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1821
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Wyatt waited out with Kie and Pope while JJ and John B headed inside the Coast Guard tent to report the sunken boat. From the looks of it, they weren't getting anywhere.
The duo joined their friends after being yelled at by the man behind the desk.
"Well, that went well," Pope stuffed his hands into the pockets of his shorts.
"So, what's the plan," JJ asked, resting his arm on John B's shoulder.
JB held up the motel key. "I think I know how we're gonna find the guy who owns the boat."
"No, no, we don't know whose room that is," Pope shook his head. "It could be anyone."
JJ took the key from John B and tossed it to Kie. "I'm in."
Kie smiled, tossing the key to Wyatt. "Come on. I'll be lookout."
"Finder's fee," John B passed Pope, trying to convince him to get on board with the idea. "And hey, at least you'll only be an accomplice."
"Man," Pope complained.
"Come on, bubba."
"I'm definitely going in with you guys, just so you know," Wyatt told the boys as the walked back to the HMS Pogue.
The ride to the motel was mostly silent as the five teens waited in anticipation.
JJ whistled, staring at the building with disgust. "I thought the Château looked bad."
"This place is a shitshow," John B added.
"I don't think it looks that bad," Wyatt defended. It looked no better than her own home. So, then again, who was she to judge.
"It's pretty bad," Pope countered.
"Motel or meth lab?" Kie wondered aloud.
"You be the judge."
"Doesn't look like the type of place someone with a Grady White would stay," John B said.
"No, it looks like the type of place someone with a Grady White would get killed," Pope agreed.
"So, either that definitely happened," Wyatt started, "or maybe the guy was just borrowing it."
"All right, here we go." JJ grabbed the rope, preparing to hop off onto the grass. "This is your captain speaking. HMS Pogue comin' in for landing."
