Dirt Nap

by Carolyn Elizabeth

  Corey tried to picture the man she was describing. “Anyone you can compare him to? Like an actor or something?” she asked. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see Thayer frowning at her.

  “Hmm. Yes, what’s the name of the one in those Ring movies?”

  “You’ve seen The Ring?” Corey’s mouth gaped in shock.

  “Oh, my, god.” Thayer rolled her eyes.

  “The ones with the hobbits and the swords.” Lil waved her hand around.

  “Oh.” Corey grinned. “Lord of the Rings?”

  “That’s right. He was in that. He was a warrior of some kind.”

  Corey’s lips pursed in thought. She had seen them but she wasn’t that big a fan of the series.

  “Aragorn,” Thayer offered, looking entirely annoyed.

  “That’s right. Very good, Jo. Harold Crandall looks a little like him.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Corey flopped onto the sofa with a beer and flipped through the channels of the large HD television until she found the Jets and Giants pre-season game. “Do we have any other plans today?” she called to Thayer, who had disappeared toward the bedroom.

  “I don’t.”

  Corey sucked on her beer and stretched her legs out in front of her. “Good.”

  “Oh.” Thayer commented as she came back into the great room several minutes later. “I was going to exercise, though. I need the television for an hour or two.”

  Corey glanced up at her and nearly spit out her beer. “Holy shit.” She coughed, ogling Thayer dressed in form-fitting, black and emerald green Lycra crop pants and a matching racer back tank. “Are you kidding me, right now?”

  Thayer took advantage of Corey’s distraction and snatched the remote from her hand to switch the input and stream her favorite Pilates and yoga workouts. “Thank you.”

  “Wait.” Corey stood, still staring. “How have I never seen this?” She swept her hand up and down while Thayer unrolled her yoga mat in front of the television.

  “Because I make a point never to do this when you’re around. So, be gone with you.”

  “What do you mean?” Corey feigned hurt. “I can’t watch?”

  “Absolutely not.” Thayer lowered herself onto the mat gracefully without using her hands. “You’ll distract me.”

  “I’ll distract you?” Corey’s mouth gaped as Thayer began a series of stretches, her long, toned muscles moving smoothly beneath her bronze skin.

  “If you want to watch the game go back to your condo or to the bar,” Thayer suggested. “I’ll call you when you can come back.” Thayer looked over her shoulder, eyes dancing, as she stretched her arms slowly over her head, arching her back and displaying her breasts. “If you want to come back, that is.”

  Corey sucked in a breath. “You are a wicked tease, babe.”

  “Only if I don’t put out later.” Thayer laughed. “Bye.”

  Corey sat in her truck at the end of the driveway drumming her fingers on the wheel and considering how to spend the next two hours. Going left would take her back into town and somewhere she could watch the game. Going right would take her farther around the lake and to Jake’s Bait and Tackle where she had absolutely no business snooping around.

  Five minutes later she stopped for the truck in front of her to make a wide turn into the road and back their boat trailer down the ramp to the water. Her fingers tapped against the wheel, her leg jiggling with an anxiety she couldn’t define.

  The dirt parking lot of Jake’s Bait and Tackle was nearly full with trucks and trailers. The weathered, wood-sided building saw a steady stream of customers coming and going. Some headed toward cars and others toward boats tied up at one of the small docks scattered with gas pumps.

  Corey stared at the dusty windows of the shop covered with tatty signs for beer, cigarettes, and groceries, along with advertisements for all manner of fishing equipment, boat accessories, and bait. She figured she could just pop in to take a look around and pick up a six-pack for her troubles with no one the wiser. Five minutes tops.

  On cue, Darth Vader’s theme rang out from her back pocket, signaling another call from Collier. She ignored it, not interested in any more apologies from him. She’d get back to him in her own time.

  It rang again as she hopped up the steps to the front door of the shop, the ring interrupted this time by a text chime. She rolled her eyes and pulled the phone, checking the message.

