by Raven Snow
Turning his head towards me, he grunted and nodded at the locked door. I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. If he wanted something from me, he could use his big boy words.
He grunted again.
“I’m sorry, did you need something? Or are you choking on your own spit?”
“Do your…thing,” he said reluctantly. “I want a look below.”
“I have many things.”
His eyes narrowed. “We’re alone on the water. No one around to hear you scream.”
I’d had my fun, so I went over to magic the lock. “I wouldn’t count on that. I’m pretty loud.”
The door sprung open, almost knocking me in the face to Kosher’s amusement. I hadn’t yet perfected the new lock trick, though I was getting it right more frequently.
Instead of heading forward toward the steering wheel, Kosher took me down a couple stairs into the bottom of the boat.
There was a bed. A really big, red bed that I wouldn’t touch with a 6-foot pole.
“That’s…tasteful,” I said. “Classy, even.”
I made Kosher go into the cramped bathroom, because there was no way I was going within smelling distance of that. Unfortunately, that left me with the bed.
I checked under it and rustled around in the covers, trying to find anything of consequence. The murder weapon with someone else’s prints on it would have been great, but I wasn’t going to be picky.
Something solid and small brushed against my fingers and then fell to the floor, rolling under the bed. Getting back down on my knees, I reached around, trying to grasp it. Before long, half my body was under the bed.
“It’s a wonder to watch you work. It really is,” Kosher said behind me, scaring the bejesus out of me.
I jumped, and my head collided with the wooden frame, the dull thud echoing in the room. A little moan escaped my lips, and right at that moment, my fingers found whatever had fallen under the bed.
When I came back up, the light revealed that the object was a tube of bright red lipstick. We both stared at it for a moment, trying to find any significance.
Kosher lips twitched. “Was it worth the concussion?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I turned the lipstick over in the fingers. “This is so not my shade.”
The boat lurched under our feet, like something had hit it from the side. Probably typical sea stuff.
I pocketed the lipstick, hoping it would mean something to me later. As soon as that was done, I realized the boat was on a lake. Not only that, the boat was tied up to the docks. Kosher had the same realization a moment after, and he opened his mouth to say something.
Another jolt sent me crashing into a little kitchenette, while Kosher flopped down on the bed. Which didn’t seem fair. My head was aching from the second blow, my vision a little blurry. Maybe Kosher hadn’t been so off base with his concussion comment.
The next blow to the boat came from the opposite side just as I had struggled to my feet. I stumbled forward, knocking heads with Kosher, and we both went crashing to the floor. Our bodies sprawled out, his boot in my ribcage and my sweater in his mouth.
He gripped his head where I’d hit him. “Your skull is like steel.”
After righting ourselves, we fought our way up the stairs. The hits to the boat were coming faster now, one right after the other. It felt like we were on the open sea in the middle of a hurricane, and if it continued any longer, I feared I was in danger of puking on Kosher’s shoes.
The door to the deck had locked behind us. I tried gripping the handle, but my hand kept slipping away. And so did my concentration. With every hit, I lost hold of my inner power, making it impossible to drag any up.
“Move,” Kosher said, pushing me to the side. It was a pretty effective move, since I was seeing double.
His boot collided with the door and the wood splintered. On his second attempt, the door flew open, crashing into the side and probably doing some real damage to the boat.
Not that Chris was in a position to object.
We ran out onto the deck but stopped dead in our tracks when we saw the source of all the commotion.
I craned my neck up, up, and up. “Hello, Sabrina,” I said under my breath.
Leaning over the boat was a colossal monster. She looked like a snake with pale scales and teeth that looked sharp much like a great white’s teeth. Her head was covered in lethal-looking spikes, and two orb-like yellow eyes stared down at us.
I wanted to run, to cower, to do anything, but all I could do was stare into those eyes that seemed to look right through me. Beside me, Kosher was trembling, the shaking of his body matching my own.
The creature knocked against the boat again, and I landed squarely on my butt, still looking up in horror. I could fully understand Sawyer’s fascination with the thing now. It was amazing.
And it was also probably about to eat us. I’d end up like Chris. They’d be finding part of my body on the edge of the lake tomorrow with a whole Kosher right next to me. I could only assume the monster would spit him out. Too bitter.
It was that image that got me back on my feet. I grabbed Kosher by the collar and hauled him up. Running across the slippery deck, I kept one eye on the serpentine lake monster. It did not look happy.
Without warning, Sabrina lunged at me, her giant jaws opening wide. I dove out of the way, rolling in the right direction by sheer luck and avoiding becoming a snack.
In the next second, I was up and onto the dock with Kosher right behind me. We ran all the way onto land and kept going. The sand under my feet was the best feeling in the world.
I could’ve cried when we reached the car, panting, shaking, and strangely hungry. Slumping against the frame of the bug, I looked back at the lake for the first time since hitting dry land. Sabrina was nowhere in sight, though there were slight ripples in the water where I assumed she’d gone under.
