Chapter 7

Two amazingly huge things happened just after Marilyn was seated as a Superior Court Judge, I mean other than one of our lovers being seated as a Superior Court Judge.

The first was when the friend of hers called one evening and asked if she could get us on speaker and speak to all of us. It was the woman who had taken on the case to try and get a wrongful death settlement and some serious money out of the Bishops’ and their company. She hummed and hawed about the civil proceedings and what had been happening over the period of the last several months, then when Marilyn urged her to spill, she told us she made two hundred and fifty thousand dollars last week and just wanted to share her good news.

We looked at each other, trying to figure out what that could mean and why she would call to tell us that, then Donna screamed. “TWO AND A HALF MILLION DOLLARS?”

Sheila said, “Yes, hon, the ruling just came through, and the Bishops actually had that money, and a bit more, on hand and in liquid assets. You’ll be getting a lump sum of one and a half million dollars, and a hundred thousand a year, guaranteed by a bonding agency, for ten years. AND, Donna, it’s all tax free. Oh, if they go belly up, you’ll own whatever part of the company hasn’t been paid off yet and get it on the sale of the company or their assets. You’ll get it all, regardless.”

“Oh, wow, how cool.” Donna was in a bit of shock over the news, but Marilyn took over.

“Sheila, that’s wonderful. Donna is having a hard time believing all this, but she is very happy, and we are all extremely thankful for everything you’ve done.”

“Well, there was a little more, but I decided to wait until after that announcement to make another.”

“OK, girlfriend. Shoot.”

“I made another fifty thousand the same day.”

“Pray tell. The coy little kitten licking the bird feathers off her lip has more to say?”

“Yeah, I got Charlie five hundred grand. All up front, no taxes. They had two million in liquid assets and negotiable instruments. You two got all of it, and Donna will get some more.”

“Wow, thank you, Sheila,” I told her. “I certainly wasn’t expecting that.”

“I wasn’t either. I was advised by a friend of a friend of a friend to give it a shot and see how it went, and it really went. Maybe someday, if you’ll invite me out on a fishing trip or something, I’ll fill you in, but it’s not something anyone would want to brag about.”

“You are hereby invited, Sheila. Save your vacation days and get ready for a call. We’re looking forward to meeting you and taking you out. I mean that.” I was being sincere. She had gone over and above the call doing what she did, and although we had all the money we needed, she did what needed to be done. The money she got for us would be spent and go to people who work for a living and can use it. No doubt about it.

We were a normal family for a while, if you want to call it that. We laughed, lived, and loved, so it was pretty normal. The decision was made to make a run for it over an upcoming spring break, so we called our friends on the gulf, now living together, and told them our plan. They were able to swing a few days off if it worked out, so we called the unknown.

“Sheila, this is Marilyn. The time has come. Can you get off the week of the second through the ninth of April? (Pause.) You think so? (Pause.) OK, do that, and let us know. We’ll pick you up and fly down to Gulf Shores and stay with some friends of ours, go fishing a couple of times, and hear the rest of your story. We’d love it if you can go. (Pause.) Just a couple of days? Great. (Pause.) OK, hon. Let us know. Byeee.” She pushed the screen on her phone and turned toward the three of us at the dinner table. “Sounding good. You’ll love Sheila. She’s a nut. She’ll let us know in a couple of days, but she thinks she’ll be able to make herself available.”

We finished dinner, then watched a movie and celebrated the good news in our standard fashion, making love to each other until we were so tired, we just couldn’t lick anymore.

We had a plan and commenced playing it out. We left on a Friday afternoon, stopping in Atlanta, and picking up a happy girl, one Sheila Roberts, a short vivacious cutie, probably about thirty-fiveish, who fit right into our gaggle of joyous life celebrators. She was a bit outgoing, but not annoying. Just happy and happy to be out and about, was more what it seemed. We shook, hugged, and chatted for a bit, then boarded the plane, Donna and I did a quick pre-flight, then off we went for the airport in Gulf Shores. Once there, Angela and Stephanie were waiting for us in their cars. They had IDs for the airport, since they flew out of there professionally, and met us right where the ground folks wanted us. After ordering fuel and a clean out for the head, we were swept off to the love shack on the beach.

We sat around the next day just talking, cooking, drinking different concoctions, and getting to know each other. Sheila was a cutie, and a very nice woman to be around. She was funny, and smart. Those two things, with her attractiveness, should get her anywhere she wanted to go.

Early the next morning we headed out in the boat, the seven of us, on a gulf that was as close as I’d seen to being smooth, but as the morning rolled on, the wind started coming up a bit, but not badly. We caught a few fish and were happy about the sun and the company. About noon, we were moving locations when things changed a bit.

