The Alex Troutt Thrillers: Books 1-3 (Redemption Thriller Series Box Set)

by John W. Mefford

  But dammit, when he gripped my shoulders, then wrapped me in his arms and pressed his lips to mine, he was all man. Nothing immature or kid-like about him. He was serious, yet gentle. The sizzle was palpable, but I also felt more deeply connected to him in a way I couldn’t recall with Mark. Brad actually seemed more mature, maybe because he came across as approachable, so open with his thoughts and feelings. It just added to his sex appeal.

  A week in Padre is just what the doctor ordered.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  I’d just reached the finish line of my run. Raising both arms over my head, I kept walking as I panted from the extra push I’d made at the end. I knew I had heard Luke’s voice, but I didn’t see him right away.

  “Over here,” he said, peeking out from behind a hairy old man.

  With his green Celtics cap flipped backward on his head, Luke returned his attention to the big man.

  I sidled up to the pair.

  “And while there have been plenty of rumors, no one has ever found the money,” the man said.

  “Wow, holy sh—”

  “Hey now,” I said while still catching my breath.

  “I was going to say holy shoot.”

  I pinched his arm. “Yeah, right.”

  “Ooh, gross, Mom.” He started giggling. “You’re sweating like a pig. Are you okay?” His deep brown eyes seemed to be scanning my face.

  “Just had a good workout, Luke. It feels great, by the way. Who’s this?”

  The man extended his hand and dipped his head slightly. “I’m Rex, although most people call me Captain Rex.”

  I gave him a quick handshake so he wouldn’t be equally grossed out by my sweat, then sized him up a bit. His silver and white hair poked out from under his blue bucket hat, and his face was full of scruff. With a few soft creases in the right spots and reflective, gray eyes, he had a gentle nature about him, even if he was over six feet tall and north of two hundred fifty pounds. He wore a cut-off T-shirt with some faded logo on it. That silver hair also covered his arms and legs. He must be straight from the baboon family, or is that what happens to a man when he gets really, really old?

  “Alex. Nice to meet you. And you know my little one here, Luke,” I said.

  “Yep, he’s quite inquisitive.” Rex released a Santa-like chuckle as he removed his hat and wiped his forehead. “He just saw me meandering down the beach and started asking me lots of questions, starting with why I was walking around with this.” He held up a long, metal pole with a disc attached to the end.

  “A metal detector. You must be looking for coins, maybe a lost treasure,” I said with a laugh.

  Rex smirked, but it was Luke who spoke up.

  “How did you know, Mom? That’s exactly what he’s looking for.”

  Still panting a bit, it took a moment for Luke’s words to resonate. I wiped a drop of sweat off my nose and shifted my eyes to Rex, who was obviously a crackpot, or at least enjoyed telling fables to kids.

  Rex shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true.”

  I tried to smile, thinking he would follow my lead and admit he was just playing a joke on us. Instead, he arched a bushy eyebrow and drew his peeling lips in a straight line. “I’m sure you’re thinking I’m just an old coot with nothing better to do than rustle up a pot full of lies.”

  I almost cracked up at his use of the term “rustle up.” Only in Texas.

  “I’m sure you understand that I don’t want Luke thinking he’s going to stumble over a lost treasure, then kick back and coast through life without a worry in the world.”

  “Mom, it’s not—”

  “Luke, I’m talking to Rex.”

  “It’s Captain Rex,” Luke said.

  I shifted my eyes in my son’s direction, then back to…Captain Rex.

  “I don’t mean to create any family discord. I was just sharing with Luke why I’m out here. You can pay me no attention and go on with your lives.”

  He tipped his cap and began to turn.

  “Captain Rex, did I tell you my mom is an FBI agent? This Brinks robbery you told me about in Boston—that’s where we’re from.”

  I wanted to put tape over Luke’s mouth. I’d told the kids in no uncertain terms that the details of my day job were not to be shared with just anyone they came across. But he did get my attention, even if he was citing a historical crime from the twentieth century.

