“I’m gettin’ da hail outta Pawleys, I tell ya dat right now,” the one-eyed man said, then shook his head.
“I hear ya.” Troy took in a deep breath. “Might be time for me to move on too.”
And that’s when the swarm of police cars finally arrived.
“Not once in this whole, dang mess have they showed up on time.” Troy raised his hands, palms to the sky. “Dangit, y’all need to work on your response time!”
38
I’ll Take It
Chesney Richard Biggins watched as the black ‘89 Lincoln Towncar eased into the parking lot in front of the Balls beach store. He inhaled deeply as Winchester Boonesborough rolled his window down. In typical fashion, he refused to get out of his car. He motioned Chesney toward the car with an impatient wave. Nodding toward his friend from the F.B.I., John Dodd Welford, Chesney hooked his thumbs in his belt and walked toward the car.
“Really screwed the pooch on this one, didn’t we, Deputy Biggins?” Winchester said, his meaty jowls bouncing up and down. “You can damn well bet there’ll be hell to pay for this!”
Chesney sucked his breath through his teeth. With deliberate slowness, he pulled his badge off his shirt. He laid it on the hood of the Towncar.
“What’s this?” Winchester was dumbfounded.
Chesney ignored him. He slid his police issue pistol from its holster and laid it next to the badge. “I quit,” he said to the puffing District Attorney.
“Oh, no you don’t,” said the fat man, making like he was going to get out of his car.
“Mr. Boonesborough,” a voice interrupted him, “we’ll take this from here.”
John walked up to the car and placed a hand on the door as if to block it from being opened.
“And just who the hell do you think—”
John flashed a badge and I.D. card from his back pocket. “John Dodd Welford, Federal Bureau of Investigation. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”
Winchester huffed. “But this is in my jurisdiction!”
“Not since it became a conspiracy to commit fraud and homicide,” John said, winking at him. “It’s ours now. Why don’t you just go on home now?”
Winchester glared at him. John picked up the badge and the gun from the hood and handed them to him.
“Looks like you’ve got some H.R. problems to attend to anyway,” he said.
Without taking them from him, Winchester Boonesborough pursed his lips and pushed the button to roll up his electric window. It moved up comically slow and the three of them just stared at each other in the slow buzz of it rising. The car eased out of the lot, then bumped onto the highway and disappeared down the road.
John shrugged, handing the items back to Chesney. “Guess he isn’t accepting your resignation.”
“I’ll have to file it officially back at the station, anyway.”
“What will you do now?” John asked. “I can put in a good word with the bureau if you want.”
Chesney shook his head. “No thanks. It’s time for a change, just not sure what it is yet.”
As if on cue, a maroon Bentley pulled into the lot. Laura jumped out of the back seat as soon as it came to rest and ran toward them. Seeing her, Karah let go of Troy and ran toward her too. They broke into sobs, hugging each other tightly. An older couple stepped out of the car. The man was pale and his eyes were wide. The woman had warm, auburn hair that reminded Troy of Karah’s. Ahhh, mom and dad.
The woman broke into tears as she ran toward Karah. Karah released her hug on Laura and wrapped her arms around her mother.
“My baby!” she cried.
They held each other for a long while.
Not far away and standing near Troy, Laura was watching the fire crew controlling the dwindling blaze coming from the gas pumps.
“What happened?” she asked Troy.
He relayed the crazy story in short form, leaving out a few details. Chesney walked up to them and stretched out a hand to Troy.
“Glad to see you’re okay, Troy,” he said with a smile.
“Thanks, partner,” Troy said.
Chesney pointed to his hat. “You get rid of that check?”
Troy inclined his head toward the smoldering mess in front of The Hardware Store. “In a blaze of glory.”
“Glad to see the hat survived though.”
“Sure enough.” Troy pulled the hat off his head and held it out toward Laura. “I guess it belongs to you now.”
Laura smiled. “No, Troy. You’ve made it yours. And I think Rick would be proud of the man who’s taken over the hat.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“I’m sure,” she said, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek. “What would I do with it, anyway?”
“Well, dang,” he said looking down at it, “that’s about the nicest thing anyone has ever given me. If you’re really sure, I’ll take it.”
“Totally sure,” she said, and smiled wide.
He put the hat back on its rightful place on his head. Karah’s father moved up to the group and extended his hand.
“I hear that I owe you for saving my baby girl’s life?” he said, shaking Troy’s hand. “I’m Roger Campobello, and I am very grateful to you, sir.”
Troy felt a little shame edge onto his face… seeing as how he had been considering dating this man’s daughter. He realized that he was almost the same age as Mr. Campobello. He looked over to where Karah was standing, embraced in her mother’s arms. She looked like a little girl. Troy knew the relationship that had started to blossom between them was at an end.
“Listen,” Mr. Campobello addressed the group, “Karah is starving. We’re going to get her cleaned up and get something to eat. Why don’t you all come along?”
Troy looked at Laura and Chesney. “Ummmm…”
Laura nudged him. “Sure thing, Uncle Roger. I know the perfect place.”
Jumping into Troy’s awkward silence, Chesney slapped him on the back of his shoulder and smiled. “Why don’t you ride with me?”
