“And the quads. Just before you got here, I started feeling it in my toes too.”
“You drink enough water?”
“I do.”
“Yeah. Trouble is on a breezy day, you don’t feel yourself losin’ all those fluids. We gotta get some sodium in ya. I know just what to do.”
He jogged around to the driver’s side and jumped up into the truck.
“I suppose I need to get to the hospital,” she said trying to control her breathing.
“Nah,” he shrugged. “You ain’t in shock yet. Coulda been if I hadn’t come and got you. We’ll have you back to normal in a jiffy.”
He eased into traffic and drove a couple of blocks to Cahoons Market and Cottage. She opened her mouth to say something, but he spoke before she could.
“You just hang tight. I’ll be right back.”
He left the car running and ran inside. Afghanistan had taught him a great deal including how to deal with mild sunstroke and dehydration. Nothing out where he was stationed but hot sun and sand and not much to drink that wasn’t infested with bacteria. He walked the aisles scanning the shelves for what he needed. Finally, he found it.
He took it up to the register to pay, but not before grabbing a twelve pack of Coronas.
“Looks like you’ve got an interesting night ahead of you,” the teenaged clerk said as she rung him up.
“Yup.”
He hurried out and found Meira with her head laid back and her eyes closed.
“You doin’ okay?”
“Yeah.” She groaned and opened her eyes slightly. “Beer? How’s that going to help?”
Troy laughed. “That ain’t for you, darlin’. That’s for me later on.”
“Darlin’?”
“Sorry, force of habit.”
She smiled and he saw that she was an attractive young woman. Her eyes were an emerald green color, slightly bloodshot from the dehydration.
“It’s okay. I like the southern gentlemanly charm of it.”
“That’s me, a southern gentleman.”
“Mmhmm. Anyway, what’d you get for me? These cramps are killing me.”
Troy reached into the paper sack with the Cahoons logo sporting a goofy cartoon guy riding a surfboard with two bags of groceries. He pulled a jar of Claussen Pickles out. She was not sure what to make of Troy pulling the pickles out of the container and tossing them out on the ground.
“What the heck?”
“Don’t need the veggies. What you need is in the juice. Hope you like pickles.”
She grimaced and said, “not really.”
“No worries, at this point, you’re body needs it so bad, you’ll think it’s a fine wine.”
“Now that I could go for right about now.”
“Nope. Not until you get those cramps to let loose. After that, we’ll see.”
She took the jar from his hands, pinched her nose, and took a big gulp. Her eyebrows raised and the hint of a smile curved her lips up as she drank.
“Told ya, didn’t I?”
She nodded vigorously as she drained half the juice in one long swig. She gasped as she took the jar from her mouth.
“Oh, my gosh. It’s delicious.”
“Not really. It’s just your body’s way of tellin’ you you’re doin’ right by it.”
“Well, call me impressed, Mr. Bodean.”
“Troy. Nobody calls me Mr. Bodean, ‘cept the IRS.”
She smiled. Her eyes widened suddenly and she grabbed the back of her leg.
“They’re gone. I cannot believe it. The cramps are gone!”
“Yup. It’s magic, ain’t it?”
“There is no chance I would’ve known that pickle juice could cure cramps.”
“I had a pretty smart granddaddy. He taught me almost everything I know. Uncle Sam took care of the rest.”
She took a few more sips of the pickle juice.
“Do I have to drink it all?”
“When it don’t taste good anymore, you’re done.”
“I think I’m there.”
He took the jar from her, screwed on the lid, and tucked it under the driver’s seat. She took a deep breath, undid her ponytail, brushed the sweat from her forehead, and pulled the hair back tight again. Dang, Troy thought, she ain’t good lookin’…she’s beautiful. She apparently read his thoughts and gave him an odd look.
“What is it, Mr. Bode— I mean, Troy?”
“Nothin’ at all. Just thinkin’ you’re a fine lookin’ woman, Mrs. Carr.”
