The Complete Troy Bodean Tropical Thriller Collection

by David F. Berens

  Feels like it’s going to be a great day, Meira thought.

  15

  All My Bags Are Packed

  Karl Duffy had been at the Nags Head Police Department for five years and hadn’t made any house calls in all his time on the force. But this one was easy. It was on his way back to town and he’d pass by the Carr house anyway. He eased his cruiser into the driveway of the cottage and found it charming…charming enough to make him wonder if he had chosen the wrong career. How hard could it be to work as a private investigator? From the looks of her place, it looked like Meira was pulling in some serious cash.

  “Maybe she needs a partner,” Duffy muttered as he opened his door and stepped onto the flagstone driveway.

  It all looked quiet, but he touched his pistol – a reflex from his awareness training. Make sure you have your piece and make sure someone knows you’re here. He glanced down at the radio and wondered if he should call his location in to the station.

  Nah, he thought as he closed his door. Won’t be more than a minute anyways. Knock, wait, and leave. That should be about it.

  He walked up the steps to the porch and saw the hammock swaying back and forth to his right. A black cat was curled into a ball in the middle of it. When it saw him, it jumped up and scrambled off the porch. Probably a stray, he sniffed. Beside the hammock sat a table with three empty Corona bottles and an almost completely melted candle. The window behind the hammock was closed, but the curtains were pulled back. He walked over and peeked inside.

  The room looked like a sitting room or an office with a white wicker chaise and wicker rocking chair. The hardwood floors were vintage and a multi-color braided rug covered the middle of the room. To the left climbed wall-to-wall shelves with books and magazines piled on sagging shelves. An adequate desk with a laptop and an antique brass lamp with a Tiffany shade took up the space on the opposite wall under another small window.

  Nothing doing in there. He shrugged his shoulders as he walked to the window on the opposite side. This room was obviously the living room. It had a tasteful futon with a floral cover for a couch and an older, but nice-looking leather recliner. The hardwoods here looked the same as the office and had a similar braided rug. A decent sized flat screen TV perched on a glass-topped stand across from the futon. A matching glass coffee table held four more empty beer bottles. The far wall had two white, French doors swung open to reveal the kitchen beyond.

  Best he could tell, there were no lights on and nobody was home. But due diligence being his M.O., he knocked on the front door. Nothing. Yup, he thought, nobody here. Riley’s gone to school.

  He opened his mouth to call out her name as he knocked again a little harder. But he didn’t say anything as the door swung open and his hand reflexively jerked down to his holster. He didn’t draw the gun, but he unsnapped it for easy access.

  The door lazily drifted back until it was wide open. Still no sound from inside. Wait…is that a radio playing? Okay, Duffy, he thought as his pulse began to speed up, get a hold of yourself. Kid’s not used to leaving home by herself. She probably ran out and forgot to lock the door.

  He took a step into the foyer and could easily see into the office on his right and the living room to his left. Stairs led up in front of him and a hallway passed them on the left toward the back of the house.

  “Riley?” he called.

  He circled through the rooms on the first floor and found each room was empty.

  Clear, he thought as he walked back to the stairs. He almost called for backup, but decided against it. If he made the call on an empty house, he’d be the laughing stock at the department. Instead, he eased up the stairs that creaked loudly with every step. Stealth was not an option.

  “Riley?” he projected his voice up to the next level of the house. “It’s Officer Duffy with the NHPD. Are you here?”

  As he topped the stairs, he pondered what a ridiculous question that was…there was only one possible answer to the question. If she wasn’t here, she couldn’t say no. Nobody here but us chickens, he heard the punch line to some old joke in his head.

  The second level appeared to be two bedrooms and a bathroom. He checked the first room to the left and found it decidedly adult—Meira’s bedroom. It had a queen size bed, a white wicker headboard and matching dresser. A vintage bedside table held a similar lamp to the one he’d seen in the office. He knelt, pulled up the bed skirt and peeked underneath. Nothing but a couple of long, flat plastic tubs with sweaters crammed inside.

