Authors: Mike Jastrzebski
She muttered something about assholes and cavemen as she moved away from me. I waited until she disappeared around the corner before opening the door and stepping into the office.
Easing the door closed behind me I made sure that the latch rested as it had when we’d arrived. If I had to make a quick exit I didn’t want to worry about the lock.
The thick, coppery smell of dried blood permeated the building. Despite the coolness of the night, I found myself wiping sweat from my brow. I could hear the clock over the sofa as it ticked away the seconds and the fluorescent lighting gave the walls a tarnished look.
I crept toward the back office and froze when I heard the distant sound of a siren. I had spent a lot of years chasing criminals but I was uncomfortable with my new role. I was not cut out to be a burglar.
Dragging out my handkerchief, I used it to cover my nose and mouth before opening the office door. My stomach churned and I knew what I was going to find.
I’ve never gotten used to the sight or the smell of violent death. I assumed it was Sam Quinlin’s body sprawled out on the carpet in front of me. This explained why he hadn’t returned any of Jessica’s calls. There was no doubt the man on the floor was dead, there was no need to check for a pulse. I wanted to go through the desk, but the room was small and I couldn’t get around the body without risking stepping in the dead man’s blood.
As I backed into the main office, a deep voice boomed out from behind me. “Don’t touch anything.”
I spun around, tripped, and fought to keep my balance. Before I could tumble backward toward the body, a giant hand shot out and caught my arm.
The man facing me was perhaps six-two with broad shoulders, narrow hips, and arms that seemed almost too long for his body. His brown hair was splashed with gray and tied back in a ponytail. His face was tanned and lined from too many hours spent in the sun. He wore khaki pants and a camouflage hunting jacket.
He pushed me out of the way and bent over the body. “This Quinlin?”
“That’s my guess. You a cop?”
He glared at me. “I look like a cop?”
“No.”
“Good, 'cause if I were a cop I’d be arresting you right about now. Let’s get the hell out of here before one turns up.”
“If you’re not a cop, who are you?”
“I’m your Uncle Roy, son. But we really ain’t got time for introductions right now. The police could be on their way for all we know. Did you touch anything besides the two door knobs?”
“No.”
“Good.” He held out his hand. “Give me your hankie.” I handed it to him and then watched as he wiped the office doorknob and then hustled across the floor to the outer door. He waited until I’d stepped outside, then he wiped that knob before swinging the door closed shut behind him.
“I sent Jessica home,” Roy said. I followed as he began to jog around the building. Ahead I could make out the silhouette of my cousin as she climbed into her car. Parked behind her was a monstrosity of a truck. “You come with me,” he added. “We gotta talk.”
Once we were on our way I asked, “How the hell did you know we were here?”
“Jessica asked me to come along and I told her no. Told her it was a bad idea and made her promise not to do it. I got to thinking about how well Jessica listens so I went looking for her. I didn’t expect her to find some idiot who would go along with her hair-brained idea.”
“Have you ever tried to tell that girl no?”
He looked at me and grinned. “Many times. Like I said, that’s why I came down here myself. She can get herself in trouble without even trying.”
I reached into my pocket, took out my cell phone and opened it.
“Who are you calling?” Uncle Roy asked.
“I was going to call the police. They need to know Sam Quinlin’s dead.”
He reached out and snatched the phone from my hands. “We don’t want them tracing your phone. We can stop at a pay phone if you gotta call, but if I had my druthers, I’d let someone else find the body.”
“Why?”
“I don’t like the government getting involved in my life or my family’s lives. They’re insidious. We don’t have any freedoms any more. The government spies on us constantly. It’s why I don’t ever use the damn cell phone Jessica gave me.”
“And to think, Jessica told me you were crazy.”
“That may be open for discussion. I don’t much like people. I find if I act a little nuts then I get left alone. Jessica’s one of the few people I can stand being around for any length of time. That’s why I wasn’t going to let her get hurt. Or worse.”
“I kept her outside and I would have kept her away if I could have.”
“I know,” he said. “She’s hard-headed, that’s for sure. Drives Ben right up the wall. Where do I need to take you?”
I gave him directions to the Bay View Marina and sat back in the seat. I wasn’t sure whether I was glad that Roy had shown up or not. Sam Quinlin’s murder had ratcheted up my interest. I wished I’d gone through the office, but if the book had ever been there it was likely that whoever killed Quinlin had it now.
This had gone way beyond what Jessica could handle, and it didn’t look like she was going to let it go. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about the family thing; it would take awhile to get used to. But I was involved now, whether I liked it or not.
I might not know who had the book or why Sam Quinlin was dead, but I knew one person who might have some answers—Fish Conners. It was about time he and I had a talk.
Chapter 6
A dark wave of loneliness washed over me as the taillights on Roy’s truck disappeared from view. A northern breeze had picked up and it sent a chill through me like a ghostly omen. I was troubled and perhaps a little confused. I already had a dysfunctional relationship with my mother. Did I really need more relatives cluttering up my life?
I’d grown up without ever knowing this family existed. I was pissed at my mother for not telling me about them, and at Jessica for drawing me into a situation I wasn’t sure I wanted. How do you develop familial feelings for people who were never a part of your life?
I don’t know what I expected when I brought the boat to Mobile, but it wasn’t what I found. There was the gorgeous cousin who spoke like a hillbilly one minute and a well-educated femme fatale the next. Add in an uncle who waited until he was fifty to find his calling as a Catholic priest, and another who looked like an aging hippy. Oh, and let’s not forget the grandfather who was a thief and the father who seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth. I wasn’t sure I could survive meeting my grandmother. I had visions of her sitting in a rocking chair smoking a corncob pipe with a shotgun resting across her knees.
