riptide_asylum (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
riptide_asylum) wrote2011-01-11 07:08 pm
riptide_asylum) wrote2011-01-11 07:08 pm
Entry tags:
"Knowledge is Power" (Sunfish, 1986)
Title: Knowledge is Power
Rating: PG
Summary: When Cody is thought to be dead, nothing will make Nick believe it, for a very special reason...
Lieutenant Ted Quinlan marched down the pier, looking neither to the left or right. His usual swagger was absent, and he strode like a man on a mission, which indeed he was.
He paused for a moment at the gate to slip 7, satisfying himself that the red Corvette and the red and white Jimmy were parked in their places, then squared his shoulders and marched on down the companionway.
"Ahoy the Riptide!" he shouted, but the only answer came from a couple of gulls riding in the Barefoot Contessa's rigging. Quinlan shouted again, and then when no answer was forthcoming, went aboard.
He entered the salon to hear a loud bong from somewhere below, and moments later, skinny, geeky Murray Bozinsky scrambled up the steps. A white lab coat was bunched across his shoulders, and his glasses were askew.
"Lieutenant Quinlan! What can I do for you?" Murray pulled his glasses off and began polishing them absently on the tail of his coat.
Quinlan cleared his throat. "Ryder here?" he asked gruffly.
"Nick?" Murray looked around as though expecting to see his partner somewhere in the salon. Disguised as the coffeepot, maybe, Quinlan thought grimly.
"Yeah," he said. "Nick. Is he here?"
"I'm not--oh!" Murray grinned as though he'd just had a brainwave. "No, Nick's taken the FAA inspector up in the Mimi. Hey, I'm sorry lieutenant, I'm so absorbed in my project I've forgotten my manners. Would you like a cup of coffee?"
"I'm not here for coffee."
Murray drew back a pace and Quinlan cursed himself. He was making a hash of it, but then, he'd never intended to break the news he bore to fragile little Murray. But if Ryder was up in the sky, he didn't see he had a lot of choice.
"I'm sorry, kid," he said, more gently. "If you're having coffee, I'd like one."
Murray broke into a smile of pure happiness and poured for them both. "Of course I didn't think you were here for coffee. What is it, Lieutenant? Can we help you in some way? Nick's not in any trouble, is he?"
Quinlan sat where Murray pointed and watched sadly as Murray sat down on the bench opposite. "No, Bozinsky. Ryder's not in any trouble," he said heavily, and ran a hand over his face. He'd done this sort of thing a thousand times, and it never got any easier, but this time, it was damn near impossible. "Listen, Bozinsky--Murray. There's been an accident out at Cyprus Head. Some kids were waterskiing and something went wrong. We don't know what."
Murray sat forward, suddenly grave. "Cody took a group to Cyprus Head in the Ebbtide this morning."
Quinlan nodded wearily. "Yeah. The speedboat blew up, Murray. We fished four kids out of the drink, all of 'em scared shitless. And all of 'em wearing life jackets."
Murray was white to the lips. He set his coffee aside. "And Cody? Where's Cody?"
"I'm sorry, Bozinsky." Quinlan found himself swallowing a lump in his throat. "We never found him. The kids say he wasn't wearing a life jacket. We been searching with the coasties since eleven, and there's no sign."
"No sign? What do you mean, no sign? He was there, you have to find him!"
"Find who?" The Riptide rocked as Nick ran down the steps from the wheelhouse. He stopped beside the coffeepot and poured himself a cup, then surveyed the salon. "Hey, Boz. Where's Cody? And what's Quinlan doing here?"
Quinlan stood up, turning to face the new arrival. But before he could speak, Murray blurted, "Nick! The Ebbtide blew up! Cody's missing!"
Nick took a long drink, then put his cup down. "Well, what're we waiting for then?" he inquired mildly. "You ready, Boz?"
"It's not that simple, Ryder," Quinlan said, almost angrily. He'd often wanted to bring the guy down a peg or two, but not this way. "We've been searching for four hours. If he was there to find, we'd have found him." He compressed his lips, staring from Ryder to Bozinsky, then spoke harshly. "The boat blew up. We have to face facts. Allen's dead."
Murray gave a wail, but Ryder simply shook his head. "No he's not. Murray, get one of those computer doohickeys that work in the Mimi, okay?"
With a sharp nod, Murray disappeared down the stairs.
