Ain't Shady Baby, I'm Hot

3

"Are y'all serious?" I had my arms crossed as I stood over the four children. "Do you understand the consequences? Y'all could have gotten in serious trouble. We still could all get in serious trouble."

"We?" I rose an eyebrow at John B.

"Do you seriously think that I'm letting y'all do this by yourselves?" I sigh sitting up on the railing. "Now, since y'all have such big ideas, what's the plan?"

"Okay so we um- didn't see anything. We don't know anything. We need to have total and complete amnesia." Pope spoke up his fear to lose his scholarship showing.

"Actually, Pope's right for once. See, I agree with you sometimes. Deny, deny, deny." JJ stood up, and for those of y'all who were wondering- yes JJ has the most experience here with his Pops.

"Guys, we can't keep that money." Kie looked to me as I leaned my head on the wood pillar behind me.

"Okay, not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara." I rolled my eyes at JJ.

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

"It's bad karma to be implicated in a felony, too. We gotta go dark." As Pope was talking I noticed how John B hadn't said a word. My eyes drifting to see him thinking.

"If that means we get to keep the money then I agree." I watched something click in John B's eyes. His attention returning.

"I don't agree." He set a hand on JJ who look more confused then when I had tried to explain algebra this past year.

"What? Why?"

"Just think about it. This is Scooter Grubbs we're talking about. Same dude that is buying individual cigarets at the Porthole. Shit, one time I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot," I grimaced. But then I caught on to what John B was saying. "Because he needed gas. We're talking about a dirtbag marina rat whose never had more than 40 bucks in his pocket-"

"But now he's got a Grady-White and several hundreds in cash." I piped in. My feet swinging back over so I can hop off the rail onto the deck. "So how does he come up with that?"

"Exactly." John B pointed enthusiastically.

"Damnit, my brain hurts." I rolled my eyes at JJ, picking up the tackle box.

"Then let's fish and talk. That way you have to stay engaged." No one opposed, Pope and JJ each grabbed a rod and we made our way down to the dock.

"So, think about it Pope, how does a dirtbag marina rat get that much money?" John B asked as I hopped onto the railing beside JJ.

"Prostitution."

"Square groupers, bro." John B corrected. "Okay, flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance. They don't do that stuff during a hurricane.
What does that mean? JJ?" John B through a finger in our direction.

"They were straight smugglin'."

"Smugglin'. And I guarantee there's a serious amount of contraband in that wreck."

"Hell, yeah." I watched amused as JJ pulled the reel back, a fish on the other end. "Fish on."

I don't think anyone realized at that moment that we were just like that fish. Taking the bait.

_______•*•*•*•_______

"For the record, if that is a smuggling ship with illegal contraband on the inside of it, it probably belongs to someone else-"