"Gray. Safelike." III (Sunfish, 1985)

[riptide_asylum]

Title: Gray. Safelike.
Rating: R / Pre-Slash
Summary: How things got worse, after their client broke into the Riptide and started whaling on them.



Part Two

Nick woke up hearing the urgent whispering of his name. He recognized Cody's voice and tried to reach for him, only to discover his hands were bound behind him, tethered to some type of post. He struggled up to a sitting position, and a splitting headache made its grand entrance.

Nick groaned and tried to go back into the darkness behind his eyes, but the whispers continued, along with a gentle pressure against his shoulder. "Cody?" he asked drowsily.

"Yeah, I'm here, Nick. You okay?"

"Oh yeah," he answered. "Never better. Just thinking of going for a run." Nick opened his eyes with a wince, looking around. They were tied up on the deck of a boat, and it was definitely not the Riptide.

"Better make it a swim, instead," Cody said.

Nick looked around. The night sky had nearly left them by now. In the grim predawn, he could make out the solid plane of the ocean and a cliff running down to meet it without a beach, making do instead with jagged boulders standing guard against the crashing surf.

They were back at Button Beach Bay.

A series of images flashed through Nick's brain as he surveyed their location: yesterday, in the water, Cody searching helplessly for the broken regulator; a stack of wet Polaroids in the bottom of Haskell's safe; Murray's face when Nick confessed---

Nick stifled a groan. Apparently that really had happened. Great. More images: Cody, tense and shaken on the edge of his bunk. Cody, leaning close. "Is it so wrong to want to wake up and find you're perfectly safe? Like that feeling you get when you're with someone you love?"

Whatever else had happened, they definitely hadn't woken up safe.

Nick looked around the boat. The three of them were trussed up on the deck of a cruiser a little smaller than the Riptide, tied to the railing at the stern. Cody would know the specs of the type of boat they were on, but all Nick could tell was that they weren't moving, that they were anchored in the lonely bay. As he looked over at the forbidding silhouette of the jagged coast, a breeze sprang up, drawing tiny whitecaps from the surface of the water nearby, vigorously rocking the boat and adding the tang of nausea to an already fierce headache.

Nick shivered. No one ever thinks of Southern California as cold, he thought. But then again, I wonder how many of those people have woken up at dawn on the deck of a drug-crazed client's sailboat. In their pajamas. With a concussion.

Cody responded to his shiver by sliding a solid shoulder behind Nick's back, offering what warmth he could despite being shirtless and presumably even colder than Nick. That, along with a renewed realization of the danger they were in, was all Nick needed to kick his brain into gear: he had to find them a way out. "Murray?" he asked.

"Over here," came a tired voice. Nick leaned forward to check. Murray sat propped up on Cody's other side, blood caked down the back of his neck. Even leaving out the blood he didn't look too good: too pale, breathing shallowly and slow, eyes not just closed but screwed shut against what light there was.

Nick supposed it could be considered a point in their favor that they were all still alive. But this was a helluva scoring system. "Haskell?" he asked.

"Haven't seen him," Cody answered. "But this is definitely his boat. The Happy Hooker. I've seen her around the pier, but not for awhile. Supposedly he runs fishing charters."

"Fishing charters? Oh yeah." Nick focused on clearing his head. "The minute I saw Haskell, I thought--"

"You thought what, wiseguy?" Haskell stepped out of the hatch. The suit jacket was gone, but despite the lateness of the hour the shirt beneath remained crisp and buttoned under red suspenders. "You thought maybe you wanted to run your mouth some more?"

Haskell's goon emerged just behind his boss, and walked over to Murray, crossing his beefy arms over his chest. Murray opened his eyes and stirred, and Nick had a flash of panic that the little guy would try something heroic at the worst possible time, but Murray's eyes quickly shut again, his head lolling forward onto his chest. Nick didn't know whether to be relieved. Jesus. How hard did Murray get hit?

"You three are trying my considerable patience." Haskell leaned on the roof of the tiny cabin, arms folded. His gray hair was slicked back from a lined and craggy face. Mean little eyes glared out at the three of them. "So now that you've all gotten some beauty sleep, I'll ask you again: where the fuck is my coke?"

"We told you," Cody answered wearily. "We don't know anything about your coke. There was no coke in that safe."