The water was getting a bit rough due to some additional wind, and we hit a couple of pretty good-sized waves, having the keel come down pretty hard and slice into the water. I was watching closely and using the throttle at the top to keep from burying the bow. You could feel the impact on your knees, but the boat was built for it, so we pressed on. A few more like that and we even heard a bit of a thump, like something coming loose at one point, after one of the harder hits. I promised the girls I’d check it out. It calmed a little after a short while and some bait hit the depths of the gulf at about eighty feet. No sooner had someone said, “fish on”, when someone else did, then another and there were three fish on the way up. Stephanie was able to help out a bit while I was checking out the hull through the access port in the little cabin up front. All seemed fine, and I doubt there was a cup of water in the bilge. There normally is, from rain, or condensation, or whatever, but there was definitely not a hull breach of any kind, so I went back up and helped land the fish.

Sheila asked Donna about using the head, so Donna took her to the side where you could enter it from the deck and opened the hatch for her.

“Donna, I don’t think I want to go in there, I’m sorry. As a matter of fact, if this is how y’all make your money, I think I’d rather go back to shore, find a cab, and go home. This is scary.”

“Sheila, what the heck are you talking about, it’s a bathroom for God’s sake,” she said as she leaned over and was looking in. “Oh, shit. Charlie! Marilyn! I think I know why Bishop wanted his boat back so badly!”

I went over and looked. Marilyn went over and looked. Sheila started laughing. “Donna, I was kidding. Marilyn told me about the guy trying to get the boat back. It makes a lot more sense now.”

The second of the amazingly huge things happening lay right there before us. There was a brick of some wrapped substance in the toilet itself, five more on the floor and six still sitting on a fiberglass panel that had come loose in the roof of the lavatory and was just hanging there, bouncing up and down with the movement of the boat.

Sheila spoke again. “Someone shut that door. That thing is off limits. Let’s find a bucket for me to pee in and catch a few fish. Marilyn, you need to call someone and see if they have any friends down here. This situation might be a bit tough to explain. You do, however, Charlie, have two veterans, a judge, and an officer of the court with you. Not to mention two really pretty honor students.” Sheila laughed again. “I’ll bet there’s an honest cop down here somewhere ... Maybe.” More laughter.

I found her a bucket and turned her loose in the small cabin under the helm. She took care of business then came back topside and dumped the bucket herself.

“Thank you, Sheila. I could have helped with that.”

“Not my first camping trip, cowboy. I’m glad you have that float on the handle, though, just in case I might have dropped it. It’s a long ways down to the water for a short little fart like me.” More laughter.

Marilyn was grinning as she started talking to someone in Atlanta, then we saw her nod as Donna hooked a monster fish. It was a keeper, anyway, she just made it look like a big fish because of her size and the fun she was having landing the thing. Then, making me a happy camper since it made me look like a good host, Sheila caught one. It really was a big’un, as they say, a fifteen-pound snapper. That’s a pretty big fish. Angela was impressed. Angela caught a twelve pounder, Amy a fiver, then Marilyn put a stop to the party. She had been on the phone for several minutes and was very animated during most of the conversation.

“I contacted the Atlanta office of the DEA. They said they were looking at Bishop a long time ago. The new engines were evidently added to a drug running boat, Charlie. You just solved an investigation leading back to just before your brother was ... murdered. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, darling, just make sure they don’t think these drugs are mine. Ours. Whatever.”

“Awww. I love when you call me ‘darling’, Charlie. Don’t worry. There are probably enough fingerprints on those bricks that they’ll find out something. Yours won’t be there. I’ve used that head a couple of times and I had no idea that ceiling was fake. You didn’t either, or they wouldn’t still be there. No one takes his girlfriends, and their girlfriends, out fishing with a couple hundred thousand dollars of drugs on their boat.”

Donna asked, “What do you think it is, Marilyn?”

“Probably cocaine. Hard to tell without a kit, but we’ll find out when we dock. They’ll have someone from Mobile, most probably, meeting with us at Angela’s place. Hell, they may make it down from Atlanta by then. It’s an hour back to the dock isn’t it, Charlie?”

“At least. We’re going into a headwind, and I don’t plan on hurrying. The more feds there, the better. I don’t want my ass hanging from some local sheriff’s flagpole.”

“Yes, the local cops will be there, too, Charlie, but I asked Derek to make sure the DEA brought someone with some balls to shut down the name calling, and to be honest, there may be some. I worry about that, but I was promised they would make sure to bring some big guns that had read the files. They know about Bishop, and the boat problems, his court cases and all that. It really does make a lot more sense now.”

