[Shelby Alexander 04.0] Serenity Submerged

by Craig A. Hart

  As he was trekking back to the Jeep, the box under one arm, his cell rang.

  “Yeah, Fritz.”

  “You got the thing?”

  “The thing has been procured.”

  “How’d you get in? Dig a tunnel?”

  “I went through the window.”

  Fritz snorted. “I never would have guessed you could fit your own bay window through one that size.”

  “Look, I got your damn box. A little respect and gratitude is in order.”

  “Okay, sweet pea. I knew you’d find a way. Now get back to the campground. I got a call from my, what you say, main squeeze.”

  “Val?”

  “No, my other main squeeze. Brenda. The one down at the courthouse. Looks like Wilkes is getting his warrant sooner rather than later.”

  It came as no surprise Wilkes was getting his warrant in record time. Judge McBride had a reputation as a strict law and order character. If he had lived and practiced in the Old West, Shelby mused, McBride’s nickname would likely have been Judge Guilty McHang. No lawbreaker got off easy in his courtroom. “Throwing the book” was not a threat with McBride; it was a way of doing business. Sob stories got no sympathy and deft tap dancing by the defense only made him irritable. In short, anyone hauled in front of Judge McBride for sentencing could bet money they’d get the maximum allowed. Law enforcement loved Judge McBride, not only because of the harsh sentencing, but also because warrants were generally easy to obtain.

  Shelby delayed his return, being a mere few seconds’ drive away, until he saw Fritz’s car turn into the campground. Then he started the Jeep’s engine and followed suit. As he pulled in, he saw Wilkes’ patrol car driving at a rate of speed ill-advised on a back highway in whitetail country. The sheriff’s car blazed up behind the Jeep, pulling so close the entire front grill disappeared from Shelby’s rearview mirror. Shelby tapped his brakes, causing a sharp reaction from Wilkes. Shelby could see Wilkes mouthing a string of profanity at him, but he ignored it and accelerated into the parking lot. The patrol car roared past, spraying dirt and gravel over the Jeep.

  Wilkes shot out of his car, rage contorting his face.

  “I should write you up for careless driving, Alexander!”

  “That’s fine with me, as long as you issue one to yourself. Isn’t tailgating illegal in this state? Oh, wait, I forgot cops are exempt from traffic laws.”

  Wilkes stood and glared, nearly shaking with anger. “One of these days, Alexander. One of these days.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Fritz growled and spat on the ground. “Cut the macho chest-thumping and let’s get this goddamn shit show over with. I got a business to run here. You got the warrant?”

  Wilkes turned reluctantly away from Shelby and produced a folded paper. Fritz took the paper, opened it, then spat again and tossed the paper back.

  “I question the legitimacy of any search warrant granted so quickly, but I’m guessing invoking my rights would only piss you off even more. Here’s the key. Help your selves.”

  Wilkes took the key and spun on his heel. He stalked toward the cabin with Truman following. Fritz and Shelby straggled along behind. The sheriff stuck the key in the lock and twisted. It turned easily.

  “I thought you said the lock was a—what did you call it? A ‘tough customer’?”

  Fritz shrugged. “It has its good days and bad days. Today must be a good day.”

  “It’s the dry weather,” Shelby added.

  Wilkes cast them both a withering glance. “You two are a couple of real stooges, you know that?”

  Both Fritz and Shelby grinned.

  “I’ve been called worse things,” Shelby said. “And I know Fritz has too, because I’m the one who called him worse things.”

  “Just stay outside while we search the cabin.” Wilkes pushed open the door and stepped inside, followed by Truman, who had to stoop and turn sideways to fit through the doorway.

  Once the two officers were out of sight, Fritz nudged Shelby. “Where’s the box?”

  “In my Jeep.”

  “Did you replace the floor?”

  “As best as I could without tools and in the interest of moderate stealth, yes. If they look closely enough, they might notice something, but there’s nothing to discover now anyway.”