"Ryder," Quinlan said helplessly. "I know you don't want to believe it, but you gotta understand, we searched every rock--"
"I don't believe it because it's not true," Nick said coolly. "Murray, come on! Quinlan, I'm taking the Mimi over there right now, an' I want your guarantee no asshole cops are gonna try and arrest me for flyin' low over a crime scene or some damn thing. I've had enough of the FAA for one day."
Quinlan raised his hands. "One more set of eyes can't hurt," he growled. "But how you think you can find him when eight cops and the whole coastguard force can't, I dunno."
Nick almost smiled. "He's my partner. I'll find him."
"That simple, huh?" Quinlan eyed Nick with something close to respect. "What if you can't?"
"Then I'll die trying. Murray!"
---
The roar of the Screaming Mimi soothed Nick's raw nerves as he scanned the horizon. They were approaching Cyprus Head and the bay where the Ebbtide had exploded. Next to him, Murray ran tides and currents and God knew what else on his portable computer: Nick had told him to bring it along because he knew having a machine to operate eased Murray's nerves, rather than because he thought they'd need it.
He didn't know a lot about the water near Cyprus Head, but he knew the terrain. The headland pointed the way to three rocky islands, chunks of California coast that had fallen by the wayside sometime over the years, and the water to the south of the chain always seemed full of wind surfers, water-skiers and pleasure-boats.
The islands themselves were mounds of rock and scrub, falling steeply away into the sea. Nick had landed on them often enough when based out of Fort Ord, but from the ocean, they had no approach at all that he could see.
Nick flew the south side of the point and the islands three times, seeing nothing except the coastguard cruiser plowing her cautious way shoreward, and the police boat lying at anchor in the lee of Cyprus Head. Close in to shore, he could see the debris that remained of the Ebbtide, but of Cody there was no sign.
"What are we going to do if we don't find him?" Murray said, his voice so low it barely carried through the headphones.
"We'll find him, Murray."
"It's just... Nick, all my calculations say that any--any, uh, debris--" Murray choked "--should be right in the cove by Cyprus Head." He pointed. "Where the... the wreck is. And if he's not there, then... I don't know what to think."
Nick was silent.
Finally Murray spoke again. "I'm scared, Nick. I'm scared he drowned, and we can't find him because he's on the bottom." His voice rose.
"Murray. Murray, no, okay? He didn't drown. He's not... what you said, all right? Quinlan's wrong. Something's screwy, you're right about that, but I'm telling you one thing. Cody's not dead, and we're gonna find him."
Murray gulped, getting himself back under control. "How can you be so sure?" he asked miserably.
Nick hesitated. How to explain that he felt Cody's heartbeat as sure as his own? That Cody lived inside him as surely as he lived in Cody, and if that link was broken he would be as good as dead himself?
"Nick?"
"I just know, Murray. Cody's alive, I know he is. It's going to be okay."
Murray blinked miserably. "What if you're wrong?"
Nick breathed deeply. Cody breathed with him, and Nick smiled. "I can't be."
Nick swooped around to include the rougher northern side of the islands in his search, ignoring Murray's protestations that there was no way--no possible way!--that anything could have drifted there from south of Cyprus Head. The sun was slowly setting, and Nick knew that wherever Cody was, he was getting scared. Nick just wished he had any idea of location.
"You know how you always wanna use Occam's razor, Murray?"
"Huh?" Murray looked up from his computer screen. "What do you mean?"
"Let's look at it this way. Five people are on a boat. The boat blows up, four people are where you expect them to be--the only place they can be--and the other one isn't. What does that mean?"
Murray gulped. "The fifth one drowned."
"Nope." Nick shook his head. "Doesn't wash. Even if he drowned, he didn't swim to San Francisco to do it, right? He'd be right there by Cyprus Head."
"I guess. But the currents on the bottom--he wasn't wearing a lifejacket--maybe the explosion--"
"That's not Occam's razor, Murray. That's making up stories. Maybe nothing. C'mon, forget Cody for a minute. Put that genius brain to work. What happened to the fifth guy?"
Murray spoke more slowly. "If this was a case... you know what, Nick, I'd say the fifth guy wasn't on the boat at all. I'd say it was some kind of setup."
"Right, Boz. That's how I had it figured, too. Come on."
"But Nick--it doesn't make any sense! If Cody wasn't on the Ebbtide, where is he?"
