I’ll find him.”

“We,” Cord added, slapping Colt on the back. “We’ll take the Moonlight Mile. She hauls ass now that we got the engine overhauled.”

The Moonlight Mile was a fifty-foot renovated fishing trawler that Keegan used as her marine research vessel.

Naomi rubbed a hand across Colt’s back. “I know you have to go. I’ll explain to the girls why you had to leave. But please be careful out there.”

He kissed the top of her head and then leaned his mouth down to hers. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know.”

“Good, because I love what you did here for me. Never had a party like this before. But I have to find Simon.”

“I know that, too.”

Turning to Cord, Colt muttered, “Let’s move. Time’s wasting.”

Keegan caught them before they disappeared out the door. “I’m going with you.”

“Not this time,” Cord said. “This isn’t like looking for a sea lion.”

“I know that, but I can steer the boat while you and Colt scan the area for Simon. Besides, it is my research vessel.”

“She’s got you there, pal,” Colt pointed out. “Just decide something or I’m going without both of you.”

Cord relented. “Fine.”

Having not heard any of the prior conversations, Brent came up to them holding a sandwich he’d taken from the platter on the table. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Colt briefed the chief as he grabbed his jacket.

All business now, Brent put down the plate, but kept the sandwich. “I’ll get the word to Eastlyn and meet you at dockside.”

Colt got all the way to the porch before Maddie, dressed in her red party dress, ran up tugging on his coattails. “Don’t let the bad men hurt you, okay?”

“I won’t. Now go back inside and take care of Nomi and Tibby for me, okay?”

“Okay. I wuv you.”

“I love you back,” Colt returned, lifting her off her feet to plant a kiss on her nose. He plopped her down again, lightly swatted her behind and said, “Go back inside and save me a piece of cake.”

As he settled behind the wheel of his cruiser, it occurred to him that he’d never had so many people in one room care so deeply about him. That was family, ready-made, but all his. He realized he wouldn’t change a single thing about Naomi or his kids. His kids. He let that sink in while he flipped the lights on the patrol car and headed to the pier, pulling up next to Cord and Keegan.

While those two readied the trawler, Eastlyn parked beside him and began to unload several weapon packs and other equipment.

“Change of plans. I’m taking the chopper. There’s no reason not to, it’s a clear night with a full moon. Want to be my second pair of eyes from the air? I’ll let you work the spotlight.”

Colt grinned. “You bet I do.”

“Not me. I’m sticking with the boat,” Brent grunted as he walked down the wharf to board the trawler.

Eastlyn shook her head. “The boss doesn’t like flying.”

“I’d rather fly than get stuck on a boat,” Colt declared. “Is the chopper airborne ready? Or do you have to go through a checklist?”

“I check her out every single morning. She’s always ready to fly,” Eastlyn fired back. “If Bremmer’s out there, we’ll find him. The tough part about looking for anyone who goes missing at sea, in the dark of night, is always about lack of visibility. Ask Keegan. She has just as tough a time locating an injured seal at night as we will locating Bremmer. But I’ll take the air over the sea anytime.”

“I’m with you there,” Colt said as they crossed the wharf to the helipad.

The chopper, a Sioux three-seater, single engine with a bubble canopy, was forever famous as the MASH helicopter seen on the TV show. It was Eastlyn’s pride and joy.

Colt settled in on the passenger side, staring at the instrumentations stack. “This thing really flies?”

“You’d be surprised what this ‘thing’ can do,” Eastlyn said, lifting off and heading north. At seventy knots, she hit cruising speed, flying low over the coastline. “At the five-mile point, I’ll turn west. Meanwhile, you keep that spotlight on the water until we get to the Island.”

They flew over the Moonlight Mile sailing out of the harbor at full throttle. “So you don’t like water any more than I do?”

“Is that why you didn’t join the Navy?”

“You guessed it. I’d go crazy in a sardine can miles out to sea away from land.” He picked up the pair of night vision goggles, testing the view out on the water.

“I knew I liked you for a reason,” Eastlyn maintained, pitching the helicopter into a westerly heading. 

“Does Cooper worry about you going up like this at night?”

“Yes, and it took some getting used to. That was early on though, right after we hooked up. I used to dread looking across the table at his face, contorted into nervous concern every time I got a call. I thought getting married would help. It didn’t. He still got antsy. I wasn’t used to that. Before I met him, I didn’t have to worry about anyone but myself. Now…”

“Same here. What did you do about it?”

