KING HARBOR INTERNATIONAL BEACH VOLLEYBALL TOURNAMENT
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$10,000 FIRST PRIZE

Cody shifted the grocery bag from one arm to the other as he read the large placard in the surf shop window. He glanced up as Nick approached, thumbing through their mail. "Hey, Nick, did you see this?"

Nick quirked a brow as he spared a glance first at Cody, then the window. "Yeah." Short, to the point, and right back to the mail.

Cody waited a few seconds, hoping for a more enthusiastic response, and ended up just staring at his partner when nothing more was forthcoming. "Well? What do you think?"

Nick's forehead creased as he studied the envelopes, completely absorbed. "'Bout what?"

Cody huffed in resigned frustration. "About the tournament."

Nick finally looked at him, clearly confused. "What? Oh. Yeah, we should go. When is it?" Back to the mail.

Cody sighed again at his partner's distraction. "What are you looking for?"

Nick managed a wry shake of his head. "I was hoping that Marlon Carter actually put the check in the mail like he said he did. I ordered some Mimi parts, and I'm not sure we'll have the cash to cover it." He bounced the envelopes against his thigh and headed down the promenade with a determined stride. "We did good work for him; is it too much to ask that he actually pay for it?"

Cody hurried to catch up. "Maybe he's got a temporary cash flow problem."

"Yeah, afternoons at the Blue Diamond Strip Club will do that to a guy."

Cody smiled and shrugged lightly. Hard to argue with Nick's logic. But, "I know how we could keep Mimi in parts for a while."

Nick never even broke stride. "How's that?"

"If we won that volleyball tournament, she'd have ten grand to play with."

Nick shook his head slightly, "Would you be serious?"

That wasn't exactly the eager response Cody was hoping for. "I am being serious."

"Ah, c'mon."

"Why not? We're good."

Nick snorted, "Yeah, we're good."

"Come on, Nick; we could do it."

Nick stopped abruptly and turned to Cody. "We're decent against the regulars around here, Cody, but against a really good team? I don't think so."

Cody bounced his brows, "I bet we're better than you think."

"Look, man, I enjoy a good game as much as the next guy, but I need to believe we have at least a chance of winning. I really don't have a good time when I get my ass handed to me on a platter." With that, he turned and walked off with the same focused pace.

Cody jogged to catch up, "Ah, c'mon, Nick. At least give us a shot. You don't even know how good we might be."

Nick sighed and finally slowed down a little. "Cody, with that kind of money as a prize, people from all over are gonna enter. International teams even. You don't honestly believe we'd have a chance against a couple of giants from South America, do you?"

Cody started to answer, but then he took a second to think. Nick might be right about teams coming from all over…but they could still make an effort. Ten grand was ten grand. "Maybe." A grin of excited encouragement.

Nick rolled his eyes, "Well, you're gonna have to find someone else to eat the sand with, buddy. I'm not doing it."

Cody had been pretty sure he could talk Nick around, but despite frequent encouragement and hopeful suggestions, his partner had remained adamant about not entering the tournament. And as much as Cody really wanted to test himself against the outside competition—and maybe win ten thousand bucks—he didn't want to do it without his partner. They'd occasionally played with other people, when one or the other was unavailable or injured, but neither of them was as good on their own. Passable, sure, but the two of them were much better players as a team. So Cody finally resigned himself to being on the sidelines for the big tournament.

And when he saw the size of some of the new teams on the beach in the weeks leading up to the tournament, he began to think maybe Nick had been right all along. His partner never said, 'I told you so'…but then, he didn't have to. No doubt, Nick could read Cody's disbelief when they passed the nets being played by guys that were six-eight, six-ten, even seven feet tall. Nick just elbowed Cody's arm, fought a smile, and kept walking without a word.

Cody was in the salon writing the client report for their last case, when he heard someone on the dock.

"Ahoy, Riptide. Anyone home?"

Cody glanced out the window to see two men on the dock looking over the boat. "Yeah! Just a sec!" He called down to Nick in the galley and Boz in the computer room, "Guys, we got company."

The three of them climbed to the wheelhouse, Cody leading the way. He looked over the railing. "Come aboard. Can we help you?"

Both men were quite tall, one with sandy hair starting to gray, the other with very dark skin, bald, his age impossible to determine but probably middle aged. Both were in excellent shape. They climbed on the boat and scrutinized Cody and Nick carefully.

