Troy arched an eyebrow. “You want me to do what?”
“It’s probably a license plate or a hubcap or something. See if you can get it outta there.”
He took a deep breath. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he slid his left hand into the slit Jack was holding open.
“Dangit!” Troy yelped and jerked his hand back.
His thumb was cut and oozed fresh blood.
“What the hell?” Jack pulled the slip open wider.
Troy peered into the hole. He eased his hand in and carefully pulled on something. Inch by inch, a sword came out of the shark, blade first.
“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” Jack wheezed. “I ain’t never seen nothin’ like that before.”
Troy was lost in thought. Something echoed in the back of his mind about the kind of blade Sam DeFur, Chief of the Nags Head Police Department, had speculated might’ve been used to kill Dana and Kimberly. Troy had a strong hunch he was looking at the sword that had done it.
“Dangit, Jack. It’s the knife.”
“That ain’t no knife, brother. That’s a Chinese sword of some kind. Razor sharp too.”
Troy looked at the cut on his hand.
“No, I mean, it’s the knife that killed those two girls.”
“You can’t know that for sure.”
“Think about it, Jack. They had their heads cut off and put into the traps on my boat. The beds were full of blood, but with no bodies. I think they were dumped into the water…probably along with this sword here. And our Mako smelled the blood and swallowed the dang thing.”
For a second, neither man said anything. Jack slapped his hands together.
“Okay, then. Here’s what we’ll do.” He reached down and carefully picked up the sword. “I’m gonna clean this bad boy up. Get your fingerprints and blood off it and then I’ll deliver it to the police.”
“But how will you say you found it?”
“Same story of catchin’ the shark, only you were never here.”
“But—.”
“I said,” Jack interrupted him and waggled a finger. “You were never here. If this so happens to be the murder weapon, you don’t want nothin’ to do with it. You don’t wanna be around it. You don’t wanna touch it. Hell, stop lookin’ at it already.”
Troy took in a long, slow breath. “You’ll take it to the cops?”
Jack nodded. There was something strange in his eyes, but Troy couldn’t place what it was. It was like the man had a secret that he almost couldn’t keep. But he did have a point. It would probably be better if the discovery of the sword had nothing to do with Troy.
“Okay. Sounds like a plan.”
A few raindrops spattered on the pier and thunder rumbled around them.
“We better get you back to your boat.”
Troy nodded and shook off the feeling that things were about to get out of control.
10
Deep Cuts
“Your full name?” Sam DeFur asked staring into the young man’s eyes seated across from him.
“Barry Olsen Barron”
The kid was tall, scrawny, and pale. Red freckles dotted his face and shocking orange hair swirled on top of his head. His left leg bounced up and down constantly, but that wasn’t a sign of any wrongdoing. Some folks just got nervous when they talked to the police. But something else troubled Sam.
“And you worked at the…” he looked down at his yellow pad of notes, “Austin Fish Company?”
“Yes, sir. Still do.”
“And you were friends with Dana and Kimberly?”
“I wouldn’t exactly say we were friends.”
“But you knew them pretty well.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“And from what we can tell by your punch card, you were working with them on the night they were murdered?”
“Uh, I dunno. What day was that?”
“It was on Thursday last week. You don’t remember that?”
“I dunno. The days just kinda run together now.”
“Uh huh.”
Sam let the pause in the conversation linger. Sometimes people felt the need to fill the silence and that was where he found details that might otherwise not come up. Barry’s eyes flitted around the room and he tapped both hands on the arms of the chair.
It was a special chair. Sam had spent a lot of time sitting in chairs in office supply stores. He wanted one that seemed okay at first, but the longer you sat in it, the more uncomfortable it became. He’d settled on one that had wooden arms that were only slightly too narrow to rest your arms on them for more than a few seconds at a time. It had a cushion of vinyl that was about an inch thick. In the first few minutes, it was reasonable, but after that, it flattened to put your butt straight on the hard wood seat. The genius of it all though, was the back. He’d chosen the chair immediately when he realized that the cushion-less back was just low enough that leaning back on it did not support your spine. It was perfect. From the looks of things, Barry was way past the comfortable stage.
“Yeah, I guess I worked with them that night before the party.”
“Party?”
“Uh huh, the bitches—I mean, the girls hung out after work with Troy. Eatin’ shrimp they screwed up on purpose. They used to do that all the time.”
“Shrimp they screwed up?”
“Yeah, they used the wrong seasoning, so we couldn’t sell it to the customer. Instead of trashing it, the owner sells it to us for cost. But I never got to buy any. They’d always screw it up and offer to buy it immediately. All a big scam.”
“I see.” Sam scribbled a note on his pad. “And this…made you mad? Pissed ya off, eh?”
“Oh, well, I mean, ya know,” Barry stammered. “Not like real mad. Just annoyed.”
“Uh huh.”
More empty silence. He found that sometimes the scratching of his pencil on the pad was enough to break most people. What was he writing? What does it mean that he’s not talking? Am I going to jail? All good questions for opening up their mouths.