“Me? Nothing. The job becomes routine. The longer I’m with Cooper, the more he realizes I’m trained to do a job and I’m good at it.”

“So if the kids begin to see that I’m capable, they’ll stop getting upset?”

“Like I said, that’s the prevailing theory.” She nosed the helicopter down closer to the water. “Remember all those guys in the Army who were married, and we used to wonder how their families handled the deployments and the long-distance relationships? Well, they knew something we didn’t. After a while, it just becomes routine,” Eastlyn parroted. “You do what you do on automatic. You know that. You look through that rifle scope…and wham…you eradicate the target. Repetition is the military way of life. You did it for sixteen years. Why do you ask all this? Are you having issues with the kids or Naomi?”

“Naomi seems to handle it. The kids not so much.” He shifted in his seat to continue scanning the waves. “Nothing yet, just a lot of whitecaps.”

“Nothing on my side either.” She let out a sigh. “The kids, they’ll get used to it. May take them a year or so, but they’ll realize when you walk out that door, you’ll come back.”

“You really believe that?”

“You gotta believe it. Otherwise, what’s the alternative, have them bite their nails and send them into a frenzy every time you leave the house?” She shifted in her seat and added, “We’re coming up on the Island. I’ll keep to a westerly heading. Get ready to give me a visual from the landmass, okay?” 

“Roger that.”

They circled Treasure Island five times. On the sixth pass, Colt spotted a foreign oblong object. “Go down lower.”

“I get any lower, I’ll land.”

“Then do it. Pick a spot as close as you can. I think that’s him. His body’s half in the water, half on the sand. You radio the others, I’ll make my way down the beach and check. It could be nothing more than a washed up, dead…” That’s as far as he got, before Eastlyn set the helicopter down on a rocky stretch of seashore.

He hopped out. Running double-time in the sand seemed to take forever. But as Colt grew closer, he recognized Simon’s blond hair. He turned him over and that’s when he saw the shirt soaked with blood.

Colt ticked off details to Eastlyn through his headset as he surveyed the situation. “Gunshot wound looks like some part of the ribcage, maybe the chest area. Two entry wounds. But I have a pulse and he’s still breathing. Lost a lot of blood, though. Come on, Simon, keep breathing. You’re not gonna die like this. I’m not gonna let you die.”

Eastlyn jumped out, dragging a stretcher behind her, but she was also talking into her own headset to the rest of the crew on the boat. “Get a doctor standing by. We’re loading up now.”

Eastlyn had to stop Colt from starting CPR. “Won’t help much with gunshot wounds. He has a pulse, so we load up! Now! Strap him in so we can get airborne. ETA ten minutes.”

“Hang on, Simon,” Colt said as everything clicked on automatic. Instincts and training kicked in. He and Eastlyn moved as a team, programmed to respond just as they would in any other emergency with any other injured party. But it all seemed like slow motion. They couldn’t move fast enough. They worked in silence securing the litter, hopping back on board when they were done. Neither exchanged a word as Eastlyn lifted the crate off the ground and headed back to town.

The two didn’t speak until they reached the hospital where Simon was wheeled behind a curtain for emergency treatment.

“I’m getting coffee out of the vending machine,” Eastlyn mumbled. “Want some?”

“Sure. But I need to stand here and wait for Gretchen and Gilly, though.”

“No problem. Better you than me.”

Colt knew what she meant. He’d have to describe Simon’s condition to Gretchen and Gilly. The two women would surely want details. It was gut-wrenching to watch them walk into the waiting room and know it was up to him to go over the specifics.

Gilly turned to Colt. “You saw him. What do you think? Will he make it?”

“Simon’s a fighter. He’ll be fine,” Colt said, still in shock himself.

Gretchen was more in tune to Colt’s gestures and the way he carried himself. “How bad is it? The truth, Colton.”

“It’s bad,” Colt said as his arms went around the only mother he’d ever known. “I didn’t get to him in time.”

