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A quick glance at his cell told him he had reception. Ross fired off a text to Mac about the stolen yacht. Holding up the phone to take pictures of the boats, he zoomed in on the yacht and the 30-foot cigarette boat next to it. Though he tapped the screen to take photographs as if he were a tourist, he couldn’t get a clear shot of the people on board. As he viewed the yacht, he frowned. Something wasn’t right. Money Ball—he knew now by the name and the green and bronze colors—was dragging. Her swim deck on the stern was underwater. It didn’t appear that the yacht or the speed boat next to her was under way. He steered the rental to make a wide circle around the three boats. When his cell vibrated in his hand, he read Mac’s text.
I’ve contacted Port Security and the TB Marine Police.
