Southern Comfort

by Fern Michaels

Sandy reached for her own beach towel. “Well, yeah,” she drawled. “At least it’s something to do. By the way, do you see that boat that’s just sitting out there?”

  “I’m one step ahead of you. The guy is fishing and reading a book. He’s probably some local who just wants to get away from his nagging wife, and he’s killing two birds with one stone. He’s fishing, which is what guys tell their wives, and he’s probably reading some horror novel about how to kill your pain-in-the-ass boss, who makes your life as miserable as your wife makes it. Anything else you want to know?” Kate asked sweetly.

  “I think that about covers it, Ms. Rush. I’d race you to the water, but it’s just too damn hot. Listen, Kate, I am serious about leaving here. You know I’m no wuss, but this is beyond the call of duty, and we aren’t even getting paid.”

  “I know, I know. We can fall back and regroup later when the sun goes down. I’m surprised we haven’t heard from Jelly today.”

  Sandy bristled. “Think about it, Ms. Rush, why should he call us? We’re on the scene, nothing is going on except we’re slowly getting cooked to our bones, so why should he waste his time with a phone call just to hear us bitch and moan. Get real here. And another thing. You haven’t seen hide nor hair of Roy or Josh, have you?”

  A moment later, she ran into the water and was lost to sight. She came up, and shouted, “I think my core temperature just dropped twenty degrees. This is heaven. I might never come out of the water. I might even sleep on the beach tonight and get bitten by sand fleas; and then I can legitimately pack in this gig and head back to civilization.”

  Kate rolled over on her back and closed her eyes as she floated by Sandy. “Then we can’t have a weenie roast on the beach, and you won’t get to meet that redheaded guy.”

  “Who said I wanted the redheaded guy?” Sandy asked lazily.

  “I know you, Sandra Martin, and I know your taste in men, Sandra Martin,” Kate singsonged, before she rolled over to slip beneath the water. When she came up for air, she said, “The guy out there in the boat is watching us. No binoculars, but he’s staring right at you. Don’t even think about it, Sandy; it’s too far to swim out there.”

  “There goes the Coast Guard on their daily patrol. Oh, look, they’re pulling up alongside that guy. If he’s still there after they leave, we’ll know he’s just another local or some dumb tourist thinking this is fun.”

  In spite of herself, Kate laughed, the sound tinkling over the water. “If you want, I can recite a litany of mistakes the Coast Guard has made over the past five years. Remember Rule Number One, which is, ‘Nothing is what it seems.’ Always investigate.”

  Sandy was now on her back as she stared at the two boats. “I like Rule Number Two, which is, ‘Ignore Rule Number One.’ What else should we make for our weenie roast? Maybe I should clarify that statement, and say, what should I think about preparing? We have some steaks in that thing that passes as a refrigerator. We could roast some potatoes. Doncha just love them when you pull them out, and they’re all black and crusty?”

  “Why don’t you bake a pie. Men love pie. Ooops, that’s right, we don’t have a real stove, and no oven,” Kate added playfully.

  Kate’s sarcasm did not go unnoticed by Sandy. “You are determined to rain on my parade, aren’t you?” Not bothering to wait for a response, she stared out at the two boats. Even from that distance she could tell that the Coast Guard boat had cranked the throttle. They were moving off, so that had to mean the guy checked out and was now back to reading his book and tugging on his fishing line. Coincidence?

  The bright orange ball of the sun literally sizzled on the water. Kate couldn’t ever remember the water being this warm in all the years she’d lived in Miami and all the years she’d vacationed in the Keys. Overhead, the sky was cerulean blue, the few clouds marshmallow white. Absolutely beautiful if only it weren’t so hot. With the back of her hand, she swiped at the seawater dripping down her cheeks. God, how she hated the heat.

  “We should head back to shore and do our walk down the beach if you’re ready, Sandy. But . . . we put on some clothes. Agreed?”

  “You’re no fun, Kate Rush,” Sandy said as she started to tread water. “Hey, look, there’s that parrot.”

  “And that means what?” Kate said, as her feet touched down on the burning-hot sand. “Forget the damn parrot and check out the guy in the boat. I’m thinking we should call Jelly and report in. Maybe he can run a check on the boat. From this distance, I can’t see if it has a name on it or not. Might be the guy’s own boat if he’s a local. If it’s a rental, there will be a record.”

  “It means the bird is spying on us. Remember it talks. I think you’re right. I’ll call Jelly and see what if anything he wants us to do. You okay with that, boss?” Sandra asked, deferring to Kate’s seniority.

  “Go for it. I’m going to change. God, I’m sweating already. Didn’t the weatherman say rain at some point today?” she called over her shoulder, but Sandy was already punching numbers into her cell phone and ignored her.

  By the time Kate emerged from behind the dressing screen, Sandy had hung up and was yanking at the straps of her bathing suit. “He’s going to check it out. What are you wearing?”

  “Clothes that cover my body. I suggest you do the same thing.” She looked down at the cutoff jeans that had become shorts and a sleeveless tank top in sunny yellow. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail. With her tan, she didn’t need makeup, but she wouldn’t have applied any regardless. She could hardly wait to see what Sandy was going to wear.