  He stepped over to the bathroom and found a claw foot tub, pedestal sink, toilet, tastefully tiled floor, and a cabinet above the sink overflowing with all manner of women’s beauty products. He touched the curling iron hanging from the door of the cabinet and found it cold. Not likely it would still be warm from Riley using it this morning, but he checked anyway.

  The last door made him nervous. It was closed, but ajar. He could see light coming through the crack and took a deep breath. He swung it open quickly and ducked down.

  “Freeze!” he yelled and suddenly realized that he’d drawn his gun.

  Nothing. The tinny sound of a radio playing on her bedside table. He walked over and tapped the snooze button.

  Now the room was empty and quiet, so he shook his head and holstered his pistol. The twin bed’s patchwork quilt was thrown over two pillows and for a second he wondered if Riley was still sleeping. But he pulled it back and realized that she’d just thrown the cover over her bed in a quick teenaged attempt at making it. Everything looked normal: her desk, the dresser, and the clothes all over the floor. Again, he checked and found nothing under the bed. He was about to walk out when he heard the whooshing sound of a car going down the street.

  He noticed that the window was cracked open slightly and the screen was out, propped up on the porch roof against the side of the house. That’s odd, he thought as he pulled the window down all the way and turned the latch. He shrugged and took another look around, confirming that Riley’s backpack was not here.

  He closed and pop-locked the front door on his way out and slid into his cruiser. He picked up the radio and clicked over to the channel he’d given to Meira.

  “Hey, Meira, this is Officer Duffy, you there?”

  “Yes. Yes. I’m here. Did you find her?”

  “I’m sitting in front of your house right now. She’s not here and I don’t see any signs of distress. Everything looks A-OK and I don’t see her backpack either. I’m pretty sure she got herself up and went to school.”

  A few seconds of silence and then her voice came back.

  “I know it’s a lot to ask, Duffy, but can you run by there and check? I just…I need to know she’s okay.”

  He glared at the radio. “I suppose I can do that.”

  “Oh, God, thank you so much. I owe you big time.”

  “Maybe you can invite me to your next party,” he shook his head.

  “Party? Huh?”

  “Yeah. Beer bottles all over the porch. Beer bottles inside. Looks like you had a good time.”

  “Oh, ah, yeah. Um…no party, just a couple of friends having a beer.”

  “Right. I’ll call you back when I get to the school.”

  “Thanks, Duffy.”

  He clicked back over to the police band and backed out of the driveway. As he pulled back on the street, he glanced up where he’d seen Riley’s open window and noticed a T-shirt and bra hanging from the gutter on that side.

  “Ha, right. No party indeed.”

  Troy watched Meira as she laid the CB receiver down. She sighed and looked out at the water, her gaze unfocused. After a second, she stood up and turned to Troy.

  “Take me in, please. I need to go check on my baby.”

  Troy didn’t say anything, just nodded. He stood and walked toward the back of the boat where the smaller dingy was tied up.

  “No, wait,” she said. “Let’s give Duffy a few minutes. It’s not like I can get there faster than he can.”

  �
��You sure, darlin’? I don’t mind.”

  Meira took a deep breath. “Yes, yes. It’s fine. I’m sure it’s just my imagination running overtime with all this craziness with the girls’ murders and beheadings and all. I’m fine. Let’s just wait a bit. If need be, you can take me in.”

  “Deal.”

  After a second, he said, “How ‘bout this? Lemme take you out a bit and we’ll throw a couple lines in. Fishin’ always takes my mind off any troubles I’m havin’.”

  Meira wrinkled her nose. “Eww, fishing? Not really my thing.”

  “Hmm,” Troy scratched his beard. “How ‘bout I do the fishin’ and you do the sunnin’?”

  “Well,” she said as she arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t really bring anything to wear for sunbathing.”

  He smiled his best dimple-heavy smile and said, “That won’t bother me none, darlin’.”

  “My, oh, my, Mr. Bodean,” she pretended to fan herself. “Is it getting hot out here, or is it just me?”