As I headed down the dock I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn’t notice the figure sitting on the bench in front of the closed marina store until a voice called out, “Hey.”
I jumped at the unexpected sound, drew a deep breath, and moved into a protective crouch. To my relief I realized the voice belonged to Cathy.
“Didn’t mean to scare you.” Cathy stood and the movement triggered a motion sensor that switched on a pair of lights situated on either side of the doorway.
“What are you doing out here?” I asked.
She still had on the jeans she’d worn when we were out dancing but she’d added a snug-fitting white sweatshirt with a picture of Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer on the front.
“Waiting for you. I felt bad taking off on you like I did this evening. I walked down to your boat and knocked. When you didn’t answer I came up here to wait. I was just about to head home.”
I noticed an abstract dusting of something dark on the shoulder of the shirt, and without thinking, I brushed it away, and she stepped in close to me. “You’re walking like you’re in pain. I noticed it earlier too, when we were dancing.”
“I had an unexpected visitor last night.” I gave her a quick rundown of what had happened after I left the restaurant.
“Who was it?”
“I think he was a local guy by the name of Fish Conners, but I can’t swear to it.”
Cathy reached out and placed her hand against my chest. When I winced she drew a breath and whispered in a hoarse, excited voice, “Let me see what he did to you.”
The cold air nipped at me as I started to pull up my shirt. She pushed my hands away and lifted the edge herself. “Jesus,” she said.
Her hands were icy, the air cold, and a shiver ran down my body as she unbuttoned my shirt. She touched the largest bruise that started at my belly button and traced it with her finger up across my left nipple to where it ended just below my neckline. “Does it hurt?”
“Not right now,” I said. My heart raced as she opened her hand and placed her palm against the skin of my chest. She moved her lips up to mine and leaned in to kiss me. Her lips had a faint, salty taste.
My body tingled and I returned the kiss. An electric charge ran down to my knees, making them feel weak and useless. Her hair brushed my nose. It tickled and carried the scent of apple blossom shampoo and lingering cigarette smoke from the bar. When she pulled away I swayed as if I’d just chugged a bottle of strawberry wine.
“Come on. I’ll walk you down to your boat,” she said.
Afraid that anything I might say would break the mood, I just nodded. When she took my hand I let her lead me down the dock and into the cockpit of my boat.
As I removed the washboards that covered the doorway she took off my shirt and began to unbuckle my belt. After that it took a conscious effort on my part to snap the plastic door cover in place, and as we entered the cabin she began tugging at my shorts like a playful kitten.
We fumbled with each other’s clothes between kisses, and then stood in the center of the cabin among our scattered clothing, entwined in a hungry embrace. When I couldn’t stand it any longer I put my hands on her shoulders and guided her to the front berth where I watched her appreciatively as she climbed naked into my bed.
I did my best to ignore the pain that racked my body as we made love twice that night. The first time was quick and peppered with wild shouts and energetic maneuverings. The second time was long and slow and tender, and afterward we fell asleep in each other’s arms.
I awoke to a soft knocking on the hull of my boat. “Hold on just a minute,” I called out as I slid off the berth and searched the floor for my shorts. I started to shiver as soon as I moved into the cockpit. I wished I’d grabbed my sweatshirt.
“Hey, Rusty.” I pushed the plastic door covering closed behind me and longed for the warmth of my bed and Cathy’s naked body beneath the covers. Still, I wanted to be neighborly. “I can put on a pot of coffee if you want?”
“No thanks.” He looked down from the dock at my bruised body, and then shifted his attention to meet my eyes. “I’ve got to get going, but I picked up some information on Fish Conners I thought you might like to have.”
I started to reply but hesitated when I saw Rusty’s eyes widen. At the same time, I felt the plastic door cover shift behind me, and Cathy stepped out into the cockpit, crowding me forward.
“How you doing today, Rusty?” she asked. He nodded a greeting and frowned at her.
“Here,” she added, handing me the shirt I had worn the previous evening. “You’ll freeze to death dressed like that.”
I turned to look at her and saw that she was dressed in one of my t-shirts. Her nipples were hard from the cold, and I lost all interest in Fish Conners, or Rusty, for that matter. “You should talk,” I said, as she ducked back into the cabin.
“I didn’t know you two were an item,” Rusty said, as I threw on the shirt.
I made a slight motion with my shoulder, a noncommittal shrug. “Things happen,” I said. “But I’m not sure you could call us an item at this point.”
Rusty shook his head. “Whatever. All I know is that this is going to be prime scuttlebutt for the rumor mongers up at the round table.”
“Cathy must not be too worried about it,” I said. “She didn’t have to come out here and let you see her like that.” I was beginning to feel uncomfortable standing there under his scrutiny, so I shifted his attention back to Fish Conners. “Did you say you had some information for me?”
“Yes sir, I do.” Rusty cleared his throat, turned his head, and spit into the river. “I heard Fish hangs out at a little dive of a bar not far from here. Place called Darlene’s. Friday night’s raw oyster night. Way I hear it Fish loves them, especially when they’re free. Course I also hear tell he drinks enough to more than pay for them.”
“Want to take a ride down there with me tonight?” I asked.
“Sorry, no can do. I gotta go to Biloxi today. Be gone 'till tomorrow, but you’ll have no trouble finding the place. I wrote down the directions.” He reached over, handed me a slip of paper, and spit out of the corner of his mouth again before turning and sauntering down the dock.
“What was that all about?” Cathy was standing in the doorway and to my disappointment she was dressed and looked like she was ready to leave.
“Oysters,” I said. She frowned at my flippancy, and I added, “Rusty knows about this trouble with my cousin and all and he knew I was looking for Fish Conners. He told me where I might be able to find him.”