“It’s Miss. I’ve been divorced for more than ten years. He left when my daughter was just a little girl.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, he was a shmuck.”
“Well, that’s good then.”
A moment of silence settled in between them. Troy clicked the radio on and found a classic rock station. He wondered when the hell all his music became classics.
“I guess you’ll need to get home.”
“Yeah.”
“Which way?”
“Turn out of here and go left.”
“Roger that.”
“If you’ll drop me at my place, give me a couple of hours to get cleaned up and check on my soon-to-be-in-big-trouble daughter, we can meet somewhere later and discuss why you called me in the first place. Sound good?”
“Oh, um, yes. That’d be great. I got a short shift at work. I’m off at seven. Pick you up at eight-ish?”
“Perfect. You like Thai food?”
“Not sure if I know that or not.”
“Great. Thai it is. I always like introducing people to how amazing it is.”
He touched the brim of his cowboy hat and turned left.
I think I like where this is goin’.
Troy thought of the Austin Fish Company as a fantastic place to grab fresh seafood for either preparing at home or eating on site. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d plopped himself down on the yellow picnic table underneath the fiberglass great white shark on the roof and chowed down on the finest shrimp this side of Maine. He preferred eating outside to keep the heavy fish smell in the back from affecting the taste of his food. It could be pretty rank back there and he liked the fresh air and ocean breeze anyway. Today however, he didn’t choose to eat anything as Meira had asked him out to dinner later. He wasn’t sure about Thai food, but, eh, why not? Anything was worth a few more minutes with her.
He found himself whistling as he worked and realized he felt better already…the double murder of Kim and Dana nearly pushed to the back of his mind. That was until Trixie Cameron came through the doors of the Austin. She was dressed in black, but not exactly a mourning outfit. It was a black tank top that didn’t quite cover her belly button and black jeans. Her hair was almost as dark as her clothing and Troy wondered if it was dyed. Trixie was Dana’s mother. She’d been sixteen when she had her daughter and she liked to say that folks around town often asked if they were sisters. Troy had been around enough to know that no one around town actually asked that.
She pulled her sunglasses off her face as she entered and walked straight up to Troy. Dangit, he thought, this can’t be good. He braced himself for what could only be a rough confrontation. Trixie walked straight up to him and Troy put his hands up to surrender. He started to say he was really sorry, but before he could open his mouth, she wrapped her arms around him, laid her head on his chest and started sobbing.
“It’s awful, isn’t it, Troy? My poor baby girl, gone too soon.”
Stunned, he patted her back. “Yes, ma’am. It’s a dang shame.”
She lifted her head and looked up into his eyes.
“I know they thought you done it, but I know better, Troy. They told me down at the police station that you wasn’t even close to ‘em when they was killed.”
“That’s right, Trixie. I wasn’t.”
“They told me they’s workin’ on a few leads, but I know they don’t got shit.”
Troy wasn’t sure what to say
to that, so he just kept his mouth shut. After a few minutes, she let go of him, put her hand on his shoulder, and smiled at him.
“You’re so sweet to have been hangin’ out with my Dana. She was so insecure and just needed friends. You and Kim were all she had.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Now, if you don’t mind, I need something from you.”
Troy took a step backward, unsure where this was going.
“Well, now…ummm—.”
“Five pounds of shrimp,” she said and pulled out her wallet.
“Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” Troy felt relief ease into his mind. “What kind do you need?”
“Just gimme the cheap stuff,” she said. “It’s for a memorial I’m hosting tonight at my house.”
“Ah, okay, gotcha.”
“In fact,” she winked at him, “why don’t you drop by for a bit.”
“As much as I’d like to, I—.”
“Nope. I won’t take no for an answer.” She took a pen from a cup on the counter and pulled out a napkin. “I live out at the Decharmarnel RV Park.”
She scribbled the address and her number on the napkin and tucked it into his shirt pocket.
“We’ll be goin’ all night, so just drop by when you can.”
“Okay, but—.”