"That's what we're gonna find out."
The four teenagers who'd survived the wreck of the Ebbtide were still sitting in the coastguard base on the wharf at Cyprus Head. They all looked miserable and downcast. Quinlan was there, pacing, and when Nick and Murray walked in, he hurried to them.
"Any news?"
"Just a theory," Nick said cryptically. He gestured at the group of kids. "Have these guys been questioned at all?"
"No-one saw anything. They were too busy drowning themselves and each other."
"Or because there was nothing to see," Nick said, a wintry smile playing around his lips. "You mind if I ask them a couple of questions?"
Nick didn't wait for permission, but marched up to the nearest boy, a kid of about eighteen. He was blond, pale and soft-looking, as though he spent most of his time indoors.
"You, what's your name?" Nick stepped in close, getting in the kid's personal space.
"Uh, Jeremy." The kid leaned back in his chair as though trying to escape.
"Well, uh Jeremy, I wanna know who had the cute idea to steal that speedboat."
Jeremy turned scarlet, then his color drained away, leaving him pale as a ghost. "I--I d-don't know what y-you mean."
"Sure you do. Now start talking."
"Ryder! What have you got?"
"Nothing yet, Quinlan. But right after Jeremy here spills his guts, I'll go get Cody and you can get on with charging these little bastards."
After that, the story came out fast. There was a tiny bay on the second island that allowed a boat to land, and the two girls had begged Cody to take them in and show them the island. He'd done as they asked, and as soon as they'd gotten ashore, the boys had jumped him and knocked him out.
The teens had taken the Ebbtide for a day of joyriding pleasure, cut short when Jeremy had clipped a rock.
"We didn't mean any harm," Jeremy said miserably. "It was a pledge for our fraternity and--"
Nick didn't wait to hear any more. He left Quinlan to book the stupid kids and call their college, and he and Murray ran straight for the Mimi.
"Is there anywhere to land?" Murray said doubtfully, looking down at the vegetation in the gathering dusk.
"There used to be," Nick said grimly, heading for the westernmost point of the island. The vegetation there was low, grass and shrubs rather than trees, but he still doubted that there was a clearing big enough for Mimi. With a flick of an overhead switch, he activated Mimi's spotlight.
Slowly, he got as low as he dared, praying that Cody had recovered from the knock on the head and was able to rendezvous with them. Moments later, his prayers were answered. Cody came running out of the scrub, waving wildly, and Murray whooped.
"Get in the hold, Murray. Drop him the ladder."
Murray scrambled down--he was getting more nimble, Nick noticed approvingly--and moments later the rope ladder dropped. Cody jumped for it, immediately starting to climb, and Nick held the Mimi steady until he heard Murray's shout.
Then Cody was clambering into the cockpit, his eyes alight. "Those little bastards stole my boat!"
"It's worse than that, man," Nick said regretfully. "They blew it up."
"They--they what?"
"They blew it up!" Murray cried from below. "Isn't that boss?"
"Boss?" Cody said, turning to stare at Nick, then to look down at Murray. "Boss? They blew up my boat and you say that's boss?"
"We'll explain later." Nick grinned at him. "For now--Cody, it's good to have you back, buddy."
"Good? It's BODACIOUS!"
---
It was full dark by the time they finally got home. They'd had to stop off at the coastguard station for Cody to give Quinlan his statement. Fortunately, the kids had already been charged and released, otherwise Nick figured Cody would have strangled them.
"I guess the insurance will cover it," Cody said slowly as they boarded the Riptide. "Man, I saved six years to buy her."
"I know you did, man." Nick dropped a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "But look at it this way. At four o'clock this afternoon, everyone thought you were dead. Things could be worse."
Cody managed a crooked grin, and dropped to the bench seat. "You got a point."
"Not everyone thought you were dead," Murray said slowly, pausing at the top of the stairs. "Nick didn't believe it. If it wasn't for him..." Murray looked down. "I didn't think it through properly, not until Nick made me. If it wasn't for him, you'd still be stuck on that island."
"Aw, Murray, no!" Nick protested. "You'd have worked it out in the end."
"I would've, but it might have been days." Murray sighed heavily. "I gave up on you, Cody."
"No you didn't, Boz," Cody answered. "You and Nick pulled me off that island. If you'd given up on me, you wouldn't have been with him."
