He found the only remaining valet, between the second and third condo building. “Can I help you unload?” “Watch it for a few minutes.” Smoker handed the valet five bucks. He needed to sniff around the place again, quietly on his own, without desperate realtors or musical wine parties sponsored by the harbormaster. He headed for the moorings and noticed a huge charter boat he’d seen before—Lady Blue—docked where King Rat had been. He went to the end of the pier and watched the crew getting the big yacht ready to leave on its cruise. In the middle of all this activity, a woman was lying on a lounge chair on the sundeck, working on her tan. Smoker was tempted to tell her to hold off sunbathing in her fetching bikini until they lifted anchor and sailed away. To the north of the condo complex was Martin’s Marine boatyard. To the south was a breakwater, a welcoming place for a man to sit alone and fish.
What do You think about West Palm: The Complete Novel?
