Carl Hiaasen – Naked Came The Manatee

“Unless they want to pass it off as Castro,” she said. “Every time there are rumors of Castro’s demise, Little Havana erupts. Juan Carlos Reyes has offered a million-dollar reward for proof that Castro is dead.”

Reyes, a politically connected Miami millionaire, was determined to become the next president of Cuba.

“W7hat exactly happened when they took Fay?” Britt was taking notes.

“She went skinny-dipping with a manatee.”

Deal interrupted. “Do you think it could be the same manatee… ?”

“What?”

They told Britt the story of Deal’s near-death experience and his amazing rescue from a watery grave. “Not too many manatees left these days,” she said, “especially ones that would rescue a human.”

“Doesn’t the Navy use them?” Deal said.

“No, that’s dolphins. They’re smarter,” Britt answered, noticing that his pupils appeared dilated.

“The old lady that pulled me out said she chats with him.”

“That manatee is our only witness,” Jake said. “Maybe we ought to go get the dive boat and find him.”

Britt rolled her eyes. “What do you plan to do, let him sniff her bathing suit?”

Jake shrugged. “It works with police dogs.”

Marion McAlister Williams was rocking in the dark on her front porch when they arrived, almost as though she had been expecting them. “He’s out there,” she said, nodding, “and something’s wrong.”

They went to the grotto. Booger was there, circling, in a state of agitation.

Booger experienced an unreasoning feeling of dread. He sensed trouble, cries for help, mortal danger. He swam as fast as he could, powerful flips of his tail propelling him southward. Dawn streaked the sky as the trio in the dive boat trailed him around a mangrove outcropping to a wooden boat dock with a million-dollar yacht appended to it.

Britt felt an odd sense of deja vu. Like a Lassie movie, she thought, with Timmy trapped down the well.

“I know who lives here,” she said, squinting at the house. “I think it’s some city official.”

Jake idled down the Evinrude. As they let the boat coast, they heard a splash as something hit the water.

“Hurry!” Britt cried out.

Booger dove nose-down to where a burlap bag was sinking to the silty bottom.

Burrowing beneath the sack, the gentle giant rose, bursting through the surface of the shining water, showering those aboard with spray.

“Oh, shit,” Lassiter said.

If Booger had found Fay, or what was left of her, it wasn’t much.

Deal reached out, caught it, then gingerly dropped the sopping sack onto the floor of the dive boat.

They gasped collectively when it moved.

Something inside was alive.

“Could be a snake,” Jake warned.

Cautiously, he loosened the thick twist tie that sealed the sack. Small, high-pitched sounds emerged.

Then he upended the bag and dumped the contents onto the deck.

Six drenched calico kittens crawled in all directions, mewing loudly for their mother.

“That’s who lives here!” Britt said. “The Miami Beach city manager! I should have known.” The man had been seething ever since his scheme to pay bounty hunters thirty-five dollars a head to exterminate the city’s stray cat population had gone awry. “Damn,” said Lassiter.

Booger dove and surfaced, dove and surfaced again, then struck out for open water, as though somehow aware that he had saved the furry little creatures now using the back seat of Britt Montero’s new T-Bird for a litter box.

After a pit stop for Kitten Chow at an all-night convenience store, it was nearly eight a.m. Britt would only have time for a shower and a cup of coffee. She was not tired, she had never been more awake. This could be the big one, the event Miami had awaited for more than three decades. The phone rang just as she was leaving.

Hoping it was Jake with word on Fay, she felt her heart sink when she heard the deep-throated growl that had launched a thousand fan clubs. Damn, she had forgotten screen star Dash Brandon.

“You’re up early,” she said, trying grimly to shake off a kitten fastened by its needle-sharp claws to the right leg of her linen slacks.

“Tell you the truth, dollface, I haven’t slept yet. Been partying in South Beach since I left you. You been to one a these foam parties? A trip. I met up with some of the crew, and we need your help.”

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