Any resemblance to persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Feeding Gators © 2014 by Gen Griffin
All rights reserved.
Edited by Liz Bleau
Published by Soaring Eagle Books
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ISBN: 978-0-9912732-3-2
GEN GRIFFIN
Feeding Gators
Soaring Eagle Books
OFFICES: Florida & Tennessee USA
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
For Stephen. You are the best husband and father that a girl could ask for. I love you.
*
Prologue
The moonshine still had been hidden in the depths of the bayou since Prohibition. The water around the still was rippled with barely visible cypress knees and infested with alligators. David suspected the original proprietors of the still had chosen the tiny spit of land deep in the swamp because even the most dedicated lawman would have to think twice about risking life and limb to reach the still. Even the best quality batch of white lighting wasn’t worth dying for.
David had chosen the location for the same reason the moonshiners had. Even the most dedicated lawman would be hesitant to come looking for evidence in the bellies of alligators, deep in depths of the swamp.
The murky creek water was blacker than the night surrounding David as he carefully guided his small boat down a narrow slew without the benefit of lights. The chirps and croaks of the swamp at night filled the air. On any other night, he would have reveled in his ability to blend flawlessly into the predatory darkness.
Tonight, he just wanted to dump his cargo into the depths of the alligator infested bayou and go home. He kicked aside the package of thick hooks and nylon rope that he’d loaded into the boat. He didn’t need the gear, but he’d rather have it on hand just in case someone wanted to know what he was doing. If anyone caught him, he’d tell them he was poaching a few alligators out of season. It wasn’t like he’d get in trouble for poaching. There were benefits to being best friends with the game warden.
The deep, croaking mating call of a bull gator sounded from somewhere close to trees. David reached down to the floor of the boat and picked up a raw, bloody chunk of meat with his bare hand. He tossed the meat in the gator’s direction. It landed in the water with a splash that David suspected only sounded loud to him. He reached down and took another handful of meat, this time choosing to toss it to the right of the boat. He wished he could use his spotlight to find the gators, but he couldn’t risk being seen tonight. He was going to have to rely on a lifetime of memories and his instinct to find the right hiding places.
The slew he traveled through had plenty of gators in its own right, but it was the moonshiner’s still that was David’s final destination. He dropped bits and pieces of blood and bone into the water as he slowly eased his boat through the darkness. A bread crumb trail for the alligators. He knew the predators would follow after the bloody scent of wounded prey. The raw meat would create a feeding frenzy amongst the hungry alligators. David hoped to be gone by the time the reptiles ran out of dead meat and began to tear living chunks of bleeding hide off of one another.
A loud splash echoed off of the bank of the creek, less than 10 feet away from where he was sitting in his boat. He hesitated for only a moment before he flung a large chunk of meaty flesh into the wake. The metal of the still glinted brightly in the moonlight as the cloud cover shifted. He caught sight of a long, dark silhouette in the water. It was heading his way.
David took a deep breath and stood up in the boat, careful to keep his weight evenly distributed so that the little boat did not tip. He used both his hands to grasp one of the large white buckets he had been transporting. With a well-aimed thrust, he launched the contents of the bucket out into the depths of the water. The approaching alligator stopped abruptly as meat rained down across the creature’s broad back. David nearly laughed as he picked up the second bucket and prepared to let the gators devour every bite of the evidence of a crime he hadn’t committed.
*
Gracie Malone wondered how long Austin’s body could stay in the BMW before it started to smell. She was betting he wouldn’t keep long enough for her to come up with a reasonable explanation as to how he’d wound up dead in the backseat of his own car. She didn’t think she could come up with a reasonable explanation even if she had a hundred years to lie about it.
She’d rolled all four of the sedan’s windows down as far as they could go, but the car still smelled awful. The coppery odor of Austin’s blood mixed with her own vomit had overwhelmed the fruity air freshener that was attached to the rearview mirror. Gracie was freezing cold, but the awful smell made her gag every time she even thought about rolling the windows even halfway up. She’d turned on the heater, but it wasn’t helping. The night air was damp and miserably cold against her bare skin. She wished she had brought had a jacket. Or worn a t-shirt. Or just stayed home tonight. Staying home tonight would definitely have been the right choice.
A heavy fog had settled over all the low lying parts of the deserted two-lane highway. Gracie could barely see the road ahead of her as the luxury car glided across the unlit pavement. She glanced down at the speedometer. She was going 5 miles under the speed limit, a less than breathtaking 55 miles an hour. If she hadn’t been terrified, she’d have been going even slower. Deer liked to stand in the middle of Highway 80. Her brother had managed to hit three of them in the past two years, right on this very road.
Hitting a deer would be a disaster, unless she could convince the cops that Austin had died when she hit the deer. Maybe she should hit a deer and tell the police that Austin died in the accident. Except they probably wouldn’t believe her. Any wreck that could be blamed for killing Austin would have to be severe enough to kill her too. Besides, the time of death wouldn’t match up and Gracie knew enough from watching crime shows on TV to know that the police would be able to tell Austin had been dead hours before the accident. The cops would know what happened. Maybe. Or maybe not. Gracie had been sitting in the passenger seat when Austin died, and she still wasn’t quite sure what had happened.