“So, uh, can I go now?”
“You have somewhere to be, Mista Barron?”
“Work.”
“At Austin’s?”
“Nah. I’m at the pier today.”
“The pier?”
“Yeah. I hang out down at Jennette's Pier. Lots of people bringin’ fish in that they don’t wanna clean. I can usually clean ‘em in a few seconds. Sometimes they pay me, sometimes they just give me the extra meat.”
“Uh huh. And that’s where all the cuts come from on your hands?”
Barry looked at his hands and his expression froze. It was an odd look and Sam thought he saw a flash of guilt pass over the young man’s face…but only briefly.
“Yeah.”
“I suppose you won’t mind if we just take a quick swab? Get your DNA profile. Ya know, to exclude you from the scene.”
For a second, Sam thought the kid was going to take off running. He became noticeably paler and trembled slightly. He knew something…but what?”
“Sure. No problem.” He held out his hands.
Sam peeled open the long swab and dabbed it liberally all over the wounds on Barry’s hands. The tip became brown with blood. He stuffed it in a plastic bag, sealed it, and made a note on the outside with a Sharpie.
“You should get those looked at, young man.”
“Nah, I get ‘em all the time.”
“I hope you wear gloves when you do your thing,” Sam said studying the boy’s reaction to this.
Barry opened his mouth, then closed it. Then he nodded and stood up. Sam could tell by his stretching that the chair had indeed become nearly unbearable to sit it.
“I’ll be in touch.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good luck with the cuttin’ today.”
Barry walked out of his office. He pushed a button on his phone.
“Hey, Darla?”
“Ya, chief?”
“Got a sample for
you.”
“Be right in.”
He took a deep breath and clicked the button again.
“And Darla, have Officer Duffy follow that boy. Discreetly.”
“You bet, chief.”
For one of the only times in his life, Barry was excited to get to the pier. The meeting down at the police station was bullshit in his mind and he was glad to be through with it. Stupid chief didn’t suspect anything. He did his work at the pier that day with a borrowed knife from the store. It was dull as hell, but he was good at what he did. He cleared forty-seven bucks and scored five nice filets. Not a bad days work, but by the end of it, he was exhausted, sweaty, and disgusting. He thought about buying a six-pack to take home, they never carded him at the bait shop. A few Buds and a little time on Bladehammer tonight would have him right back to—
His thoughts about the game suddenly turned to Riley. Maybe she would be online. He felt the itching sensation start burning his arms. He needed her. Not for sex or companionship…no, she would be his next. His phone pinged.
YOUR PACKAGE HAS BEEN DELIVERED.
“Hot damn!” he called out startling a few nearby fishermen.
Everything was falling into place. He had the girl picked out. He had his blade. He had his plan. Tryon the Tyrannical was about to kill again.
11
Butterflies
Riley Carr tapped a few buttons and logged on. She hadn’t planned on playing the game today, but Barry was insistent. He texted her every few minutes until she’d relented. Her mom was out for another jog, which she thought was stupid considering the fact that she’d just had those really bad cramps a few days ago. Even so, her mother had told her to be sure that her phone was on, just in case she had another running incident. And if she left the house, she’d be grounded forever and lose her phone and her laptop for a year.
“Blah, blah, blah, mom,” Riley murmured as she adjusted her headset.
She was already bored with the whole fantasy world thing and she had talked him into going online in a different way. Oculus had recently updated their experience by giving users the ability to decorate their home screen or starting room to reflect their personality. They also introduced the ability to invite other users into their room. She sent an invite to Barry. At first, he’d refused, demanding to meet her as Tyron, his orc personality from Bladehammer.
“Nope. You come here, or I’m logging off.”
He’d grumbled about it, but finally, he’d given in. This made Riley feel good, as she’d successfully wooed her first boy into doing what she wanted. She had decorated her Oculus home screen to look like a beach house complete with light blue walls above board and batten wood paneling. Pictures of her mom and her at the beach hung on every wall and sat on every table. The furniture was all whitewashed and rough-hewn. The sofa was more like a futon with a royal blue cushion. Seashell pillows were strewn about lazily and conch shells were stacked in a massive bowl on the coffee table. All of this sat on a bleached wood floor that actually creaked when you walked on it. It was beautiful and Riley loved coming here.
“This sucks,” Barry croaked when he entered.
His avatar was a rough digital representation of what he looked like in real life, red-headed, freckled, a little pale, and tall. Even though his Orc persona was a fake, it was still a little intimidating to interact with him that way. She much preferred this.
“You suck,” she grinned as she said it.
For a second he just stood there looking around, taking in all of her decorating. The odd thing about it was that there weren’t any windows. It had the bright, airy look of a room in a beach house that could have easily been down in someone’s basement. After a minute, his gaze settled on her avatar – again a loose representation of what she really looked like.
“Okay, it’s not so bad if you’re here.”
She smiled and felt her cheeks flush in real life. Her avatar’s cheeks matched it as best they could.
“You want to sit?”
