As he tried desperately to look nonchalant, peering sideways so as not to look directly at her, he noticed she was waving. He thought maybe she was also calling to him, but the sound of the ocean muffled her voice.
When he heard it more clearly, he turned to face her. She was walking toward him, her teeth showing brightly in a smile. She was still waving. And like a lightning bolt, it hit him.
“Holy dangit,” he muttered to himself.
She was now just a few yards away and he could make out what she was saying.
“As I live and breathe,” she said, still smiling, “if it isn’t Troy Bodean.”
Damn you, Debby, he thought as she walked up to him.
It was Debby “Gidget” Robinson, the friendly—yet married—stripper from The Peppermint Hippo. At the time, he’d thought she’d ruined his perfect little life spinning records for dancers at the strip club by making him believe she’d fallen for him, but a Mafioso husband and a couple of Italian goons later, he’d left Vegas. And that turned out to be the spark to get him off his ass and do something with his life. Whether or not he’d been successful was another story.
“Hello, Debby,” he said and tipped his hat to her. “How’s Teddy?”
Teddy was the husband that had caught Troy in the buff, wrapped only in a towel in an expensive condo at the MGM with Debby. He saw a fleeting look of sadness cross her face.
“He’s dead.”
“Oh, dang.” Troy suddenly felt guilty. “Sorry, I didn’t—”
“Don’t be,” she interrupted. “He was gunned down by some other family years ago.”
Troy knew what she meant by family. It was likely a hit had been put out on Teddy by a rival Mafia group that felt he was impinging on their territory. She took her sunglasses off and put her hand over her eyes to shade them from the sun.
“You look good, Troy.” She smiled again.
“Thanks.”
She looked good too ... but she looked older. Lines around her face showed more age than she had lived, evidence of a rougher life shown in the heavy darkness under her eyes. And the deep brown of her eyes was faded and ... empty. She looked like, well ... a Stepford Wife.
He glanced down at her hand and saw the huge diamond wedding ring. She must’ve noticed his look and subconsciously wrung her hands together.
“Yeah,” she said through her teeth, “I remarried a few years after Teddy.”
“That’s good,” Troy said, seeing her less than jubilant response, “I guess?”
She put her sunglasses on ... another subconscious move to hide her true feelings, he thought. She nodded.
“Mmhmm,” she hummed, “it’s been good. How about you?”
That was an odd way to talk about someone you’d promised to spend the rest of your life with, but he shook it off. “Nah,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, “never found the right girl.”
She smiled, turning one corner of her mouth up slightly, but said nothing.
“And you guys are vacationing here?” he asked, nodding to the massive house.
“Oh, that?” She glanced up at the porch. “It’s my husband, Victor’s, house. I’ve never been here before.”
Another really strange thing to say. Her husband’s house? And she’d never been there? He waited, but she didn’t add anything to the explanation and a long pause indicated that the conversation wasn’t going anywhere.
“Okay, well, it’s good to see you.” Troy reached out a hand.
She took it. “It’s great to see you too.”
“Maybe we can catch up sometime over a—”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she interrupted him, “I think we’re leaving this week and Victor ... ”
She let it hang for a second.
“Well, ya know ... jealous husbands are my thing.” She smiled in a not-too-pleasant way.
“Yeah,” Troy said, completely baffled at this strange meeting, “I suppose so.”
As they stood in awkward silence, Troy was happy a voice broke through the sound of the waves. A high-pitched call drifted down from the porch of the beach house. “Meesus Debbyyyy.”
A short round woman in a light blue dress with a white apron was looking toward them. Troy thought it must be the housekeeper standing on the deck waving.
“I guess I should be going,” Debby said and waved back at the maid.
“Okay, well ... ” Troy was at a loss for words, “have a good life.”
“Same to you, Troy.”
He watched her take a few steps away, and said, “Debby, wait.”
She turned around and looked back at him.