Haskell drummed fat fingers on the roof of the cabin. "I'm trying to figure out why it is, exactly, that I don't believe you."

Nick felt Cody's sigh against his back.

"Now why wouldn't I believe you? Is it because no one else could have taken it? Why yes, I think that might be it. Now that I think of it, no one else could have taken it!"

"What about your ex-wife?" Nick asked.

"You leave her out of it. You don't know anything about her, wiseguy."

"I know she threw your safe overboard."

"She was confused!" Haskell yelled. His controlled demeanor suddenly evaporated. "Okay? She's gotten mixed up with this, this meathead of hers, and she's not thinking clearly and--" He broke off, breathing heavily. "You just leave her out of it," he said softly.

"Mr. Haskell," Cody said slowly, "You're gonna have to trust us: there was no coke."

Their client had recovered his composure and was focused now on brushing imaginary lint from his sleeves. "Well I'm a very trusting guy. So I guess I'll have to believe you." Haskell nodded at his goon and Nick's stomach dropped.

In the split second after he heard Cody cry out, Nick realized he'd be willing to take any amount of pain--let them kill him if that's what it took--as long as they promised not to didn't lay another finger on his partner. Nick generally took this knowledge for granted: it floated inside him, day in and day out, but at that moment, the vital realization of it impelled him to action. "I've got your coke," he said. "These other two had nothing to do with it."

"Untie this asshole," Haskell told the goon. "Finally someone from this two-bit outfit's starting to make sense."

"Nick don't," Cody whispered. "Come on. Don't do this."

As Haskell's ape untied him, Nick looked out at the jagged rocks of the coastline. He noticed a line of tiny white specks perched along the nearest boulder. From the distance, he couldn't tell whether they were seagulls or cormorants or some other type of airborne rat, but the row of birds put him in mind of spectators at ringside, waiting for the fight to begin. Well, he thought, here goes nothing.

"I stashed it back on the Riptide," Nick continued, as the goon knelt and freed his arms. He stood up, gingerly rubbing his wrists. He ignored the ache in his back and shoulders and focused on staying upright, waiting for an opening, or at least keeping Haskell and his thug away from the other two. "Take us to our boat and I'll give it back," he said.

"On the Riptide, huh?"

Nick nodded, eyes fixed on his nemesis.

"That's funny, because I did a pretty thorough job of searching your boat while you and blondie were playing grab-ass in your room, and I didn't come across four kilos of the fine white stuff."

"You wouldn't have known to look where I stashed it. Plenty of places to hide things if you're desperate." Bluff. Bluff hard. "I've got debts," he added as an afterthought. "Free the other two and I'll give you back the coke. No hard feelings, okay?"

"No hard feelings, huh? That's very generous of you, considering the position you and your friends are in." Haskell rolled up his shirtsleeves and crossed the deck. He pulled a revolver from his pocket and clicked off the safety. Before Nick could react, Haskell knelt and shoved the barrel up under Cody's jaw; his other fist closed in Cody's hair, yanking his head back. As Nick watched, Cody swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing near the mouth of the gun.

Nick closed his eyes. Bile rose in his gut. "Did you and Bluto over there think to look over the side? Check for anything secured to the hull?"

Haskell looked at his goon. The goon shrugged. Haskell released Cody and stood, gun still in hand.

"Son, you have obviously mistaken me for someone born yesterday. I know how to play this game, and I know how to win. You know what else I know?"

Nick's head started to pound again. He had a fairly good idea where this was going.

"Either you're lying, or you just played your last card. If you're lying, and the coke's still missing, I get the feeling you all might be telling the truth, and genuinely don't know what happened to my property. If you're not, all I've gotta do is jet back to your crap-ass boat and collect my belongings. Either way, I don't need you three clowns anymore. But here's the thing: I know when someone's lying."

The punch didn't come as a complete surprise, but even so, Nick felt all the wind go out of him in a rush and he went down, dropping to the deck, catching himself on his hands before his head made contact. Get up, he thought. Get the fuck up. You may not get another shot.

