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Authors: Randy Wayne White
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complicated and meaningless bureauspeak: The Florida Fish and Conservation Commission, which almost no one acknowledges. Neither, apparently, did the officer investigating from that agency, a man named McRae, since he was wearing his Marine Patrol uniform. He hadn’t said much, but now he spoke. “Doctor Ford’s got a pretty solid reputation around the islands, almost anyone who works on the water can vouch for that. But look, I’ve got to agree with Deputy Walker, Doc, I think you’re leaving out big chunks in your story. You jog out onto the dock and see men wearing ski masks, at least one of them armed, and you just happen to knock the two women into the water and help them get away? That’s not easy to believe. I’m sorry.”
They were pressing pretty hard, but I had no choice but to keep stonewalling. Like I said, I couldn’t afford the scrutiny that would come with admitting my involvement.
I let them see how exasperated I was becoming. “Isn’t that what I’ve been telling you all along? I didn’t save anyone. I’ve described what happened over and over. When I saw the guy fire his pistol, I panicked. Somehow, I knocked the women into the water when I tried to jump over the railing. Hell, maybe I did grab them. But it wasn’t intentional. I was trying to save my own life, not theirs. So then those guys keep shooting and the only thing I can think to do is climb in their boat and get the hell out of there. Which is just what I did.”
Waldman’s cell phone began to ring, and he left the room to answer it as I added, “I told the women to run to the mangroves, and I would’ve done the same thing if I could’ve. They were still shooting and it was scary as hell.”
“How many shots?”
“A couple. Several. Lots. I didn’t count.”
“All those rounds fired and you managed to dodge every one of them. You must be quick as hell.”
“I’ve already answered that question too many times.”
McRae said, “When you got in the boat, was there anyone else in it? How’d you get control?”
I said, “I just climbed in and hit the throttle and their guy went flying off the stern. I was in a panic. You ever have anyone shoot at you before?”
“And one of the rounds hit you in the arm.”
“No. Absolutely not. I’m not going to explain it again.”
“Um-huh. Your arm and your face, they both got cut up on the dock when you fell?”
I nodded. “Maybe I need to write it down so you’ll remember. I keep repeating myself, but you don’t seem to hear. The whole thing’s a blur. I’m not sure what happened when. I must have sliced my arm open when I crashed through the railing on the dock. Banging into the pilings with my face, that much I do remember. I was probably in shock. Probably still am in shock. Men in ski masks shooting guns like out of some crazy movie. It’s not the sort of thing I’m used to seeing.”
McRae now wore a soft smile. “Then I’ve got to ask you one more time—mind if we take a look at that cut on your arm?”
“Nope. I unwrap it, it might start bleeding again.”
“That’s what I figured. One phone call to the right judge, and we can have a deputy bring a court order out and place it in your hands. A piece of paper that says you’ve got no choice. We can make you take that bandage off and show us. Isn’t that right, Officer Walker?”
As the woman nodded, Tomlinson interrupted, not bothering to disguise his outrage. “Hold on there, Dirty Harry. First you call him a hero, then you threaten him like he’s a criminal? Very uncool, man, very, very uncool. That is a very serious conflict of vibes.”
McRae looked at him for a moment before he said, “What did you call me?”
Tomlinson has a longstanding and irrational dislike of people in law enforcement that’s gotten him into trouble more than once. He does not share my belief that most people in the emergency services tend to be better at their jobs than most others.
I cringed a little as he said,
They were pressing pretty hard, but I had no choice but to keep stonewalling. Like I said, I couldn’t afford the scrutiny that would come with admitting my involvement.
I let them see how exasperated I was becoming. “Isn’t that what I’ve been telling you all along? I didn’t save anyone. I’ve described what happened over and over. When I saw the guy fire his pistol, I panicked. Somehow, I knocked the women into the water when I tried to jump over the railing. Hell, maybe I did grab them. But it wasn’t intentional. I was trying to save my own life, not theirs. So then those guys keep shooting and the only thing I can think to do is climb in their boat and get the hell out of there. Which is just what I did.”
Waldman’s cell phone began to ring, and he left the room to answer it as I added, “I told the women to run to the mangroves, and I would’ve done the same thing if I could’ve. They were still shooting and it was scary as hell.”
“How many shots?”
“A couple. Several. Lots. I didn’t count.”
“All those rounds fired and you managed to dodge every one of them. You must be quick as hell.”
“I’ve already answered that question too many times.”
McRae said, “When you got in the boat, was there anyone else in it? How’d you get control?”
I said, “I just climbed in and hit the throttle and their guy went flying off the stern. I was in a panic. You ever have anyone shoot at you before?”
“And one of the rounds hit you in the arm.”
“No. Absolutely not. I’m not going to explain it again.”
“Um-huh. Your arm and your face, they both got cut up on the dock when you fell?”
I nodded. “Maybe I need to write it down so you’ll remember. I keep repeating myself, but you don’t seem to hear. The whole thing’s a blur. I’m not sure what happened when. I must have sliced my arm open when I crashed through the railing on the dock. Banging into the pilings with my face, that much I do remember. I was probably in shock. Probably still am in shock. Men in ski masks shooting guns like out of some crazy movie. It’s not the sort of thing I’m used to seeing.”
McRae now wore a soft smile. “Then I’ve got to ask you one more time—mind if we take a look at that cut on your arm?”
“Nope. I unwrap it, it might start bleeding again.”
“That’s what I figured. One phone call to the right judge, and we can have a deputy bring a court order out and place it in your hands. A piece of paper that says you’ve got no choice. We can make you take that bandage off and show us. Isn’t that right, Officer Walker?”
As the woman nodded, Tomlinson interrupted, not bothering to disguise his outrage. “Hold on there, Dirty Harry. First you call him a hero, then you threaten him like he’s a criminal? Very uncool, man, very, very uncool. That is a very serious conflict of vibes.”
McRae looked at him for a moment before he said, “What did you call me?”
Tomlinson has a longstanding and irrational dislike of people in law enforcement that’s gotten him into trouble more than once. He does not share my belief that most people in the emergency services tend to be better at their jobs than most others.
I cringed a little as he said,
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