Counterfeit

“Counterfeit”

Some people would say Alex was in a rut but he preferred to think of it as his morning Zen. A double latte with skim milk along with one warm cinnamon roll, enjoyed outside on the pier at the table in front of the slip where he moored his boat. The pier was quiet at that time of day; a few charter fishing boats heading out to beat the midday rush of tourists and a handful of people opening the small shops and cafes that sat shoulder to shoulder along each side of the landside entrance. After nearly four years in business as a charter captain and the owner of the best bait and tackle shop around, the pier still had the idyllic, tropical flavor that the locals took for granted but that he’d learned to love. When you grew up in chilly Wisconsin like he had, the warm Florida sun and gulf breezes never got tiresome.

He opened his laptop and began his usual slow, one-handed entrance into his workday; scrolling through his files with his right hand and sipping latte with the left. His days working in an office cubicle were long behind him, Thirty-eight years old and he was living the dream. Naples was about the same size city as the one he grew up in but even though it lacked some of the things that Miami and other big cities had it was perfect for him. His needs were simple. And its proximity to Marco Island and Ten Thousand Lakes made it a perfect launching point for Fishbone Charters. The business had gotten off to a slow start but he’d grown it enough in three years to buy the bait and tackle shop.

It was when he tilted his head back to take the final sip of his latte when Alex saw him leaning on the wooden railing. Or thought he saw him. About fifty feet away a tall, slender man in jeans, a yellow tee shirt and a baseball cap was looking back at him with a faint smile. He had a beard and his long hair stuck out in every direction from under his cap. Alex put down his cup and stared at the man. He knew it had to be a coincidence, a stranger who just happened to look like Jack. What else could it be? Jack had died over a year ago when he was knocked overboard in a sudden squall. Three days of searching led to nothing; no body and no explanation.

Alex lowered his sunglasses and continued staring. The man’s smile broadened. He stood up from the railing and began walking slowly, almost nervously toward Alex. The closer he got the more confused Alex became. When the man reached the table he cleared his throat and said, “I was pretty sure you’d be here. Old habits die hard.”

Alex sat speechless as he looked up at the man.

“Mind if I sit down?”

After a moment Alex nodded and said, “Yeah, sure.”

There was a long stretch of silence as each man waited for the other to speak. Finally, Alex managed to blurt out, “What the hell, man.”

“Yeah, I know this is really weird. I’ve been looking forward to this day and dreading it at the same time.”

Alex studied his friend’s bearded face and rumpled appearance. “What happened to you? Where the hell have you been for the past year? He crushed his empty coffee cup in his hand, his anger visible.

“It’s a long story. First I want to say how sorry I am. I was in a jam and couldn’t find my way out so I just sort of disappeared.”

Alex didn’t even try to hide his feelings. “A jam, you were in a jam. What the hell kind of jam makes you pretend to be dead?”

Jack’s smile was gone. “Look, I know you’re pissed at me right now but just give me a few minutes and I’ll explain.”

“You disappeared, put me through hell, hurt the business and you can explain it all in a few minutes. This should be good.”

“Look, I know my being gone has probably been hard for you.”

“Hard? Do you want to know what hard is? Hard is standing in front of a church giving a eulogy for a friend who everyone thought was gone too soon. Hard is trying to keep a business alive after one of the partners is dead. I even had to deal with some guy from the government calling me about you and asking how and where you died. Does that all sound like it was hard?”

“Wait, what about the guy from the government, who was he? What did he want to know?”

Alex was surprised that, out of the entire conversation, Jack had chosen that particular comment to ask about. “It was some guy from the Treasury Department. His name was Hackett, Paul Hackett, and he wouldn’t say much except that he wanted to know about your activities. Not just your part of Fishbone, but also the stuff you did at your graphics job. It was all kind of mysterious.”

“So what did you tell him?”

Alex sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Look, man, we have a hell of a lot to talk about and I’m just not in the right mood to do it now. I gotta absorb all of this.” He gathered up his cup and paper plate from the table and stood up. “I have a charter to Cape Romano this afternoon. How about meeting me on the boat around five?”

“Jack stood up and looked around. “Let’s make it eight or so, after it’s dark out?”

It was a strange request but Alex shook his head and muttered, “Yeah, okay.”

Jack hesitated and then extended his hand to Alex. Alex just looked at him and said, “See you around eight.”

