"It's an anti-coagulant. His blood would be slow to clot. He bled-out in his brain, and that's also why his broken nose and that cut near his eye bled so badly."
"Thanks for filling me in. Let me know if anything else pops up."
"Sure thing, Sheriff."
After the doctor hung up, Gabe sat back down at his desk. His head was down, elbows on the desk, resting his chin on his clenched hands, deep in thought. At the sound of a polite knock on his open door, he looked up and was surprised to see Nora standing there.
"What brings you to town, Nora? Must say I'm glad, though, whatever it is."
"I think I left out something important the other day.
"Have a seat," he said, pulling a scarred-up office chair over to his desk. "Can I get you a coffee, a cold drink, water?" he asked.
"No, thanks, I'm good," she answered—manners and good looking, hmmm. "Gramps is picking up a couple of things so I have to be quick. I forgot to tell you there was a plane that night."
"A plane?" he asked.
"I was sitting on the porch reading. The plane was coming in low, too low. I thought it was going to crash. It flew right over Jessup's and back up. It didn't have time to land. That's how I saw the lights. I was looking for the plane."
"Any chance you saw any lettering or numbers?"
"No. It was too dark, but I do know it was a Piper Malibu."
"How do you know it was a Piper Malibu?" he asked.
"My dad had one. I know the sound of the engine. He and my mom actually died when it crashed a couple of years ago."
"I’m sorry, Nora," he said and meant it.
"I haven't flown since that day."
"I'm guessing you have a pilot's license?"
"Yes. I had just passed my solo for the license. I would have been with them, but Jasper was getting new shoes that day.
Gabe was becoming more and more intrigued by the minute. Not only beautiful but . . . she had a head on her shoulders and used it. The combination fascinated him.
"Look, I've got to go meet Gramps. I hope the information helps."
"Yes, it does. Thanks for dropping by. I'm going to make a couple of calls and get back to you," Gabe said and thought quickly. "Can I come out later tonight, and you can show me the route the plane took as it came and went? Maybe sit on that porch of yours for a while. In case it comes back."
"I think that might be okay. You have to get the facts right, don't you?" Nora said.
"You said you were on your porch? About what time was that?"
“It must have been around nine or so.”
"Right," he said. He was looking in her eyes and not down at his note book.
"Gramps is waiting, so bye for now." She turned and hurried away before she changed her mind.
Gabe stood there and watched her go. "Crap," he muttered out loud, watching the sway of her hips. He rubbed his hands over his face. An idea was turning around in his head . . . actually two ideas: one about the plane and the other about Nora. He went back to sit at his desk and shuffled through an old notebook he kept with phone numbers he had hoped he would never have to use down here in the land of cows and oranges.
Chapter Nine
Gramps answered the knock on the door, "Hi, Sheriff, come on in. Nora is already out on the porch. Are you off duty?"
Gabe stepped in and took off his hat, nervously turning it in his hands. "I'm off, but you never know."
"Can I get you a beer or maybe just a soft drink?" Gramps asked.
"I'll take the beer, thanks Mr. Hollister," Gabe said to the old man's back as he dug in the fridge for the beer.
"Oh, for pity sake, just call me ‘Gramps.’ Everyone else around here does."
"Only if you call me Gabe," he said taking the offered beer in his hand. He stood there awkwardly, the beer in one hand, his hat in the other.
"That's a deal. Come on, I'll take you out to the porch and Nora."
The two men found Nora peacefully reading in the soft glow of a lamp. Gabe appreciated the way the light made her hair glow with streaks of russet and gold. When the wooden planks of the porch creaked, she turned. "You made it," she said putting her book down. "Have a seat. It might be a waste of time waiting for that plane to come again."
Gramps retreated to the kitchen. Gabe moved a rather large cat out of a chair next to Nora. "Sorry, Cat," he said. The cat sat on the floor in front of Gabe looking at him as if to say, "Who do you think you are taking my seat?" Hobo then stood, stretched and walked away with is tail in the air.
"Hobo doesn't mind. He's always getting in the way."