“Perfect,” Troy said, sighing with relief.
“You ride with us, Laura.” Mr. Campobello put his arm around her shoulder. “Where shall we go?”
“Lee’s Inlet Kitchen, of course,” she said, beaming.
“I know the way,” Chesney said.
39
Sweet Sorrow
Laura Kate Starlington and Chesney Richard Biggins sat in a booth alone at Lee’s Inlet Kitchen. The group had split up, since the booths only held four people, so Laura had deferred to letting Karah sit with her parents and, awkwardly, Troy.
The whole story had come full circle. This was where they had met and where Laura had found out her stepfather, Rick Hairre, had been murdered in some kind of conspiracy or blackmail plot. Chesney had said that his friend at the F.B.I. was in on the investigation and that the whole mess with some corporate paper mill was going in front of the grand jury or something like that. He assured her that they were most likely out of business, and that someone would probably go to jail for the whole thing. Rick’s killers were all dead, so at least that gave her some sense of closure on it all.
“So…” Chesney swirled a salty fry around in the ketchup on his plate, “what’s next for you?”
Laura thought about this for a minute. She opened her mouth, then shut it, then opened it again. Finally, she said, “I hadn’t really thought about it. I guess I’ll go back to work on Monday.”
“Work?” Chesney asked, stuffing the fry in his mouth. “Why would you do that?”
She crinkled her nose. “Um, because that’s what people do. They work.”
He took a sip of his Coca-Cola. “Not me, actually. I’m pretty sure I just resigned.”
Her eyes widened. “Wow,” she said, “bold move. So, I guess I should be the one asking what’s next for you.”
“Yeah, I guess I hadn’t really thought about it either.”
A long moment of silence passed between them, the only sounds the clinking of glasses
and plates and the muted conversation going on between the Campobellos and Troy.
“You know what I really should do,” Laura suddenly said, “I should use the money to start a foundation. I think it’s pretty clear that the environment gets a pretty crappy shake around here.”
“Mmhmm,” Chesney said between bites, “would be a nice legacy for Rick. It looks like that’s what he was going to do with the check… the big check, anyway.”
She thought about it for a second. “Hey, won’t the F.B.I. be able to trace the second deposit back to me?”
“I doubt it,” —Chesney glanced sideways for a second— “I deleted that file from the zip drive and scrubbed it with a cleaner file from the internet.”
“Oh,” Laura said, not really understanding what that meant.
“And I’m guessing that someone at the Consolidated Paper Mill is working hard in the shredding room and burying any digital evidence of all those transactions too.”
Laura sniffed and wiped her mouth. “So, why don’t you help me out?” she asked.
“Huh?” He furrowed his eyebrows.
“Help me out, with starting the foundation,” she continued. “I don’t know the first thing about it, but I can keep us floating with the money until we get real backers.”
Chesney laughed. “I have no clue about any of that. I’m sure I wouldn’t be any help at all.”
“Yeah, me neither,” she grinned.
She caught his eyes. He really was a sweet guy.
“Or we could buy a boat and sail around the Keys for a bit,” she said, winking at him.
“Now, that sounds more like it,” he said. “I am a pretty good sailor, you know?”
“Really?” She raised her eyebrows.
“No, not really,” he said, smiling, “but I think I could figure it out. You want to come to my place tonight and talk about it?”
“Well, well, Mr. Biggins.” She took his hand in hers. “I’d like that very much. I think this might be the start of a beautiful friendship.”
“Indeed,” he said, and nodded.
They all piled out of the diner, patting their bellies and complaining about how full they were. The night air was cool and heavy with a warm wind blowing in from the ocean. The sky was hazy with the moisture of rain on the way.
Karah Campobello took Troy Clint Bodean’s hand and walked out into the parking lot.
“I’m gonna go be with my folks for a bit,” she said, kissing him on the cheek, “and then I’ll come over and we can talk.”
Troy brushed a strand of auburn hair off her forehead. “Sure thing, darlin’.”
He let her go and waved to her parents as they hugged again and piled into their car. He wondered why his throat felt so thick and his eyes burned. He thought maybe it was because he knew what they’d be talking about later.
“Hey, Troy,” Chesney called to him, “you need a ride back to the island?”
He nodded, afraid to speak for fear he’d let out the emotion his mind was holding back.
Laura patted his shoulder, maybe sensing his struggle. They all piled into Chesney’s cruiser and drove in silence back to The Turtle House. They let Troy out and waved their goodbyes.
He walked into the house just as raindrops began pattering on the metal roof. He went to the fridge and cracked open a Corona. After taking a long sip of the beer, he walked to the beachside of the house and slid open the glass door.
He stepped out onto the screened in porch and plopped himself down into a rocking chair. He’d just about finished his beer when he saw a figure walking up the beach holding a rain jacket above their head.
Karah jogged up the steps and knocked on the screen door playfully.
“Anybody home?” she asked.
“Come on in, darlin’.” He motioned her to the chair next to him.
She plopped down and shook off the drops of water clinging to her hair.
“Beer?” He held up his empty bottle and nodded back into the house.
“Definitely,” she said.
