The Branson Beauty (3 page)

“. . if you're sure your boat can do it,” Freedman was saying.

The commander got even starchier. “I've been saying repeatedly that my boat can do it. We can even push this sorry hulk all the way to shore if it's too damaged to make it on its own. I—”

Hank interrupted. “When might that happen? I don't think we have much longer before things start to get really ugly in there. These old folks expected to be gone for two, two-and-a-half hours, tops. It's been almost six. They're running out of food and water. And medicine. And probably toilet paper.”

All three men shuddered at that.

“The tug will be here within two hours,” the commander said.

Hank sighed with relief and started to turn away.

“Not so fast,” Bill said. “It's not going to be that simple.”

Hank stopped.

“The tug will push the boat out, but it won't be able to lift this paddlewheel off those rocks.”

He pointed, and all three leaned over the back rail. The huge red wheel was locked in between boulders as big as cars. It wasn't going anywhere, regardless of the Coast Guard's tug-boat.

“We figure we can detach it, but if we do that in the next two hours, it's going to be pretty ugly. Basically just hacking the supports off, slicing through the hydraulics, that kind of thing,” Bill continued.

“Gallagher's not going to like that any,” Hank said.

Bill and the commander looked at each other. The commander jerked his head toward Hank as if to say, you tell him.

Bill cleared his throat. “Yeah, well. That's why we figured you would be the best one to have that talk with him. Him being your constituent and all.”

They had to be kidding. He didn't know anything about boats. Or water. Or hydraulics. But unfortunately, he did know a few things about Henry Gallagher. The guy hadn't built one of the most successful businesses in southern Missouri by being a pushover. He'd come into town a few years before and bought the
Beauty
and several other entertainment enterprises that had all been owned by local families. Add up all of his new holdings, and he employed more people than anyone else in town. He softened the hard-charging business image with some pretty good philanthropy—sponsoring several charities and single-handedly paying to save the county animal shelter from closure last year. But that didn't mean he would readily sacrifice his assets. Especially a five-ton behemoth painted such a pretty shade of red.

The two men staring at him mistook his silence.

“You're the highest county official we've got,” Bill said.

“And we've heard such good things about your, um, tact and diplomacy,” the commander said.

Thanks, Ramrod.

“Uh-huh. But you're right. Bill, you take your boat back to the dock to pick up some guys who can hack this thing off. I'll have to come with you. I don't think I can get a secure communication off this boat, and I don't want the world to hear the conversation I'm going to have to have with Gallagher.”

He turned. “Commander, as long as you're putting this one on me, you get to make the rounds inside. Reassure everybody that their rescue is coming. Hold some old ladies' hands. Oh, and stop in up at the pilothouse. I don't want anybody moving or talking to that captain until I get back.”

The commander nodded and headed for the
Beauty
's bow. He and Bill made their way to the gate in the railing. There was no Tony this time. The two made it into the boat—Bill jumping lightly in, Hank landing with a thud as his heavy snow boots skidded.

They made the long trip back to the dock in silence. Hank hunched down into his coat, trying to avoid the wind created by the speeding boat. They pulled up alongside the dock. Convinced he was twice as frozen as before he'd left land, Hank eyed the four-foot vault off the boat.

“Chief! Chief! Here, sir!”

Well, thank goodness. For once, he was grateful for the Pup's inexhaustible exuberance. He took the offered hand and hoisted himself onto dry land.

“Good to see you, Chief,” said the Pup.

“Thanks, Sam. How long have you been here?”

“Got here right as you were pulling away to go out to the
Beauty
,” he said. “I've been coordinating with Larry and the fire guys. Got five other deputies up at the park doing crowd control. The roads guys haven't been very cooperative, though. They're threatening to take their bulldozers and go home.”

Nice.

“And the press is screaming for somebody to make a statement,” Sam the Pup continued. “They cornered Gallagher a little bit ago, but I got them pushed back to the top of the road. They're not allowed down here at the dock anymore.”