"Nice cat, though," Gabe replied. Sitting down, he placed his hat on the floor next to his chair, opened his beer, and took a long pull on the cold brew. "That's good after the day I've had."
"Bad day, huh?" Nora asked.
"It started off really good when you came by for a visit. It went downhill after that." Gabe sipped his beer wondering how much he should tell her about what he’d found out. Deciding to tell her everything, he started at the beginning.
“After you left, I thought about that plane some more. I'd read an article somewhere, probably in a police journal, that said the drug cartels were moving north from Miami. It said that the dealers are dropping their loads in Lake Okeechobee. Pick-up men take speed boats out and pick them up before they sink.
“There is a group they are calling the ‘Okeechobee Eight’ that the Feds are trying to catch and prosecute. There might be a whole bunch involved, but that’s the main group.
"It made me think about the plane you saw and the headlights. It would also explain why Henry Jessup was attacked. If it's what I think, they couldn't afford a confrontation with an old man who might go to the police. They roughed him up, threatened him to keep his mouth shut. They didn't expect him to die on them. Of course, I’m just taking some educated guesses right now."
"Who are they?" Nora asked.
"For the answer to that I had to call a friend of mine in the DEA, the Drug Enforcement Agency, up in Washington, D.C. He didn't want to talk on the phone, so he's coming down in the next couple of days. He thinks there might be something big starting up around here."
"Big? You mean like a big drug thing going on around here? Gabe, this is Myakka. Nothing big goes on around here, ever. We're in the middle of nowhere."
"Maybe not, but he wants to come down anyway. It's all . . ."
"Shush, listen." Nora cut him off. "Don't you hear it?"
Gabe strained to hear what she heard. Then from the south came the sound of a plane engine. Nora reached out her hand and grabbed Gabe's arm. Listening carefully, she said, "That's the same plane from the other night."
"How can you tell?" he asked softly.
"One of the pistons is misfiring."
Gabe would just have to trust her on that one. Nora turned off her reading lamp, and they both stood, watching and waiting. The plane came closer, and just as it had the other night, it swooped down low over Jessup's pasture and rose right up again. Headlights came on as the plane rose. The lights seemed to move towards where the plane had dropped. The sound of car doors slamming echoed in the still air. Suddenly another sound split the quiet evening.
"You shot Richie! What in hell did you do that for?" Tito exclaimed.
"You're next if you don't move this shit and load it in the van," Santos said, pointing a gun at Tito's head.
"Okay! Okay! But why shoot him?" Tito asked.
"He was helping himself a bit too often. I don't take that from anyone. Remember that, in case you every think about cheating me. Besides, you think he was in jail with you because he was an angel? “We've been bringing this stuff in for a couple of months now. Richie was too sure of himself and got caught dealing. That's how he ended up with you. We took him out so he couldn't talk to anyone about us. Now, he definitely won't talk." Santos laughed at his own joke.
"Now, move your boney ass. Someone might have heard that shot and come calling."
Tito threw heav
y packages of cocaine in the back of the van as fast as he could. The two men jumped in and sped out the open back gates.
"That was a gun shot," Gabe exclaimed. He looked around for his hat. Hobo had found a new place to sleep, curled up in it. He dumped the cat out, slapping the hat against his leg to get rid of the fur.
He raced out the way he had come, passing a very confused and curious Gramps. Nora was hot on his tail. He was jumping into the driver's side of his car when Nora pulled open the passenger side and started to get in as well. "You have to stay here. It might not be safe."
"Oh, I'll be safe alright," Nora said. It was then she showed him the rifle in her hands. "All loaded and ready to go."
Gabe didn't wait to argue and started the engine. Nora never ceased to amaze him. The idea crossed his mind he might have to have that talk with Gramps sooner than he thought.
They drove out the back way. Jessup's gate had been left open again. Driving away, the red tail lights of a vehicle disappeared down the road. Continuing through the gate, they stopped the car by the old house, got out and shut the doors quietly in case anyone was still around. Gabe turned on a flashlight, keeping it pointed at the ground as they made their way down the tree line.
