The Pogues sat on the porch of the chateau, a tense silence hanging in the air as they mulled over the implications of the recent news.
Pope spoke up first, his voice hesitant. "Okay, um... so... We didn't see anything. We don't know anything. We need to act like we have total and complete amnesia."
JJ nodded in agreement with Pope, surprising him. "Actually, Pope's right for once," she admitted, earning a surprised look from him. Despite their frequent clashes, she added with a smirk, "See, I agree with you sometimes."
She winked at him and got up, pacing back and forth. "Deny, deny, deny," she repeated, absentmindedly flicking the lid of her lighter open and closed.
"Guys, we can't keep that money," Kie interjected predictably. JJ sighed in frustration.
"Okay, not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara," JJ said, frustration evident in her voice. To her, that money could feed her and John B for months.
"We have to pass that off to Lana Grubbs," Kie insisted. "Otherwise, it's bad karma."
"It's bad karma to be implicated in a felony, too," Pope retorted smartly. "We need to go dark."
"If that means we get to keep the money, then I'm in," JJ nodded in agreement, moving to stand beside John B.
It seems they're not on the same page because John B touches her shoulder and looks her in the eye when he says, "I don't agree."
JJ frowned as he turned away from her. Did he not understand what this money meant for them? "What? Why?"
"Just think about it," he explained, and she could tell he was about to share something important. "This is Scooter Grubbs we're talking about. The same guy who buys individual cigarettes at the Porthole. Hell, one time I saw him begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot because he needed gas."
JJ's mind churned as she listened, on the verge of a revelation.
"We're talking about a dirtbag marina rat," John B continued passionately. "A guy who's never had more than 40 bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden he's got a Grady White? Just sayin'." He held his palm up casually, as if he hadn't just dropped the most mind-blowing revelation of the day.
They all contemplated what John B had just said. Pope stood up and grabbed a fishing pole, a habit that helped him think. The others followed him to the small dock outside the chateau, knowing he was the brains of the group and waiting for his take. John B appeared to have a theory already but was waiting for Pope to catch up.
"All right, so think about it, Pope," John B prompted, trying to speed up Pope's thought process. "How does a marina rat get a Grady White?"
"Prostitution," Pope replied simply.
'What a letdown,' JJ thought to herself, disappointed by the anticlimactic answer.
"Square groupers, bro," John B interjected. "Flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance. They don't do that stuff during a hurricane."
When Pope remained silent, John B turned to JJ, knowing she had more knowledge of illegal activities, given her family background.
"What does that mean, JJ?" he asked.
"They were straight smuggling," JJ replied, a sense of understanding dawning on her. It made sense, she thought to herself.
"Smuggling," John B agreed. "And I guarantee there's a serious amount of contraband in that wreck."
JJ felt a surge of excitement. "Hell yeah!"
Just then, the fishing pole tugged, and Pope started reeling it in.
"Fish on!" JJ cheered.
After Pope reeled in the fish, John B cleaned them along with enough fish from the fridge for each of them to have one. They cooked the fish over a fire that John B built in the yard, and after eating, they gathered around the dining room table to continue their conversation.
"For the record, if that is a smuggling ship with illegal contraband on it, it probably belongs to someone else," Pope cautioned.
"Minor details," Kie chimed in optimistically.
"They could come looking for it," Pope said seriously. "Taking it would be catastrophically stupid."
"Right. Well, stupid things have good outcomes all the time," JJ told him with her trademark audacity. She held up the money like a fan in front of her. "All we need to do is figure out a way to get into the cargo hold of that wreck. Until then, we just lay low. Act normal."
Pope sighed. "Right, and how exactly do we do that?"
"Kegger?" Kie suggested, and that settled it. Everyone agreed.
JJ called up her cousin to arrange for a few kegs to be picked up the next morning, and they all started spreading the word. After saying their goodbyes, Kie and Pope headed home.
John B and JJ decided to call it a night and headed off to bed.
JJ fell asleep quickly, her head and hair sprawled on John B's chest, with her arm around his midsection and her leg tangled with his. Sleep eluded John B, however, as he lay there lost in thought, absentmindedly playing with a strand of JJ's hair.
John B knew he wouldn't be able to avoid DCS much longer, and a recurring thought kept entering his mind. He hadn't broached the subject with JJ yet, but he couldn't bear the idea of being taken away and leaving her without a safe haven. The bruises around JJ's neck were a constant reminder that Luke's abuse was escalating, even though JJ refused to acknowledge it. She concealed her neck well with one of John B's bandanas, but he would never forget. Unconsciously, he held JJ a little tighter, as if his arms could shield her from further harm.
He decided that the next time DCS came knocking, he would convince JJ to run away with him. For now, he pushed those thoughts aside and let himself drift off to sleep, dreaming of sunny beaches and surfing.
