Caribbean Rescue (Coastal Fury Book 16) - Matt Lincoln (reading tree .TXT) 📗

Caribbean Rescue

Coastal Fury book 16

Matt Lincoln

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

2. Olivia

3. Ethan

4. Olivia

5. Ethan

6. Olivia

7. Ethan

8. Ethan

9. Ethan

10. Ethan

11. Ethan

12. Ethan

13. Ethan

14. Ethan

15. Ethan

16. Ethan

17. Ethan

18. Ethan

19. Ethan

20. Ethan

21. Ethan

22. Ethan

23. Ethan

24. Olivia

25. Ethan

26. Ethan

27. Ethan

28. Ethan

29. Ethan

30. Ethan

31. Ethan

Epilogue

Author’s Note

Prologue

It was the height of summer in Miami, and the Rolling Thunder was packed. The beaches were crowded with families that had descended upon Miami in droves as soon as school had let out, and even my own bar, usually frequented only by older professionals and retirees, was bustling with new faces. Among them were more than a few haggard-looking dads who had likely slipped away to have a drink and a few minutes of peace, at least according to Mike.

“What do you think?” Mike asked me as he nodded toward a man sitting at the other end of the bar, steadily draining a pint of strong beer. “That safari hat he’s wearing screams ‘dad,’ don’t you think? Only people with like four kids wear stuff like that.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” I asked, as I moved to refill his own pint. “Why are you always here? Shouldn’t you be off golfing or doing whatever it is that retired people do?”

Mike was the former owner of the Rolling Thunder, though back when it was under his control, it was a tacky, tiki-themed shack known as Mike’s Tropical Tango Hut. Nevertheless, even after selling it to me, it felt like he was still here all the time.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he countered as he took a sip of his beer. “Rhoda and Nadia handle everything here pretty well. You retired from MBLIS, and yet here you are every day.”

“This is my bar,” I retorted as I took a look around the place I’d lovingly transformed from a kitschy dive into a place people might actually enjoy drinking at. “But yeah, I guess you’re right.”

MBLIS, or the Military Border Liaison Investigative Services, was the name of the government agency that I had spent most of my life working for. It had already been a few years since I’d retired and taken over the bar, but I’d have been lying if I said I didn’t miss those days sometimes, especially when my favorite group of kids stopped by to hassle me for a story about the good old days. Even after I’d retired, the idea of spending all of my time lounging around just didn’t appeal to me. I’d always been drawn to action and adrenaline, and though the bar wasn’t exactly the most high-energy place, it was certainly better than spending all of my time lazing around.

“‘Course I’m right,” Mike replied. “And besides, it’s fun trying to people-read, don’t you think? Now, look at that guy and tell me he didn’t come to Miami with his wife and four kids.”

I rolled my eyes at his antics, but looked over at the man, anyway. He was wearing one of those wide-brimmed hats with the flap that comes down the back to protect your neck from getting sunburned. He was also wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a painfully ugly blue and yellow tropical-patterned button-down over a plain white t-shirt. His outfit definitely screamed tourist, but it was the wedding band on his finger and the fanny pack strapped around his waist that made me think that Mike’s assessment might be right.

“Yeah, I could see that.” I shrugged as I poured myself a pint of my own. If I was going to play this silly game with Mike, I might as well enjoy it. “I don’t know, though. He might just be married.”

“Nah.” Mike shook his head confidently. “Newlywed guys don’t dress like that. That right there is a man who has changed diapers.”

“How would you know?” I laughed before taking a sip of my beer.

“I ran a bar for decades,” Mike replied confidently. “You see all kinds working this kind of job. At this point, I can tell about a hundred things about a person with a single glance. Just give it a few years running this place, you’ll be able to read people with just a look, too.”

“Whatever you say, Mike.” I smiled at him as I took another sip of my beer.

Even though it was busy, most of the crowd tonight was on the older side and relatively calm. It was nothing like some of the trendier places along the beach, which would no doubt be filled with college students and kids from the nearby base. It was calm enough that I could humor Mike for a little while longer while he pointed out which customers were definitely fathers because of some minuscule detail about their clothing or appearance.

“You ever wish you’d given it a try?” Mike asked me a little wistfully.

“What?” I snorted. “Entertaining myself by making up wild backstories for random strangers? Can’t say I have.”

“No,” he scoffed as he drained the last of his current pint. “You know, the easy life. Actual retirement. Vacations that don’t involve getting into gunfights with international crime lords.”

“I think you might be going senile in your old age,” I deadpanned. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d ever be the kind of guy to just… do nothing.

“You’re a smart-ass,” Mike snorted.

“I learned from the best,” I countered as I moved to refill his pint again.

We continued with our antics through several pints, until the sun was starting to go down, and by then, it was getting late enough that the bar was starting to dwindle down to my regulars.

“Where’s your fan club today?” Mike asked, as he lifted the glass to his lips.

“The kids from the base?” I clarified. “Haven’t seen them in a few days.”

“Huh,” Mike remarked with surprise. “Seems like they’re always here. At least, any time I happen to stop by. Feels a lot quieter without them around.”

As if on cue, the door to the bar burst