"There's no vehicle here. That must have been them leaving," Nora said. She kept walking around in the pasture.
"You're probably right. We'll have to come back in the daylight to find anything."
"Oh, hell," Nora stumbled and fell, the rifle flying from her hand.
"Are you okay?" Gabe asked, trying to find her with the flashlight in the dark.
"I think I landed in a cow patty," she said standing up. She was making a face and shaking her hands in disgust.
"I don't think it was a cow patty, Nora," Gabe said, shining his flashlight on a body and then on Nora's hands, which were covered in blood.
"Ooooh . . . ," Nora squealed looking at her hands. She bent over and tried to wipe the blood from her hands in the grass.
Gabe was leaning over the dead man. He turned him over and recognized him immediately. The dead man was Richie Cantura. "That's the guy that helped Tito post bail. What the hell is going on here?" he asked, taking Nora by the elbow, and walking her back to his car.
He called into headquarters to report what they had found and get some help on the way. He dug around in his trunk and handed Nora a semi-clean rag to wipe her hands with.
"Can I go in the house and give Gramps a call?" she asked. "He'll want to know that we’re okay and that we might be a while." She looked at her hands, "And I need to wash my hands."
"This is still a crime scene, so don't touch anything else," Gabe cautioned.
By the time she returned, flashing lights from several patrol cars were coming up the dirt tract from the main road.
"The first officer to arrive will take you and your rifle home," Gabe said.
"Thanks," she said. "I really want to take a shower." She was holding her hands away from her clothes. Her quick hand wash had still left clotted blood under her nails, and looking at them made her shudder.
It didn't take long for Officer Alvarez to arrive. He took notice of Nora standing beside Sheriff McAllister. "Ma’am," he said touching the brim of his Stetson in greeting.
"Would you please give Miss Hollister a ride home?" Gabe asked. "Come right back, and we'll go over the crime scene as best we can in the dark. Is the coroner on his way?"
"Yes, Sir, I called him right after I spoke with you." He turned to Nora, "This way, Ma’am," he said gesturing towards his patrol car.
Nora looked back at Gabe as she walked behind Officer Alvarez. Making a face, she mouthed the words – “I'm a Ma’am? Ma’am?” She pointed at herself. Gabe had to try very hard to suppress a laugh. He knew in that moment that he was a goner.
In no time, she was back in her own house and pounding up the stairs to take a shower. Gramps tried to talk to her as she flew past him.
"I'll be down in a jiffy and fill you in. Right now, I need a shower, badly."
A few minutes later, she came down wrapped in a comfy robe, her hair still wet as she rubbed it with a towel.
Gramps was in the kitchen waiting for her to tell him what had happened.
"Gramps, I need a drink," she said.
"It was that bad, huh? You're in luck. I have a bottle of Macallan tucked away." While Gramps went to retrieve the Scotch, Nora talked to Rex and rubbed his ears.
"What is going on around here, Rex, Old Boy? Two dead bodies, and Gabe thinks there are drug dealers around here now."
Gramps came back with two glasses filled with about an inch of the honey-gold whiskey. Nora took her glass and raised it in salute, "Thanks, Gramps." The potent liquor burned all the way down and warmed her insides. She closed her eyes a moment to collect her thoughts. She told her grandfather about how they had found Richie Cantura.
"If it is drug dealers, I bet that Richie person got greedy and whoever it is running this put a permanent stop to it," Gramps said, draining his glass.
Nora took another sip. "I'm going to bed. I just can't get my head around all this. First, Henry Jessup, and now another man is dead. Gabe will be by in the morning. I have to make a statement, again." She finished her drink and took both glasses to the sink. Talking out loud to herself she said, "I've just got to stop finding dead bodies," and walked up the stairs to bed.
Her sleep was disturbed by dreams and nightmares that had her tossing and turning. She woke with a start. She had been falling into a blood-filled pool where Richie's face looked at her.
What disturbed her more were the other dreams she’d had. Sensual dreams of her in Gabe's embrace. She looked to him for comfort and to make sense of everything, yet her body responded to his arms holding her—his lips seeking hers.
