Free What Washes Up by Dawn Lee McKenna

down in one of the vinyl chairs in front of Wyatt’s desk.
    “Thank you for bringing that stuff by for the boy,” Tomlinson said.
    “How is he?” she asked.
    “Sleeping, mostly. They were out there for at least three days. The kid’s not real sure of the timeline.”
    Tomlinson sat down in the other vinyl chair and pulled out his tablet, tapped at it as he spoke. “His name is Virgilio Munoz. His father was Emilio, his mother Fernandina. His little sister, age four, was Lupe.” He took a sip of his coffee and tapped at the screen again. “They’re from a village about two hours inland from Amatique Bay, called El Paraiso. I’ve been to that area, and I’m here to tell you there’s nothing about it that’ll remind you of paradise.”
    He drained his coffee and set the empty cup on the desk.
    “He’s not absolutely positive how many people were traveling. Coast Guard hasn’t recovered any more bodies, though. He really only paid attention to his own family and the other kids on board. There were two, besides him and his sister.”
    “Did he tell you what the hell happened?” Wyatt asked.
    “Yeah, pretty much. From his limited perspective,” Tomlinson said. “From what I can put together, there was an argument between Virgilio’s dad, a couple of other passengers and the guys that were running the boat. Americans, by the way. They were supposed to get the passengers closer to shore, but they decided to put them out sooner.”
    “Does Virgilio know why?” Maggie asked.
    “No. Could have been the weather, could have been a fuel issue, maybe they saw another vessel that made them nervous. Who knows?” Tomlinson said. “To make matters worse, there were originally two dinghies, but they had a problem with the outboard on the other one, and piled everybody into one. That dinghy wasn’t meant to hold more than five people. According to the Coast Guard, the four-stroke they had mounted on it was way too heavy, too, and too light in horsepower.”
    “Do you have any idea yet who these Americans were that were running them here?” Wyatt asked.
    “Not yet. The boy says the word ‘wave’ was in the boat name, which is probably going to give us a ton of hits. He has no idea what kind of boat it was. His people were farmers. But, the boat was out of Texas, he could read that,” Tomlinson answered.
    “Lot of boats in Texas,” Wyatt said, sighing.
    “No kidding,” Tomlinson said. “So, according to what the kid told me, they got into some pretty big swells out there. The storm had already broken when they were put in the dinghy. They were already taking on water because of the weight, but he thinks they got a hole in the stern, because it pretty much went under, and the outboard conked. I’m waiting to hear from the Guard on that. Anyway, everybody ended up in the water.”
    “Where were they going?” Wyatt asked.
    “Here,” Tomlinson said. “They were coming here.”
    “What for?” Maggie asked. “I mean, what were they going to do when they got here?”
    “They had work lined up. Picking vegetables on a farm not far from here. According to Virgilio, they were going to work for some rich man with a big farm.”
    Maggie’s stomach felt like someone had just reached into it. She put her elbow on the arm of the chair and put her face in her hand.
    “What?” Wyatt asked.
    Maggie looked up at him. “Boudreaux.”
    “Boudreaux what?” Wyatt asked.
    Tomlinson looked from Maggie to Wyatt and back again.
    “He was at the beach last night. On the deck of one his vacation rentals.”
    “Who’s Boudreaux?”
    “Local rich guy. Dabbles in a lot of things,” Wyatt said. “Also figures in two other cases I have on my hands.”
    “Two?” Tomlinson asked.
    “Well, we don’t have a wide selection of criminals in Apalach,” Wyatt said. “We try to make the most of what we’ve got.”
    “So what about him?” Tomlinson asked Maggie.
    “He has a couple of farms. A melon farm over near Live