  Rex whirled around. “FBI, huh? You might be able to shed some light on all this, if you have the clearance to tell me.”

  I gave him a wry grin. “It’s in the history books. Four guys robbed a Brinks armored truck in 1950. I think they stole about two and half million—”

  “Two point seven,” Rex said. “Sorry for interrupting.”

  “Two point seven million,” I repeated. “Most of it was never recovered, if I recall. And no, I’m not in the loop on every seventy-six-year-old cold case originating in Boston.”

  “So I guess you’re not aware that one of the men involved in the robbery showed up in South Padre in 1959, nine years after the heist, and then lived here in peace for seven years before dying in a strange set of circumstances.”

  Was this guy for real? “No, I wasn’t aware of that. But even if it’s true, you think he buried his portion of the cash under the sand?”

  “I’ve spoken to lots of people. I’ve been working on a book, doing lots of research. He actually had about a million dollars, since he was the one who hatched the plan. And he didn’t bury the cash. Two other theories are out there: one being that he traded in his cash for gold bullion, and the other being that he swapped the cash for a large number of priceless coins. Either way, he purchased a metal chest that had a seal on it to keep the water out, about yay big.” He used his hairy hands to outline a box that might fit an oversized Vera Bradley beach bag.

  While I was mildly intrigued with his theories and research, and given the right set of circumstances might be inclined to ask a few follow-up questions, it wasn’t right for Luke to be led to believe there was a realistic chance of finding anything other than pennies, bottle caps, or ankle bracelets.

  I glanced down at a mound of sand and pushed through it with my running shoe. A memory from my past had just escaped from one of the few remaining dark spots left over from my amnesia: my high school boyfriend had actually given me an ankle bracelet for some type of special occasion. The night before I left for college, we buried it in the sand and said that if we were ever meant to be together, we’d meet up at that same location twenty years later to the day and dig until we found it.

  I scratched my chin and figured it had been almost twenty-one summers earlier. Then I caught a whiff of body odor and quickly realized it was me.

  “We gotta run, Luke.” I rested my hand on his shoulder.

  “But Mom, I want to partner with Captain Rex and try to find the lost treasure. This could be your ticket to freedom, to retire, enjoy the good life.”

  I let out a snort before my hand reached my face, but his comment warmed my heart. My little man wanted to do something kind for his mom. “I can take care of myself, bud. But thank you for the consideration.”

  “Think about it, Mom. A life with no stress. We could live on the beach forever!” He splayed his arms as if he were about to hug the ocean.

  Damn, he was cracking me up, but I knew we had a better chance of winning the lottery than finding a chest full of gold or priceless coins. “Okay, mister, let’s…”

  He took a step away from me and folded his arms. “Mom, you’ve got to be reasonable.”

  “You listen to your momma, now.”

  Lucky for Luke that Captain Rex spoke up before I gave my son an ultimatum he wouldn’t appreciate: zip it and fall in line or lose access to your phone for a day.

  Captain Rex had Luke’s attention, so the old man ran with it. “I’m sure you’ll see me out here another day. I’ll keep you in the loop on what I find…if that’s okay with your momma.”

  Two sets of eyes stared me
down.

  I conceded with, “If we happen to run into, uh, Captain Rex, he can talk to you about his treasure hunt.”

  Luke and Rex gave each other high-fives, and then the captain flipped his metal detector back on and shuffled away while sticking in an earbud. I guess he couldn’t be too careful in his quest to find this mythical treasure that hadn’t turned up in eighty-odd years. Who was I kidding? Odds were the money had been spent long ago on cars, homes, and clothes. Hell, these days, that kind of money wouldn’t take long to burn through. I’d dropped over five hundred dollars alone just to get the kids updated swimsuits and beach attire.

  “Hey, where’s your sister?” I asked Luke, flipping around to see the mats unoccupied under our small umbrella. I hadn’t seen her when I finished my jog, since all of my attention was focused on Luke and the hairy beast, Captain Rex.

  “Over there,” he said, racing past me toward the water.

  I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Luke, we need to get going. Where’s your sister?”