“Sure.”
He plopped down on the futon and kicked up his feet on the coffee table. They flickered through the bowl of conch shells and he slid them over so they wouldn’t interfere with the image.
“Something to drink?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.”
“Do you drink beer?”
“Haha, yeah. How ‘bout you?”
“No.”
“You should try one.”
Riley made a hand motion and two frosty glasses appeared on the coffee table. He grabbed one and took a long sip.
“Eh, not bad, but they’re much better in real life. You get the buzz.”
Riley shrugged and sat down on the far end of the futon. She had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. She picked up the other glass and took a sip. She tried hard not to let her face twist into a grimace, but the beer tasted awful. She whisked it away and made a glass of water appear. He laughed and chugged the rest of his in one gulp. Setting the glass on the table, he shuffled closer to her on the futon and put his virtual arm around her.
In real life, she couldn’t feel it, but it was amazing how much the brain filled in the sensations of touch, smell, and sound to match what her eyes saw. She trembled under his touch, but he likely didn’t feel it. Suddenly, he grabbed her avatar’s face and jerked it toward him. He pressed his lips against hers…virtually. She smacked him and pulled away, but he just smiled.
“Now, that’s more like it.”
“Stop it right now or I’ll log you out.”
“Hey, hey, hey, now. No need to get all pissy. I know you been wantin’ to kiss me since we got in here. Why else would you invite me in?”
Riley almost clicked the button to send him away, but then she realized she had maybe…just maybe wanted to kiss him. He was a lot older and not exactly good looking, but he seemed to like her. And this was the first time a boy had paid any attention to her. So, she let him stay, but she pushed him away from her on the futon.
“You know I can’t really feel that, right?” his grin was back as he said it.
“Yeah.”
“So, wouldn’t it be more fun to do this in the real world? You can feel it out there…not like in here.”
He motioned around the virtual room with his arm.
“Yeah, but I can’t go out again, my mom’ll kill me.”
“She doesn’t have to know. Does she come in and check on you at night like a little baby?”
“No.”
“Then sneak out after you go to bed. You can come to my place.”
“What about your mom and dad?”
He didn’t say anything for a long moment and for some reason, she felt a little fear trickle into her mind.
“They’re gone. We won’t have to worry about them. C’mon, it’ll be fun and I have some real beer.”
She didn’t give a rat’s ass about the beer, but something about sneaking out and hanging out with a boy gave her a thrill she didn’t quite recognize. She thought about it for a second.
“Maybe.”
“Yeah.” His avatar’s smile broadened further. “It’ll be fun. You’ll be back before she ever knows you’re gone.”
“Okay, okay. But let me get off here and I’ll clean the house up real good…score some bonus points so she won’t think anything’s up.”
“Alright. Text me later when you can get out.”
“I will.”
Riley clicked the button that logged her out of her Oculus room. She bounded up off her bed and for the first time ever, turned on the vacuum cleaner without her mom asking her to. Her heart beat fast and she wondered if this is what a crush was supposed to feel like. She actually started humming as she went about cleaning their small house.
Meira Carr felt butterflies pop up in her stomach when she recognized Troy’s number on her phone. She had just crossed the halfway point in her run and was staring out at the Avalon Pier. She hadn’t planned to run the whole way there, but she felt fantastic and had decid
ed to keep going. A runner’s high had set in and she was going to milk it for all it was worth. She stopped at the next road and tapped her phone to connect.
“Well, well, well,” she said as she smirked. “If it isn’t the mysterious disappearing Troy Bodean.”
“Disappearing?”
“I tried to text you a few times this morning, but you never responded.”
“Oh, I was out on the water with a buddy doing some fishing. You’ll never believe what we caught.”
“Is that right?”
“I’m serious. Might have some bearin’ on the case with the girls. Did Darla show you my file?”
“She did.”
“And?”
“I’m not one-hundred percent sure you’re innocent,” Meira lied. “But I’d need to interview you to be sure.”
“Well, that, ma’am, could easily be arranged.”
She could almost hear him smiling on the other end of the line. More butterflies.
“What time are you thinkin’ to schedule this…interview?”
“Hmm, here’s the thing,” she glanced down at her watch, “I’m halfway out on my run. If I had to guess, I’ll be back in a few hours. Give me a chance to get cleaned up and we can grab a bite and I’ll go over the file with you.”
The line went quiet.
“Troy?”
“Yeah, about grabbin’ a bite. I still ain’t fully recovered from the Thai food yet.”
She laughed and said, “How about something simple at my place? Maybe a burger on the grill?”
“If you say you’ll throw in some home fries, I’m there.”
“Now that’s a bargain, Mister Bodean.”
“Call me Troy. All my friends do.”
“I haven’t quite decided about that yet.”
“ ‘Bout what?”
“If we’re friends or not.”
He chuckled. She imagined his broad smile behind the dark beard. She shooed away more butterflies threatening to fill her stomach.
Skull Wave (A Troy Bodean Tropical Thriller Book 5) Page 7