“Did you see anyone ... did you see a girl ... ” He struggled with how to ask if she’d seen Karah. “Did you notice if anyone was home next door?”
She shook her head no and shrugged her shoulders. “New girlfriend?”
“Ha,” he blurted with a short laugh, “No, um ... just checking on a friend. I’m a little worried about her. She’s been gone too long.”
“Haven’t we all, Troy?” she said, smiling ruefully.
“Yeah, I suppose so.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Okay, so if you ... well, if you need anything, I’m just right over there. The Turtle Nest House. He motioned down the beach toward his house. “Look it up, call me if you ... ” he stopped unsure what to say.
“Sure thing,” she said and turned away, still smiling.
And just like that, Hurricane Debby had blown her gale force winds into his life yet again.
Troy watched her walk up the beach toward her husband’s house and caught sight of the police cruiser as it pulled into his driveway.
That would be Officer Chesney. He slogged through the loose sand back toward his house, his knee aching again. He decided that when this was all over, he was gonna get that battery fixed in his Chevy pickup and leave Pawleys Island in his rearview mirror.
An old Skynyrd song about the Breeze drifted into his mind.
30
Sharpie Scribbled Initials
The sliding glass door on the back of his house screeched open. Laura was sitting on the futon and a police officer was standing across from her. He was pacing back and forth quickly. They both looked over at him when he walked in.
“So?” Laura jumped up. “Was she there? Is she okay? What’s going on?”
Troy was still in a little shock at bumping into Debby and realized he’d never actually made it to Laura’s house to see if Karah was there.
“Yeah, um, I never made it over there.”
“What?!” Laura raised her hands, palms to the sky. “Where in the hell have you been if you weren’t over there?”
“I was, well,” he stammered, “I bumped into an old friend and—”
“Troy!” Laura shook her hands. “This is no time to reminisce with old pals! My cousin is in danger.”
“Okay, you two,” Chesney butted in, “let’s just ramp it down a second. I have backup on the way.”
Laura looked at him. “But she’s in trouble!”
He held up his left hand and his right hand subconsciously drifted over to rest on his gun.
“I’m going over right now. Both of you need to stay here. Go nowhere else. The other officers will join you here.”
“I’m going with you.” Troy wondered if his knee could take another jog back to the house.
“Nope,” Chesney said and motioned to Laura. “What I really need is for both of you to stay out of this now. And Troy, I need you to stay with her. I’ll explain later, but it’s likely that these people aren’t after Karah. It’s Laura they really want.”
“Huh?” Troy tipped the cowboy hat back on his forehead.
“Wait ... what?” Laura chimed in.
Chesney walked toward the street-side door and opened it. Backing out and down, he pointed at the sliding door.
“Lock that,” he said, “and lock this one behind me. Sit tight. I’ll check next door and find Karah. But you two are going to stay here.”
He closed the door and Troy turned the bolt to lock it. He then crossed the floor to the sliding door and clicked the lock. He grabbed a stick that was propped up behind the drape by the door and slid it into the track of the sliding door. An ancient—if not tried and true—method for ensuring that the door could not be moved.
“Why would they be after me?” Laura was in a daze.
“Darlin’, I got no clue,” Troy said and pulled the drape closed over the sliding door, “but let’s just wait on Ches. He’ll get her back safe.”
The phone in Laura’s hand began tinkling a pop song. She looked down at it. “Shit.” She pointed the screen toward Troy, who shrugged. “It’s Karah’s dad.”
Troy nodded. “Answer it. Tell him what’s going on. Tell him the cops are here and that we’re going to have Karah back in a few minutes.”
She answered it and stood. Troy pulled the drape back a crack and peered toward the house next door. He couldn’t see anything. Laura was relaying the events of the past few hours, her tears forming again.