Sheila spoke up. “Hopefully they’ll take the boat to the shop, dust it for prints, and return it to you. If not, Charlie, I promise, I’ll make them buy you another one and I’ll kick Derek’s ass, personally.”

“Derek? Who is this Derek you two are talking about?” Amy asked.

“Ah, yes, my cousin. Derek Roberts. Chief of the Atlanta Office of the DEA. Marilyn knows him through a friend of ours that he dated for a while. I know him because my mother shared a womb with his father. It’s a really small assed world, trust me. Oh, hang on, my phone’s ringing. Hello? (Pause.) Hey, cuz. (Pause.) She said that? (Pause.) It’s true. (Pause.) Yeah, me and his fiancée. (Pause.) No, the entire ceiling just fell down. (Pause.) No. Sealed. No screws, no nothing, just looked like a piece of fiberglass joined to another piece of fiberglass. (Pause.) OK. We’ll chat later, Derek. Thanks.” She pressed the screen on her phone. “He said we’re fine. Nothing should happen. Are you all ready for that story I was going to tell you?”

“The one about the extra five hundred grand?” Donna asked.

“Yeah. No recorders, and I need to swear you all to secrecy.” She grinned.

“This is sounding really mysterious!” Amy said, looking around at all of us with a scared look on her face.

“It’s not that bad, Amy, but close. I mentioned the case to a court clerk over coffee and a donut, just a conversation with an old friend, and she told me to go for it. All of it. When she heard the brother was still living, she told me a story about a case that happened late last year, and said, ‘you know what I mean, Sheila? Do they sound kind of similar? Hint! Hint!’ It was like a brick upside the head. Duhhh! So, I filed for a reasonable sum for Charlie, and the judge smiled and approved it all. No jury trial needed due to the circumstances. In any case, it was a bit inappropriate, but those jackals needed to get fleeced, and ... well, it happened, and it’s water under the bridge.”

“Wow!” Marilyn exclaimed. “Novel way to hedge malfeasance and still get what you wanted. I’m sure there were people above your pay grade making that all happen, Sheila. My lips are sealed. The good guys won.”

“That’s pretty much what everyone else in the system thought, too, evidently,” Sheila replied

“Their money is green. That’s all that matters. That it’s doing a lot of people a lot of good and we’re enjoying it is all gravy.” I honestly thought that, so it came out of my mouth that way. We were spending that money on things that keep people employed. Some was going to charity, but mostly to working families.

We finally got back in, two hours after the calls were made, traveling slowly back into the dock. Sheila’s cousin, Derek, called her while we were underway and asked us to take our time going in so that some friends of his could meet up with the police and such before our arrival. It worked amazingly well, and we were greeted upon tying up by no less than six uniforms and a few federal agents in blue windbreakers with various and sundry yellow alphabet entries on the back, over the word “POLICE”.

We heard a man holler, “Sheila Roberts?” Sheila held her hand up. “Over here, please.”

Another yelled, “Judge Marilyn Carlisle?” Marilyn looked over at us and grinned, then held her hand up. “Over here, please. Everyone else, please stay on the boat.” We did.

That was a no brainer, but we did share a couple of beers while they were chatting amongst themselves for the next ten minutes. The beer was cold and went down easy. Since we were docked, there was no reason to worry about an accident, or being arrested, and Angela’s house was only a short walk away around a jetty butt and a fence post.

Two very young women, extremely young looking, came aboard and asked if they could see the latrine that fell apart. They identified themselves as DEA Crime Scene Investigators. Donna showed it to them and let them go at it, drugs and all. We knew there were an even dozen of the wrapped-up bricks, so if any less showed up in court, at least someone would know the truth. I really don’t trust anyone. Well, probably Donna, Amy, and Marilyn, and most likely Angela and Stephanie, if I look deep. I think they’ve shown me that I can trust them. They certainly don’t seem to be using me for my money. Maybe for other things, but that’s part of the love we share.

They punctured each of the bags and withdrew enough white powder to test it for purity, causing a couple of ‘Wows’ and even a ‘Jesus, look at that’. While they were marking and packaging the drug bundles in evidence bags, Marilyn broke the ice by asking how high school girls got hired on as CSIs with the Feds.

“Oh, my. Thank you, Judge. I guess that’s a compliment! I’ve been doing this for six years and have an associate’s in Criminal Science, a bachelor’s in Criminal Justice, and a master’s in Criminal Investigation Process, the latter two I picked up after I came to work for these people. I’m twenty-five and a few months. Mary, you can share your own story.”