He came up with a roar, catching Haskell off-guard with a tackle to the mid-section. The two of them collapsed against the far side of the deck and the gun went skittering out of Haskell's hand. Nick was able to land a couple of solid blows, the satisfying feel of his fists compressing tissue into bone and beyond, before he felt Haskell's goon lift him under the shoulders, pulling him up and away, then tossing him back towards Cody like a sack of potatoes. Nick hit the deck and barely had time to get into a ball before the goon rained down blows like cement blocks, hitting his shoulders, his head, his kidneys. He barely registered Cody's outraged snarls, his feet lashing out at Nick's assailant in sharp kicks. At least one landed, by the sound of a startled woof. Nick wanted to smile at the thought, but too many things hurt. And he still hadn't gotten them anywhere close to being out of this mess.

The blows ceased suddenly as the goon turned towards Cody. Nick struggled weakly onto his knees, summoning up the remainders of his stamina. As the goon drew back to hit Cody, Nick sandbagged him round the knees, with the unfortunate result that all 250 pounds of menace landed on him. He struggled under the mountain of flesh, trying to land blows from underneath.

"Enough!" Haskell yelled. "Get them on their feet." Blood leaked from one corner of Haskell's mouth and he dabbed at it with a handkerchief. A tendril of hair had come unglued and stood up wildly on one side of his head. "They're useless. Let's just get rid of them and figure out how the fuck we're gonna explain this to our distributor."

The goon lifted himself off Nick and gave him one last punch for good measure. Nick rolled onto his side and threw up, his insides on fire in a dozen places. He heard Haskell snicker. "Nice, wiseguy," he said. "Next thing you're gonna tell me my coke might be in that mess, too, huh? Some PI you are."

Nick made no response. He wracked his aching brain for a plan that didn't involve getting beat up some more.

"Oh lay off!" Cody shouted. "We don't have it, and if it's such a big deal, why don't you just hire us to find it?"

Yup, Nick thought. Only Cody would think now's a perfect time for a sales pitch. His next seminar: How to win friends and throw up on people.

"It wasn't in the safe," Cody continued, "so maybe it's just been misplaced, maybe we could help you remember where you really put it."

From his fetal position next to the railing, Nick heard the whine of an approaching outboard motor, cutting off abruptly alongside. Haskell and the goon quickly marched over to intercept it, and Nick crawled over to the railing next to Cody, pulling himself with difficulty into a sitting position, his shoulder pushed up against his partner's, dimly registering that Murray at least, was starting to look better, head up, eyes open and everything. Nick didn't feel so hopeful about his own condition.

On the other side of Cody, Murray's teeth were chattering.

"Piggy Bear!" A shrill woman's voice split the morning air. "It's me, Candy!"

Piggy Bear?

"Candy! Baby!"

Nick groaned, letting his head fall back against the railing. He recognized both the voice and the name.

Haskell reached over the side to offer his hand to a woman with teased red hair and too much makeup. She at least, was dressed warmly for the morning, although given the deep vee of her sweater, Nick was amazed she too wasn't shivering. Climbing over the railing in skintight leather pants was no mean feat, either.

"Let me guess," Cody said with a smile. "Would this be the charming former Mrs Haskell we've heard so much about?"

"Former?" Candy squawked at Haskell. "The ink's not dry on those papers yet and you're already telling everyone you're back on the market? You louse!"

"Oh honey--" Haskell began.

"I'm sure," Murray interrupted, "that Mr Haskell will take your hand in marriage again in a heartbeat."

"Exactly!" Haskell said. "What he said, sugar. In a heartbeat."

"In fact," Murray continued, "he might even hand over the keys to his empire right now."

Haskell turned and glared. "That's enough, shorty. Let's not get carried away here." The goon coughed into his fist and Nick suspected he was covering laughter.

"I've gotta hand it to you, Haskell," Murray said. "You sure have great taste in women."

What's he doing? Nick thought. Why all the hands all of a sudden? He looked down at his own hands, resting lightly atop his knees, cut open in places from his jabs at their captor.

And not tied up at all.

Boz, you're a fucking genius. Nick surreptitiously turned sideways, sliding his fingers behind Cody's back and reaching for the rope that bound him to the railing, wincing as he moved.

"Will you shut him up?" Haskell asked the goon. He turned back to Candy as the goon squatted down next to Murray. "Honey, I am so glad to see you, you would not believe. I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too, Piggy Bear! I feel so awful about this whole misunderstanding!"

