Night Moves (Doc Ford) - By RandyWayne White Page 0,15
of being offended, Tomlinson became thoughtful. “I’ve been seeing a married lady, sure. From New Jersey. Her husband graduated from an engineering school. She’s a quality person; not the screw-around type normally, just lonely, plus some personal issues. And ten years older than the guy she married. That information doesn’t leave here, by the way. Understand?”
Tomlinson has some maddening flaws, but compromising a lover’s secrets isn’t among them.
Dan’s eyes swung to me. I told him, “A mechanical engineer wouldn’t have trouble figuring out how to sabotage a plane even if he wasn’t a pilot. Depends on how hard he took the news that his wife was screwing around.”
Tomlinson said, “No, she says he doesn’t suspect. His family has money—they’re big-time developers—and he’s made a pile more by investing in Florida real estate. So she spends a week down here every month on business—it’s just part of her normal routine. And he’s not the physical type. There are a couple more married women on the islands I have a history with—but we’re still good friends. Same with their husbands.”
“How’d you manage that?” Dan asked. He was sorting through a box of cadmium nuts and bolts, already back at work but paying attention.
“Shameless lies of omission,” Tomlinson replied, “and good eye contact. Not that I’m proud of it, but life happens. If everyone knew the truth about their spouses, the world would either be crazy serene or there would be crazy fighting in the streets. Honesty is risky business when it comes to love.” Tomlinson glanced at me before adding, “That’s why Doc has all sorts of rules when it comes to women and honesty . . . especially married women. So no worries about a homicidal husband in his closet.”
Dan missed the double meaning and the insinuation. The insinuation was that I don’t take anyone into my confidence.
The pilot shook his head. “No husbands for me, but some crazy fisherman, that’s a different story. I’ve guided tarpon for thirty years and there are more pissed-off boat captains every season—especially in Boca Grande Pass. Doc knows what I’m talking about. When your study on tarpon snagging comes out—in two weeks, right?—there’ll be a lot of people pissed off at you, too. But at least Tallahassee will finally understand the bullshit they’ve let go on too long.”
I nodded, even though the study was already being circulated on the Internet—there’d been a leak when the document was sent out for peer review comments. That wasn’t unusual, although I didn’t like the fact that an uncorrected copy was out there. I take my work seriously, had invested a lot of effort in getting the project right. The data had been collected over six weeks in that unusual deepwater pass during tarpon season; thirty-two consecutive days working with research assistants on a hook placement census—where a tarpon is hooked says a lot about how it was hooked. Our findings were at odds with a badly flawed study done by the Florida Fish and Wildlife Commission, so it would be controversial despite the convincing data we had collected. Tomlinson already knew something about the project, so I gave him a look that said I’ll explain later because Dan wasn’t done.
“Some of these tournaments I fish, the prize money is big. When the purse gets to be five hundred grand, there’re guys out there who’d cut their mamma’s throat to win. Outsiders especially. The so-called jig fishermen and us Boca Grande tarpon guides have been in a sort of war since the eighties—that’s what’s going round and round in my head all of a sudden. What do you think, Doc?”
I nodded because animosity between the two groups had spiked the previous season. I said, “You’re a high-profile guy. You’re president of the Boca Guides Association, and I see you quoted all the time in fishing magazines.”
“This jig-fishing thing,” he said to Tomlinson, “it’s actually snag-fishing, which we’ve known all along, but Doc’s study actually proves that—”
“The data we collected is strongly suggestive,” I interrupted.
“Same thing,” Dan said, then continued. “See, what’s at stake is some big-money people started a tournament series, an organization calls itself Silver King Pro Circuit. We hate what they do and they’re on my ass all the time for trying to make lawmakers understand. Because they know Doc’s hook placement study might convince Tallahassee, they’ll be all over his ass, too. You just wait. When there’s big money involved, some people don’t give a damn about the truth.”