Hideaway

  Dale looked around the cove. Aside from the occasional pelican, he was completely alone. This would be the perfect place to hideout and let everything blow over.

He started laying his wet clothes around the bow of the boat to dry. He wouldn’t be able to get the salt cleaned out of them, he needed to keep all of his fresh water available for drinking at the moment, but at least he could have dry clothes.  

He hadn’t anticipated his clothes would weigh him down that much while he was swimming towards his escape. He had almost panicked a couple of times. For one horrendous moment, he even thought he had let go of the bag of jewels, before realizing his fingers had gone numb, but his plunder was still in his grasp.

Shaking his head, Dale pushed the panicked memories away. It was done, he had made the drop off, he had his payment. Waiting it out in this cove until his trail grew cold was his best option. In a few weeks the authorities moved on to a bigger, more heinous crime anyway. Something worse always came along. Then he would be home free.

It’s not like he hurt anyone. Granted, that security guard would be recovering from the gunshot to the shoulder for quite awhile, but seriously! Why’d the guy decide to try to be a hero in the first place? He was a rent-a-cop, probably didn’t even have formal training of any kind. It was just some jewels — some very valuable jewels — but they were just objects. Dale wasn’t threatening anyone’s life.  The security guard should have just backed off and Dale wouldn’t have had to shoot him.  

Dale climbed down the hatch and stretched out in his berth, satisfied with this plan. He’d lie here in this cove for a week or two, then sail down to Brazil. He heard it was nice down there this time of year.

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2 thoughts on “Hideaway

  1. You wanna hear about a crazy coincidence? My coworker’s stepson, named Dale, robbed his employer last year and has been on the lam ever since. I wonder if he made it to Brazil or just hung around Texas.

    Liked by 1 person

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