Even better. After that, Gallagher would probably be in a fine mood for their little chat.

“Where is Gallagher now?” he asked.

Sam pointed over toward a stand of trees just off the dock. Hank saw the Company Man crouching as he tried to balance a laptop on a rock. Gallagher stood silently over him.

“Thanks, Sam. Now I need you to get me whoever is in charge of the road guys. We don't need the bulldozers, but we do need saws and drills and maybe some sledgehammers. Get the supervisor down here so I can talk to him.”

Sam gave a quick head bob, then turned and bolted up the hill. Hank watched him go. After almost six months of working with the kid, Hank still had no idea how he managed not to trip over those enormous feet.

He took a deep breath, which thankfully did not lead to a bout of choking on the frigid air, and strode toward Gallagher.

“Mr. Gallagher. Could I have a word?”

“Of course.” They moved off to the side. Hank explained the tugboat and the boulders and the food shortage.

“Why can't you ferry them all to shore in motorboats?” Gallagher asked.

“Several reasons. The wind keeps increasing, and the water is too choppy for all but the healthiest people to handle. And this dock requires a four-foot jump to get up on it from the boat. We need a landing location that can handle a gangplank, and this is not it.”

Hank took a breath and continued.

“If we remove the paddlewheel, we can get the boat to a suitable docking location within two or three hours. But we think that's going to mean basically hacking the thing off. If we take the time to do it right, those passengers will still be out there come morning.”

Gallagher looked out through the gathering darkness at his boat. The pinched look on his thin face got even worse. Hank stuffed his hands in his pockets and waited. After a very long minute, Gallagher let out a long breath. Hank didn't realize he'd been holding it.

“All right, Sheriff. It is…”—he paused—“… the only good option for my passengers. But I would like to get my maintenance men down here to help with the work. They might know how to salvage at least some of it.”

“Of course,” Hank said. “We now have two boats capable of taking people out to the
Beauty
. I need to get back out there myself.”

“I'll have my men here in fifteen minutes. With equipment.” Gallagher spun around and marched toward the Company Man, who had given up on his laptop-balancing act. A few swift sentences, and the Company Man was running up the hill to the road, where he could get a cell signal and call in the death warrant for his boss's boat.

*   *   *

Half an hour later, Hank clambered back onto the
Beauty
. He'd been forced to hike to the road and give the hovering TV cameras a statement before coming back. He hoped he hadn't had frost on his eyebrows. If it was cold before, now it was almost unbearable. The temperature had to be near zero. And now the clouds were starting to roll in. There would be a storm before the night was over. He prayed they'd have the boat to shore by then.

Tony must have seen them coming. He met them at the gate. Hank smiled at him and introduced the Pup.

“This is Deputy Samuel Karnes. He's here to help out. You have a status report for me?”

“Yes, sir. Three more people in the main salon have had to go on oxygen. We're almost completely out of food, but your guys did bring out a load of bottled water, which has helped. The, uh, facilities, um, are starting to back up. Not good, that. And we had an emergency in the showroom when a lady's rosary broke, but we managed to string it back together with dental floss somebody had in her purse.”

Well, thank God for that.

“And your captain?”

“Yeah.” Tony stared at his feet again. “He's about the same, sir, from what I hear. I haven't actually gone back up there.”

Hank didn't blame the kid. It had been a pretty freaky sight.

“Well, Tony, we should be off this boat within two or three hours. I need you to stay here and meet the folks who'll be coming shortly. They're Gallagher's maintenance men, and they'll be removing the paddlewheel.”

Tony's eyes got wide.“How are they going to do that?”

“That's a very good question. I have no idea. You and Sam make sure they have what they need, though, okay?”

Tony straightened. “You bet, sir.”