  Answer your fucking phone!

  Corey jerked to stop at the top step, her eyes widening as she swiped her phone on. “Hello?”

  “Do not go in that store,” he barked and Corey froze, her head snapping up. “Do not look around. You are thirty seconds away from fucking up an operation and this entire case.”

  “Shit.” Corey tried to relax and stepped back down toward the parking lot.

  “Get your ass over here.”

  “Where?” Corey replied, trying not to look for him.

  “The boat launch.”

  Corey winced as the line disconnected and walked back through the parking lot. She considered just getting back in her truck and driving back to Thayer’s, but her curiosity was overwhelming and Collier sounded really pissed. She should probably address that.

  “Get in,” Collier commanded from the passenger side window of his unmarked car parked off the side of the road, facing the bait shop. Corey bent to look through his window to see Steph glaring at her and shaking her head.

  She opened the back door and slid in, realizing her mistake as soon as her ass hit the hard, black vinyl seat and the door slammed closed. She looked at the two of them through the metal cage between the front and rear seats.

  Collier’s car was unmarked but still very much a police car, which she became acutely aware of as she groped for the door handle on the inside, only to come up empty. “Oh, shit.”

  “Curtis.” Collier turned around and smiled, menacingly, while Steph returned to her surveillance of the shop. “What are you doing here?”

  “Would you believe I was thinking about taking up fishing?” Corey offered hesitantly.

  “You are such a colossal pain in my ass. I am starting to feel less badly about cuffing you,” he thundered.

  “Take it easy.” Corey raised her hands in apology. “Don’t get all eye twitchy on me. I didn’t come here to crash your party. I have no idea what you have going on right now. I just wanted to take a look around.”

  Collier faced front and resumed watching the building, occasionally through binoculars. “It’s like you’re trying to give me a fucking stroke.”

  Corey sighed. “Steph, help me out here?”

  “Not this time, sister.” Steph shook her head, eyes trained forward.

  “Sorry. Jesus,” she said. “Will you at least tell me what’s going on?”

  “Here he comes now.” Collier ignored her as a small outboard whined its way toward the dock. Collier passed the binoculars to Steph.

  “Who’s that? Crandall?” Corey straightened and peered through the windshield. She didn’t need binoculars to see the lone occupant was a muscular younger man, ratty jeans, T-shirt and stained gray hoodie with a filthy orange cap pulled low over his eyes. “That’s not him.”

  “He looks good,” Steph commented as they watched the disheveled and twitchy man make a show of admiring some of the nicer boats before shuffling along the dock to the store.

  “Who?” Corey asked, squinting at the man. “Tell me.”

  “Shut it, Curtis,” Collier snapped.

  “Fine,” Corey huffed. She chewed her lip and started singing an old camp song in a terrible voice. “I don’t wanna get married, I’m having too much fun. I don’t wanna get married to any certain one.”

  “Quiet,” Collier barked, turning around.

  Corey stared pointedly at him. “I’ve got a lotta girlfriends—I changed that part there—I treat them all the same. To marry one and cheat the rest would be a dirty shame.”

  “Corey, come on,” Steph
said, shaking her head.

  “Let me out or tell me. I know you’ve seen Ghost. Second verse, same as the first, but a little bit louder and a little bit worse. I don’t wanna get married. I’m having too much fun. I don’t wanna get married—”

  “Christ on the cross,” Collier blurted. “It’s Officer Warren. He’s making a buy. The kids gave up Jake Butler dealing out of the shop. The punch card gets you access. If we can bust Jake, we can get him to roll over on Harold Crandall and make the case, shutting down his distribution network.”

  “Nicely done.” Corey nodded, impressed.

  Her compliment seemed to mollify him, his expression softening. “Yeah.”

  “He’s coming out,” Steph said.

  Collier turned back to look out front. “He give the sign?”

  “There it is—cap off, hands through hair, cap back on.”

  Corey craned to see Kelly Warren make his way back down toward the dock.

