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Dead Creek

Page 27

by Victoria Houston


  “Close to a billion dollars, counting the insurance on Robert that gets paid now that we know how he died,” said Julie. “That oughta rock this town.”

  Osborne raised his eyebrows and glanced up to see Lew doing the same.

  “Whoa, that’ll buy her a good lawyer if she needs one,” said Ray, and they were all quiet for solemn moment. “Does she know it yet?”

  “I thought I’d stop out to Herman’s place sometime later today—after I get some sleep—and have a little chat with her,” said Julie. She looked at Ray, and it was a look both questioning and ever so slightly demure. “I was wondering if you’d go with me.”

  “Sure. Let me take you up the Loon Lake Chain afterward. In my boat. We’ll get that fishing lesson in before you have to go back to Kansas City….”

  “I was thinking of staying an extra day or two,” said Julie, her eyes on Ray.

  “That would be loverly,” said Ray, his eyes on Julie. “And perhaps I can recommend a rod or two—in case this becomes a habit?”

  Before Julie could answer, Lew interrupted. “Oh—Ray. I almost forgot.” She unzipped the small black leather bag she wore strapped to her waist near her revolver and pulled out the muskie lure that had once graced Ray’s hat.

  “We’ve got your hat at the station, but I was afraid this might get lost. You may want it as a souvenir.”

  “Thank you, Lew.” Ray reached out his hand.

  “Have you ever caught anything with that or you just wear it on your hat?” asked Lew with a dubious tone in her voice.

  “I know you don’t believe in surface lures,” said Ray, his eyes earnest and persuasive as he looked at Lew, “but I’ve caught four big ones with this lure and raised, maybe, fifteen or twenty more over the past few years.”

  “Me, too,” said Osborne. “That surface mud puppy is one of the best damn lures.”

  “I dunno,” said Lew in disbelief. “I like the deep-water lure myself. I really believe you’ve got a better shot fishing the thermocline. Over the last ten years, I’ve hooked three big ones fishing deep with a Striker. Granted, I’ve only gotten three, but they’re plenty big fish, guys.”

  “What is everyone talking about?” asked Julie. “This sounds too technical for so early in the morning.”

  “Dueling muskie hunters,” said Ray with a grin. “This debate could go on for hours. Once you start to fish muskie, you have to commit—deep water or surface—there’s no middle ground.”

  “Sure there is,” said Osborne. “She can fish her side of the boat and I’ll fish mine. But Lew,” said Osborne, setting his fork carefully into his slice of lemon meringue pie, then raising his eyes to hers, “have you ever given the surface mud puppy a chance?”

  “No.”

  Osborne sensed a challenge. He was more than up to the effort. He knew this woman’s habits in the stream-beds, in the rivers—he would like to know her better on the lake. “Perhaps it’s time.”

  “Doc, are you finally inviting me to share your boat?” Lew chuckled. God, he loved her laugh.

  “What do you mean ‘finally,’ “ said Osborne. “I’ve been trying to get you on the lake for months. You just refuse to let go of that damn fly rod of yours. Of course, now Ray tells me you’re an expert with a spinning rod, too.” He was very surprised to feel his heart pounding. He also caught a flash of amusement between Julie and Ray. He felt a little foolish.

  “O-o-h, I doubt that,” said Lew. She gave him a sideways look. “I’m sure there’s a lot I can learn from you.”

  “I didn’t hear that,” said Ray, winking at Julie.

  “You bet you didn’t.” Osborne waved a fork at Ray. “You keep your big mouth shut.” That was hopeless. He knew Ray would be regaling the McDonald’s crowd with every detail of his love life. But for some reason, he just didn’t care.

  “Doc …” Lew looked down at her plate and neatly set her fork to wedge out a small bite of pie, then she looked up at him. “I’ll try the mud puppy if you’ll try my Striker.” Her alert, good-natured eyes held his.

  “On one condition,” said Osborne. “You let me take you to dinner afterward.”

  She never flinched, and he realized she’d been waiting. “Deal.”

  “I’m so glad you’re okay, Lew.”

  Lew looked at him in surprise. Her eyes softened, and she reached over to lay her hand on his. “I’m glad you’re okay, Doc.” Ray and Julie were suddenly very busy chewing.

  Osborne savored the last lemony bite of his pie. Some days life just didn’t get much better.

  Titles by Victoria Houston

  DEAD ANGLER

  DEAD CREEK

  DEAD WATER

  DEAD FRENZY

  DEAD HOT MAMA

  DEAD JITTERBUG

  DEAD BOOGIE

  DEAD MADONNA

  DEAD HOT SHOT

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  Published in Electronic Format by

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  Cincinnati, Ohio 45236

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  Copyright © 2000, 2008 by Victoria Houston

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any

  means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information

  storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction.

  Any similarities to people or places, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  eISBN 10: 1-4405-3145-5

  eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-3145-3

  This work has been previously published in print format by:

  Bleak House Books

  a division of Big Earth Publishing, Inc.

  Print ISBN: 978-1-932557-91-6

 

 

 


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