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school by the boat enabling them to catch more. Dan and Jeff looked at Pete in surprise as he wrapped the leader around his hand and lifted the fish out of the water. It flapped across the deck, scattering blood everywhere, before he finally got it into the box. 
    “Hey,” Jeff said. “What about the rest.”
    “Later. We need to talk.” Pete said as they gathered in the shade provided by the T-top over the center console.
    "What the fuck do you think you were doing with that little party last night? Now your wives know. What's next, take it home and have a block party?"
    Their heads hung low. "Take it easy. We only told them we found one brick. They don't know anything more than that.”
    Pete decided to allow them their secret of the missing bricks. "Ok, well, I got sick of your little orgy, so I went out. Met this guy that can help us."
    "So, you just met some guy, told him everything, and you’re pissed at us? Did he come with a resume?”
     "It's not like that." Pete explained the Key West trip. 
    Dan slapped Pete on the back and Jeff fist bumped him. "Way to go son. Didn't think you had it in you."
    Pete blushed. "Anyway, I saw this guy go out and score some stuff.” He turned on them. “Look, we’ve got to get rid of this stuff, do it ourselves or trust someone. After what you guys did last night, if this stuff finds its way to Tampa, we'll be on the front page of the paper - either in handcuffs or dead in a gutter.”
    "So, what do you have in mind?"
    "When I described the packages and told him about the initials, he thought he might know the guy. Said maybe we could get a finder’s fee for returning it.” He paused, “Look, it's found money. You saw that guy in the boat point his finger like a gun at us yesterday. These guys won’t think twice about killing us to get their stuff back." He waited to see their reaction before continuing. “How do you think your going to sell it off without getting caught. Just because it’s worth a crap load of money at street value doesn’t mean we can sell it.”
    "A score like that and we just get a finders fee?" Jeff asked.
    "And we cut him in for brokering it."
    "And split it. I don't know about that. This could pay off my plastic and house if I play it right. Hell, I could retire on this,” Jeff said.
    "You guys really think we’re capable of selling this stuff without getting in trouble? We don't even know where to start."
    "I know a guy,” Dan said.
    "Of course you know a guy. And he knows a guy, and pretty soon all the other guys know about this and we're on the front page and can't even read it because we're wearing cement boots having crabs bite our balls.” 
    They stood there, each making his own calculations.
    You’ve got a point." Jeff wavered. “I guess I’m good if we take this to him, see what he has in mind for a reward." 
    "I don’t know guys. I could really use a big score,” Dan whined. “You guys know what the real estate market has done to me.” 
    "And you’re just gonna walk into town and pay everything off? Don't you think the IRS is going to have some questions?"
    He put his head down in defeat. “Alright. I'll go along. Looks like I'm outvoted anyway."
     
    ***
     
    The fly kissed the water, leader following in a loop, and Mac started to strip the line back in. Two quick pulls, one slow pull, rinse and repeat, until he'd recovered the line. He balanced on his paddle board, paddle resting on the board between his legs, as he restarted the casting motion. 
    The snook hit the fly as soon as it hit the water, jumped and made a run for the safety of the mangroves. Mac used the bend of the rod to muscle him out into the open, then quickly reeled the slack line in and started pumping the fish toward his board. Minutes later, on his knees, he reached into the water and released the fish. He watched it swim away and thought again how lucky he was to live here. Every month brought something different for him. A retired commercial