  Fritz nodded. “Still. Wilkes is a suspicious bastard.”

  “It’s his job.”

  “He takes it way too far.”

  Fritz was preaching to the choir. Shelby himself had been on the receiving end of Wilkes’ overly ambitious sleuthing. Add to that the sheriff’s inherent dislike of Shelby and what resulted was a rivalry that had made Shelby’s life difficult on more than one occasion.

  After a few minutes of noisy searching, punctuated by the occasional curse from Wilkes, the two cops reappeared.

  “Find anything interesting?” Fritz asked.

  “I did confirm one suspicion,” Wilkes said. “Your campground is a piece of shit.”

  Fritz shrugged. “I’d love to be offended, but I don’t disagree.”

  “Keep everyone out of number five for now. We may want to go back in.” Wilkes turned to his patrol car, then stopped. Without turning back around, he said slowly, “You haven’t done any floor repairs on the cabin recently, have you?”

  Shelby thought Fritz was going to swallow his tongue. The little man chewed on his mustache for a moment and then said, “Why do you ask?”

  “No reason. But know this—we’ll be back.” Wilkes walked to his car, got in, and drove away without so much as a glance back. Truman followed close behind but offered a cursory wave as he pulled out of the lot.

  Shelby watched them go. And felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

  10

  Shelby knocked on Carly’s door, holding a plastic bag of Chinese takeout. Normally, Shelby had one thing on his mind when he stood on Carly’s front porch, but Fritz’s series of revelations had knocked him cold. The door opened and Carly smiled out at him.

  “Hi there,” she said. “What’s in the bag?”

  “Never mind. What the hell are you wearing? Or should I say, what the hell aren’t you wearing?”

  “Like it?”

  “I think so,” Shelby said, “but there’s so little of it, it’s hard to tell.”

  “Come on in.” She stepped aside to let him enter. Once he was inside, she shut the door, stepped away, and performed a perfect model’s turn. “It’s my latest creation. I have a project due by the end of the week and finally got a burst of inspiration late last night.”

  Shelby took in the outfit. Crafted of brightly patterned floral material, the dress—if that’s indeed what it was—was certainly eye-catching. The skirt barely reached mid-thigh, the neckline plunged almost to the navel, and the back was—well, there didn’t seem to be a back.

  “I’ve heard of strapless dresses,” Shelby marveled, “but this is the first time I’ve seen a strapless, backless, skirtless, and frontless dress. I’m not being critical, mind you. It’s an amazing piece of work. And you look amazing in it. How the hell does it stay on? Or stay together?”

  “That was the hard part.” A gleam showed up in Carly’s eye. “Although I’m guessing there’s a new one of those now.”

  “Naughty girl.”

  “Would you like me any other way?”

  “I’d like you any way, although you do have certain charms all your own.”

  “You’re sweet. As I was saying, the hard, er, difficult part was getting the design right. It’s something of an illusion, giving the viewer much the same reaction as you had. Yes, it’s sexy, but it’s a delicate balance of design techniques.”

  “Well, color me impressed. You get an A plus.”

  “Let’s hope the instructor sees it the same way. She’s a tough grader, but that’s why I wanted this particular class. I wanted to be challenged.”

  “From what I’ve seen of your work, you are more than rising to it. Of course, I’m not exact
ly versed in the art of design, but I can tell quality when I see it. And you’re good at this.”

  “Thanks, Shel.” Carly gave him a big squeeze. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Something in her tone gave Shelby pause. It had a strange, wistful sound, as if her words portended bad news. He decided not to press the matter, but instead held up the bag he carried.

  “Hungry?”

  “Famished. I haven’t eaten all day. I got so engrossed in finishing this project I completely forgot to eat.”

  “How does Chinese strike you?”

  “Sounds amazing. I’ll go slip into something more comfortable.” She started for the bedroom and then said over her shoulder, “And I mean exactly that. It’s a stretched-out t-shirt and sweatpants evening for me.”