Murray hesitated, and Nick spoke into his silence. "I couldn't have found him without you, Boz," he said. "Don't you forget it."
Murray smiled and bobbed his head. "It was Occam's razor, wasn't it?" he said eagerly.
"It was?" Cody asked, and Nick chuckled.
"It sure was. Night, Boz."
"Night, guys."
Nick followed him downstairs and grabbed two beers from the fridge. He came back up and sat down next to Cody, handing him one.
Cody drained half the bottle, then sighed contentedly. "So, you wouldn't believe I was dead, huh?" he asked softly.
Nick took a more moderate sip of his own beer. "Of course I didn't." He didn't look at Cody, instead taking his thumbnail to the edge of the bottle's label.
"Why?" Cody asked, very low, and Nick picked more strenuously at the pasted paper. The connection between them wasn't something they'd ever talked about, but he'd seen it in Cody's eyes. He knew Cody felt the same thing he did.
Finally he raised his head. "I'd know," he said carefully. "I couldn't--you couldn't--" He reached out and laid a hand over Cody's. "I'd just know."
"Yeah," Cody replied. "I always thought that--about you, I mean. But I didn't know if I could believe it. People can't do that, can they?"
Nick took another drink of his beer. "Remember that time in Baton Rouge when those two guys jumped you? Cody, I was a block away but I still heard you call me. That's not possible, man. And the time I was flying that cargo of tractor parts in from Phoenix, and the instruments started going haywire on me? Something brought you up to Quartz Hill to meet me that day."
"I heard you calling me too," Cody said in a low voice. "Figured I was lonely and being stupid."
"Maybe you were. And maybe today I was just being stubborn." Nick looked up at last. "But I know what I feel, what I believe." He lifted Cody's hand to his chest, holding it over his heart. "I got a part of you right here, and you got a part of me, too."
"You really believe that?" Cody whispered, blue eyes fixed on Nick's.
Nick nodded.
Cody smiled and moved in closer to Nick. He didn't speak for a while, and when he did, his tone was light. "Do I get to pick which part of you I get?"
Nick pulled back slightly, looking at his partner. Cody's words were teasing, but he couldn't hide the relief in his eyes. As Nick moved back, Cody followed with a small, needy noise and Nick gathered him close, making his own tone light. But his words were anything but.
"Cody, baby. You got all of me, you know? All of me."
Rating: PG
Summary: When Cody is thought to be dead, nothing will make Nick believe it, for a very special reason...
Lieutenant Ted Quinlan marched down the pier, looking neither to the left or right. His usual swagger was absent, and he strode like a man on a mission, which indeed he was.
He paused for a moment at the gate to slip 7, satisfying himself that the red Corvette and the red and white Jimmy were parked in their places, then squared his shoulders and marched on down the companionway.
"Ahoy the Riptide!" he shouted, but the only answer came from a couple of gulls riding in the Barefoot Contessa's rigging. Quinlan shouted again, and then when no answer was forthcoming, went aboard.
He entered the salon to hear a loud bong from somewhere below, and moments later, skinny, geeky Murray Bozinsky scrambled up the steps. A white lab coat was bunched across his shoulders, and his glasses were askew.
"Lieutenant Quinlan! What can I do for you?" Murray pulled his glasses off and began polishing them absently on the tail of his coat.
Quinlan cleared his throat. "Ryder here?" he asked gruffly.
"Nick?" Murray looked around as though expecting to see his partner somewhere in the salon. Disguised as the coffeepot, maybe, Quinlan thought grimly.
"Yeah," he said. "Nick. Is he here?"
"I'm not--oh!" Murray grinned as though he'd just had a brainwave. "No, Nick's taken the FAA inspector up in the Mimi. Hey, I'm sorry lieutenant, I'm so absorbed in my project I've forgotten my manners. Would you like a cup of coffee?"
"I'm not here for coffee."
Murray drew back a pace and Quinlan cursed himself. He was making a hash of it, but then, he'd never intended to break the news he bore to fragile little Murray. But if Ryder was up in the sky, he didn't see he had a lot of choice.
"I'm sorry, kid," he said, more gently. "If you're having coffee, I'd like one."
Murray broke into a smile of pure happiness and poured for them both. "Of course I didn't think you were here for coffee. What is it, Lieutenant? Can we help you in some way? Nick's not in any trouble, is he?"
