P4L, carpe diem (JJ Maybank)

004

I walked around the market, called the Porthole, with JJ, since Kie and Pope were still mad about what we took from man.

But once we got back, we sat down. "Who's that?" I asked, looking at the dead body 10 meters away. "That's Scooter Grubbs. He was out during the storm. Check out the pic I got," one of my older friends, Marley said. "Dead body," she said, in a voice. "Insane," me and Kie added.

"What kind of boat did he have?" JJ asked Marley. "Somehow that dirtbag copped a brand-new Grady-White. Everyone's out looking for it."

I looked up at JJ, who was straight faced looking at Scooter Grubb's corpse.

-|-

"Okay," Pope decided, "so, umm, we didn't see anything. We don't know anything. We need total and complete amnesia," Pope explained. I sat on the chair beside JJ, listening. "Actually, Pope's right for once," he said, standing up, "see, I agree with you sometimes. Deny, deny, deny, deny," he said, pointing to the rest of the gang.

"Guys, we can't keep that money," Kie fought.

"Okay, not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara," JJ scoffed.

"We have to pass that off to Lana Grubbs. Otherwise, it's bad karma."

"Bad karma to be implicated in a felony, too."

"We gotta go dark."

"If that means we get to keep the money, then I agree," JJ said, all implicated towards the money.

"I don't agree," John B said, patting JJ's back and walking towards me.

"What? Why?"

"Just think about it. This is Scooter Grubbs, we're talking about. Same dude that's buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. Shit, one time, Dylan and I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-a-Lot parking lot because he needed gas! We're talking about a dirtbag marina rat who's never had more than 40 bucks in his pocket and all of the suddden, he's got a Grady-White?! Just sayin'..." my brother pointed all that out. And he actually had a fair game point. "Point made," I agreed.

-|-

We were on the Pogue, sailing on the ocean. I was laying upside down.

"All right, so, think about it, Pope. How does a marina rat get a Grady-White?"

"Prostitution," Pope said. "Square groupers, bro."

"No flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance. They don't do that shit during a Hurricane. That's too dumb. So, that means... Jayj?" I asked.

"They were straight smugglin'."

"Smugglin'." I repeated.

"And I guarantee there's serious amount of contraband in that wreck," John B said.

"Fuck yeah," I mumbled, I stuck out my tongue at Kie, who giggled.

"Fish on!" JJ said, catching a fish.

-|-

We sat in John B's room, sitting on the windowsill. "For the record, if that is a smuggling ship, with illegal contraband on the inside of it... it probably belongs to somebody else," Pope explained.

"Minor details," Kie added.

"They could come looking for it. Taking it would be catastrophically stupid," Pope said, smacking the money stack on the bed. JJ grabbed it, smiling.

"Right, well, stupid things have good outcomes all the time," JJ said, fanning the stolen money in his hand. "All we need to do is figure out a way to get into the cargo hold of that wreck. Until then, just lay low. Just act normal."