For the entire day it was almost impossible for Alex to think about anything but the sudden reappearance of Jack. It was like he’d had a conversation with a ghost. For the past year he’d forced himself to accept that Jack was gone and that Fishbone had slowly become a one man operation. Now he wondered if he’d be continuing on his solo path or bringing Jack back into his business and his life. Despite Jack’s financial investment Fishbone had always been a one man show with Alex as the partner who actually showed up and worked every day. They’d hired Melanie, an attractive, hardworking young woman to run the bait and tackle shop but Alex still had to spend time overseeing everything.

The afternoon charter ran longer than planned but Alex still had time to get home to shower and grab dinner. As he drove back to the pier he’d wished he had a way to reach Jack so he could cancel their meeting. There was just too much emotion in the air. He’d sat in a chair on the starboard casting deck of Fishbone for half an hour when Jack finally showed up. He was wearing the same clothes he’d been wearing that morning. There was a faraway look in his eyes.

Jack stood on the pier for a moment looking back over his shoulder and then left and right before he swung a leg over the gunwale and stepped aboard. He was carrying a small cooler and set it on the deck. “I brought beer in case you didn’t have any on board.”

Alex feigned gratitude. “Thanks,” was all he said.

Jack looked around at the boat. “Looks like you’ve been putting some hard miles on Fishbone.”

“Yeah, it’s gotten kind of rough. Without your monthly contributions I’ve had to put off some maintenance. It’s not easy going it alone.” He’d wondered if Jack got the message.

Jack knelt down, opened the cooler and opened a can. He slid the cooler closer to Alex as if the beer was some kind of peace offering. The tension in the air was as thick as the humidity. Jack sat down in a chair opposite Alex and, again, looked back over his shoulder. Finally, Alex asked, “Okay, let’s hear it. Where’d you disappear to and, more importantly, why?”

Jack took a long, deep breath. “Man, I’ve thought about this moment for a year and had every word worked out but now…”

“How about starting with the why before we get to the how?”

“Fair enough. It all started almost two years ago. I had a project at the office and the graphics had to be way beyond a Photoshop kind of thing, something so detailed that I had to create my own software upgrade. It turned out to be pretty cool and I decided to have it copyrighted.”

“Well, good for you but you still haven’t told me the why.”

“Alright, I’m getting to that. So after using it on a few projects I got an email from a guy. His name was Sam Rubio. I never found out how he heard about me. He said he wanted to talk to me about a project he had in mind and wanted me do it as a moonlight job. He said I shouldn’t talk about it to anyone. And then he said, “This could be extremely lucrative for both of us.” So of course that got my attention.”

Alex reached down and took a beer from the cooler. “Keep going.”

“So, I met with Rubio and when he told me what he wanted me to do I almost pissed my pants.” He paused, looked around and then looked right into Alex’s eyes. “The guy wanted me to make counterfeit money for him.”

Alex blew out a long breath. “You’ve got to be kidding. I hope you turned him down.”

“I wish to hell I had but he made it all sound so easy and profitable and said he’d be taking all the risks. I confess that I bought his whole spiel and agreed to do it.”

“So, just like that, you became Jack the counterfeiter.”

“Hey, lower the volume, you know how voices carry over water. Anyway, through the whole thing I looked at Rubio as the counterfeiter and I was just the artist. He sourced the special paper and supplies. I scanned the real bills and my software did the rest. It was all pretty cool.

Alex couldn’t believe what his friend was saying. “So whatever made you think you could be in this line of work?”

“Oh hell, I was doing fake IDs way back in high school. It was how I got my spending money in college.”

“There’s a hell of a difference between helping guys buy beer and making fake money.”

“I know. I never even thought of this until Rubio found me. He was the guy in charge. He was the one who told me most counterfeit bills were twenties and larger so a guy could make a lot of money fast. He wanted to just do fives and tens because the stores and banks didn’t check them as carefully. He said they just took them from the customer and put them in their cash drawer. He said the risk would be minimal and he’d have all the exposure. It would take longer to make money but the safety would be worth it”

Alex leaned back, looked at the stars and said, “Unbelievable.” He took a moment to drain his beer then looked at Jack. “So what’d you do with all of the money you made?”

“Do you mean the money I made or the money I earned?” It was a snarky response even though he hadn’t meant it to be.

“I mean your part of the take, your profits.”

“Well, I banked some of it. Rubio made direct monthly deposits to my account. That was how I could help you pay for the new downriggers.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “You mean those were bought with illegal money? What the hell were you thinking? Now I’m somehow part of all this.”