“Good, it’s settled. See you tonight. And bring the shrimp, won’t you?”
“Sure.”
Troy watched as she pranced out of the store and smacked his forehead.
“Looks like you got a date, Troy.” Fred, the manager on duty, laughed as he said it.
“Not hardly. Least, not with her.”
“Ohhhh,” Fred wiped his hands with a dirty rag. “Do tell.”
“I’ll tell you ‘bout it tomorrow…unless I call in sick…and then you’ll know how it went anyhow.”
“You dawg!”
Troy smiled and headed back to the walk-in cooler. He was sure it smelled worse today than it ever had before…but maybe it was just his imagination. He pulled a couple of big bags of jumbo shrimp out and set about making Trixie’s order. I’ll meet up with Meira for dinner and grab these to drop ‘em off after, he thought, unless… But the more he tried to puzzle a way out of the dead girl’s memorial, he couldn’t think of anything. He thought he might text Barry and ask if he could come in and help out for an hour to help him put the big order together. He didn’t get an answer.
Crap, no way out of this little predicament. Maybe Meira will ride out there with me, could be important to the case.
He dumped the shrimp onto the prep table and started whistling again.
Riley Carr stared at the boy across the table from her. He was supposed to be cute. He had looked cute in his online pic. At least, that’s what she had imagined when he invited her to come out to the store called Leviathan. Apparently, people weren’t always what they appeared to be online…even when they sent you a photo. She could tell he had used some kind of filter to make himself appear…well, smoother…than he did in real life. She couldn’t complain much. She had done much the same to her own photograph. But he paid attention to her, which was more than most of the boys at school could muster.
His hair was a little brighter red, his cheeks were a little more freckled, and his nose was a little more pig-shaped than his photo had shown. But his eyes were exactly the same, and they were staring into hers right now.
The table they sat at was littered with gaming magazines he’d bought for them and they were leafing through them discussing the newest and upcoming innovations in virtual reality games.
When they had exhausted all of the small talk they could come up with, he had stunned her by asking her if she wanted to come over to his house.
“Are you kidding me?” Riley sat back and shook her head as she said it. “My mother would absolutely kill me. Like, literally. Dead meat.”
“Awww, c’mon,” he said. “Just tell her you’re at a sleepover or something. She’ll never suspect a thing. My mom’s not home and we’ll have the place all to ourselves.”
He stuttered when she gave him a suspicious look and added, “ya know, to play games all night.”
“First, she would never, ever go for that. I haven’t been to a sleepover in years. And second, I don’t have any friends that I would stay with anyway. And third, I’m already pushing my luck by being out here.”
“Live a little,” he said through a greasy smile. “You know you want to.”
“Yeah. No.” Riley began stuffing her magazines into her backpack. “In fact, I gotta go. It’s late and my mom’s gonna kill me anyway.”
“That’s cool.” He stood up and took her hand. “Can I text you later?”
“Yeah, sure.”
He handed her his phone and she typed in her cell number. She handed it back to him and it dinged with a new message.
“Ah, shit,” he said in disgust.
“What’s wrong?”
“I gotta go into work. Apparently, they got a special order in for some big party tonight and Troy can’t boil the damn shrimp by himself. Stupid idiot.”
“Okay.” Riley arched her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders. “Not even sure what that means, but that’s cool.”
“Kim and Dana couldn’t deal with that stuff either. If I didn’t work there a couple days a week, that place would fall apart.”
Riley gave him an awkward thumbs-up as she shouldered her backpack. She walked to the door and the bell tinkled as she opened it.
“Hey, but I’ll text you tonight, okay?” he jutted his chin out trying to look cool.
“Not after ten,” she pointed at him.
“Got it.”
Riley grabbed her bike and walked it to the road. She glanced at her watch. It was after six.
“Mom’s gonna kill me,” she muttered to herself as she pedaled down the sidewalk.