Her voice faded into the background as Troy began to go over all that had happened recently in his head. None of it made any sense. It was a bizarre puzzle with pieces that didn’t seem to fit together. There was some crazy dude from the bar following the girls and maybe kidnapping Karah, but he may actually be after Laura, whose dad, Rick Hairre—a politician from up in Murrell’s Inlet—was brutally murdered just a few days ago. And women from all over Troy’s past were seemingly swarming into South Carolina; first Ellie Mae and Daisy Mae Gallup, and now Debby “Gidget” Robinson—or whatever her not-so-blissful married name was now—had come to the island with her husband, Victor. Troy shook his head. What in the Sam Hill is goin’ on around here?
“Okay, Uncle Roger,” Laura was saying into the phone, “I’ll see you in a few hours.” She clicked the phone closed and sighed. “They’re on the way.”
Troy nodded, his head swimming with all the wackiness of the past day. He tipped the straw cowboy hat back on his head. Laura was looking at him ... no, she was staring at him. Her mouth was hanging open slightly and she was blinking rapidly.
“Your hat,” she mumbled, and raised a hand to point at it. “I just realized ... it’s ... it’s exactly like the one I bought for my dad when I was little. He wore it everywhere ... I can’t believe I just noticed.”
Troy felt a shiver run up his spine.
“Where did you get yours?” she asked.
“I ... um—” he started to answer, but thankfully was interrupted by the door opening.
Chesney walked in.
“There’s no one over there.” He held out his hands.
“Oh no,” muttered Laura, and then sobbed.
“The door was wide open, but no one was inside. It appears there was some kind of struggle in the kitchen. There’s some blood smeared on the floor and on the door to the carport.”
“That’s from the dude,” Laura said and wiped tears from her eyes. “He looked like he was bleeding all over.”
“You saw him?”
“Yes, when I got home, he was waiting for me.” Laura recounted the events. “I never saw Karah though.”
“He was probably there to get you, and Karah just happened to be in the way.” Chesney chewed his lip.
Laura looked puzzled, and asked, “What does he want with me?”
“I’m not really clear on exactly what’s happening yet, but I have some evidence that your stepfather may have been involved in some kind of corporate blackmail scheme.”
“What? You mean Rick?”
Chesney nodded. “There was some sort of really big check issued to him ... by a paper mill. I don’t know, maybe a payment to keep quiet about dumping around here, or something like that.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Laura said, her head shaking.
“It seems that maybe they were paying your dad to keep things quiet about the pollution coming out of the mill. And maybe Rick had a change of heart and decided to blow the whistle on it, or something like it.”
Troy raised his eyebrows. “And they’d kill a man over something like that?”
Chesney shrugged his shoulders. “Well, it could be millions of dollars in fines. Not to mention, millions more to retrofit the mill to eliminate the pollution.”
“Dang,” Troy said, and whistled. “But with Rick gone—sorry, Laura—what in the world would they want with her?”
“That’s the part I can’t really figure out,” Chesney said, and rubbed the back of his neck. “They apparently issued a big payment to Rick—a seven-million-dollar payment—in the form of a cashier’s check. Maybe that was the hush money.”
Laura gasped and Troy raised his eyebrows.
“Yeah,” Chesney agreed, “but, the thing is, it was never cashed. It never showed up in any account that I could find on Rick.”
He turned to look at Laura. “Unless ... um ... ”
Laura realized what he was asking, “Ha! Right! I just bounced a check two days ago. That’s why I got that twenty-five-dollar tip from Rick at the diner, remember?”
“Yeah,” Chesney said, “unless maybe it hadn’t cleared the bank yet?”
Laura started to protest. “Well, I think I’d know if there was a seven million doll—” She froze. “Wait ... I just used my debit card at Starbucks earlier. It shouldn’t have worked. I have literally zero dollars in the bank.”
She pulled out Karah’s cell and clicked a few buttons. Troy thought she must be pulling up her account online. After a few seconds, Laura’s mouth gaped open.
“Oh ... Oh my God.”
She handed the phone to Chesney. He took it and pursed his lips looking at the screen.