“Look, it seemed okay at the time. I only did it for about six months and then I told Rubio I needed a break. He wasn’t happy but he gave in. And we never got caught.”

Alex sat there looking down at the deck and shaking his head. “So it’s over then, you’re done with it all?”

“Yep, I’m done. Back to the real world.”

“You still haven’t told me about where you’ve been and why you disappeared like that.”

It took Jack a long time to reply. He fished around for another beer and took a few sips. Finally he said, “This is the hard part.” Another long pause. “That day on the boat, the day I went over the side. It was all planned. I had a mask and air tank hanging over the side from a cleat. When the weather got crappy and we started bouncing around you were at the wheel and the two fishermen went down below. I was glad they were so nervous because they didn’t even look my way. I grabbed the mask and tank and slipped over the side. There are so many little islands around here that it was easy to reach one underwater.”

“That takes care of the how but I’m still waiting for the why.”

“Okay, here it is. Remember I told you we never got caught? Well I guess Mr. Rubio was being watched by some guy so he told me to keep out of sight. I made myself some new ID and I’m going by my middle name now. I haven’t heard anything from Rubio so I don’t know how it turned out with that guy.”

Was it the Treasury guy who called me asking about you?

“Yeah, I think it probably was the same guy. What did you tell him?”

Alex shook his head. “Do you have any idea what it’s like being on the other end of questions like, “How much do you know about your friend’s financial situation?” and “Would your friend have any reason to hide from the law?” I had no freaking clue what to say to him.”

“Look man, I’m sorry I put you through all that stuff. I never thought things would go that way.”

Alex sat in silence. He was overwhelmed with what Jack had shared with him and he wasn’t in the mood to hear any more. He used his foot to push the cooler back to Jack. “That’s all, man. I have some thinking to do.”

Jack understood. He’d been surprised that Alex didn’t come totally unhinged. Before he picked up the cooler he took his phone from his pocket. “Do you still have the same number?”

Alex nodded, “Yeah, same one.”

Jack punched in the number and hit Send. “There, now you have mine. Call me if you want to. I’ve been staying at the Best Western Naples Plaza. I’ve been doing some freelance work for a company in Miami so I’ll be heading back there tomorrow.”

“Why Miami?”

“It’s bigger, more places to hide.”

Once again they’d parted without a handshake or any kind of friendly words for each other. Alex wasn’t sure if they were current or former friends and that bothered him as much as the things Jack had done. The busy season for both the shop and the charters was starting to wind down. There was more time for maintenance and more time to think about Jack’s predicament, and whether it was also his predicament. He wondered how a nice down to earth guy with all of that talent could dig himself such a deep hole.

A month later the demand for fishing charters was low enough that Alex could consider taking some time away from the boat to travel somewhere. He hadn’t been home for a family visit in over a year. A friend in Colorado had invited him up to the mountains for some late season skiing. He’d even wondered if he should ask Melanie out and spend some time getting to know her on a more personal level. Lots of options but his concerns for Jack stood in the way of making decisions about anything. He knew he had to say or do something

After a three week break without a charter reservation Alex was glad when he got a call for a two-man excursion to the Cape Romano area. It would be a leisurely afternoon of island hopping while things around the pier would be relatively quiet. It gave him an idea.

Alex was standing on the foredeck when he saw Jack, beer cooler in hand, walking toward the slip. He thought how it felt like old times and hoped it would turn out to be at least something close. Jack stepped over the gunwale, waved up to Alex and called, “Permission to come aboard?”

Alex smiled. “Same old smartass, I see.”

They each went about the duties of getting the boat ready to go and joking with each other. It almost felt like the past year had never happened. Jack was stowing things down below when Alex saw a car pull up to the gangway. “That must be them,” he called down. Jack came up on deck while Alex went to the wheel and started the motor. Two men got out of the car, gathered their fishing gear from the trunk and went on board. Jack showed them where to hook up their poles and stash their belongings while he unhooked the mooring lines. He signaled to Alex and the boat slowly pulled away from the pier and into open water.

Jack stood waiting for the men to finish and then stepped forward with his hand extended. “Welcome aboard, I’m Jack Maines and that’s Alex Walker up there at the wheel.”

A tall man with thinning hair shook Jack’s hand. He nodded toward his friend. “That’s Bill Kovacks and I’m Paul, Paul Hackett.”