“I think I went into the wrong line of work,” Salsa said as he repositioned the little captain’s hat on his head. “I should’ve been a Navy man.”
Lois snorted at this. She fanned herself with a paper plate as Salsa slowly brought the houseboat around. The south Florida sun beat down on them mercilessly. At last a breeze cut across the deck, offering some small relief from the oppressive Miami heat.
“It’s important for Mr. and Mrs. Gold to be seen cruising around out here,” Salsa pointed out. In addition to the hat, he wore a natty, bright blue blazer and white slacks.
“And you needed the practice steering this thing, too,” Lois added.
“Ehh. I’m a natural.” He grinned. “Maybe I should call myself Commodore Salzman.”
Lois rolled her eyes at that.
Salsa ignored her and focused on his steering. The houseboat was big and sluggish and, while clearly capable of supporting the great deal of weight they planned to be adding to it soon, he didn’t relish the idea of trying to outrun or outmaneuver anyone in it.
They had taken a slow cruise around Ruby Island earlier in their excursion, looking the place over from every direction while never approaching close enough to draw any unwanted attention. Once Salsa had been satisfied with what he’d seen, he’d brought the boat back around facing west. Yet still they lingered in the midst of Biscayne Bay.
“Don’t you think it’s about time to head in?” Lois asked after another fifteen minutes or so of lumbering about, waves insistently rocking them, powerboats and water skiers darting around them and even sailboats leaving them in their wake.
Salsa pursed his lips, considering, as he worked the boat’s wheel and the throttle. He was feeling increasingly confident in his ability to maneuver the vehicle and to understand the currents in which it was operating. And he was having more fun than he’d expected.
“Saul?” Lois said, more insistently now. She was tapping her watch impatiently.
Reluctantly, he nodded and angled the boat around to where it was facing northwest. The low rise of tiny little Lummus Island slid past to port. This was the area he needed to know best, and he was giving it his full attention now.
“Our berth is that way,” Lois called after a minute, sounding annoyed. She was pointing to the southwest, toward Miami proper.
“I just need to get us a bit closer to the east end of Dodge Island for a minute,” he said.
“Dodge Island?” Lois raised an eyebrow at this. “Any particular reason you want to go there?“
Salsa raised his own eyebrow back at her. “Maybe because there’s a bridge on the west end of it, connecting to Miami?”
“Ah.” Lois nodded slowly. Then she returned her attention to picnic basket resting on the counter in front of her. “Well, I’m having lunch.” She reached in and pulled out the sandwich wrapped in wax paper.
“Hey— could you hand me a tuna?”
They cleared Lummus Island and the larger shape of Dodge Island came into view ahead. Salsa grabbed the binoculars off the dash and held them up, adjusting the dials. He pursed his lips as he looked the shoreline over. Yeah, it was like Harper had said. There were a couple of spots where they could land the big houseboat there. Excellent.
Seeing his obvious concentration on what he was doing, Lois kept quiet for the duration, but at last she tapped her watch again. “Saul? I have an appointment in a little while, and…”
“Right, right,” he said, putting the binoculars down and grinning back at her. “Of course, dear. Off we go.”
One hand on the wheel and one holding his sandwich, and now entirely pleased with things, Salsa steered the big green houseboat the rest of the way across the bay towards Miami.
What are Salsa and Lois up to here? Find out soon, in MIAMI HEIST!
Meanwhile, read their first adventure (with Harper and company)--the award-winning VEGAS HEIST-- in paperback, on Kindle or in audiobook from Audible (read by Pete Milan)!