“It’s ... I don’t ... I mean ... ” she stammered. “It’s not seven million though.”
“That’s the other thing,” Chesney said and handed the phone back to her. “I also have evidence of a half-a-million-dollar payment to another account that I couldn’t identify—looks like it must’ve been yours—that actually did get deposited.”
Tears again pooled in her eyes; “He must’ve deposited it before he died.”
“Yes,” Chesney said, and spoke carefully, “it looks like that’s the case.”
“So,” Troy interjected, “they want Laura to give the half million back?”
Chesney shook his head. “Unfortunately, that damage is done. It’s traceable and with the evidence I have, I could make the link.”
“Oh,” Troy said.
“The half million is a drop in the bucket,” Chesney added. “The seven million, on the other hand ... they probably want that back ... wherever it is. It’s a check that anyone, anywhere can walk into a bank and cash.”
“But, I don’t have that check,” Laura protested.
“They don’t know that,” Chesney said, looking at her. “They probably think Rick gave it to you for safe-keeping.”
Laura put her head in her hands and a gentle sob escaped her mouth.
“Given the state that your stepfather was in when I found him,” Chesney added gently, “I’d say they were trying to get him to tell them where the check was ... and I’m guessing they never found it. That led them to you.”
Troy exhaled through his teeth. “And I’m betting they think Laura knows all about the deal ... so they need her out of the way too.”
“That’s exactly what they want,” Chesney said. “They need Laura to go away to tie up the loose ends.”
“Dangit,” Troy said, “that’s a tight spot.”
“All of this goes back to the paper mill, and I’ve got a call in to one of my buddies at the FBI.” Chesney hiked his thumb in the direction of the next house. “He’ll know what to do about Victor.”
“Who’s Victor?” Laura looked confused.
Troy was in shock. “Victor? As in, Debby’s husband, Victor?”
“Who the hell is Debby?” Laura was even more baffled.
“Victor Böhring is the CEO of Consolidate
Paper Mills,” Chesney said.
“Debby must be married to Victor,” Troy added.
“Why does that name sound so familiar?” Laura asked.
“The credit card,” Chesney said, “from Drunken Jack’s. Remember?”
“Oh, shit ... ” she said, eyes opening wide, “the two dudes who had his card must’ve been the ones he sent after me.”
“Sounds that way, yes.” Chesney sighed and turned to Troy. “And you know his wife?”
“Ha, well, ya see,” he sputtered, “that’s a story from another lifetime of mine, but if it’s the same Debby, yes, I do know her.”
“How does she figure into all of this?” Laura asked.
“Not sure,” Chesney said, shrugging. “She may not know anything about it.”
“I got the distinct feeling that she and Victor aren’t very lovey-dovey,” Troy said. “I bumped into her on the beach and there didn’t seem to be any excitement about being down here with her husband.”
“So, Victor is here?” Chesney asked.
“I reckon he is,” Troy said.
Chesney’s cell phone buzzed. He answered it. “Okay, yup, got it.” He clicked the phone shut and turned to Troy and Laura. “Cavalry’s here. I’ve got two uniforms downstairs. They’ll stay with you until we figure out what our next move is.” He turned the screen toward them. “And I’ve got a missed call from John, my buddy at the FBI. Give me a few minutes to talk to him and then we’ll figure out what to do.”
A gentle, single knock came at the door and Chesney let the two police officers in. They had different uniforms on and appeared to be from the Litchfield P.D. Chesney exchanged a few words with them, and they nodded first toward Laura and then to Troy. They moved toward the front of the house and peered out the windows, apparently on watch.
“Back in five,” Chesney said as he walked out the door and closed it behind him.
Troy slumped down on the couch beside Laura. He tipped his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair. The hat was upside down in his lap and the inside band was showing. In small, sharpie scribbled letters—that he had never noticed before—were the initials R.H.
The Complete Troy Bodean Tropical Thriller Collection Page 24