Hank set off for the showroom, where he found a decidedly more cranky group than he'd seen earlier. Still, they weren't doing too badly, considering. Several card games were going at different tables. The guy on the floor had awakened and was doing a series of yoga poses in a corner of the room. Hank gave the crowd the new timetable, which was met with scattered grumbles. He gave them his best smile and was turning to leave when an image of his wife's yoga workout videos popped into his head. She was always happier after she did one of them. He walked over and spoke quietly to Sleepy Guy, then headed upstairs.

The folks in the lounge were in better moods, but worse health. One of the teenagers was crying.

“I'm glad you're back.”

Hank turned to see the commander walk in. “The medic is in the staff break room downstairs,” Ramrod said. “One of the waitresses collapsed.”

Hank grunted. “Three hours, max, until we're out of here.”

“Thank God,” the commander said. “I'll go find Freedman and see what we can do down at the paddlewheel. Oh, and you, ah, might want to check in on your guy upstairs.”

Hank nodded. That was definitely his next stop. He stepped into the pilothouse and was met with the sound of sobbing. Medic One, looking quite harassed, pointed at Albert.

“He started this about a half hour ago. Won't stop. It's driving me crazy.”

Albert still had the sunglasses on, but he had hunched forward and was rocking back and forth. Hank pulled a piece of paper out of his inside coat pocket. Sheila the miracle worker had somehow gotten it down to the lake and into Sam's hands before they'd come back out to the
Beauty
.

“Sir. I have here a court order that allows us to draw blood from your person. I need to ask for your cooperation now.”

Medic One eagerly reached for a needle. Hank shot him a warning look, and he slowed down before maneuvering it into the captain's arm. Albert stopped rocking, but the sobbing continued. Hank sighed and looked out the window. Someone had turned the big boat's floodlights on, pushing back the darkness. He saw another small boat coast up to the
Beauty
. It was packed with men and some big sawlike equipment. And Henry Gallagher. He stood stickstraight in the bow, with his perfectly tailored overcoat fluttering in the now-gusting wind.

“Okay,” the medic said behind him. “Here you go.”

He started to hand Hank a vial of blood, but Hank shook his head and pulled a set of stickers out of his pocket. “You have to seal it, sign across the sticker, and then initial here,” he said. “Chain of custody.” He glanced at the still-rocking Albert. “Something tells me you'll have to testify to this at some point.”

The medic chuckled. “Yeah, when all these people sue this joker. You don't ruin a bunch of old people's lunch cruise without there being serious consequences, man.”

Hank grinned in agreement. Tailored coat or not, he would not want to be Henry Gallagher right now. He wondered what the big boss was doing.

“I've got to go check on the paddlewheel removal,” he said. “I'm going to have to ask you to stay with him.”

Medic One frowned, but Hank was already out the door. By the time he'd made his way down to the paddlewheel, he could hear the whine of saws. The men wielding them looked to be having a great time attacking the huge wooden beams. Bill and Commander Ramrod stood off to the side.

“Where's Gallagher?” Hank asked.

“I think he went upstairs,” Bill said. “Something about checking on his guests.”

Sam appeared at Hank's elbow. The little group watched with a certain wicked enjoyment as the paddlewheel was severed from the boat. As the workers got to the last connecting piece, a horn blast cut through the frigid air.

“That would be my tug,” the commander said with a smile.

It nosed in slowly and bumped against the
Beauty
. The commander nodded, and the two men holding the saw gave one last slice. The
Beauty
swung free.

*   *   *

The snow fell in devilish swirls around the passengers as they slowly filed down the walkways to a long gangplank that led them—finally—to solid ground. All of Larry's guys and every available gurney in the county had come aboard first; no matter how crotchety and independent, no old folks had any desire to roll their wheelchairs through the icy gusts and onto shore. They submitted to the firefighters' transport with a minimum of grumbling. Small favors, Hank thought. He found Tony putting masking-tape name tags on the many chairs left behind.

“Come on,” he said. “I need you to take me through the whole boat. We have to make sure everyone's off.”

Tony hesitated and looked down at the roll of tape in his hands. “Yes, sir,” he said. He stuffed the tape roll in his pocket and led the way.