After a few seconds, Cody became uncomfortable with their wordless examination and glanced at Nick who was glaring at the two men like they might be contagious.

Murray just looked at all four of them, confused. Finally, he broke the impasse of staring. "Gentlemen? Can we help you?"

The blond blinked and managed an embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry. That was incredibly rude." He elbowed the black man who snickered softly as he bowed his head in agreement.

"Pardon us for staring; you were recommended, but it would be necessary that you look the part." The black man's accent was faintly…British? Maybe. Maybe not. Definitely not American.

Murray continued to look baffled while Nick seemed to be deciding whether to ask them to sit or to toss them overboard.

Cody stepped in to see if he could clear some of the confusion. "I think maybe we missed something. Who recommended us for what?"

Murray added his question, "And what do we need to look like?"

The tall blond held his hands up in surrender. "I apologize again. I'm Alex Reed; this is Jace Olatidoye. May we sit down and explain why we need your help?"

Cody waved them to the bench seat, and he, Nick, and Boz pulled up the deck chairs. "Mr. Reed, Mr.…? What was that again?"

The black man's teeth were brilliant white when he laughed. "Everyone in the states has trouble with it. Olatidoye. Oh-lah-tea-doy."

Cody tried it out on his tongue, and to his surprise, it came out completely correct. "Mr...Olatidoye?"

The man beamed in pleasure. "Perfect!"

Cody grinned in triumph at his partners. Murray laughed in delight; Nick smiled, but he still didn't take his eyes off their visitors.

Cody turned back to them. "I'm Cody Allen, this is Murray Bozinsky and Nick Ryder. So, what can we do for you?"

Reed and Olah-whatever…glanced at each other, and Reed took the lead. "We're from the California Beach Volleyball Association—the group that organized the King Harbor Beach Tournament. I'm told that you two play."

Cody blinked in surprise and glanced at his partners to see the same on their faces. "Sure. For fun. Never anything serious like what you're doing."

Reed nodded in understanding. "I don't know if you're aware of this, but organized beach volleyball has grown tremendously over the last few years. There's been some talk of trying to make it an Olympic sport."

Jace agreed enthusiastically. "That's one of the reasons for this tournament. You probably know that the Association has standardized the rules, but we've got to get more people involved. More people playing, more people watching. If we can make this into a sport that people come to see, when we apply for beach volleyball to be added as a demonstration event at the Olympics, hopefully we'll have some numbers to back up our submission."

Cody tried to picture beach volleyball being played at the Olympics. And then wondered briefly how it would be played if there was no beach nearby. Murray's eyebrows climbed all the way up to his hairline as he considered the idea.

Nick looked a little intrigued, but he continued to study their visitors. "Okay, that's great and all, but what's the problem and how do we fit into the solution?"

Cody could always count on Nick to cut right to the chase.

Reed nodded, "Of course. Just a little background on why we want so badly for the King Harbor Tournament to succeed."

"You're giving ten thousand dollars to the winners, right? Seems like that'll probably do the trick."

"We hope so. We wanted to attract the top teams from around the world to give them more U.S. exposure and also to recruit new fans."

"Okay. And…"

"And they're here. But…a few of them have received threats."

Cody stared as Murray sputtered indignantly, "What? Threats?"

"Yes. We've got teams here from the U.S., South America, Australia, New Zealand, and Japan. But several of them have received…warnings…that they should not compete."

"What kind of warnings?"

"Threats to them, their families. We've had three teams report it so far, but there might be more."

Murray started immediately, "Can you describe the threats?"

Reed answered, "This morning, Lucien McAvoy from Australia received a phone call warning him that something might happen to his wife."

Jace followed, "And the Brazilians, Carritas and Mendez, and the American team of Harwell and Wise both received written warnings."

Murray scooted to the edge of his chair, "Do you have them? Have they been analyzed?"

Reed and Jace shared a regretful glance, "No, we've not had time to have them professionally examined. This only started a couple of days ago. But we did bring them with us. We thought you might…?" Jace pulled a manila envelope from his shirt pocket.

Cody and Nick leaned over Murray's shoulders and read the two typed notes that were worded exactly the same: "Drop out of the King Harbor Tournament or there will be consequences. This is real."

Nick studied the note received by the American team, "Has anything like this ever happened before?"

Reed and Jace both looked unhappily baffled, "Not that we know of. At least the Association has never had it happen in any sanctioned tournament. And the three teams that have been threatened all deny any previous problems. They're naturally quite stunned."