She woke up again. Still the feelings insisted on staying with her. She felt her dampened desires were taking over and she had no control. She’d had brief affairs in college, but she was never, ever lost in this consuming desire to have her dreams come true. What would Gabe think if he knew? They barely knew each other.
Waiting for the crime scene crew to finish, Gabe had stayed at the scene long after midnight. He drove to his small house in Arcadia, tired and worn out. He tried to sleep, but it eluded him. His mind kept going over and over the events of the last few days. He hoped his friend in the DEA was on his way. He'd call and check in the morning. Once that decision was made, he tried for sleep again.
Not much luck there. This time, his thoughts turned to Nora and the way the light made her eyes change color. They could be gray and smoldering or tawny as a lion. Her smile was magical, and he longed to kiss her lips and explore her mouth with his. His body took his thoughts and was responding. As the sun started its ascent, he gave up on getting any rest and took a cold shower.
Chapter Ten
Gabe hung up the phone after talking with his friend, Daniel Parker. He was on his way and would arrive in a couple of hours. Gabe had some time before he needed to set out for the Tampa Airport. He didn't know why, but he found himself at Nora's back door first.
"Hi, Gabe. I thought you might stop by this morning," Gramps said pushing the screen door open. "Come on in. How about a cup of coffee?"
"Thanks, Gramps, but I don't really have time. I came by to see if Nora cared to take a ride with me to the airport. I'm picking up that friend from the DEA I told you all about."
"Why not go ask her?" Gramps suggested. "She's out in the barn feeding Jasper." He smiled as Gabe bounced down the steps and quickly walked out to the barn.
He found Nora, pitchfork in hand, cleaning out Jasper’s stall while the big Appaloosa, tied to a ring on the wall outside in the walkway, finished his breakfast. Jasper whinnied as Gabe entered the barn. Nora came out of the stall and brushed damp hair off her face. She smiled at Gabe and stood there leaning on the pitchfork, hay in her hair and muck on her boots. He thought she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
Walking around Jasper, he
prudently took the pitchfork from her hands. "I never kiss anyone while they are holding a deadly weapon," Gabe said taking her in his arms.
Nora never had time to think of protesting. His kiss was soft and sweet. He was drawing back when she snaked her arms around and brought him back. Her lips were on fire as they took his. Needing to take a breath, they stepped back from each other, happy—although a bit confused. What had they begun? Was this even a beginning? Their thoughts echoed each other.
"Aaaa, I don't know why I did that," Gabe said. "I just couldn't resist."
"I'm glad you did," Nora answered shyly. She felt the heat rising in her face.
"Can you take a ride with me? I'm picking up my friend Daniel Parker at the airport in Tampa. He's with the DEA. We can fill him in on the way back."
"I have to put Jasper away, and I smell," Nora said, trying to brush the straw from her hair.
"I'll leave the windows open, and you look fine to me."
"Give me two minutes, and I'll be ready." Nora said, quickly untying Jasper and leading him into his stall. "Can you take the hose and fill his water pail? I'll meet you at your car."
She rushed off leaving Gabe wondering where the hose was and how to fill the water pail. By the time he figured it out and walked out to his car, she was waiting. She'd changed out of her smelly boots and combed the straw out of her hair. In minutes they were off, traveling north to Tampa and the airport.
Showing his badge to a security guard, Gabe parked his patrol car outside the arrivals’ terminal. Reading the gate announcements posted over the baggage carousels, they made their way to the one offloading from Washington, D.C. Daniel was already there waiting for his things to show up.
Gabe stole up behind him and surprised Daniel, grabbing his arm and spinning him around into a friendly guy hug. "How're you doing old man," Gabe joked.
Daniel was in his early thirties, although his hair showed traces of early gray. He was easy to look at and very fit—although not quite as tall as Gabe. He had his suit jacket over his arm and was carrying an overstuffed briefcase.
Daniel found his bag coming around and hefted it off the carousel before it could go around again. He placed in on the floor in front of him. “Who’s the pretty lady?”
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