A few seconds later, after I’d stared at the lake for as long as I could, I realized I was soaking wet. A glance over at Kosher revealed that I wasn’t the only one. When the lake monster lunged for us, she must have drenched us as well. Funny that I hadn’t felt that.
I must have had other things on my mind.
Unlocking the car, I slid into the driver’s seat and put the heat on full blast. Kosher joined me a moment later, shuddering as the forceful air hit his skin and wet clothes.
For a couple minutes, we just sat there, staring blankly out the window and away from the lake.
“We were almost fish food,” he said numbly.
“Yeah.”
He shook his head. “How do you do this all the time?”
“I drink a lot.”
Not to mention other recreational drug habits I had. But I had enough sense not to mention that to a cop, even a suspended one.
“Had enough for one night?” I asked.
“I think that was enough for a lifetime.”
My lips twitched, and I stepped on the gas. “We’ll see how you feel in the morning.”
Wyatt was amazingly waiting up for me when I got home from dropping Kosher off. I must have looked like a drowned rat, standing there in his foyer, but he gave me a kiss anyway.
Parking me in a seat in the kitchen, he grabbed a blanket from the hall closet. Once I was wrapped up like a burrito, he started making a cup of tea to stave off the frostbite. The heated mug felt like heaven against my freezing fingers.
Then, he started in on the lecture.
“I got a call tonight,” he said, sliding into a chair next to me.
“Oh?”
There was a little relief in my tone, because one call seemed pretty tame. I’d been up to a lot of stuff tonight, so if no one was knocking on the door with handcuffs and a squad car, I was getting off easy.
“Actually, I got a lot of calls.”
That sounded more like it.
He started listing them off on his fingers. “A co-worker called about a woman and a man breaking into the station. He thought they loo
ked a little familiar.”
“My reputation precedes me.”
“Vic called to ask where you’d taken her boyfriend. There were at least a dozen disturbance reports about a couple of maniacs sprinting through town.”
Had we been that loud while trying to escape? “I’m not sure those count as calls.”
He went on as if I hadn’t spoken. “And then, Sawyer rang me and said you and Peter almost got yourselves eaten. That was my personal favorite.”
“I can see where it would be. High drama and everything.”
Wyatt shook his head, rubbing his temples in frustration. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Love me, feed me, never leave me,” I said, quoting a cartoon cat.
He took my cold hand, and if I thought the mug felt good, it was nothing compared to his skin on mine. “I appreciate what you’re doing. So does Vic. But Peter’s freedom isn’t worth anything to me if you’re not around to see it.” Sighing, he said, “Just be more careful, alright?”
“I promise.”
If I’d only known then how hard of a promise that would be to keep.
Chapter Nine
The next night I headed into the Funky Wheel to give Jeb a break. I might have saved money on gas if I’d foreseen that he would refuse. The man was like a loyal dog: always at my side and dripping bodily fluids all over the place.
This time, I intercepted him at the door, putting my body between him and the entrance. It wasn’t much, because he was built along the lines of a rhinoceros.
“You’re not going in. You’re going home.”
He shook his head, the movement sluggish. Then, he just ran me over. It wasn’t so much a deliberate move as he nodded off and stumbled forward before catching himself. With a sigh, I moved aside. Far be it from me to keep my bouncer from killing himself.
Stan showed up next, and to my amusement, Wyatt was driving him. It was definitely not the first time my employee had been in a squad car, but it was probably the first time he rode up front.
When Wyatt pulled up, he rolled down his window. His expression was caught halfway between amusement and irritation.
“Got something for you,” he said.
I glanced meaningfully into his lap. “I bet you do.”
He laughed, and I leaned into the car to give him a kiss. He deserved it after chauffeuring my wayward stoner around.
“Thanks,” I said, pulling Stan out of the car.
“Just don’t forget him again. Or better yet, make him move out.”
Oh, how I wished.
Stan and I went back inside, and I sent him to clean the bathroom. Unlike last time, he didn’t protest, his face only falling slightly as he walked slowly towards the room that smelled strongly of his past.
We were due to open in a few minutes, but luckily, Jeb had kept working while I was distracted with Stan and my husband. I barely had to do anything but prep the bar.
I wasn’t the only one who knew my life was much easier with Jeb, and the subject in question shot me a smug look over the touchy sound system.
“No one likes a gloater,” I said. “I’d like to remind you that I have control over your paycheck.”
“I do the payroll.”
I sniffed. “Only when I delegate the task.”
“You’ve been delegating every two weeks for the past ten years, Miss Foxxy.”
People started coming in, and Jeb took his position by the door, the smile wiped from his face. Like a herding shepherd, I gave the customers a show by rolling in circles around them.
The night went pretty routinely. Drinks were spilled, people fell, and there were arguments and first dates. Just another night at the Funky Wheel.
About halfway through the shift, someone tore up a piece of crucial tape near the bathroom. The carpet started peeling up, revealing the even worse looking surface beneath.
I banished the apologetic customer to the dance floor and grabbed a roll of the only item I bought in bulk: duct tape. Jeb offered to help, but I waved him away, getting down on my knees and taping the edges down with sheer force of will.