"Misunderstanding?" Haskell's brows lowered. "You were banging that louse from the gym! The meathead!"

Nick worked patiently on the knots at Cody's wrists while the happy couple worked through their issues. The earlier wind had died down, and the sun had begun to make its presence felt over the tops of the mountains, but it rendered the coastline no less gray than earlier and brought no warmth to the morning.

"Like I said, I feel awful about the misunderstanding." Candy narrowed her eyes. "Really, Piggy, he meant nothing to me."

"He threw our safe overboard!"

Nick and Cody looked at each other. Our safe?

"So he has a rotten temper," Candy said.

"You told him to do it! And the coke was in there!" Haskell whined. "That was our score! Don't you remember? I set this whole thing up for you, sugarplum!"

Candy smiled coyly. "I know, Piggy, and that's why I have a surprise for you. I took the coke."

"You did?" Haskell asked in unison with the three PI's.

"Of course she did," Cody muttered, gently working his wrists against the loosening ropes. "Makes perfect sense."

"I took it for safekeeping," she continued. "Don't you trust me, Piggy?"

"Sugarplum! Baby! Of course I trust you!" Haskell cooed. "Does this mean you'll be my little lambchop again?"

"Sugarplum? Lampchop?" Nick said softly. "I think I'm gonna be sick again." Cody chuckled, and the sound gave Nick hope that they'd make it out of this alive. Unfortunately, it also alerted Mrs Haskell to their presence.

"Who are these guys?" she asked Haskell, then turned to look at them.

"Hey Nick," Cody whispered. "Didn't you used to--"

"Don't--" Nick answered.

"Nicky!" The former and future Mrs Haskell teetered across the deck in high-heeled red sandals, squatting down in front of Nick and throwing her arms around his neck. Nick turned his head to the side to avoid a swipe of her red lipstick.

"--remind me," he finished. Cody snickered.

Haskell turned pale. "You banged my lady?" he asked softly. "I am gonna destroy you, wiseguy. Slowly. Very, very slowly." He went over and picked up the gun from where it had fallen earlier on the deck and checked the chambers with a quick spin.

"Hey wait a minute," Cody protested, struggling furiously with the rope still around his hands. Nick had managed to free him from the railing, but his hands remained tied. "I'm sure Nick and Miss uh, Candy, weren't dating at the same time you were married to her," Cody said, looking sideways at Nick. "I know he wouldn't do something like that. You wouldn't, right Nick?" Cody tried.

"Now," their client continued, idly spinning the chambers of the gun, "you might think I'm about to lose it, start shooting up the place, but you'd be wrong."

"Baby!" Candy squealed. "Put that away! You know I can't stand that thing!"

Haskell gave her a hard look. "Pipe down, unless you want me to end our marriage the permanent way."

For a wonder, Candy did as she was told, folding her arms over her chest and pouting. But at least it was now a quiet pout.

Haskell nodded at his associate. "Untie the little guy." The goon complied, freeing Murray's hands and yanking him roughly to his feet, knocking his glasses off in the process. With a smirk, the goon picked them up, folded them neatly and tucked them in Murray's shirt pocket.

"Now, you might think I'd shoot your friend here," Haskell said, waving the gun idly in Murray's direction. "And don't think that didn't cross my mind. But I think that's too good for you, wiseguy. When I said I was gonna destroy you, I meant it."

Nick and Cody struggled to their feet, the latter working furiously to untie the ropes around his hands.

"You know how I'm gonna start?" Haskell continued. "By letting you watch your friends die first." He nodded at his goon; the big man picked up Murray as if he weighed no more than an infant and tossed him overboard, into the water. Murray disappeared with a yell and a splash as Cody and Nick let out simultaneous shouts of anger.

"Now the blond," Haskell directed. "But the wiseguy stays here."

Nick and Cody backed away from the advancing thug. Cody tossed the rope which had bound his hands to the deck. "This could be bad, Nick," he said with a quick look at the gray sea behind them.

"You got a better plan?" Nick asked.

"On three," his partner replied. "One..."

"Two," Nick said, and they leapt for the railing in unison, falling into the water just beyond the reach of their assailant's outstretched hands.

Part Four