“Thanks, Trudy. Here, you can log a few while I’m talking. Thank you, Judge. I’ve been doing this for three years and have a bachelor’s in Criminal Investigation. I’m working on my master’s and eventually a doctorate in my spare time. I’m just turned twenty-four. As for why we look like schoolgirls, I have no idea. Good genes, maybe. Or good jeans, maybe.” She looked down at her skinny jeans. “I don’t know. I’m a legacy. I wouldn’t want to do anything else, so for me it was a three-year BS and straight into the Agency. My father was killed in Charleston on a raid about eight years ago. Senior agent in the district. Maybe someday I can fill his shoes. I’m working toward it, anyway.”

“Wow,” Amy said. “You two sound like you’ve known what you’ve wanted to do for a while.”

“Not really,” Trudy said. “I wouldn’t mind going in first once in a while instead of cleaning up the mess and logging the take. This is a lot safer, though, so there is that. The chances of us winding up like Mary’s dad are a lot slimmer doing this. Sorry, Mary, no offense intended.”

“None taken. We are safer, but promotions are a bitch for CSIs. It stands to reason, but still, I’m just glad I have a decent job with plenty of job security.” She started laughing. “There is no end to idiots and drug smuggling. We can transfer to field agents if we work at it and qualify. I’m not trying right now. It’s easier to get to class doing this.”

“True that. Let’s get these tagged and bagged, then get them weighed, Mary. The SAC in Atlanta needs the info as soon as we can get it to him from what Derek said.”

“Cool. Three more then you can get your scale and your calculator out. I’m saying 60 pounds, give or take and this shit is as pure as the driven snow. Worth a cool million, easy.”

“It did test pretty clean. It hasn’t been cut for the street yet, that’s for sure. Well, folks, we need to get these to the truck, so if you’ll excuse us, we’ll get this stuff weighed, notify the appropriate authorities and be back to try to get some prints. It’ll be tough, but we’re going to try anyway,” Trudy said as they finished the last bundle and placed all the evidence in a large duffle with handles on the ends, as well as the sides, then carried it off the boat, up the dock, and into the back of their van. We could see them taking them out and weighing each one on a digital scale, then placing them off to the side.

Marilyn, Sheila, and a gentleman in body armor with a DEA baseball cap, approached the boat. “Permission to come aboard,” the man asked, in proper Navy fashion.

“Please do. Would you be Derek?” I asked him. I figured he was, since he was holding Sheila’s hand, but like a cousin, not a girlfriend.

He nodded and reached out to shake, first with me, then with Donna and Amy. “That would be me. I’ve been asked to notify you that you are not being looked at for any of this. That sounds a bit premature, but all of the court cases and such that Martin Bishop brought have been logged and we have been watching. Before you all bought this boat, it was searched top to bottom and two different drug dog teams went over it six times on six different occasions. We really did think this was happening, but we couldn’t find it. Now I understand why. They were able to seal that space up like a fiberglass bodywork job and wash it down with every chemical known to man, right down the drain and out to the sewer, if they were nice and pumped it out. In any case, I am thankful to Neptune and his goddesses of the sea that it got a bit choppy today. This was, no pun intended, a watershed. The girls are pretty sure it’s pure, uncut cocaine. It’s worth a lot of money. There may be a bit of a reward, too, but we’re not sure yet.”

“If there is, put Donna Grant’s name on the check. It’s her boat. I just drive it for her when she’s busy fishing or lying out in the sun.”

Derek laughed at that. “The way Sheila spoke, I thought you two were married. I figured it would be Curry.”

“Not yet, sir,” Donna said to him, “but it won’t be long. We’re just trying to find the perfect place with the perfect sunrise, or sunset, or both, for the ceremony. Then I’ll latch on to him for keeps.” Donna smiled as she said that and hugged my arm.

The girls came back aboard with a little suitcase. Trudy announced, “Mary was pretty close, Derek. She guesstimated about 60 pounds.”

“She what?” Amy asked.

“Oh, guesstimated. Somewhere between a guess and an estimation, sorry. It came out at 63 pounds, 10 ounces, but some of that is the heavy plastic wrap and the duct tape. We started out at 64 even but took off the six ounces for our 12 bags. Thompson has been notified by official department email of the stats he wanted, so he’s probably off looking for Mister Bishop as we speak. We’re going to dust for prints down here, but I doubt we’ll find any. They had to have really cleaned this thing out for the dogs not to go apeshit over that much cocaine.” We stepped away to give them more room and they got to work. “Derek, we do think we have some readable prints on the packaging so it’s possible we’ll have more for you tomorrow afternoon.”