When I’d finally gotten everything stuck to the floor where it belonged, I sat back, taking a moment. From my position on the floor, I heard something in the bathroom.
At first, I thought someone was crying in there. If that had been the case, I would’ve stayed far away. But the strange, airy sounds eventually took the form of someone inhaling air like their lives depended on it.
I barged into the bathroom to find Stan sniffing around with a look of relish and torment on his face.
“Now, this is just pathetic.”
Stan straightened, looking embarrassed. “Sorry, boss man. It just smells so good.”
Resisting the urge to blow my brains out, I said, “Come with me. You and I are going to have a little chat.”
I took Stan into the office and told Jeb not to disturb us. He looked at us with interest, so I figured he’d be listening at the door once I closed it.
In the time it took me to get situated, I thought about what I was going to say to Stan. On one hand, Wyatt would be very disappointed if I promoted drug use. On the other, I didn’t think I could stand another minute of his sobriety.
“Here’s the thing, Stan,” I said once he was sitting. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to be a worse employee, but you did it. Congratulations.”
His face lit up. “Thanks, boss man.”
Maybe I should have had Jeb come in here with us. At that moment, I was afraid I was a danger to myself and others.
“Right. I’m going to need you to leave.”
He cocked his head to the side. “I get to go home early?”
Stopping him before he could get up and practically sprint home, I said, “There’s a catch. This is not free time. You’re going to go home—to your home—and figure out this whole thing.”
“Whole thing?”
“Your sobriety. If you’re going to be sober, no more inhaling in the bathroom. Sobriety also means you have to stop being such a crappy worker. Only stoner’s can get away with it.”
“Bummer.”
I nodded. “Yes, bummer,” I said. “Now, if you’re going to be a stoner. Be a stoner. You can go back to watching the hot dogs spin and smoking in the bathroom. But you have to decide. No more half-assing. I’m requiring your full ass in this endeavor.”
“Okay,” he said slowly, getting up. After a moment, he turned to leave, glancing back at me every few seconds in confusion.
I dropped my face into my hands. “You can go now.”
“Oh, cool. Thanks boss man.”
He had a little trouble when he tried to push the door that was a pull. But eventually he figured it out and was gone.
Not for the first time, I sat in wonder that this was Stan sober. He had to have like two brain cells left in total.
Jeb and I worked like a well-oiled machine for the rest of the night, but I put my foot down when the last of the customers pulled away.
“Leave, because you’re not coming back inside,” I said, doing the blocking the door bit again.
“We still have to close up, Miss Foxxy.” He looked at me like I genuinely didn’t know the nightly routine. It was almost a little insulting, but he was a little whacked on cold medicine.
“Don’t worry, big guy,” I said, patting him on the chest since I couldn’t reach his shoulder. “I think I can figure it out.”
I stayed in the parking lot until his headlights disappeared, not trusting him not to charge back inside when my back was turned. Fool me once and all that jazz.
After flipping off most of the lights, I went around turning off all the electronics. The experience was so familiar I found myself nodding off, not paying attention.
I snapped to attention when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.
Whirling around, I tried to track the movement, but it was gone, the shadows as still as they’d ever been.
“Jeb?”
Backing out slowly, I kept my eyes on my surroundings. “Okay. I’m going now. Alone. Don’t even think about axe murdering me.”
When I reached the door, I slammed it behind me, locking it in a matter of seconds. As soon as that was done, I ran to my car and sped all the way home. I was like a live wire the whole drive, jumping at little changes in the radio.
I didn’t really relax until I was safely in my bedroom, wrapped securely in Wyatt’s arms.
****
By the morning, I had convinced myself that I’d imagined seeing someone in the shadows last night. I was stressed, still freaked out over Sabrina, and that was a bad combination.
Whatever the reason, I figured my problem would be cured if I could solve the case. So, I dragged myself out of bed early enough to see the sunrise.
My plan had been to get to Kosher’s bright and early to share my pain. Once that was done, we’d head down to the docks and Sawyer’s shop. Now that I’d gotten a close up look at Sabrina, I felt compelled to speak to her number one fan.
But the funny thing about plans is that they all fall to the wayside when kids are involved.
Cooper came bouncing down the stairs with his backpack and an empty lunch box. The latter I took from him, filling it with a sandwich, chips, and some baby carrots. He watched the whole show from his perch at the kitchen table.
“You’re not dressed,” he said.
I looked down at my ratty robe. “Are you playing the fashion police today?”
He chose not to reply to that one. “My dad,” he said, chest puffing out with pride at the very mention of his father, “said you’d take me to school today.”
Without telling me. Again. Wyatt liked to shove Cooper off on me without warning when I was working a dangerous case. It was his way of passive aggressively keeping me safe.
I handed Cooper his lunch box. “I’m divorcing your father.”
“He said you’d say that.”
Checking my watch, I cursed and ran upstairs to get dressed. After throwing on something tight enough to not weigh me down in the water—you never know—I was back at Cooper’s side and leading him to the car.