Cody handed the Brazilian warning back to Murray and glanced at Nick before looking back to Reed and Jace. "Harwell and Wise…that's not Tim Harwell and Rusty Wise, is it?"

Jace nodded with another huge smile. "Yes, actually. They were the ones who recommended we talk to you."

Cody grinned at Nick. "Hey, remember that time we almost beat them? We took 'em to three games."

Nick's smile was a little sardonic, "Only because Rusty stepped on a piece of glass during the second game." He laughed involuntarily and looked back at their clients. "He finally put a sock on over the bandage to keep the sand out, and they killed us in the third game."

The two men on the bench seat laughed as Cody conceded the point. He shrugged; it was still a three game match regardless of the circumstances. And technically, Rusty broke the rules with the sock.

"Tim and Rusty were in the tournament office today when McAvoy came in to report the phone threat. We told them about the Brazilians, and they suggested we contact you."

Murray had returned the threatening notes to the envelope, "What about the police?"

Jace sighed, "We've notified them, of course, and they're in charge of tournament security, but the local constable, a rather disagreeable chap named Quinlan, tells me there's very little they can do if we are unable to suggest any viable suspects."

Cody studied their clients, "You clearly have an idea about how we should proceed."

Reed looked a question at Jace who nodded briefly, "Well, you're the professionals, of course, but we thought a good plan might be if the two of you entered the tournament."

Cody managed a quick glance at Nick whose brow drew down dramatically.

Jace shrugged minutely, "That would give you access to all the events, the teams. You would have a chance to observe everything, to see if there were any…I don't know…suspicious characters hanging about?"

After a quick glance at Boz, Cody caught Nick's eye. Cody could see that Nick was at least thinking about the idea. He was always the most difficult to convince when it came to taking a case, but he was also the one who got most riled by injustice. And threats really got up his nose. Added in the fact that the threats were made against their friends…

Cody glanced over, eyeing Nick... Come on, buddy; this is a good plan.

Nick still looked unsure… We don't know what we're getting into. The threats could be from anywhere.

Cody applied a little more pressure… Tim and Rusty are already in the middle of it; we gotta help 'em.

Nick nodded and sighed in defeat… Yeah, we have to do something.

Cody looked at Murray who had watched their silent conversation. He nodded briefly. Cody turned back to the two men, "We're in."

Nick looked resigned, but he brought up an issue, "Haven't you already got a full roster?"

Reed couldn't stop his relieved smile, "Yes, but we had a cancellation a few days ago. Did you know you can still get the chicken pox as an adult?"

Murray nodded quickly, but Cody's glance at Nick showed him just as surprised as Cody. Still, it wasn't necessary to notify their new clients that they hadn't known that little fact.

"So what's on the tournament agenda?" Count on Murray to plan their next step.

Reed pulled out a manila envelope and handed it over. "Here are the printed materials that we sent to the teams. There's also a list of all the teams entered in the tournament, where they're from, and how well they've performed recently. While the association has no official ranking at this time, it will be clear almost immediately who the top teams are by their records and tournament finishes."

Jace took up the conversation, "There are practices and workouts planned for the next two days and a reception Friday night—a final get together before the tournament gets started on Saturday. Most of the teams already know each other from other events. It will give you guys a chance to get acquainted with them. And Tim and Rusty can introduce you around, give you some inside information."

Cody looked at Nick, "Doesn't Tim's mom live in…?"

Nick scratched behind one ear, "Uh, Hermosa, I think. And Rusty's folks are from New Mexico or somewhere like that."

Reed glanced at Jace, looking pleased, "That's right. They said you'd probably remember." He reached in a pocket, pulling out a slip of paper. "They're at Tim's for the rest of the afternoon if you want to call."

Cody took the paper and stood to shake their clients' hands. Boz and Nick followed, and they watched the two men climb the companionway and head toward the beach.

Murray fingered the envelope with the event information, clearly ready to get started, "What do you think, guys?"

Nick glared at Cody suspiciously, "You didn't set this up just to get me in this stupid tournament, did you?"

Cody smiled broadly and dropped an arm around Nick's shoulders, "Would I do something that devious?"

Nick looked dubious, "In a heartbeat. Don't play innocent with me; I've known you too long."

Cody just laughed and climbed up to the wheelhouse, feeling Nick's laser stare all the way. Cody had to admit it was rather poetic how things worked out sometimes.