He returned with two Coronas, a slice of lime in each, and handed her one and slid into the rocking chair next to her.
They sat for a long time, saying nothing and staring out at the ocean. In the distance, lightning flashed, but the storm was far away.
“So,” she finally said, “I’m going back to school.”
“Good idea,” he replied, sipping his beer.
She was quiet again.
“You’ll be okay, darlin’,” he said softly. “It’ll take time, but you’ll be okay.”
“Troy,” she said, tears starting to touch her eyes, “I’m gonna miss you.”
He took his hat off his head. “Karah, you’re a sweet girl. You belong in college, where the future is bright and you got things to look forward to…”
She reached out and took his hand. “I know, really I do.”
“And I belong on a dock with a fishin’ pole in my hand,” he said, smiling, “but next time I’m wearin’ a helmet.”
She sniffed out a laugh and wiped her eyes, remembering the first time she’d seen him, getting wacked by the fishing boat.
“And, I’ll probably come back to visit Laura during summer breaks and all,” she said. “I’m sure I’ll see you then.”
He nodded and took a swig of beer. He didn’t answer that one. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he was leaving soon and wouldn’t be back.
“Troy…” she said quietly.
“Yes?”
“Can we sit on the roof again?”
“In the rain? Not much of a sunset to see tonight.”
She nodded.
“Sure thing, little darlin’.”
As they climbed up to the roof, the rain stopped and the stars blinked into sight. They said their goodbyes in silence.
Troy woke in the hammock under the house the next morning.
Karah had gone.
40
Check It Out Now
Daisy Mae Gallup cradled her sleeping baby in her arms as her sister drove. Their stolen Jeep had been burned to bits by that asshat, Darren, back at Pawleys Island, but they’d been lucky enough to find another ride behind the cheesy beach store in the parking lot of a self-storage building. Daisy Mae didn’t know much about cars, but she figured this one was pretty nice.
The owner’s manual had told her this was a Mercedes Benz AMG G65 SUV. She had absolutely no idea what that meant, and had promptly stuffed the manual back into the glove box.
“I’m gon stop at the next gas station,” Ellie Mae suddenly whispered. “I gotta pee somethin’ fierce.”
“Al-right,” said Daisy Mae, “sounds good. I need ta stretch out mah legs anyhow and git these shoes owff. Mah feet are swelled up like a pig in heat.”
The next station turned out to be a little mom and pop place with only one pump and a unisex bathroom that looked like a deer had died in it. But when nature calls, ya gotta answer.
Ellie Mae jogged off to do her business and Daisy Mae gently laid little T.C. down in the back seat to let him nap. He was a beautiful baby, that was for sure. She thought she’d have Ellie Mae pull into the next Baby Gear store she saw and steal him a proper car seat.
She leaned back against the side of the car and pulled one of her shoes off.
“Oh, mah God, that’s better’n sex,” she said, scratching the bottom of her foot.
She tossed the shoe into the floorboard of the car and pulled the other one off. As she did, a piece of paper that must’ve been stuck to the bottom of her shoe fluttered away and landed at her feet.
“What’s ‘is ‘en?”
She bent down to pick up the paper and unfolded it to read it. Her eyes went wide and nearly popped out of her head.
Ellie Mae Gallup returned to the car and slumped into the driver’s seat.
“Whew, dang,” she said and started the car, “that was a close one. I dang near peed on tha flah.”
Daisy Mae said nothing. She just let out a squeal and h
anded a piece of paper to her sister.
Ellie Mae’s eyebrows furrowed and her lip curled up. “What’s got inta you, sis?” she said, unfolding the paper.
“Just read it.”
Ellie Mae read the paper, sounding out each word much like a child pronouncing each letter several times to make sure she got it right.
“Certified C… Ca… Cashier’s Check…” Her voice trailed off. She returned Daisy Mae’s wide-eyed stare. “Ho-lee sheeee-ittt!”
As the Mercedes Benz AMG G65 SUV squealed back onto the highway, the crotchety old gas station couple could hear shouts of YEEEEEEHAWWWWW all the way until the car cleared the horizon.
41
Ocean Blue
Troy Clint Bodean closed and locked the door to The Turtle House for the last time. He slid the key into a drop box and tipped his hat to the old place. It wasn’t his home for very long, but it had earned a special place in his heart.
He clomped down to the red and white Chevy S10 pickup truck in the carport and slung his army duffle bag into the passenger’s seat. He slid the key into the steering column and stopped.
He had no idea where he was going. Maybe farther south. Florida, or something like that. He hadn’t been to Florida.
With three cranks, the S10 finally sputtered to life. He turned the radio on and punched the dial until he found something suitable by the Eagles.
As he crossed the causeway over to the mainland, his phone chirped to life. He didn’t recognize the number, so he let it go to voicemail. It took almost five minutes for the caller to finish the message and the notification to hit the screen.
“Jiminy Cricket,” Troy said aloud, punching in his PIN to play back the message.
“Troy Clint Bodean,” the caller started, “I hope this is you. It’s R.B.”
Troy almost dropped the phone.
R.B.
Ryan Bodean.
The Troy Bodean Tropical Thriller Series Boxset Page 21