“Fair enough,” he said. “What time should I head over? Oh, and where do you live?”
“Let’s call it seven o’clock. I’ll text you the address.”
“Roger that.”
She hung up and tucked the phone back into the armband carrier on her bicep. She bounded up to the pier and ran full speed to the end and grabbed the rail. Looking out at the ocean she felt alive. It was past time that she had a man come calling. Riley’s father had been the last and what a humongous douche he’d turned out to be. Spent all his time playing video games and quit every decent job he ever had. It had been like living with a frat boy from college. When they finally began the divorce proceedings, all he’d demanded was that the PlayStation went with him. Ugh, super douche, she thought. She figured Riley’s obsession with all things gaming had been genetically passed down to her from him. She wished she could convince her daughter that she was a beautiful young woman now and there was so much to do outside the weird world of…she paused, not able to remember what she’d called the virtual world she played in.
She pulled her phone out and tapped a message to her.
-What are you up to hun?
The reply came lightning fast…faster than she ever remembered Riley answering.
-Cleaning. You almost done running?
Meira almost dropped her phone in shock.
-About halfway. Um…cleaning?
-Yeah, just vacuumed. Gonna dust next.
Meira didn’t even bother to suggest that maybe she should’ve dusted first. A date with Troy and now her daughter had spontaneously decided to clean house. She felt like she should pinch herself to be sure she wasn’t dreaming.
-So, I have a guest coming for dinner. Do we have ground beef?
A few seconds passed.
-Yup. 2 pounds. Who?
-A client.
Meira typed the white lie in and then added.
-I’m interviewing him about the case.
-Cool. I’ll be upstairs playing my game.
She tapped in several replies about how she wanted Riley to stay downstairs and meet him, but it was too soon for that. She deleted them all and decided to keep it simple.
-Ok. Put the ground beef in the fridge for me. I’ll be home soon. Love you.
-Will do. Love U 2
Meira shook her head in disbelief as she started jogging again. The afternoon sun was starting to sink and the sky was taking on the colors of what looked to be an incredible sunset forming. She couldn’t help but smile as she ran and wondered if the passing cars thought she was crazy.
Troy Bodean felt just a little crazy as he studied himself in the tiny mirror in his cabin. The boat rocked gently and the cool evening air began to settle around him. He’d spent the better part of last night trying on all of his best T-shirts and then flung them all back into the drawer in favor of his best linen button down. He put on his one pair of shorts that weren’t khaki and thought the navy looked good with his eyes.
“Now, that’s good second date material right there,” he grinned as he spoke to the mirror.
His phone pinged and he grinned.
“She just can’t wait, can she?”
He looked at the message, expecting to see something from Meira. Instead, it was a long, rambling, un-punctuated text from Trixie Cameron.
-I don’t know who you think you are but you done messed up my toilet so bad I can’t stay here no more I don’t think you understand how bad my place stinks after what you done in there I hope you are happy with yourself you son of a bitch I had to get a damn plumber over here to get that toilet out and get rid of it now I have to go in the neighbor’s place I’ll be bringing you a bill to the store so you better get your damn wallet out and pay for it when I see you.
“Dang,” Troy muttered as he read the message.
He started to reply and then thought better of it.
A new message popped up and he was relieved it wasn’t from Trixie, until he saw that it was from Barry.
-Dude. I’m sick. You gotta cover my shift tonight at the store.
-Can’t. Busy.
-You owe me one for the other night.
Dangit.
-What time?
-Just until 9
-Okay. I’m there.
-Cool.
Troy took off his linen shirt and navy shorts and folded them neatly on his bed. He pulled out his work T-shirt and khaki shorts and pulled them on. After that, he dialed Meira – she didn’t answer. He left her a voicemail explaining that he had to run into work and that he’d be by her place after if that was okay. He hung up and hopped into his dingy to row to shore after carefully tucking his second-date clothes into a grocery bag and tying them tight to keep them dry.
He cursed Barry’s name all the way to the beach and even some more while he tied up his rowboat. The saving grace was the incredible sunset that started flaming across the sky. He found himself thinking about Meira and hoping the time would pass quickly so he could see her soon. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time. It felt dang good.
Riley had just finished the last of the dishes when her mom finally strolled through the door. She was covered in sweat as usual. She ran to the fridge and grabbed a Gatorade.
“Here ya go, mom. Don’t want to get those cramps like last time.”
Her mother stood in the doorway, dripping sweat, mouth gaping. She was turning her head from side to side and staring in amazement. Riley knew it was because the house looked better than it had in months. She felt proud that her mom was so pleased.
“Riley, I can’t believe this. The house looks—.”
“Amazing. I know.” She interrupted her mom and then added, “I hope you don’t mind, but I put the burgers in some Worcestershire and sprinkled on some salt and pepper. They should be marinated pretty well by the time your client gets here.”
“I…I um…Riley…thank you so much.”
“No prob.”
Meira unscrewed the cap and took a long drink of the Gatorade and stepped into the house.
“Uh, mom,” Riley stopped her and pointed to her dirty running shoes. “In the basket please.”
