Bonefish Blues by Steven Becker Page B

against the truck, using it to shade the screen. He watched as Matt deleted the video. “Okay, now text her and let her know.”
    Matt typed in the message and hit send. “Two million hits. Damn.” 
    “As long as he releases her, it’s all good. Someone with some influence may have seen it, and will stop them from developing the island.” Suddenly he remembered the text from Sheryl and got in the truck. “Come on. I have to meet someone. Maybe we can pick up your mom on the way.”
    Matt didn’t take his eyes off his phone during the ride to the Building Department. Will felt badly, but was starting to realize how bad Pagliano was - at least a level ten psychopath. 
    “Don’t worry Matt, he’ll call,” He tried to reassure him as they pulled into the parking lot of the building department. It was hard to believe just yesterday he had first met Sheryl. “Wait here. As soon as she calls, get me and we’ll go get her.”
    He got through the door just as they were locking up with an urgent plea to see Sheryl. Will took the bag and went inside. Just before he lost sight of the parking lot he looked over his shoulder at Matt, sitting in the passenger seat, oblivious of the heat, head down staring at the phone. 
    Two customers remained at Sheryl’s desk when he walked in. He sat in the closest chair and waited, watching her as she worked. The couple finished their business and he almost ran into them in his rush to get to her, “Here you go. Sorry it took so long. I was out with a charter, and didn’t get your text until I got back,” he blurted.
    “Easy. No problem.” She smiled and reached for the bag. “My boss saw that I logged the files out. Now he’s all hot, but this ought to settle him down.” She tapped the bag.
    “Don’t you think we should tell him about what we found? Somebody has to do something.”
    She thought for a moment. “He’s not exactly Mr. Action, but he’ll listen, and maybe know what to do. Alright.” 
    Will turned away.
    “Where are you going? I’m not going in there alone.”
    Reluctantly, he followed her as they went deep into the maze of cubicles and offices. They went to the glass-fronted office and Sheryl tapped lightly on the door. The man looked up and signaled for them to enter. He stood and shook Will’s hand. “About time Sheryl’s got a boyfriend. Name’s Adams, Bill Adams.”
    Sheryl looked wounded by his comment. She handed him the file. “Here it is. I think we should tell you that we went out there and had a look around.”
    Will watched as Bill’s head bobbed, more of a tick than a nod as Sheryl spoke. At the point in the story where they saw the tanks, he got the feeling that this was not the guy to be telling this to. His brow was starting to furrow as she spoke and nothing had even happened yet. It was evident from his face and body language that he was the epitome of a mid level bureaucrat. This was not someone who was going to help. He tapped her shoulder and stopped her. Apparently she had the same feeling or read his mind as she quickly stopped.
    “That’s quite a story.” He picked up the phone and dialed a number.
    “Who are you calling?” Sheryl asked.
    He looked sternly at them. “I’m calling the sheriff. You stole a file and trespassed on private property. This could look bad - like you were working for us. No. I have to do this to clear the department. They’ll deal with you, and by the way, you’re fired for stealing the files.”
    She stood. “You piece of crap. I’ll bring you up on sexual harassment charges for all your little innuendoes. Come on,” she muttered, grabbing her bag. “Let’s get out of here.”
    Will followed her out the door, almost at a run. “Where are you parked? What about the police? He said he was going to call the sheriff,” Will said as they reached her car. 
    “I don’t know what to do,” she reached for him. 
    He hugged her, “The best thing we can do is go to the sheriff and report it