Quinlan sat where Murray pointed and watched sadly as Murray sat down on the bench opposite. "No, Bozinsky. Ryder's not in any trouble," he said heavily, and ran a hand over his face. He'd done this sort of thing a thousand times, and it never got any easier, but this time, it was damn near impossible. "Listen, Bozinsky--Murray. There's been an accident out at Cyprus Head. Some kids were waterskiing and something went wrong. We don't know what."
Murray sat forward, suddenly grave. "Cody took a group to Cyprus Head in the Ebbtide this morning."
Quinlan nodded wearily. "Yeah. The speedboat blew up, Murray. We fished four kids out of the drink, all of 'em scared shitless. And all of 'em wearing life jackets."
Murray was white to the lips. He set his coffee aside. "And Cody? Where's Cody?"
"I'm sorry, Bozinsky." Quinlan found himself swallowing a lump in his throat. "We never found him. The kids say he wasn't wearing a life jacket. We been searching with the coasties since eleven, and there's no sign."
"No sign? What do you mean, no sign? He was there, you have to find him!"
"Find who?" The Riptide rocked as Nick ran down the steps from the wheelhouse. He stopped beside the coffeepot and poured himself a cup, then surveyed the salon. "Hey, Boz. Where's Cody? And what's Quinlan doing here?"
Quinlan stood up, turning to face the new arrival. But before he could speak, Murray blurted, "Nick! The Ebbtide blew up! Cody's missing!"
Nick took a long drink, then put his cup down. "Well, what're we waiting for then?" he inquired mildly. "You ready, Boz?"
"It's not that simple, Ryder," Quinlan said, almost angrily. He'd often wanted to bring the guy down a peg or two, but not this way. "We've been searching for four hours. If he was there to find, we'd have found him." He compressed his lips, staring from Ryder to Bozinsky, then spoke harshly. "The boat blew up. We have to face facts. Allen's dead."
Murray gave a wail, but Ryder simply shook his head. "No he's not. Murray, get one of those computer doohickeys that work in the Mimi, okay?"
With a sharp nod, Murray disappeared down the stairs.
"Ryder," Quinlan said helplessly. "I know you don't want to believe it, but you gotta understand, we searched every rock--"
"I don't believe it because it's not true," Nick said coolly. "Murray, come on! Quinlan, I'm taking the Mimi over there right now, an' I want your guarantee no asshole cops are gonna try and arrest me for flyin' low over a crime scene or some damn thing. I've had enough of the FAA for one day."
Quinlan raised his hands. "One more set of eyes can't hurt," he growled. "But how you think you can find him when eight cops and the whole coastguard force can't, I dunno."
Nick almost smiled. "He's my partner. I'll find him."
"That simple, huh?" Quinlan eyed Nick with something close to respect. "What if you can't?"
"Then I'll die trying. Murray!"
---
The roar of the Screaming Mimi soothed Nick's raw nerves as he scanned the horizon. They were approaching Cyprus Head and the bay where the Ebbtide had exploded. Next to him, Murray ran tides and currents and God knew what else on his portable computer: Nick had told him to bring it along because he knew having a machine to operate eased Murray's nerves, rather than because he thought they'd need it.
He didn't know a lot about the water near Cyprus Head, but he knew the terrain. The headland pointed the way to three rocky islands, chunks of California coast that had fallen by the wayside sometime over the years, and the water to the south of the chain always seemed full of wind surfers, water-skiers and pleasure-boats.
The islands themselves were mounds of rock and scrub, falling steeply away into the sea. Nick had landed on them often enough when based out of Fort Ord, but from the ocean, they had no approach at all that he could see.
Nick flew the south side of the point and the islands three times, seeing nothing except the coastguard cruiser plowing her cautious way shoreward, and the police boat lying at anchor in the lee of Cyprus Head. Close in to shore, he could see the debris that remained of the Ebbtide, but of Cody there was no sign.
"What are we going to do if we don't find him?" Murray said, his voice so low it barely carried through the headphones.
"We'll find him, Murray."
"It's just... Nick, all my calculations say that any--any, uh, debris--" Murray choked "--should be right in the cove by Cyprus Head." He pointed. "Where the... the wreck is. And if he's not there, then... I don't know what to think."
Nick was silent.
Finally Murray spoke again. "I'm scared, Nick. I'm scared he drowned, and we can't find him because he's on the bottom." His voice rose.
