Read 2 Dog River Blues Online

Authors: Mike Jastrzebski

2 Dog River Blues (25 page)

“What happened to the car?” I asked.

“Had another friend tow it away. Took it to a junk yard where the policy is ask no questions.”

“And Rusty?”

 
“I borrowed a boat and took the body up the Mobile River to a deserted cutoff I know of,” he said after awhile. “Daddy used to take me up there to fish when I was a boy. You can’t get to it except by boat, and then only if you know how to get in.”

“You don’t think anyone will find him?”

“Lots of gators out there. Not too many people. I weighed the body down pretty good. Even if they find him someday there won’t be much left. No reason for the cops to come looking for us.”

He sounded more confident than I felt. I was growing drowsy, and before I could thank him, I dropped back off to sleep.

 

Epilogue

It was April Fool’s Day by the time I got away from Mobile. The temperatures had been slowly rising and after a week of rain the sun was up, there was a nice breeze, and Mobile Bay was as smooth as a sheet of ice.

My shoulder had healed nicely but my leg was still a little stiff. When I first stepped on it in the mornings the nerve endings felt as if they were on fire, but after moving around a little the pain would ease. Roy’s doctor friend had given me some medication and a list of exercises. I’d been exercising every day and it seemed to help. I put the medication away and decided I’d only dig it out if the pain became unbearable.

The plan was to cross the bay and take the Intracoastal Waterway to Apalachicola, Florida. From there we’d take three overnight sails, stopping in Clearwater, Ft. Myer’s Beach, and ending up in Key West.

As I steered the boat out of Dog River and under the Dauphin Island Parkway Bridge, I heard the phone ring. I ignored it and set my attention to the channel markers up ahead. Ten minutes later, Jessica stepped out of the cabin. She had a cup of coffee in each hand, a smile on her face, and was wearing a Brazilian bikini that would have been ruled indecent in at least half-a-dozen states.

She handed me one of the cups and sat down next to me. “I just got off the phone with Uncle Roy.”

“What did he want?”

Jessica took a sip of her coffee and made a face. “The State Department is sending someone to pick up the manuscript. They found the owner. Some abbey in France. He said Gran is anxious to get rid of the thing after all the trouble it’s caused.”

We sat there and enjoyed the peace and quiet of Mobile Bay. Ten minutes later, she broke my heart. “Uncle Roy also said the confirmation of my summer class schedule came too.”

I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. “You don’t have to go, you know. There’s plenty of room for two on board. It doesn’t have to be just a six week trip to the Keys. It’s a big world and there’s lots of water to sail on. We could spend the summer on the Chesapeake, or in Maine.”

Jessica took my hand, turned it up, and ran her thumb across the palm. “And then what? We’re too young to be retired. Where’s the money going to come from?”

I thought about the stash of diamonds I had hidden in a secret cubby under the front berth. A small fortune I’d recovered a few months earlier when I’d reluctantly tracked down the thief.

“I’ve got some money put aside,” I said.

“I’m not willing to be a kept woman,” Jessica said. “Besides, I hated dropping out last semester. I want my degree, but after Granddaddy died and the manuscript was stolen I missed too many classes. If I take summer classes I’ll be done by the end of the year."
 

“Then what?”

 
“I don’t know, Wes. I always thought I’d teach. I don’t see myself traveling from port to port never feeling I’m at home.”

Jessica let go of my hand and stood up. She looked back toward the Dog River and I knew I wasn’t going to win this argument. I gave it one more try. “I thought home was where the heart is.”

“It is.” She spoke so softly that I barely heard her next words. “My home is Mobile. Can you see yourself settling down there? Buying a house? Having children?”

“Probably not.”

Jessica looked down at me. “That’s why I never suggested it. You’re a wanderer, Wes. A hundred and fifty years ago you would have been heading west or maybe taking a ship to Australia. I like that about you. But it’s not for me.”

“So what do we do?” I asked.

She reached down, grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. “We enjoy the two months we have together. If I remember right, you were going to teach me how to sail.”

The End

***

Other books by Mike Jastrzebski:

Key Lime Blues (A Wes Darling Mystery)

The Storm Killer

To learn more about or to contact Mike, visit his website:

 

http://www.mikejastrzebski.com

Mike’s Blog:
http://www.writeonthewater.com

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