“We didn’t know he was out there, bleeding to death,” Gretchen whispered. “Thank God you found him, Colton. Thank you for getting him here.” She touched his cheek. “You two have been through so much together. Do you know how many times I worried about you two? And now…”

“He’s not gonna die now,” Colt stated with some insistence, squeezing her hand to reassure her. But he had to get his emotions in check. To do that, he walked off to where Eastlyn stood near the vending machine. “What’s taking so long with that coffee?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call what’s dribbling out coffee.”

Colt’s mind started to focus. “No sign of the Sea Dragon out there anywhere, which likely means the tour Simon booked was fake. Those guys posed as fishermen and set him up to steal his boat.”

Eastlyn handed off a cup of watered-down, brown juice. “That sounds like a reasonable assumption. They didn’t have to shoot him though. Unless…”

Colt met Eastlyn’s eyes. “Unless he recognized them once they met him at the dock this morning. That alone could’ve changed everything.”

“Exactly. Brent just texted me that the Moonlight Mile is pulling into the harbor. First light, I say we plan to go back out. By air we go south. Boat searches north. Try to find those bastards. What do you say?”

“I say south sounds like a winner. They’re probably headed down to Mexico with the idea to repaint the boat and resell it. Do we have to wait until first light?”

Losing part of her leg in the war hadn’t dampened Eastlyn’s adventurous spirit. Flying with a prosthetic lower limb hadn’t kept her out of the sky. “I’m game if you are.”

“No, that’s not exactly what I asked. Should we wait until daylight? Is that the safe bet?”

“Probably.”

Brent walked up behind his two officers. “What are you guys cooking up?”

Colt traded looks with his partner. “We decided to send out a BOLO to the Coast Guard. Since these guys already have a six-hour head start on us, it’s the logical thing to do.”

“Good thinking,” Brent said, dropping his coins into the vending machine. “But you two have no intentions of waiting for the Coast Guard, am I right?”

“Well, it’s technically your call,” Eastlyn pointed out. “Unless Colt wants to wait until Simon comes out of surgery.”

Colt took his first sip of the brown juice and made a face, tipping the contents of his cup into the catchall drain. “To hell with standing around and the safe bet. Let’s go find those bastards.”

“I’ll get a John Doe warrant,” Brent stated, scowling at the stuff in his cup.

 

 

By nine that night, Eastlyn had refueled while Colt sent out the BOLO to the Coast Guard, and all the details he had on the forty-six-foot cruiser, Sea Dragon.

“The message back is that the GPS has been turned off. The last location the Coast Guard has was south of Treasure Island.”

“So we guessed right about heading south. Did you add in there that the people on board are wanted for attempted murder?”

“This isn’t my first rodeo,” Colt snapped.

“Hey, don’t bite my head off. Right now, I’m the closest thing to a friend you got.”

“Sorry. I’m worn out. I know you are, too.”

“Good thing Cooper brought us some real coffee. It’s in that console over there.” Eastlyn pointed to a storage bin.

Colt flipped up the top, eyed the old-fashioned plaid container before twisting off the lid and pouring a cupful of liquid. The aroma was mesmerizing. “Ah, French roast.” He took a slug of the black stuff. “No cream or sugar to mess up the taste.”

“Yep. But don’t bogart the wake-up juice.”

Handing off the cap, he looked over the gauges. “What’s the range on this baby?”

“Two hundred and fifty-five miles. The way I figure it, our perps will be hauling ass and using fuel at a rapid rate. They’ll have to stop in Santa Barbara or before.”

“Or just take a siesta to get some shut-eye. They’ve had a busy day.”

“Exactly. And they’ll likely hug the coastline to do it.” She handed him the goggles. “You keep that spotlight on the shoreline.”

They flew for an hour, covering a swath of black sea. But as they approached the Big Sur area, Colt slapped Eastlyn’s arm. “Suspicious watercraft at six o’clock with running lights. That’s Simon’s boat all right.”

“How do you want to handle this? Coast Guard may take a while.”

“You feel like a firefight?”

“I’m ginned up on coffee and adrenaline, so sure. But with the noise from the blades we have zero chance of surprise.”

“Unless you put down on the beach back there at Pfeiffer and I get out…”

“And do what? Walk half a mile to the boat? What then? Swim? Won’t you still need a skiff to reach them?”

“Maybe not. They’re only moored sixty yards or so from those rocks. I can swim that. I used to swim five miles in the pool.”

Eastlyn stared at him. “That’s totally different, and you know it.”

