Fallen Pride (Jesse McDermitt Series) by Wayne Stinnett Read Free Book Online

ground, Beaver one three eight five with request.” The controller said to go ahead. “Be advised, slight change to our flight plan. We’ll make a water landing in the Content Keys to discharge one canine passenger.”
    “Key West ground, roger. Upon landing, give Carl and the family my best.”
    I looked questioningly at Williams. He toggled the intercom switch, shrugged and said, “It’s a small island.”
    Williams taxied the plane to the west end of the single runway and set the brakes. Then he pushed the throttle forward and the airplane shuddered against the brakes.
    Throttling back, he switched the radio frequency and said, “Beaver one three eight five is holding short of runway 9 at Bravo”. A new voice came over the radio, “Beaver one three eight five, Key West Tower, roger. Traffic niner miles inbound is a Cessna. Runway niner, wind 120 at 8, cleared for takeoff, report clear to the northeast. Have a safe flight.”
    He again repeated and confirmed the instructions then released the brakes before pushing the throttle forward again. We pulled onto the runway and turned into the wind as he pulled the flaps lever back. We slowly accelerated down the runway and at 65 knots, lifted off the ground only half way down the runway. He climbed to 1500 feet , reported he was clear of the field and headed northeast toward my island home.
    We were only going to be there for half an hour. I’d been away for over a week and Trent was busy building a little house for his family. He was also building an aquaculture system to raise crawfish and vegetables and I wanted to check on his progress. We’d originally planned to raise tilapia and catfish, but changed our minds to crawfish. He has a friend in Belize that raises fresh water shrimp and he wanted to mimic his system as much as we could. Besides, I love Cajun crawfish.
    The wind was out of the east, as usual in early summer. We came in low over the tiny island just northwest of mine and settled into the shallow channel north of my home. We turned and came back to the long pier on the north end of the island. As we approached, I saw Trent coming between the two small buildings, which I’d added last winter, and out onto the pier.
    Deuce opened the port side door and stepped out onto the pontoon. As we neared the end of the pier, Williams cut the power and Deuce stepped off onto it, holding the wing strut and easing the bird against the rubber fenders. He quickly tied the pontoon off to two cleats on the pier and the rest of us climbed out.
    Pescador took off down the pier at a full run, shooting past Trent and only stopped to lift his leg on a mangrove at the water line. Then he took off again, looking for the kids.
    “Welcome home, Jesse. I thought you guys were going up to North Carolina today.” Then nodding to Deuce he added, “Good to see you again, Deuce.”
    “I thought Pescador might like to see the kids while we’re gone. And I wanted to see how things were coming along here, too.”
    “Hey Carl,” Rusty said as he struggled through the small hatch. Rusty’s not very tall, only about 5’-6”, but a portly, albeit solid, 300 pounds.
    “Come on,” Trent said, “I’ve got quite a bit done this past week.”
    “I need to make a call,” Williams said.
    “Best place is up on the front deck of the main house,” I said. “Really about the only place you can get a cell signal.”
    The five of us walked toward shore, where Trent’s wife, Charlie, was waiting. Williams said hi and kept on going across the clearing toward the main house. The rest of us talked for a moment at the end of the pier and then walked to the west side of the island, where Trent was building his little house. He had gotten a lot of work done. When I left to go treasure hunting, he’d only had the concrete piers poured. Since there wasn’t anyone currently staying in the bunkhouses, they’d remained living in the western one, while working on the aquaculture system. Two weeks