  “Let’s go,” Collier said. “I’ll call for the warrant. Roll the cars, silent.”

  Corey sat forward, unable to contain her excitement. She was up close and personal at what was about to be a major drug bust.

  Steph moved the car into the lot and parked close to Corey’s truck. Her view of the store from the backseat was almost entirely obstructed. Steph and Collier were fully involved with each other and the case as radios crackled and other cars pulled in behind them.

  “Hey,” Corey barked at them as they got out of the front, paying her no mind at all.

  Collier rapped on the glass with his knuckles as he walked by. “Stay put, Curtis.”

  “Motherfucker.” She scrabbled at the door she couldn’t open and then rattled the cage between front and back. She wasn’t going anywhere and she couldn’t watch. At least Steph and Collier had the foresight to leave the front windows down for her. Corey groaned to no one. “Thayer’s going to kill me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Corey tried not to look at her watch every thirty seconds while she listened to the sounds of doors slamming, radios crackling and Collier booming orders. Cars around her fired up as wide-eyed shop patrons left in a cloud of dust, having been cleared of any wrongdoing. She heard the whine and rumble of boat engines start and roar off at speed. The minutes kept ticking by.

  An eternity later Steph and Collier reconvened near the car and she could hear snippets of their conversation. Crandall had been identified there by several other patrons. He had come by boat and was intending to get gas until he joined a few men discussing the death of Drew Weeks and the arrest of his buddies. It was reported Crandall got really jumpy and took off again before gassing up.

  “He’s running,” Steph stated.

  “At least he won’t get very far without gas,” Collier replied.

  “Unless he gets it somewhere else.”

  “Get someone contacting the lake residents.”

  Corey sat up, an uneasy feeling in her gut, and pulled out her phone.

  “Hi, sweetheart, I was just going to call you,” Thayer answered.

  “Are you okay?” Corey asked.

  “Of course. Is something wrong?”

  Corey exhaled quietly in relief. “Nope. Just checking.”

  “How’s the game?”

  “Uh, I’m not watching the game.” Corey winced.

  “No? Where did you go?”

  “Just took a drive around the lake.”

  “For two hours?”

  “Yeah, um…” Corey grimaced. “...I’ve been held up.”

  “Corey?”

  “Well, um, maybe detained is a better word.”

  “Tell me.”

  Corey’s words tumbled out on a breath. “I went to Jake’s Bait place just to check it out and Collier and Steph were here because they were about to bust the place and I just about walked in on it. Now I’m sitting in the back of their car and there’s no fucking door handles and I can’t get out on my own or else I would have been on my way back an hour ago.”

  “Oh, my, god, Corey. Did you get arrested again?”

  “No.” Corey shook her head violently, though Thayer couldn’t see it. “I didn’t I swear. Protective custody more like, maybe.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” she breathed, relieved. “A little frustrated—a lot frustrated.”

  “Hmm. Are you alone?”

  “Yes, for a while now.” She craned her neck around and could just make out the top of Collier’s head not far away as he gave commands to more officers. “I don’t know how long I’m going to be. Please don’t be angry.”

  “I’m not angry, sweetheart. Just disappointed.”

  “Why?” Corey sat up. “What did I miss?”

  “Well, I’ve done my workout and my body is very warm and supple right now—and very sweaty. I can feel drops running down my neck and chest and between my breasts.”

  Corey groaned and slouched down in the hard bench seat, her knees banging into the back of the front seats. “Oh, babe, don’t tell me things like that.”

  “Don’t you want me to take your mind off your current situation? I read somewhere once that police cars are designed to be able to be cleaned easily, like taxis.”

  “Whoa, you are not suggesting what I think you are.” Corey squirmed a little, her jeans feeling a little tighter.

  “Not really. I’m not that kind of girl. I’ll go outside to cool off.”

  “I think they’re wrapping things up here. The parking lot has emptied quite a bit and even some of the police are leaving now.”

