The Complete Troy Bodean Tropical Thriller Collection

by David F. Berens

  “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 hook, 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 goo
d. 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.

  She gently pulled the edges of the screen inward and was careful not to drop it. If it went clattering across the roof, she would just say she was getting some air. She laid the screen aside and grabbed her backpack. A cool wind blew in across her face and she wondered if she’d need a jacket. Nah, they’d be inside and hopefully sharing warmth. She felt the smile creep onto her face.

  Easing herself out onto the roof, she sat on her butt and scooted to the edge of the roof. Her plan was to swing down onto the porch. On the side where the hammock hung, then she would ease down and step onto the rail. Easy-peasy. She inched her way closer to the edge of the roof and realized she’d forgotten about the gutter. She’d have to somehow climb over it without grabbing hold and ripping it off the eaves. Surveying the situation, she found that she could loop her backpack onto an empty plant hook near the back of the porch, ease over and swing down without putting too much weight on the gutter. At least, that had been the plan.

  Hooking the backpack was the easy part. Getting the nerve to swing out and over the edge…that was the part she wasn’t looking forward to. And from this vantage point, the ground looked to be a long way down. She took a deep breath, steeled herself for the swing—and the likely fall after—and rolled over the edge of the roof. As she did, she heard her mother’s voice call from inside.

  “Don’t you fall asleep on me out there, Troy.”

  “This hammock is a thing of beauty,” she heard the man’s voice and it was immediately underneath her.

  Her mother’s client, or boyfriend, or whatever he was, was obviously lying in the hammock directly underneath her.

  Crap, Riley thought in panic. There was no way to stop her swing now. Her legs went dangling over the edge of the eave, but her upper body was still laid out on the roof. She was half on and half off. She controlled her breathing and hoped the man wouldn’t look in her direction. If he did, he surely see her legs.

  “I believe I could just stay here all night,” the man said.

  No, no, no, Riley thought, go inside for chrissakes.

  She heard her mother laugh and the sound of clinking glass inside.

  “Last two beers,” she called and her voice got closer.

  The squeak of the screen door opening sent panic up into Riley’s spine. Her grip slipped and she scooted roughly down on the roof. The shingles grabbed her shirt and tugged it up. Her stomach was exposed now, but protected from the gritty surface as the shirt rolled upward. The gutter was now tucked under her arms and her bellybutton and legs hung down swinging in the air. Sweat began to form on her face and her hands were getting slick. She knew what was coming. There would be no climbing back up…she was going to fall. Her only hope would be to swing all the way over and land on the porch rail. Her mom and the man would see her, but that’d be preferable to falling.

  “Come on in,” she heard her mother say. “I need the light to make some notes about this whole sword thing.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the man replied. “I’m on my way.”

  He groaned and Riley heard the sound of his feet thumping onto the porch and the hammock squeaking as it swung back and forth. Her grip slipped and she slid. In the worst possible scenario, she felt the edge of her bra catch on the gutter. Panic flooded her mind. Her shirt was now rolled up to her elbows and neck and the gutter had grabbed the only remaining fabric on her upper body. She felt the cool air on her chest as the only thing between her and the night lifted away. Her legs kicked wildly as she tried to stop her fall.

  The screen door opened and then banged shut just as she lost her grip. Her shirt and bra ripped off and stayed behind on the roof. Her legs caught the edge of the rail and her hands grabbed the hooked backpack. She swung down onto the porch and ducked behind the not-so-perfect-cover of the hammock. But she was alone on the porch.

  She’d done it. She’d managed not to fall to her death or get caught. But there was one big problem. She was now topless. The remnants of her T-shirt and bra fluttered in the breeze dangling from the gutter. She squeezed the backpack to her chest, essentially wearing it backward, to cover herself.

  “Shit,” she mouthed as she huddled to catch her breath.

  Her first thought was to try and climb back up to get her clothes, but she could see the shredded bra and changed her mind. She glanced out to the driveway and saw the man’s truck sitting there. M
aybe he’s got a spare shirt or a jacket or something in there, she thought. When she was sure her mom and the man had gone inside for good, she crept under the hammock and crawled down the steps to the ground. She darted across the scraggy lawn and gently pulled the handle on the passenger’s side of the pickup. It was locked. She groaned and ran around the truck to the driver’s side. It was locked too. So much for that plan.

  She moved to the back of the truck and looked in the bed. There was a knotted grocery bag with what looked like clothing inside. Maybe a lucky break. She tore into the bag and found a T-shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. As soon as she got them out, the smell hit her. The clothes smelled like fish guts and had a fair amount of unrecognizable goop on them. She took a deep breath.

  “Better than being naked,” she muttered as she pulled the shirt over her head.

  The smell was disgusting, but her panic at being exposed began to settle. She’d just borrow one from Barry when she got to his place. She walked to the road, oriented herself, and opened the GPS on her phone. He’d sent her the address earlier and she clicked, GO.

  -On my way.

  -Finally LOL.

  -See u in ten.

  -Ok princess.

  Riley tucked her phone into her backpack and started walking. She felt the bounce come back to her steps as she walked. The exhilaration of sneaking out was intoxicating…so much so that she almost didn’t notice the raindrops begin to dot her face.

  Troy spent the next hour poring over the information Meira had gotten from Darla down at the police station. Meira was lounging on the couch and he saw her exaggerate a yawn. He looked up at her.

  “Sleepy?”

  “Yeah.” Her eyes were a little glazed over from the beer and exhaustion. “Probably head to bed soon.”

  “Want to make that trip out to the boat? I’ll be good,” he said and raised three fingers in the air. “Scout’s honor.”

  She laughed. “I wish I could. It’s a school night. Gotta be here to get Riley up and going.”

  “I’ll have you back before that. Just long enough to see the sunrise.”