Fallen Pride (Jesse McDermitt Series) Read Online Free Page A

for the ten hour run.

Chapter 3: Red Right Returning
    We pushed a little faster than normal cruising speed. What the hell, we had over a million dollars in gold. Burning a little more fuel wasn’t about to break us. We arrived at Rusty’s home and place of business, the Rusty Anchor Bar and Grill , at 0300 to a less than millionaire welcome.
    Tying off to the dock, we noticed that there were no lights on in either the liveaboards, or the bar. Not really unusual, as closing time was 0200 or whenever Rusty chose. Since the Florida state tax official and the appraiser from the Historical Society weren’t due to arrive until 0800, we moved the gold to the forward stateroom. I have a digitally controlled lock that allows the bunk to be raised and a large storage chest under it with a combination padlock, along with several other smaller boxes and cases. The chest had plenty of room for the gold and with it being inside a locked chest, under a locked bunk, inside a locked cabin, with a security system, we agreed it was safe.
    The three of us decided a drink was in order to celebrate our new found fortune. Walking to the bar, I heard a dog bark and my big Portuguese water dog came bounding around the corner from the back yard.
    “Pescador! How ya doing buddy?”
    He was excited that I was home, obviously. His heavy tail was nearly wagging him as he jumped from one of us to the other, accepting ear scratches.
    Rusty unlocked the door and we went inside. He’d left his cook, Rufus, in charge and hired my former First Mate, Jimmy, to help out behind the bar. The place looked just as clean and spotless as it did when we left.
    Rusty walked behind the bar, pulled a bottle out from one of the lower cabinets and three highball glasses. “Pusser’s?”
    “Absolutely,” I replied. “ Admiral Nelson’s best.”
    He poured two fingers in each glass and we sat down at the end of the bar. Pescador lay down by the door, as he usually did.
    “What do you think the appraiser’s gonna say, Jesse?” Rusty asked.
    I thought about it for a minute. I was no expert on lost treasure, but Deuce’s dad and I had found some years ago. We’d sold it for the melt value, to a less than reputable dealer to avoid the taxes. Afterward, we learned that sometimes the intrinsic value was high enough that paying the taxes yielded more return. However, that was only for treasure found outside the territorial waters. “I’m not a hundred percent certain about the amount, but this being Civil War treasure it’s bound to be quite a bit more than the melt value, even after taxes. I’d guess about two million. He’s going to try to lowball us, though. The tax man will help us get the best price.”
    “Yeah,” Deuce said laughing. “So the state can get a bigger share of it.”
    Rusty put the bottle back in the cabinet and said, “We better get a little rest. It’s gonna be a long day.”
    Deuce and I headed down to the docks, while Rusty locked up and walked to his little Conch house next to the bar. Julie had been trying to talk Deuce into buying a boat for several months. She wanted a little houseboat they could dock here at the marina. Deuce had decided on a 42 foot Whitby cutter rigged ketch, though. I had to admit it was a nice little blue water cruiser. Doc Talbot, my First Mate, and I had helped crew her when Deuce flew to Bimini and bought her. Julie still didn’t know about it. They were getting married in two weeks and he was going to take her cruising to the Lesser Antilles for a month long honeymoon.
    As we walked along the docks he asked, “How should this be split up, Jesse? I really don’t need or want any of it.”
    “You have more than yourself to think of, old son. Julie’s a sensible girl and doesn’t need much, but one day you’re going to have kids and they’ll need to go to college. Besides, it was your dad’s find. I propose a five way split after the state takes its share. Twenty percent to the three of us, another