  He had just tripped over the low tide and tumbled into the water. He came right up with a big smile on his face.

  “Sister?” I yelled again.

  He jabbed his finger to my left. I turned in that direction and initially saw only a cluster of tents with various college logos etched on the tops. Older kids were gathered there, drinking, playing horseshoes, and listening to music. I took a few steps as I scanned the area. I only spotted scantily clad girls and guys with too much chest hair and heavy beards, most of who had a beer in their hands. I guesstimated these kids were at least juniors in college—definitely not Erin’s crowd. Luke had it all wrong. She must have taken a walk down the beach. I turned back to the water, and Luke was yelling at me.

  “What?” I hollered.

  “Right behind you!”

  I slowly turned and found the back of a hunky college guy wearing some type of swimsuit that clung to his ass. His broad shoulders pitched forward, and I could hear laughter. That sounded like…Erin?

  Shifting two steps to my right, I blinked twice to realize the ever-maturing body of my daughter matched the face. Just as I opened my mouth, Luke ran up.

  “Now you see her?” he said.

  “Oh yeah, I see her,” I said, stepping between Erin and the college predator.

  “Mom, what are you doing?” she asked, a look of horror on her tanned face.

  “Luke, run and get me one of our towels.” I stuck my hand out to the right, and he scurried away.

  “Erin Giordano, what do you think you’re wearing?”

  I couldn’t believe my eyes. All I saw was skin wrapped in a few slivers of gold and black cloth. I tried to stay in front of her, but she moved away from me like I had the plague.

  “Mom, this is the same swimsuit you bought me. I wore it here to the beach.”

  I paused and did a double take. “But you had on a long T-shirt.”

  “Hello, I still had on this same bikini under the T-shirt.”

  I thought I had cooled down from my jog, but her “hello” comment sent a wave of heat up my neck.

  “I guess I got you the wrong size,” I said just as Luke jogged up with a beach towel. “Here you go, wrap this around you.”

  “Mother, you’re embarrassing me. The swimsuit fits fine.”

  “Looks okay from here.” The college hunk spoke.

  I flipped around ready to impose my will on the kid, but my eyes couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of the bulge in his…I just realized he was wearing tight boxer shorts.

  “Do you mind putting on some shorts or a real swimsuit?” I gritted my teeth while staring straight into his hazel eyes.

  “Sorry, ma’am, but I just got off work and all I have is that yellow, fish-smelling bib.” He pointed to a pile of clothes next to an open ice chest.

  He must have seen my eyes shooting darts.

  “I guess I could wrap a towel around me,” he said as his forehead crumpled like fried bacon.

  He frantically searched for a towel for a few seconds, but didn’t have any luck, so he just grabbed the towel that was meant for Erin.

  I turned back around to my daughter. “I must have gotten you a size too small.”

  Erin shook her head. “You do know that everyone is staring at me.”

  My peripheral vision could make out some staring eyes, and then I noticed she had a koozie in her hand. “Are you drinking beer? Jesus, Erin, you’re only fifteen, and here you are dressed like this, drinking beer.” I tried running my fingers through my hair, but the sweaty, sand-drenched knots snagged a fingernail. “Dammit,” I said.

  “Mom, can we go now? I’m hungry,” Luke said.

  Scowling at me, Erin pulled the can out of the koozie to show me an orange Izze. “Soda. That’s all it is. And by the way, his name is Corey, and we were just talking about what it would be like to major in marine biology. He goes to school at Texas A&M-Corpus Christi.”

  I’d really stepped in it with Erin, but I couldn’t dwell on it just then. “Good for him. Say goodbye to your friends. We need to get to dinner with your grandfather.”

  With that, I headed toward the umbrella to gather our things. I was a little nervous about the visit with Dad. I knew we’d either see him shit-faced or slinging so much shit it would be hard to tell when he might actually be telling the truth.

  3

  Dad slipped back into his chair and said, “Wow, they’ve even upgraded the bathrooms in this place. It’s been a while since we’ve been here, huh, baby?”