Her mom smiled and shook her head.
“Of course, dear.”
She took off the shoes and tossed them into a basket by the front door.
“And if you’ll toss your clothes into the hamper, I’ll run a load real quick before I go up.”
“Okay, who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” Meira laughed.
“I just thought it would be nice if I helped out,” Riley started. “And that way I could stay up late and play my game tonight?”
“Ahhhh,” Meira said. “I get it now. Hmmm…midnight.”
“Two o’clock?”
“One-thirty.”
“Cool. Thanks, mom.”
Riley ran to her mom and pecked her on the cheek.
“Eww, you’re sweaty. Gross!”
Her mother laughed and then looked at her watch.
“Oh, gosh,” she said. “I’d better get in the shower.”
“What time is your client coming?”
“Seven, I think…”
She pulled her phone out and looked at it. Riley saw a quick flash of what might’ve been disappointment run over her mother’s face.
“Scratch that. Looks like it’ll be more like nine.”
“That’s okay. That will give us time to relax and talk.”
“Again…what kind of alien has taken over the body of my daughter?”
Riley grinned. “Two o’clock?”
Her mother sighed. “Okay, okay. Two o’clock. Now, let me get a shower and I’ll fix you something to eat.”
“Nah, I’m good. I already had those fish sticks and some cole slaw. Let me know when you’re out of the shower.”
“Okay, hun. Thanks for cleaning up.”
“You’re welcome.”
Riley was ecstatic that this whole scene was playing out like this. Her mother was buying it h
ook, line, and sinker. She’d have a client over late and she would naturally assume that Riley was playing her game. But she’d really be out with Barry. She was excited and nervous and the thrill felt fantastic. She ran upstairs to practice putting on her concealer.
“Thanks, Mom,” she called as she closed her door.
12
Strangers In The Night
Troy washed his hands under the hottest water he could stand trying to get the smell of crab, lobster, shrimp, mussels, and flounder off them. He took the seafood splashed clothing off and tucked it into a grocery bag and tied it up. He put the linen shirt and navy shorts back on and walked out to the front of the store. A new girl they’d hired was sitting at the cash register looking exceptionally bored. She was staring at her phone and smacking a piece of gum.
“Later, Audrey,” Troy touched the brim of his cowboy hat.
She either didn’t hear him or was ignoring him. He didn’t care much about which one it was. The skip in his step as he walked out the front door of the Austin Fish Company was something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He checked his phone and saw that it was seventeen past nine. Ouch, he thought, much later than I had planned. He fired off a quick text message to Meira.
-Sorry so late. Still ok to come over?
-Ya. Come on. Riley’s in bed, so be quiet coming in.
-10-4
He tucked his phone into his pocket. He flung the bag of smelly clothes into the bed of the borrowed pickup truck and slid into the driver’s seat. He was always amazed at how timely the music seemed to be in his life…as if someone were scripting it. At this particular moment, the radio decided to start playing Sam and Dave’s “Hold On, I’m Comin’.” He hummed along and found himself tapping the steering wheel in time with the upbeat tune.
Within minutes, he found himself at the front door of a small bungalow. The siding was painted a pale blue and the trim was crisp white. The front porch stretched across the entire front of the house. Swinging in the breeze to his left, suspended between two of the large white columns, was a well-worn hammock. He smiled. This was his kind of place. Above the porch, on the second story were two dormer windows with a soft yellow glow coming from them. As he looked at them, the glow abruptly went out. Riley was probably turning off her light to go to sleep.
The heavy wooden door opened and Meira stuck her head out. Her hair was in that damp, but nearly dry, state from a recent shower. She wore a white, strapless top that showed an obvious tank-top tan line from her running clothes. Her shorts were denim and frayed at the thigh. At the bottom of her long, tan legs, she wore no shoes. She was smiling a crooked smile.
“Hey stranger,” she raised her right hand that had a Corona dangling in it.
It had an orange slice tucked halfway into the lip.
“You got it right. Don’t know why people insist on putting dang limes in it.”
“Yup. I think you might’ve converted me.”
“One time is all it takes. You’ll never go back.”
“Is that right, Mister Bodean?”
“I told you already,” he said taking the beer from her hand. “My friends call me Troy.”
“We’ll see about that.”
She motioned to the other side of the porch where two rocking chairs lazily tilted back and forth in the evening breeze. Between them a small glass-top table held a candle that flickered throwing shadows across the chairs.
“Sit on the porch a while?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
Troy eased down into the first chair and sipped his beer.
“So, you got the skinny on the case from Darla?”
“Yeah, she gave me the big picture, said she’d copy the file for me since I was taking you on as a client.”
“Are you?”
“It doesn’t seem like you need my help. Best I can tell, they’ve eliminated you as a suspect.”
Troy studied her as she spoke. Dang, he thought suddenly realizing he was staring, she’s stunning. He found himself wondering why there weren’t more men in her life. Maybe there were and she wasn’t telling him about that. Nah, probably not. Single mom, workaholic, all the signs of a bachelorette.
