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  The Boss of Hampton Beach

  Jed Power

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  Dark Jetty Publishing

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  Cocaine. Dan Marlowe is doing his damnedest to stay away from the stuff. It’s already cost him his family and his business, The High Tide Restaurant & Saloon. Now a bartender at the Tide, Dan’s life is slowly stabilizing. That is until a boat with two dead bodies on board is found wrecked on the jetty at Hampton Beach. The hunt for its missing cargo, 200 pounds of cocaine, is on. Dan is forced into the search and realizes that the drug that stole everything short of his life might be the one thing that can give it all back.

  He’s not the only one seeking the fortune in white powder. Others, on both sides of the law, are after it too, including a Boston mob boss and his right-hand man; a New Hampshire seacoast drug dealer/informer, his smokin’ hot girlfriend, and his dim-witted muscle; a crooked D.E.A. agent and his junkie sidekick; two New Hampshire State policemen; and an Irish handyman. It’s a violent, back-stabbing race to the end of the rainbow. May the best man win.

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  Published by

  Dark Jetty Publishing

  4 Essex Center Drive #3906

  Peabody, MA 01961

  The Boss of Hampton Beach

  Copyright 2012 James Power

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Cover Artist:

  Brandon Swann

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and incidents in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  ISBN 978-0-9858617-0-4

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Epilogue

  About the Author

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  Acknowledgement

  The author would like to thank his editor, Louisa Swann, for her excellent work, encouragement and patience, without which “Boss” would not have come this far.

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  THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO MY WIFE, CANDY.

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  The Boss of Hampton Beach

  Jed Power

  Chapter One

  Captain Bill McGee always said he wanted his ashes scattered off the coast of Hampton Beach. He'd never said anything about dying there and certainly not tonight. After all, he was in the prime of his life.

  Still, that life had been a struggle recently, just like it was for every other party boat operator along the New Hampshire seacoast. The boom times of the 80's were long over. Now it was the 90's, and instead of having his charter boats overflowing with hopeful fishermen every morning when they left Hampton Harbor, he was lucky if the tubs were half full. Ditto for his whale watch and Wednesday night fireworks cruises.

  Yeah, money was tight, real tight, and it had slowly dawned on him if he wasn't creative, he'd lose the whole shebang–the business, the boats, his house, everything. The worst, by far, would be losing the business that had been in his family for three generations. That's what he'd been thinking about–worrying about, really–for the past few months.

  So when the well-dressed Hispanic had approached him with a proposition, it was like the man was reading McGee's mind. Even though he wasn't happy with the idea (in fact, it scared him to death), he didn't hesitate in giving the man an answer right then and there. He didn't even have to sleep on it. Yeah, he'd do it. For the right price. The man agreed to his price and told McGee not to worry. It'd be as easy as a bluefish run.

  McGee had to admit everything had gone okay so far. He'd taken one of his best and oldest crew members, Harry, a guy who'd keep his mouth shut for a nice piece of change, and gone exactly where the Hispanic sent him–three miles out beyond the Isle of Shoals. The weather stayed good, calm seas and no moon. And the boat they were meeting had even shown up almost on time. When they'd gotten close enough to the larger vessel, somebody tossed the duffel bags one at a time over the side. McGee had caught them as best he could in the dark with the boat lurching. He'd passed them on to Harry, who'd stashed the bags below.

  And so far, that had been that. It looked like everything was going to be all right. Easy money–real easy money.

  At least so far.

  Now they were on their way back from the pickup spot. McGee at the wheel, his grizzled face all screwed up, peered through the front cabin window as they came up to the mouth of Hampton Harbor. A long, rock jetty jutted out from the beach on their starboard side. Dead ahead loomed the Hampton Bridge. It was a drawbridge, but he was using the smallest of his boats tonight. Between the size of his boat and low tide he could pass beneath the bridge without the hassle of having it raised. In a few minutes they'd be in the harbor. A few more minutes and they'd tie up at his dock and be home free.

  Not soon enough, McGee thought. He took his hands off the wheel and scrubbed at his sweaty palms. His heart was going at a good clip, too. He'd need more than a few cold ones when this was over.

  He was thinking about how good those beers would make him feel when he heard an outboard motor starting up. Christ, it sounded like another boat was right on top of them. He tried to calm himself–sound tended to carry across the water on clear nights. A craft could be a lot further away than it sounded. At least that's what he was hoping.

  "Harry, see what the hell that is." McGee scanned the darkness, seeing nothing but the black outline of the jetty and the lights of a few homes off to port.

  He could hear Harry scrambling around the back of the boat. It sounded like the other craft was already in the boat with them, a fact he didn't like one bit. The Hispanic had said he'd meet McGee when they tied up at the dock in the harbor. Could he have changed his plans and decided to hook up with them out here, just to keep McGee honest?

  There was a loud thump against the starboard side of the boat. McGee glanced over his shoulder and shoved the throttle forward, wishing that he was already under that damn bridge and back at his dock drinking cold beer.

  "Harry, what the hell's going on?" he yelled, not surprised at the shakiness in his voice.

  "Jesus, it's a . . . ahhh . . ." Something banged hard, followed by shuffling and more banging. McGee let go of the wheel and spun around. He grabbed a metal fish gaffe and held it shoulder high.

  Two figures moved toward him from
the back of the boat. As they got closer he could see that they both wore masks and that his hook wasn't going to scare anybody, because both men had pistols pointed directly at him. The first of the men was tall and powerfully built. The second man didn't look as threatening, although he didn't have to with that gun in his fist.

  "Throw it over to the side, fuckhead," the big man said.

  McGee tossed the hook to his left. Then he held his breath, thinking of every terrible thing that might happen to him in the next few minutes. He didn't have long to think. The big man walked right up to him and started swinging that gun for the side of his head . . .

  . . . and that was the last thing Captain Bill McGee ever saw.

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