"Murray. Murray, no, okay? He didn't drown. He's not... what you said, all right? Quinlan's wrong. Something's screwy, you're right about that, but I'm telling you one thing. Cody's not dead, and we're gonna find him."
Murray gulped, getting himself back under control. "How can you be so sure?" he asked miserably.
Nick hesitated. How to explain that he felt Cody's heartbeat as sure as his own? That Cody lived inside him as surely as he lived in Cody, and if that link was broken he would be as good as dead himself?
"Nick?"
"I just know, Murray. Cody's alive, I know he is. It's going to be okay."
Murray blinked miserably. "What if you're wrong?"
Nick breathed deeply. Cody breathed with him, and Nick smiled. "I can't be."
Nick swooped around to include the rougher northern side of the islands in his search, ignoring Murray's protestations that there was no way--no possible way!--that anything could have drifted there from south of Cyprus Head. The sun was slowly setting, and Nick knew that wherever Cody was, he was getting scared. Nick just wished he had any idea of location.
"You know how you always wanna use Occam's razor, Murray?"
"Huh?" Murray looked up from his computer screen. "What do you mean?"
"Let's look at it this way. Five people are on a boat. The boat blows up, four people are where you expect them to be--the only place they can be--and the other one isn't. What does that mean?"
Murray gulped. "The fifth one drowned."
"Nope." Nick shook his head. "Doesn't wash. Even if he drowned, he didn't swim to San Francisco to do it, right? He'd be right there by Cyprus Head."
"I guess. But the currents on the bottom--he wasn't wearing a lifejacket--maybe the explosion--"
"That's not Occam's razor, Murray. That's making up stories. Maybe nothing. C'mon, forget Cody for a minute. Put that genius brain to work. What happened to the fifth guy?"
Murray spoke more slowly. "If this was a case... you know what, Nick, I'd say the fifth guy wasn't on the boat at all. I'd say it was some kind of setup."
"Right, Boz. That's how I had it figured, too. Come on."
"But Nick--it doesn't make any sense! If Cody wasn't on the Ebbtide, where is he?"
"That's what we're gonna find out."
The four teenagers who'd survived the wreck of the Ebbtide were still sitting in the coastguard base on the wharf at Cyprus Head. They all looked miserable and downcast. Quinlan was there, pacing, and when Nick and Murray walked in, he hurried to them.
"Any news?"
"Just a theory," Nick said cryptically. He gestured at the group of kids. "Have these guys been questioned at all?"
"No-one saw anything. They were too busy drowning themselves and each other."
"Or because there was nothing to see," Nick said, a wintry smile playing around his lips. "You mind if I ask them a couple of questions?"
Nick didn't wait for permission, but marched up to the nearest boy, a kid of about eighteen. He was blond, pale and soft-looking, as though he spent most of his time indoors.
"You, what's your name?" Nick stepped in close, getting in the kid's personal space.
"Uh, Jeremy." The kid leaned back in his chair as though trying to escape.
"Well, uh Jeremy, I wanna know who had the cute idea to steal that speedboat."
Jeremy turned scarlet, then his color drained away, leaving him pale as a ghost. "I--I d-don't know what y-you mean."
"Sure you do. Now start talking."
"Ryder! What have you got?"
"Nothing yet, Quinlan. But right after Jeremy here spills his guts, I'll go get Cody and you can get on with charging these little bastards."
After that, the story came out fast. There was a tiny bay on the second island that allowed a boat to land, and the two girls had begged Cody to take them in and show them the island. He'd done as they asked, and as soon as they'd gotten ashore, the boys had jumped him and knocked him out.
The teens had taken the Ebbtide for a day of joyriding pleasure, cut short when Jeremy had clipped a rock.
"We didn't mean any harm," Jeremy said miserably. "It was a pledge for our fraternity and--"
Nick didn't wait to hear any more. He left Quinlan to book the stupid kids and call their college, and he and Murray ran straight for the Mimi.
"Is there anywhere to land?" Murray said doubtfully, looking down at the vegetation in the gathering dusk.
"There used to be," Nick said grimly, heading for the westernmost point of the island. The vegetation there was low, grass and shrubs rather than trees, but he still doubted that there was a clearing big enough for Mimi. With a flick of an overhead switch, he activated Mimi's spotlight.