Troy walked into the Thai Room Restaurant and the smell of hot curry blasted him in the nose. Luckily, Barry had strolled into the Austin Fish Company and agreed to save the day and do the big order for Trixie Cameron.
“I ain’t drivin’ that shit out there though,” he’d grumbled to Troy. “You’re the delivery boy on this one, dude.”
Troy agreed and flung his grimy apron at the kid on the way out and promised he’d be back in an hour. He didn’t wait to hear Barry gripe any more about it.
Meira Carr looked fully refreshed and beautiful sitting at a small table for two. Her hair was pulled back in a tight blonde ponytail and wore a loose fitting, off the shoulder white blouse. Her lanky runner’s legs poked out of a pair of distressed denim shorts that were almost too short. Her skin was pink with her nose bordering on red. Troy guessed she looked that way from the sun she’d gotten on her run earlier. As he got closer, he realized she was glaring at her cell phone.
“Trouble in paradise?” he asked as he pulled the second chair out from under the table.
“Ugh, it’s nothing,” she said and sat down her phone. “My thirteen year old decided to go on an adventure on her own tonight to some gaming shop up the road. She’s sitting at home, grounded, and keeps trying to get me to tell her the new Wi-Fi password.”
“Hmmm,” Troy said with a grin. “No Wi-Fi, home alone, nothin’ to do? Sounds wonderful to me.”
Meira laughed. “Yeah, me too. Not so much for a teenage girl I guess.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
She laughed again. Putting her phone down, she slid a menu over to Troy. He looked over if for a minute and then put it down.
“Well, I ain’t got a clue what’s good here. You feel like makin’ a recommendation?”
“You like shrimp?”
Troy snorted and licked his lips. She smiled and winked at him.
“Then you’ve got to try the Thai Shrimp Curry. How hot?”
“They got Corona here?”
She nodded.
“Then I’ll take it as hot as they got.”
“You sure about that? Curry is pretty darn hot.”
“Bring it on.”
A few minutes later, the waiter sat their plates in front of them. Ten minutes and four beers later, Troy was mopping his forehead and cheeks.
“Dangit, woman, you weren’t kiddin’. That’s some hot stuff right there.”
Meira grinned at him.
“You shoulda warned me!” he joked.
“I tried!”
“Whew, I’m gonna get a box and save the rest…which I’ll be throwin’ in the ocean after you leave.”
She leaned back in her chair and wiped her mouth.
“If you’re going to throw it out, I’ll take it with me.”
“It’s all yours.”
Troy waved the waiter over and ordered two more Coronas. The Thai Room didn’t have any sliced oranges, so he settled for lime wedges. His mouth was on fire.
“That stuff’s hotter’n a two dollar call girl with a fifty-dollar bill. I don’t know how you can stand it.”
“Takes practice. You’ll get used to it.”
“You invitin’ me to a second date?”
“We’ll see.”
A silence fell between them, but it wasn’t awkward at all. It was sweet. Troy wondered if he was imagining it, but she reached out and touched his hand. He found himself telling her all about his adventures in Pawleys Island, down in the Keys, up to Savannah, and now here… He realized he was telling her everything. There was something about her that made him open up. He hadn’t done that in a long time. Not since…Karah. He felt himself drift down that memory until she startled him out of it.
“Why don’t you tell me why you called me and we’ll go from there. That could have a lot to do with whether or not we do this again.”
Troy took a deep breath. “I s’pose you heard about those two girls gettin’ murdered?”
She nodded and he leaned closer and lowered his voice.
“ ‘Bout how they got their heads cut off and such?”
“Yes.” Her eyes revealed suspicion.
“Well, I worked with ‘em down at the Austin Fish Company.”
“Oh?” She said taking her hand away from his.
“Yeah.”
She started to say something, but he held up a hand to stop her.
“There’s more.”
He described how he’d found their heads in lobster traps that were attached to his boat. And how he’d found two of his beds soaked in their blood. He watched as her unease became full-on fear as he told the story.
The Complete Troy Bodean Tropical Thriller Collection Page 93