“But I would like to find out what happened to those girls. I have a daughter who’s almost their age and I don’t like to think that there’s a killer on the loose around here. I mean, it’s Nags Head for crying out loud. Stuff like this isn’t supposed to happen here.”
Troy listened for a minute and then asked, “so what do the police make of the big knife?”
She scrunched her nose. “What big knife?”
“The one that Jack—.”
He stopped mid-sentence. In the scenario he and Jamaica Jack had worked out, he wasn’t supposed to know about the knife. But there was something about Meira that he trusted. He figured he needed a friend, and she seemed like a good one. Besides that, it was her job to figure out things like this and to do a good job of it, she’d need all the info.
“Me ‘n Jack went out fishin’ yesterday. Caught a pretty big Mako by accident and as we tried to tag him and get the hook out, the poor thing started bleedin’ something fierce.”
Meira crinkled her nose again and Troy couldn’t help but think it was an incredibly cute mannerism.
“Anyhow, he didn’t make it, so we hauled him in and went to clean him.”
Troy paused for a second. He held up his empty beer bottle.
“You got another?”
“Yeah, sure,” Meira said as she stood.
She took his bottle and opened the screen door. It squawked as it opened and Troy made a mental note to shoot it up with some WD-40.
“I’m all ears,” she called through the screen.
“Well, like I said, we were cleaning him and out comes this big, dang knife. Like some kind a Sumo sword or somethin’.”
He waited. She said nothing, but eventually poked back out on the porch.
“Sumo sword?”
“Yup. Hard to describe, but picture a big, thick sword. And the sucker was sharp. Sliced my thumb with barely a touch.”
“The file didn’t say anything about it. When did you call it in?”
Troy took a sip of the beer and inhaled. Here goes nothin’, he thought.
“About that…I didn’t call it in.”
Her face went blank.
“Why not?” she finally asked.
“Well, we figured this thing could be the murder weapon used on them two girls. I know what you’re thinkin’. Unlikely, yes. But now the dang thing has my blood on it and probably the girl’s too. So, Jack said he’d take it and clean it up real good. Then he’d report it to the cops and let ‘em do with it as they wanted.”
“Okay.”
Troy wondered if he’d blundered. Her entire mood had changed.
“I’m not sure why Jack wouldn’t have taken it in.”
She sighed. “Troy, you should’ve taken it in and explained exactly what happened. In the ridiculously random event that this sword is the murder weapon, you now look like you were trying to cover it up.”
“Yeah.” He took another swig of his beer. The orange tang tasted sweet and sour. “I know. It seemed like a good plan at the time.”
She thought about it for a second. “So, where is the sword now?”
Troy shook his head. “I guess Jack’s still got it. Maybe he just hasn’t taken it to the cops yet.”
“Maybe.”
“But, like you said…it probably ain’t the murder weapon anyway.”
“Probably not.”
Meira was deep in thought. She took another long breath and then out of nowhere she changed the subject.
“They did have notes on Barry, the kid you work with from the store.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Pretty much ruled him out too. The cops don’t think he’s smart enough to have pulled this off and leave literally no trace at the scene of the crime.”
“He’s not the sharpest tool in
the shed.”
She grinned and Troy felt the mood lighten a bit.
“But I think it would be wise to tell me and the police about anything new that comes up from now on. Deal?”
She held up her bottle. Troy clinked his against it.
“Deal.”
“Is yours empty again? Mister Bodean, I do believe you’re trying to get me drunk.”
“I told you, my friends call me Troy.”
“Well, Troy,” she winked at him. “Shall I get you another?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Troy watched her lithe runner’s body heading in for the next beer and tried to come up with a good way to extend their time together. When she walked back out onto the porch, he’d rehearsed his next line to near perfection.
“Ya know, sunrise is really somethin’ if you watch it from my boat.”
“Oh?”
“Yup.”
“I’d like to see that sometime.”
“Well, should I call you in the mornin’, or nudge you?”
She laughed and Troy knew his hook was set. He spent the rest of the evening trying hard not to stare…and mostly failed.
Riley could hear the sound of her mom giggling on the porch.
“Oh…my…gosh,” she muttered to herself. “She’s drunk.”
Why won’t they go inside? Ugh, but if they went inside, that probably meant they were going to—. She made the thought go away. She leaned against the screen in her window and could tell their voices were getting softer and more personal sounding. It won’t be long now until they would go in. Go Mom, she thought and feigned a gag.
She opened her phone and checked for any new messages. Nothing. She thought Barry had probably given up on her. She tapped out a note to him.
-Won’t be long now. Can’t sneak out. Mom’s on the porch.
He didn’t answer. Yup, she thought, he’s moved on to the next girl on his list. But then the message came that sent a thrill up her back.
-I’ll be waiting, princess.
Princess. He called me princess. She leaned against the screen and listened. She couldn’t hear anything. Sweet, they finally went inside. The time had come. It was the first time Riley had ever done anything so bold in her life. If her mom found out…she’d be dead.
Skull Wave (A Troy Bodean Tropical Thriller Book 5) Page 8