Slowly, he got as low as he dared, praying that Cody had recovered from the knock on the head and was able to rendezvous with them. Moments later, his prayers were answered. Cody came running out of the scrub, waving wildly, and Murray whooped.
"Get in the hold, Murray. Drop him the ladder."
Murray scrambled down--he was getting more nimble, Nick noticed approvingly--and moments later the rope ladder dropped. Cody jumped for it, immediately starting to climb, and Nick held the Mimi steady until he heard Murray's shout.
Then Cody was clambering into the cockpit, his eyes alight. "Those little bastards stole my boat!"
"It's worse than that, man," Nick said regretfully. "They blew it up."
"They--they what?"
"They blew it up!" Murray cried from below. "Isn't that boss?"
"Boss?" Cody said, turning to stare at Nick, then to look down at Murray. "Boss? They blew up my boat and you say that's boss?"
"We'll explain later." Nick grinned at him. "For now--Cody, it's good to have you back, buddy."
"Good? It's BODACIOUS!"
---
It was full dark by the time they finally got home. They'd had to stop off at the coastguard station for Cody to give Quinlan his statement. Fortunately, the kids had already been charged and released, otherwise Nick figured Cody would have strangled them.
"I guess the insurance will cover it," Cody said slowly as they boarded the Riptide. "Man, I saved six years to buy her."
"I know you did, man." Nick dropped a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "But look at it this way. At four o'clock this afternoon, everyone thought you were dead. Things could be worse."
Cody managed a crooked grin, and dropped to the bench seat. "You got a point."
"Not everyone thought you were dead," Murray said slowly, pausing at the top of the stairs. "Nick didn't believe it. If it wasn't for him..." Murray looked down. "I didn't think it through properly, not until Nick made me. If it wasn't for him, you'd still be stuck on that island."
"Aw, Murray, no!" Nick protested. "You'd have worked it out in the end."
"I would've, but it might have been days." Murray sighed heavily. "I gave up on you, Cody."
"No you didn't, Boz," Cody answered. "You and Nick pulled me off that island. If you'd given up on me, you wouldn't have been with him."
Murray hesitated, and Nick spoke into his silence. "I couldn't have found him without you, Boz," he said. "Don't you forget it."
Murray smiled and bobbed his head. "It was Occam's razor, wasn't it?" he said eagerly.
"It was?" Cody asked, and Nick chuckled.
"It sure was. Night, Boz."
"Night, guys."
Nick followed him downstairs and grabbed two beers from the fridge. He came back up and sat down next to Cody, handing him one.
Cody drained half the bottle, then sighed contentedly. "So, you wouldn't believe I was dead, huh?" he asked softly.
Nick took a more moderate sip of his own beer. "Of course I didn't." He didn't look at Cody, instead taking his thumbnail to the edge of the bottle's label.
"Why?" Cody asked, very low, and Nick picked more strenuously at the pasted paper. The connection between them wasn't something they'd ever talked about, but he'd seen it in Cody's eyes. He knew Cody felt the same thing he did.
Finally he raised his head. "I'd know," he said carefully. "I couldn't--you couldn't--" He reached out and laid a hand over Cody's. "I'd just know."
"Yeah," Cody replied. "I always thought that--about you, I mean. But I didn't know if I could believe it. People can't do that, can they?"
Nick took another drink of his beer. "Remember that time in Baton Rouge when those two guys jumped you? Cody, I was a block away but I still heard you call me. That's not possible, man. And the time I was flying that cargo of tractor parts in from Phoenix, and the instruments started going haywire on me? Something brought you up to Quartz Hill to meet me that day."
"I heard you calling me too," Cody said in a low voice. "Figured I was lonely and being stupid."
"Maybe you were. And maybe today I was just being stubborn." Nick looked up at last. "But I know what I feel, what I believe." He lifted Cody's hand to his chest, holding it over his heart. "I got a part of you right here, and you got a part of me, too."
"You really believe that?" Cody whispered, blue eyes fixed on Nick's.
Nick nodded.
Cody smiled and moved in closer to Nick. He didn't speak for a while, and when he did, his tone was light. "Do I get to pick which part of you I get?"
Nick pulled back slightly, looking at his partner. Cody's words were teasing, but he couldn't hide the relief in his eyes. As Nick moved back, Cody followed with a small, needy noise and Nick gathered him close, making his own tone light. But his words were anything but.
"Cody, baby. You got all of me, you know? All of me."