  “We won’t go far. I’ll bet Duffy’s at the school by now. C’mon, it’ll do ya good. Seriously.”

  Meira nodded. “You’re right. Let’s go do some fishing and sunning. But don’t get excited, mister. I’m keeping this shirt on!”

  Troy laughed and walked back to the anchor. He pulled it loose from the back of the Island Cutter and tied it onto the dingy. That way it would hold his spot. He jogged back up to the captain’s chair and found Meira rolling up the bottom of her tank top and tying it in a knot. She glanced up at him.

  “Don’t think I can’t tell what you’re looking at behind those sunglasses, sir. You keep your eyes up here.” She jokingly pointed at her eyes.

  He pushed his hat back on his head and took off the RayBans he was wearing. He let them drop to hang on his chest by the orange Croakies he wore around his neck.

  “How ‘bout that? Now you won’t have to guess what I’m starin’ at.”

  She opened her mouth as if to say something then stopped. He watched as a flush of red rushed to her cheeks.

  “You are a charmer, aren’t you, Mr. Bodean.”

  “The name’s Troy…ma’am.”

  “Well, then,” she leaned over and pecked him on the cheek, “you are a charmer, aren’t you…Troy?”

  “Yup.”

  Officer Duffy pulled into the first staff parking space outside the First Flight Middle School and pulled his sun visor down. Looking into the mirror, he licked his thumb and forefinger and ran them over his eyebrows to smooth them down. He didn’t get to come out to the school often, but when he did, he always got a little excited to see the cute receptionist they’d hired last year. Gabby Delarfino was a dark-haired girl from Ecuador with the sexiest accent. Duffy hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to ask her out, but he planned to as soon as the time was right.

  He opened the car door and stood looking into his window, checking his uniform in the reflection. He tucked his shirt in as tight as he could to minimize the bulge of his belly hanging over his belt. When he was satisfied that he looked as good as possible, he strode toward the front of the building doing his best John Wayne swagger.

  He punched the buzzer on the door and leaned toward the window so Gabby could see him. When she did, she smiled and buzzed him in.

  “Hello Meester Duffy,” she said with a thick accent. “So, good to see you. What brings you to the school today?”

  “Howdy Miss D,” he sniffed and leaned on the counter in front of her. “Official business actually. Can’t stay long. Just need to clarify the location of a certain individual that is in your care and uh...”

  He tried to sound important and add as many big words as he could, but he lost his train of thought when she leaned forward looking concerned. Her yellow sundress was cut low and the tan skin of her chest flustered him.

  “Oh no,” she said and her eyelids blinked quickly. “That doesn’t sound good at all.”

  He swallowed and took a deep breath trying hard to maintain focus on her big, brown eyes. She pulled a hand up and twirled the end of her long back hair. A long pause hung between them and he realized he had his mouth open and was gaping at her. He stood up suddenly. As he did, his hand accidentally caught the edge of a display holding brochures about the school. The fliers scattered across the lobby fluttering to the floor.

  “Aw hell,” he sputtered and scrambled around picking up the papers. “I’m sorry.”

  She hurried around the counter and began to help him. Her hand brushed against his as they both reached for the same piece of paper and she looked up at him. Her tan cheeks flushed a little and she smiled.

  “Eez okay, Meester Duffy,” she said in a slightly nervous voice. “I can get these. You have important work to do.”

  He stood and pulled his belt up. “Thank you, Miss D. Can you tell me which class Riley Carr would be in?”

  “Oh, ummm,” she pursed her lips and looked up and to the right, a stunningly cute look on her. “I believe she eez in Meester Grantham’s class for first period. Down the hall, turn left and he’s the second room on the right.”

  He handed her a brochure he’d been clutching in his left hand, tipped his imaginary hat toward her, and sniffed importantly.

  “I’ll check in on her and then I’ll stop back by.”

  “Okay, thank you, Meester Duffy.”

  “Call me Karl,” he smiled as he turned to clip-clop his way down the hall.

