{Chapter Five} Not So Incognito

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The Pogues immediately left the area to gather at the Chateau and discuss whatever the hell they had found themselves in the middle of.

Pope was once again pacing the length of the porch as he tried to come up with the best solution. "Okay, so, we didn't see anything. We don't know anything. We need to have complete and total amnesia."

"Actually, Pope's right, for once." JJ agreed before standing up from the armchair looking like he was about to give a scholarly lecture. "See, I agree with you sometimes. Deny, deny, deny."

Indi nodded her head in response. "Okay, let's start now. All those in favour of throwing the gun in the ocean, say I."

"I!" Pope, Kie and Indi said in unison with their arms raised in the air and their focus on JJ.

JJ shook his head and rolled his eyes at the sensible option.

"Guys, we can't keep that money either," Kiara added.

"Not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara," JJ replied with a sigh, which, admittedly, made John B and Indi laugh.

Kie let out a sigh as well. "We have to pass that off to Lana Grubbs. Otherwise, it's bad karma."

Indi shot up from her previously slouched position on the couch. "That's me sold. I don't need anymore bad karma. I already have bad enough luck as it is."

"Bad karma to be implicated in a felony, too." Pope added, clearly referencing his scholarship. "We gotta go dark."

"If that means keeping the money, then I agree." JJ told the boy.

John B placed his hand on JJ's shoulder and finally gave his opinion on the matter at hand. "I don't agree."

"Just think about it. This is Scooter Grubbs we're talking about. Same dude that's buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole " John B continued. "Shit, one time I saw him 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 more than forty bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden he's got a Grady-White?"

Pope left the Chateau and made his way down to the dock, because the Pogues had found out that being around water calms him down, and so they all followed him down there to continue the conversation.

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

"Prostitution," Pope snarkily answered before he cast the fishing rod out into the water.

"Square grouper, bro." John B answered his own question. "Okay, flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance. They don't do that stuff in a hurricane. What does that mean? JJ?"

"They were straight smuggling," JJ answered immediately, proud of himself for knowing the right answer.

"Smugglin'," John B echoed, folding his arms across his chest. "I can guarantee there's a serious amount of contraband in that wreck."

Once again the conversation had shifted location again, after Pope had failed to catch a fish. This time they had gathered in Indi's bedroom.

Indi hated anytime they were all in her bedroom because JJ always seemed to get bored and mess with her stuff. The last time they were in there he played around with her centuries old sewing machine and stitched his finger to the shorts she was working on.

"For the record," Pope began, holding up his finger. "If that is a smuggling ship with illegal contraband on it, it probably belongs to someone else. They could come looking for it. Taking it would be catastrophically stupid."

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