  Baby?

  I cringed, but I tried like hell not to show it. We were just wrapping up dinner at Mariano’s, a little Italian place in Port Isabel, my actual hometown, just across the one bridge connected to South Padre Island. Outside of the cutesy game Dad was playing with his latest squeeze, Carly, the dinner had gone much better than anticipated. He hadn’t ordered a single alcoholic beverage, and all things considered, he seemed reasonably healthy, lucid, and…uncomfortably frisky with this woman who was easily twenty years his junior. I wondered if she was older than I was.

  “Hey, Donny, why don’t you tell Luke and Erin some of your sailor jokes?” Carly batted her fake eyelashes and squeezed his biceps. While she was surprisingly attractive and had all of her limbs, her smile was enough to bring shivers up my spine. She had more gold in her mouth than Flavor Flav.

  “Hold on,” I said. As a former officer in the Coast Guard, Dad had a salty mouth, to say the least. I wasn’t keen on having the kids exposed to what I heard growing up.

  “Mom, you’re such a buzzkill,” Erin said from the safety of the other side of the table. “Hello, do you know the kind of shit I see at school every day? Girls smoke weed in the bathroom, and there’s a massive cheating scandal that goes on between everyone ranked in the top ten percent of the class.”

  Her “hello” attitude had carried over from the beach. To a degree, I couldn’t blame her. I replayed the whole scenario on the way back to where we were staying during the week, at my old friend Teresa’s house. Once I put myself in Erin’s shoes—or bikini, as the case may be—I kind of got where she was coming from. She couldn’t help that her body had changed. And she was only drinking an Izze. While that boy, Corey, was dressed more like a stripper than just a regular dude, he wasn’t smoking a joint or openly hitting on her—at least as far as I could tell. I knew I owed her a private mother-daughter discussion later.

  “Okay, Dad, try to keep it PG or better, will you?”

  He gave me a quick I gotcha wink. My breath caught in the back of my throat. That snapshot took me back twenty-something years, when his skin wasn’t wrinkled and he still had at least an occasional vibrancy for life, especially when he was coaching me on working out harder or giving me the thumbs-up before I’d play a big match. Then I’d usually go out and win in straight sets and he’d say to all of his buddies, “She’s my secret weapon, boys. Alex has that killer instinct that I’ve never seen before.”

  It made me feel good when
I was seventeen: stronger, confident, almost invincible. Looking back, it was probably his way of overcompensating for me not having my mother around. Or he just had no clue how to raise a daughter.

  “Okay, I’ll keep this clean for the little guy over here,” Dad said.

  Luke’s brow furrowed. “I grew two inches in the last six months.”

  “But you’re still a runt,” Erin said with a hearty laugh. She quickly stuck a straw in her sassy mouth, and I put my hand over Luke’s mouth before he could retort.

  “Save us, Dad.”

  “Why do seagulls fly over the sea?”

  “I don’t know, Donny,” Carly said, splaying her hands while grinning at Luke. “Why do seagulls fly over the sea?”

  Sheesh, they were a regular vaudeville act.

  “Do you know, Luke?” I asked. He shook his head, then I glanced at Erin, who was too busy checking out the scene in the restaurant.

  “Hit us, Dad.”

  “Because if they flew over the bay, they would be baygulls. Get it?”

  Carly led the laughing brigade, finishing every round with a snort, which cracked up both Luke and Erin. She had no clue they were laughing at her. She scratched her forearm, which brought my attention to her lightweight, long-sleeve shirt.

  “Long sleeves, Carly? You must be one of those who gets cold instead of comfortable when these restaurants blast the AC,” I said.

  She covered her breasts. “Don’t tell me my headlights are still showing. Shit, Donny, I even added a camisole on top of my regular bra.”

  Classy. I tried to quickly change the subject. “Got another joke, Dad?”

  “How much did the pirate pay for his piercings?”

  Carly opened her hands and mouth, but I held up my hand, hoping to avoid the routine. Neither of the kids had a guess.

  Dad said, “A buck an ear. Get it?”