  She didn’t say anything, but when he looked back, he saw that she was still watching him walk away. Unfortunately, he didn’t see the wall as he turned toward the wing that held Mr. Grantham’s classroom and he slammed right into it.

  “Dammit,” he muttered and rubbed his forehead.

  That’s gonna leave a knot, he thought.

  Duffy found the room and looked through the tall narrow safety window in the door. He was looking from the back of the room toward the front, where Mr. Grantham was gesturing wildly with excitement. Apparently whatever he was teaching was more interesting to him than to his students, because Duffy could see the backs of several heads that looked sound asleep.

  All the seats were full and he saw the back of a girl’s head in the last row beside the window. A black backpack sat leaning up against her chair and she had ear buds in.

  That’s gotta be her, Duffy thought and started to knock.

  At that exact moment, Mr. Grantham went into a tirade flinging books and yelling at the students for their apparent lack of appreciation for his teaching. Duffy pulled his hand down and backed away from the window. He pulled the CB receiver from his shoulder and clicked the Meira Carr channel.

  “Meira, I’ve got eyes on her in class. You there?”

  “I’m here. Is she okay? What’s she doing?”

  “She’s in Mr. Grantham’s class right now. You want me to pull her out?”

  There was pause on the line and finally Meira said, “No, no, that’s fine. She’s safe?”

  “Well, she might not be safe from Grantham’s wrath, but as far as I can see, she’ll live through it.”

  “Okay, thank you, Duffy. I owe you one.”

  “Next party, right?”

  “Uh, sure. Whatever you say.”

  “Good, cause I got a date in mind to bring too.”

  He could almost see Meira Carr’s eyebrows rise on the other end of the line.

  “Oh, um…okay, great. I’ll…uh, let you know.”

  “Cool. Over and out.”

  As he walked away from Mr. Grantham’s classroom, he practiced his best lines for Gabby. He almost skipped back up to the front office.

  “Told ya she was good.”

  Meira looked at Troy and hung up the CB. “I know, I know, but it’s my daughter and all this madness going on with the murders…”

  “Say no more,” Troy held up a hand to stop her. “Now, let’s get out a ways so you can finally get rid of that shirt.”

  Meira opened her mouth to protest, but then asked, “Promise to have me back before schoo
l let’s out?”

  He nodded and crossed his heart with his finger. Her eyebrow arched above her right eye and a mischievous grin spread across her lips. She reached down to the knot holding the tank top up above her midriff. She untied it and crossed her arms to take hold of the bottom of the shirt. With one smooth pull, she lifted it up over her head and shook her hair out. Try as he might, Troy could not keep from staring at the beautiful, topless woman in front of him.

  “How’s that?” she asked wryly.

  “Yer quite the charmer yourself, aren’t you, Mrs. Carr.”

  “The name’s Meira…sir.”

  “Well, then,” he leaned over and kissed her full on the lips. “You are a charmer, aren’t you…Meira?”

  “Yup,” she said winking at him. “Now, let’s get this boat out into the ocean.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said and thrust the throttle forward.

  The boat lifted up on plane and flew out toward the horizon. Meira raised her arms into the air like a roller-coaster rider. Her hair flapped wildly in the wind behind her and she let out a whoop.

  It’s gonna be a good day, Troy thought as he whooped along with her.

  16

  Naked Truths

  Troy Clint Bodean could barely remember feeling like this—genuinely struck by a woman. The last time had been back at Pawleys Island during what he’d come to call the Summer of the Hat. When they got far enough out, he slowed the boat and found a deep spot to throw out some lines. Today, however, he couldn’t care less what he caught on his hook. He cared more about a catch that was currently lying on the deck, topless, tanning herself in the early sun.

  “Ya know, you’re gonna wanna get some sunscreen on your um…on the uh…well, the parts that don’t often see the sun.”

  Meira propped up on her elbows and grinned at him.

  “I don’t suppose you have some lying around. You know, for an emergency such as this?”