Gracie frowned and ran back over the events of the last four hours in her mind, trying to pinpoint the exact moment when her entire life had gone to Hell in her Granny Pearl’s proverbial hand basket. She stared at the foggy road that stretched ahead of her for miles, but she wasn’t seeing the road. She was seeing Austin’s pretty, meaningless smile as he’d tried to cop a cheap feel on her while they had waited for their food in the Take-A-Taco drive-thru. They had been at Take-A-Taco when Austin had stuck her with the bill. The night had gone to Hell from there.
Four Hours Earlier
“You are one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever seen, but your mouth makes you ugly.” Austin Putterling pouted unhappily at Gracie across the dimly lit interior of his overpriced BMW. “That hurt, by the way.” He stuck his fingertips in his mouth and sucked on them. Gracie wasn’t surprised his hand hurt.
“When a girl tells you to stop trying to stick your hand up her skirt, you should stop trying to stick your hand up her skirt.” Gracie shrug
ged, not feeling the least bit sorry. Her thigh stung where she’d smacked her heavy leather purse down on top of Austin’s creepy crawly fingers. He’d been trying to slip his hand under the hemline of her skirt without her noticing. She’d noticed and her reaction had been instinctive.
“Tonight was supposed to be magical. You aren’t letting the magic happen.” Austin gave her another baleful, disapproving glare.
“Magic?” Gracie couldn’t help laughing at him. “We’re at Take-A-Taco. In the drive-thru.”
“What’s wrong with Take-A-Taco?” Austin asked, appearing genuinely insulted.
“Nothing. Unless you think it’s magical. The only thing magical about a .29-cent taco special is that they managed to put any meat in the tortilla for that price.” Gracie debated whether explaining herself further was worthwhile and then decided Austin Putterling wasn’t worth the effort. She shook her head and pulled a hair tie out of her purse. She twisted her long blonde hair up into a ponytail, not caring if she messed up the delicate curls she’d spent two hours and a whole can of cheap hairspray creating. “You promised to take me out for a nice dinner tonight.”
“You’re mad about paying for your own food, aren’t you?” Austin reached for her arm and attempted to stroke her shoulder. She leaned closer to the door to avoid him, but the car just wasn’t wide enough. His fingers were clammy when they brushed against her arm. She didn’t like the feel of his hands on her overexposed skin.
Of course, her skin wouldn’t have been overexposed if Gracie hadn’t let her roommate, Brittany, humiliate her into ditching her favorite tight jeans and paisley print halter top for a too tiny, too tight black skirt and a silky black spaghetti strap blouse that fit so snugly it looked like it had been painted on. The skirt was so short that Gracie couldn’t have gotten away with using it as a swimsuit cover-up back home. Black faux leather knee boots completed the ensemble. Brittany said that if Gracie wanted to impress Austin, she needed to look like a woman, not a redneck. Gracie thought the clothes Brittany had chosen for her made her look like Hooker Barbie. Apparently, so did Austin. He had been shamelessly trying to grope her since they had left campus.
“Refusing to pay for my taco definitely isn’t helping your cause,” she informed Austin as she shook his caressing hand off of her arm. She gritted her molars together as the car inched forward through the drive-thru lane.
“A lot of girls only want to date me because I have money.” Austin seemed to feel the need to remind Gracie once every couple of minutes that he was rich. “Making girls pay for their own shit is my way of weeding out all the gold diggers, you know?”
“Asking a girl out to dinner and then telling her she has to pay for her own $3 meal is just plain rude. I don’t care who you are.” Gracie eyed Austin warily.
He caught her watching him and smiled, displaying an astounding amount of expensive dental work. He was handsome, but Gracie wasn’t impressed by State University’s most notorious playboy. Thirty minutes of unwanted groping had killed off any excitement Gracie had felt about being asked out on a date by one of the most popular guys on campus. She felt absolutely nothing for this sandy haired, blue-eyed boy. No stir of eagerness or anticipation. No desire, despite months of sexual frustration. Her older brother Addison had asked her earlier if she was going crazy yet. In truth, she had broken through the barrier on crazy months ago and was now rapidly moving on to desperate. Desperate enough to take Austin Putterling up on his invitation to go out to dinner. Not desperate enough to let him jam his stubby little fingers past her silky black and red thong. Even desperate had its limits.
“What can I do to make you want me?” Austin put his hand back on her thigh, his fingertips once again brushing the hem of her skirt. Gracie picked his hand up and shoved it back into his own lap.
“Nothing,” Gracie admitted as she shook her head at him. Gracie had never actually wanted Austin. She’d only agreed to go on a date with Austin Putterling because she was bored, and she knew it would make her miserable nightmare of a roommate horribly jealous.
