Michael Savage - Abuse of Power

Someone had been here.

Boaters tend to have a kind of sixth sense when it comes to knowing their space has been invaded-maybe because there’s often so little of it-and Jack had no doubt in his mind that he’d had a visitor tonight.

Tony?

Not likely. He would have left for Camp Parks hours ago.

Carlos Rodriguez, the kid Jack had hired to wash his boat? Carlos was an illegal and Jack had been trying to help him gain citizenship-although he was convinced that the illegal problem, coupled with corporate welfare, were two things that were surely and swiftly sinking this country.

But Jack wasn’t without his sympathies, especially toward a young man he knew wasn’t afraid of hard work. His own grandfather, a Russian immigrant, had taken a similar path, working long, backbreaking hours to raise his family, and had spent many years living in poverty on New York’s Lower East Side. Jack saw the same thing in Carlos that he saw in his own family and people. A sense of pride and a willingness to make sacrifices.

But Carlos only came to wash the boat on Tuesdays, and wasn’t due again until next week. So, if not him, and not Tony, who was the intruder?

And, more importantly, was he still here?

Jack glanced up toward the flybridge but saw no sign of movement up there. As a precaution, he pulled his. 357 from its holster then quietly unlocked the starboard pilothouse door and slipped inside, carefully surveying the room. He left the lights off, leaving only the pale moonlight to guide him, but as far as he could tell, there was nothing out of place.

Yet that feeling of invasion persisted.

What was worse, Eddie would usually be leaping at his feet by now, over and over until Jack caught him in his arms. But there was no sign of him.

Jack’s gut tightened and a fresh wave of uneasiness rolled through him. He was tempted to call out to the little guy but he remained silent. If anyone was in here, there was no point in announcing himself.

Instead, he stepped past the helm to the port door.

It was unlocked.

Jack never left his doors unlocked. Not while he was gone.

For a moment he considered backing out completely and waiting in the darkness on the dock for someone to emerge. But an unlocked door was merely proof that someone had been here, not that they’d stuck around. And he was worried about Eddie.

Turning, he checked the salon, watching the darkness for any sign of movement, listening for any sounds of breathing, but there was a stillness in the air that told him it was empty. He moved down the short set of steps and crossed through to the aft cabin, which was also empty.

Taking his cell phone from his pocket, he hit the flashlight app and the screen glowed. He shone the beam up the spiraled wooden stairway and cautiously climbed the steps to the flybridge, but there was no sign of anything amiss. A moment later he was back inside the pilothouse and headed down to the lower deck. He took the steps cautiously, keeping the. 357 at the ready. He had no qualms about doing whatever was necessary to protect himself.

When he reached the companionway he stood very still, listening. The boat gently rocked and the only sound was the quiet lapping of the bay against the hull. No sign of Eddie down here, either.

So where was he?

Dread washing through him, Jack used his cell phone flashlight again, keeping the beam low as he worked his way around to the guest stateroom, bracing himself for a surprise attack. But the cabin was clear-no bogeymen in the shadows, no sign of a disturbance.

Turning, he was about to check the second guest stateroom when he noticed that the door to the head was ajar. He supposed it could have come loose somehow, but he doubted it, and he wasn’t prone to leaving the door unlatched.

Tightening his grip on the. 357, he approached the head carefully, half expecting to find someone hiding in there. But when he gently pushed the door open and shone the light inside, he discovered the small bathroom and shower stall empty.

But his instincts had been right. Someone had been in here.

In the light of his cell phone he saw a noose hanging from the shower head.

An empty noose that had been fashioned from Eddie’s leash.

Tony was half asleep when Jack called.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” he groaned. “I got training in the morning. I’m trying to get some shut-eye.”

“Sorry, man, but is Eddie up there with you?”

“Up here?” Tony said groggily. “What the hell are you talking about? Why would I bring him up here?”

“You two seem to be attached at the hip lately, so I was hoping you took him along for the ride.”

The grogginess in Tony’s voice abruptly disappeared. “Jack, what’s going on?”

“Someone broke into the boat and Eddie’s gone. And I’m not sure I want to tell you what I found in the head.”

“You think they took him?”

“Or worse. He’s nowhere around.” The dread Jack had felt earlier was rolling around in his belly like a bad stew. “I’ve tried calling him but he doesn’t come.”

“Wait a minute,” Tony told him. “Hold on-”

“What-?”

“Go into your stateroom.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do what I tell you. This is something me and Eddie wanted to surprise you with.”

“What the hell are you-”

“Just do it, Jack. Trust me.”

Jack hesitated a moment, still battling his rage, then did as he was told. He had already turned on all the lights, in hopes of spotting the little guy cowering in a corner, but grew more and more alarmed when he couldn’t find him.

“You in there yet?”

“I’m here,” Jack said.

“All right. Now say, ‘FIDO.’”

“What?”

“FIDO,” Tony told him. “It’s an old military acronym. ‘Fuck It and Drive On.’ Trust me, just say it. And say it loud.”

Jack hesitated, wondering what Tony was up to. “All right… FIDO.”

The moment the word was out of his mouth he heard Eddie’s familiar outsized growl coming from somewhere near the bed. The one he normally reserved for strangers. It was muffled, but clear, and Jack moved quickly to a low, narrow cabinet on the port side.

When he opened the cabinet door, he found Eddie lying prone inside the tiny space, stretched out flat like a platypus.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Jack said, relief washing through him.

“A little self-preservation measure, in case someone ever broke in. I noticed the door on that cabinet was spring-loaded, so I started working with him about three weeks ago.”

“Thank God you did,” Jack said. He tucked the phone under his chin and pulled Eddie into his arms, letting his friend lick at his face. “I was worried sick about him.”

“No kidding. You ready to tell me what you found in the head now?”

Jack gave the dog a quick back scratch, above the tail, then set him on the bed. “A noose made out of Eddie’s leash.”

“What the hell? Did you call the cops?”

“For what? They’ll just file a report and call it a day.” Jack sighed. “I’m used to death threats but this is a little too close to home. And I’m not entirely convinced it’s the work of one of my garden-variety stalkers.”

“Then who?”

“Good question. Bob Copeland told me I should watch my back, and after what happened to Jamal Thomas tonight-”

“What happened?”

Jack gave him the rundown on the trip to Sunnydale, Jamal’s overdose, and the men in the black Escalade. “The kid’s brother got one of them on his cell camera and Maxine’s gonna see if she can identify the parking sticker on the car.”

“Jesus,” Tony muttered. “Sounds like we got this thing right. You and Eddie better not sleep on that boat tonight.”