  Shelby feigned hurt feelings. “As if I would assume anything else. You know I don’t approve of double entendre.”

  “Too mature for such things?”

  “Precisely. If I wish to become intimate with a woman, I simply tell her so.”

  “Ah, I see. And how many restraining orders are pending against you?”

  “You mean this week? Or overall?”

  Carly laughed and teased him with a saucy toss of her head before disappearing down the hallway.

  A vein throbbed on the side of Simon’s head and his face darkened. He stared at Wilkes as if he wanted to rip him in two. “I knew this would happen. Ever heard of the element of surprise, genius? You can throw that out the damn window. We’ll be fortunate if Ballard is anywhere in the Midwest by tomorrow.” He turned away and, in a sudden fit, drove his fist through the wall, leaving a gaping hole in the drywall. He turned back, his face now almost black with rage. “I ought to kill you, you stupid pig.”

  Wilkes stepped forward and brought the edge of his rigid hand across Simon’s throat. Simon dropped to his knees, retching and gasping for breath. Wilkes kicked him in the chest, driving the fallen man onto his back. He leaned over Simon and smiled down at him.

  “Don’t you ever threaten me again, you piece of shit. I will put you under so fast you won’t have time to piss. I’ve put up with your bullshit long enough. Stay in your place or I’ll put you there.” Wilkes said all this in a voice so calm, he might have been ordering fries and a burger with extra onion.

  Behind the sheriff, Frank edged his hand toward a pistol on the table. From his position on the floor, Simon saw his intention and shook his head through a fit of coughing. Wilkes saw the minute shake and whipped around, his sidearm appearing in his hand. Frank jerked back and covered his face with his arms, as if that would somehow protect him from a bullet.

  “Wilkes...wait—” Simon pushed himself to his hands and knees, and then struggled to his feet. “Let’s—we can talk—about this. Just—stop—everyone.” He sat down on the bed to regain his breath.

  Wilkes stood, frozen in a shooting stance, his eyes drilling holes through Frank. Time hung suspended and everything was quiet, save a few wheezing breaths from Simon.

  “I got a little carried away,” Simon said, recovering enough to speak without almost passing out. “I apologize. I was angry about the loss of surprise, that’s all.”

  Wilkes relaxed slowly and replaced his sidearm. “I wasn’t telling them anything they didn’t already know. I figured I would at least throw a scare into them, maybe force a mistake.”

  Simon glanced at Frank. “What do you mean ‘them’? Who else knows?”

  “Alexander was there. He’s always there.”

  “Shelby Alexander? Shit!”

  Wilkes shook his head in disgust. “You all have Alexander on a pedestal. I can handle that old shit. Trust me.”

  Over white rice and Mongolian beef, Shelby and Carly talked more about her education. Shelby had never seen her as alive as when she discussed design. Her face alight, eyes sparkling, she spoke animatedly about the industry, using terms and vocabulary Shelby could only assume referenced trends and techniques. He nodded, watching her with a mixture of pride and sadness. Pride because she was at last following her heart and sadness because he couldn’t help feeling what she loved would pull them apart. Shelby had never been to a fashion show and never paid any attention to design. He’d considered it something of an indulgence and wasteful extravagance. But he knew Carly was good at this. Her enthusiasm meant something, but she had that extra spark obvious to even Shelby’s untrained eye. And he knew Serenity would never come close to containing her talent or satisfying her ambitions.

  Over wine from a second bottle, Carly fell silent, a marked difference from the torrent of words throughout the meal. She pushed her plate away and leaned on the table with one arm, the other holding the wine glass. She swirled the dark red liquid and stared into its depths.

  Shelby watched her, chewing slowly. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  Carly didn’t look up. When she spoke, her voice had lost the ebullience of moments before. “You know the instructor I mentioned?”

  “The tough grader?”

  “Yes. She’s affiliated with a big designer in New York who’s looking for interns over the summer.”

  Shelby set down his utensils, his appetite gone. He sat quietly, waiting for her to continue.