“Sixty yards, Eastlyn. That’s half a football field. That’s nothing. Ever heard of the combat side stroke?”

“You made that up.”

“It’s how Navy SEALs are able to swim so far.”

“Don’t BS me on this, Colt. Not now.”

“I’m not. I can do this. I want to try.”

“I must be nuts for letting you.” She moved the stick to right in a sharp turn heading back to Pfeiffer State Beach, the safest place around for miles to put down.

Her skill as a pilot paid off when she threaded the needle through the darkness and landed safely onshore. “You’ll have to trek over those boulders to make it a straight shot,” Eastlyn told him. “I’m not sitting here and watching you have all the fun.”

“That’s exactly what you’re gonna do. Sit tight until I at least board.” He grabbed the flare gun, stowed it away in plastic and adjusted his night vision goggles. “Wait for my signal before you buzz the boat.”

“Roger that.”

Colt scooted out of the cockpit and bounded to the ground to finish prepping. He slid into a bulletproof vest, checked his gear and weapons before sliding his hands into a pair of skintight gloves.

He tried to find a path around the sharp rocks but decided there was none. Scaling the lowest point, which was probably fifteen feet in height, he stumbled over ragged edges until he could drop down on the other side. There, he had to traverse the rocky terrain. Once he was able to get across that minefield, he met up with nothing more than pebbly sand.

Wading out into the frigid water, one scissor-kick for launch and he was off. He focused on keeping parallel to the water, heading straight toward the Sea Dragon. Almost two years out of the Army and it didn’t take him long to realize he was out of shape for this kind of mission. Too many beers and not enough exercise, he mused to himself, feeling the water sluice over him as he glided through it.

Once he neared the boat, he had to wait to catch his breath before starting his climb up the ladder. Reaching the top, he heaved himself over the railing and down onto the aft deck, dripping wet.

The only sound he heard was the water lapping up against the hull. It boded well that his targets were fast asleep. They didn’t even have enough sense to post a guard.

Colt put his headset back on and readied the Sig Sauer, pulled his backup piece and tucked it into the waistband of his uniform. He raised his arm and sent up the flare then started down the steps to the cabins below.

At the first bunk he came to, he saw a figure bundled under the blankets. One knee to the man’s chest for pressure and he cuffed the man’s wrist to a metal pole over the berth. When his thief started to yell out, Colt stretched tape over his mouth to keep him quiet. He grabbed the other wrist, cuffed that one and linked it to a different piece of metal pipe.

Without saying a word, he moved on to the next cabin, where he found the guy’s partner had passed out. Colt caught a whiff of strong whiskey in the air. He stood over the bunk and performed the same routine with this guy that he had with the other. From there, he checked the rest of the lower deck, searching for anyone else on board until he was satisfied there were only two.

Overhead, Colt heard the chopper approaching and then buzzing the boat. Using his headset, he gave Eastlyn an update. “Both suspects in custody. Boat is secure.”

“Coast Guard is on their way,” she replied.

“Roger that.”

He went back into the second cabin and forced the man to sit up by yanking on his shirt. Colt narrowed his eyes. It was only then he recognized the face. “I know you. I’ve seen you before. Dawson, isn’t it?”

The guy tried to talk but with the tape covering his mouth it was hard to understand him. Colt reached over and ripped it off.

“Ow!” the man exclaimed, rolling his shoulders. Colt wasn’t the only one who saw a familiar face. “Hey, Del Rio. I didn’t know you were in California. I didn’t even know you were a cop.”

“Seems like there’s a lot you don’t know.” He reached in his pocket for the laminated Miranda card Brent had forced him to carry and started reading it. “You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to a lawyer present during interrogation and the right to an appointed lawyer, if and when this goes to court. Do you understand?”

“Hey man, me and Harrison, we just wanted the boat. But Bremmer got all mad and he recognized us…”

“Do you understand, Dawson, what I just read to you? Are you waiving your rights to an attorney? Because whatever you say can be used against you in a court of law.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Sure. You caught us dead to rights.”

“Great. Fine. Glad to hear it.” Colt uncuffed Dawson’s hands.

“What are you doing? Are you letting us go, man? Great, man. Thanks.”

“Not quite,” Colt said before rearing back and throwing a punch to Dawson’s face. “That’s for shooting Simon.” He hit him again. “And that’s for making me miss my birthday party with my kids.”