Lost & Found

The sea claims a careless soul

For Howard Farley the news that Charlie Jones had been seen in Cuba was disturbing. Charlie was one thread from a string that led to the past. From the moment he heard the name, Howard had obsessed about the five miscreants that composed the fragile link to a time and place he’d tried to forget. They had destroyed his life seven years earlier but he had rebuilt. Some of the people involved were faces while others had names as well. He would set a match to Charlie and light the way.

Howard’s match is a sociopath named Eric. The toll that Eric had paid from the encounter was even greater than this employer, Howard. Eric’s right arm had been severed from his shoulder by the spinning propeller of a burning DC-6 transport plane, a fire fueled by tons of cocaine and fuel.    

For both Howard and Eric, one of the group, Wallace Clayton, loomed large. Once a minion in Howard's cocaine pipeline, he had played a leading role in altering their lives that night in El Salvador.

Charlie Jones had been the pilot of the ill-fated flight. He was the only other face with a name. What was he doing in Cuba, once again occupying space, sucking air in Howard’s world?  

A striking young woman with an appealing Texas twang, accompanied by a non-descript indigenous Central American male, and a large, old, foul-mouthed refugee from a care facility, posing as a pilot, rounded out the cabal that had almost led to Howard’s demise. Those three had materialized on his executive jet and then absconded with Charlie and Wallace, leaving Howard amidst the shards of his life, watching his jet disappear into the night.    

He hated them all, they knew too much. They all must die!