  “The two top students in this class are going have a shot at an internship.” Carly looked at Shelby, her eyes shining with both excitement and tears. “Shelby—this would be a once in a lifetime chance. But I’m scared.”

  “Scared you’ll get it or scared you won’t?”

  “Both. It would mean leaving Serenity, of course. And I have no idea when I’d be able to come back.”

  Never, Shelby thought. If Carly ever left for the glamour of the New York fashion scene, she’d never be back. He’d probably never see her again. Of course, she’d leave with well-intended words about staying in touch, the viability of a long-distance relationship, and promises of coming back to visit soon. She wouldn’t keep any of the promises. The city would turn her head, she’d make new friends, and discover a world beyond her wildest dreams.

  Carly shook her head, as if dismissing a ridiculous thought. “I doubt I’ll get it, though. There are a lot of talented people trying for the top spots in the class. I just wanted to let you know. In case something crazy happened.” She cleared her throat, drained her wine glass, and stood, suddenly all business. “I don’t know if I’d even accept it. What the hell would I do in New York?” She emitted a short, almost desperate laugh. “I’m a small-town girl.”

  Shelby gave her a smile he fervently hoped didn’t look as forced as it felt.

  “Haven’t you ever watched movies? The small-town girl always conquers the big city.”

  Carly laughed again, this time more freely. “If life were like the movies, a lot of things would be different.”

  “Dreams sometimes come true in real life too.” Shelby pushed his chair back and stood up. “Speaking of the movies, why don’t you choose one for us and I’ll do a quick wash on these dishes.”

  After Wilkes left, Frank got up from his chair and began pacing the small motel room. “That piece of shit. I’d like to shove his face in a bucket of hot grease.”

  “He’ll get his,” Simon said, “although we might not be the ones to give it to him, as much pleasure as that would give me.”

  “We’re going ahead with the plan?”

  “We’re going ahead but not with the plan. We now have a new plan. I never liked the idea of being weighed down by Wilkes’ idiotic methodology. That whole plan was designed to cover his ass after Ballard bites it. You and I don’t give a rat’s dick about the aftermath; we’ll be gone. And if Wilkes is going to play the big man, we’ll let him pick up the pieces.”

  “When do we move?”

  “If Ballard has half a brain, he’s either running for the hills or setting up an arsenal. We have to work fast, which means moving tonight.”

  “Tonight!”

  “Is that a problem?”

  Frank shook his head slowly. �
��It’s only—if we screw this up—”

  “We won’t screw it up. All we have to do is get the mark to tell us the location of the money and the body, and we’re done here. All Wilkes has done is complicate what should be a relatively easy job.”

  “Should I get Trainwreck?”

  “Yes. Knock before going in. You don’t want to piss off both him and that woman. Truck still parked out back?”

  Frank patted his pocket. “Got the keys right here.”

  “Give them to me. While you’re getting Trainwreck, I’ll load this stuff into the truck.” Simon motioned to the two suitcases, one open and the other still closed.

  Frank nodded and disappeared out the door.

  Shelby took longer on the dishes than necessary. He needed time to gather his thoughts. He’d been thinking about his relationship with Carly for some time now, wondering how it could ever end well, and knowing that end it almost certainly would. For Carly, an attractive woman half Shelby’s age, there was no benefit to hitching her wagon to his for the long haul. He had no fame or fortune. He prided himself on being good in the sack but was realistic enough to know he wasn’t the hard-bodied powerhouse he’d once been. And while he wasn’t typically insecure, he knew Carly’s head would be turned in New York—and probably for the better.

  He rinsed the final dish and set it in the drying rack. He took a deep breath before pasting on a smile and moving into the main room where Carly was waiting on the couch. On the television was a frozen image of an opening studio sequence, paused and awaiting his arrival. He sat down heavily on the couch and Carly moved in closer, burrowing next to him and pulling his arm around her shoulders.

  “That was a big sigh,” she said.

  “Did I sigh?”

  “Anything wrong?”