Calvin Walker was the only guy Gracie had ever wanted. Austin sure as hell wasn’t Cal. Maybe it wasn’t fair of her to compare Austin to Cal, but she was finding it impossible not to. Gracie had been comparing every guy she’d met at State University to Cal. None of them measured up.
Cal always knew how to make her want him. He could sit there behind the wheel of his truck and give her that come-on-over-here grin he’d been using since Little League and she’d practically melt into the ripped cloth seats of his jacked-up Chevy 1500.
The shiny new BMW just didn’t turn her on the way Cal’s Chevy did. Austin definitely didn’t turn her on the way Cal did. He wasn’t in Cal’s league. He wasn’t even playing in the same ballpark.
“Nothing?” Austin repeated her with a distinct tone of disbelief as he moved ahead in the drive-thru lane by a single car-length. He pulled his hand back off of her thigh and began fidgeting restlessly with the collar on his $350 baby blue golf shirt. His phone chimed in his pocket.
“You have no manners,” Gracie informed him, not caring at all if she hurt his feelings. “You told me you didn’t have a girlfriend, but it’s obvious you lied. Your phone keeps going off with either a call or a text every couple of minutes.”
“I told you, I was talking to my Mom.” Austin frowned as he replied to the text message he’d just received.
“You’re a lousy liar. No one talks to their Mom about what she’s wearing under her dress.” Gracie wrinkled her nose at him in disgust. “Besides, I’m definitely not into dating drug dealers.”
Austin’s head jerked up and he nearly dropped the phone. “Hey, I am not-”
“Save your breath.” Grace waved one hand in the air dismissively. “I have ears. I can hear what you’re telling the people who are calling you looking for a pill hook-up. You’re obviously supplying damn near everyone on campus.”
“I have connections,” Austin explained. He didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed of himself. “It’s good pocket money.”
“I imagine,” Gracie said as she rolled her eyes.
“You know, I can give you a little something to improve your mood,” Austin told her with a bold smile. “I have a bottle full of little white pills that will have you screaming my name in ecstasy before the end of the night.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.” Gracie didn’t try to hide her disgust. “I’m done.”
“Done?” Austin repeated the word as a question as he drummed his fingers against the custom leather steering wheel cover.
“Done.” She double checked her purse to make sure her wallet and keys hadn’t spilled out during the drive. Riding in the passenger’s seat of Austin’s car reminded Gracie of riding an old wooden roller coaster without the safety benefit of being the only thing on the tracks.
“Don’t be mean.” Austin reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Let’s just start over, okay?”
“No thanks.” She reached for the door handle as his phone chirped again to announce the arrival of the seventh text message in as many minutes. “You aren’t the kind of guy I thought you were. I’m just not interested.”
“You haven’t even given me a chance.” He feigned hurt feelings as he made another attempt to get hold of her wrist. She reached for the handle on the door.
“I’m not being mean. I’m being honest. You’re not my type. I don’t see a future with you and I’m not a short-term relationship kind of girl, okay?”
Austin’s gaze flickered over her and she could see the irritation in his expression. “I don’t think you understand how this works.”
“Have a nice night, Austin. I’ll find my own way back to the dorm from here.” She tugged on the door handle. It took her a minute to process that the car had automatically locking doors. She pressed the unlock button on the armrest. Nothing happened. She pressed the button again. Still nothing. She turned back to Austin. “Why won’t this door open?”
“It’s locke
d. The only one who locks and unlocks the doors on my car is me. Sorry.” Austin didn’t look at all sorry.
“Not funny, Austin. Let me out.” Gracie was more annoyed than angry. She very much wished she didn’t bite her nails as she examined the locking mechanism on the door. She wondered if manually unlocking the door would override whatever he’d had done to keep her from being able to open it. She decided it was worth a try.
“You realize you’re going to get mugged and raped if you try to walk through this neighborhood alone at night.” Austin rubbed her wrist gently as he pretended to genuinely care about her safety.
“I’ll take my chances.” Gracie snatched her arm away from his manipulative caressing. Did he really think she wanted to walk three miles in a pair of cheaply made faux leather knee boots?
The car inched ahead in the drive-thru line on its own accord, nearly running into the bumper of the Ford truck ahead of them. Austin remembered to press the brake pedal with a quarter of an inch to spare.
His phone went off again. He looked down at the display on his phone and hurriedly put it back in his pocket.
It took Gracie a minute to wedge her fingers under the lock and pull it to the unlocked position. She tried the door handle again. Nothing happened.
“You’re not getting out unless I decide to let you out.” Austin laughed.
“Look, you have about thirty seconds to unlock this door.” Gracie was beyond aggravated.
“Or what?” Austin taunted her.
“Or I’m going to scream bloody murder and say I’m being kidnapped when you pull up to the window to pay for your food.” She gestured at the window that was a mere two cars away. “I’m sure your uncle’s campaign manager would love having to explain why the governor’s nephew is kidnapping girls. That backpack full of pills in the back seat is perfectly legal, right?”
Austin’s hazy blue eyes got wide. “You wouldn’t.”
Feeding Gators: Book 1 in the Shiner's Bayou Series Page 1