  “Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

  “Yes, please.” Corey sighed. “I’m really sorry, babe.”

  “As long as you’re okay I’m…”

  “Thayer?” Corey straightened on the seat.

  “I heard something. I think someone is breaking into the shed. Probably kids or a raccoon or something. Hold on a sec.”

  “Thayer, go back in the house.” Corey ordered across the line, her heart leaping into her throat when she got no reply. “Thayer, can you hear me? Get back in the house, now.”

  “Collier!” She shouted and banged on the glass. “Collier! Steph!” She pressed her face against the cage and closer to the open window. “Oh, god, I need help!”

  “Calm down, Corey.” Steph poked her head through the open driver’s window. “What’s wrong?”

  Corey held up her phone in a shaking hand. “Thayer’s in trouble.” Her voice was trembling. “I think he’s there.”

  “Collier, we need to go. Crandall’s at Thayer’s.” Steph shouted and jumped behind the wheel. “If the connection is still live put it on speaker. Make sure it’s on mute. Hold it up so we can hear it.”

  Collier, to his credit, didn’t hesitate and got on his radio. “Warren, get down the lake in the boat—now. The suspect is at Thayer Reynolds’s place. Consider him armed and dangerous with one hostage.”

  He didn’t wait for a reply and slid into the car. “Go!” He turned to face Corey, concern and rage in his eyes as he pulled out his own phone and hit record in an attempt to capture what he could for evidence. “Hold your phone up.”

  Thayer stopped at the bottom of the deck stairs reconsidering her decision to investigate while barely dressed and barefoot. Even if it was an animal it could be sick or angry and kids causing trouble in the middle of the day seemed suspicious too, especially with the vandalism going on around town.

  She raised the phone to her ear again as a tall, older man in khaki pants, fishing vest, and matching floppy hat came around from the back of the shed.

  He smiled. “Good afternoon.”

  Thayer studied him, a prickle of fear skittering across her skin, taking in the thinning, shaggy hair, sharp features, and dimpled chin. She tensed in recognition and his narrowing eyes were all the warning she got that she was in danger. He was already moving when she turned and bolted back up the steps to the deck.

  She made the mistake of looking ba
ck, which slowed her enough for his long reach to swipe at her legs as she hit the top of the stairs, gripping her bare ankle and sending her crashing forward onto the deck. She turned her head at the last instant, saving her from smashing her teeth out but the side of her face took the hit, stunning her. The phone shot out of her hand and came to rest a few feet away beneath a chair.

  “Corey!” Thayer screamed as she scrambled toward it, tasting blood in her mouth. He was on her fast, pulling her back by the legs across the deck and bringing a knee down across her lower back, pinning her to the deck with his weight.

  “Get off!” she shrieked and struggled to get out from under him.

  “Settle down, young lady.” He increased the pressure against her back and a large calloused hand wrapped around her neck from behind. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Thayer gasped and panted against his weight, her heart hammering in fear. She rolled her eyes to the phone. She could see the time still ticking and knew the connection to Corey was still active. She stilled, gathering her strength. “What do you want?”

  “That’s better.” He eased some of the pressure off her. “I need to get out of here. I had a good thing going here but because of my good-for-nothing nephew and his inability to exercise even a modicum of self-control, the police are looking for me. I expected to be gone before you realized I was ever here. I don’t intend to hurt you but I will if you get in my way. With your cooperation I can get out of here quicker.”

  “What do you want?” Thayer asked again, sliding her arms even with her shoulders and placing her palms against the deck, ready to move as soon as she got the chance.

  “I need fuel,” he replied simply.

  “Fuel?” Thayer wasn’t sure she heard him correctly.

  “Gas for my boat. It’s anchored just up from your place, and I walked the woods along the shoreline to get here. I need fuel and one of your canoe paddles to navigate the outlet to the river. Then I will be away from here and you will be unharmed. Your shed is locked. I assume that’s where you keep it.”