  “Didn’t you ever hear of enticing men with your body? Men will give up anything when they think . . . never mind. Okay, here I come!” Sandy shouted three minutes later.

  Kate gasped. This had to be a first for Sandy, who liked to show off her assets and was up on the latest fashion. Knee-length plaid shorts and a white tank top that showed off her tan. Her hair, too, was pulled back and held in place with a scrunchy. “You happy now? I look like a damn tourist who bought all her vacation wear at Talbots. On sale. From their catalog.”

  Kate grinned. She loved to ruffle Sandy’s feathers. “I guess that raises the question, why do you even have an outfit like that?”

  “For an occasion such as this,” Sandy replied flippantly. “C’mon, let’s get this show on the road.”

  “In a minute. I want to check out that guy on the boat one more time. I want you to go outside, do some calisthenics or something so he’s looking at you. I want to see him with the binoculars and don’t want his attention focused on this building. Talk to the parrot or something but move up the beach toward where the guys are. I want to see if he follows your progress while I check him out.”

  “Done,” Sandy said as she walked through the door. Bird greeted her with a resounding, “Put on your big-girl panties. Bang! Bacon! Oh, shit! Panties are purple!”

  Sandy burst out laughing. “You, my friend, are a dirty old bird! You need to clean up your vocabulary. Say nice things like, Sandy is beautiful. Kate is a plain Jane. Or, how about this, you lamebrain bird, Sandy is a hot chick? Tell me about that guy down the line. What’s he like? Tell me about the brother. Are they hotties? C’mon, I won’t tell anyone you sang like a canary. Damn, I crack myself up sometimes.”

  “Secrets! Oh, boy, secrets! Hot chicks, red-hot chicks. Wak, wak,” Bird screeched.

  Sandy whirled around as she pretended not to look at the guy in the boat. What was taking Kate so long? She scuffed the superhot sand with her bare foot and found a ratty-looking cracked shell. She stared at it, then shoved it into her pocket just as she heard the metal screen door to the hut slam shut. Kate loped over to where she was standing.

  “What did you find out?” Sandy demanded.

  “Maybe nothing, maybe something. Guy definitely is not a fisherman. He doesn’t have any buckets of bait on that boat. There’s no bait on his hook. Saw him check it. He’s reading some thriller. At least it looks like a thriller, and the author’s name is Loomis.
Either he’s a slow reader, or he likes to read the same page over and over. He didn’t flip the page the whole time I was watching him. The way his head was tilted, he was watching you. He’s wearing sunglasses, but damn if he doesn’t look familiar. For whatever it’s worth, I do not think he’s a tourist or some guy trying to get some peace and quiet. Hey, he could be a superspy, or he could just be some dumb schmuck out there piddling around hoping to pick up some hot babe in a string bikini water-skiing. But my gut is telling me he bears watching.”

  Sandy frowned. “But you’re leaning toward him being something other than what he’s trying to portray, right?”

  “Yes. We’ll keep our eyes on him to see if there’s any change. I can’t get over how he reminds me of someone. Oh, well, sooner or later it will come to me. Oh, oh, I almost forgot, the name of the boat is Sooner or Later. It doesn’t look new, kind of battered and tacky actually. I think it’s a rental, so Jelly will probably come up with something on it fairly quick. Now, let’s see what those guys are all about, so we can get back to what we do best—which at the moment is zip. Tell me again why we’re checking out these guys other than you want to hit on the redheaded one. By the way, where’s that damn bird?”

  Sandy looked around and shrugged. “Probably waiting at his digs to welcome us. He sure is a salty old bird.”

  Kate sighed. What she called her belly-sight was kicking in, which meant something was out of kilter. She hated it when she couldn’t figure something out. Was it the guy out on the boat? Was he there to check out the cop and his brother? Where in the damn hell did that bird figure into things? Sooner or Later. Who did the guy in the boat remind her of?

  “Okay, we’re almost there. Let’s get our act together. I’ll take the lead since you get tongue-tied around men. You know you really have to get over that hang-up of yours. It’s been proven that women are superior, so start acting like you believe it. Two minutes tops. We invite them. If they say no, we leave. If they say yes, we still leave. We can pick their brains around the fire. A little beer or wine loosens the tongue. We’re just being neighborly and have no ulterior motives. They don’t know who we are, so we’re safe. Any holes in anything I just said?” Sandy asked.

  Kate grimaced, her eyes on the boat in the water. “Yeah, one really big hole. The guy is a cop, for crying out loud. What makes you think he didn’t go to the same guy, the leader of this damn Key, and ask who we are? Jelly had to give it all up. The cop, in case you haven’t figured it out, is a resident of this Key. No one is going to hold out on a cop. We’re renters, squatters, or whatever you want to call us. I can almost guarantee they know who we are, so let’s just dispense with any cover story. We’re here. They’re here. You are inviting them to a weenie roast. I don’t want to come across as a fool and have to backpedal so that has to be the end of the story. Agreed?”

  “Yep.”

  Kate licked at her dry lips. Damn, she should have put some sunscreen on before they left the hut. Her stomach was tied in a knot, and she hated the feeling. Sandy was right, Kate thought, she never did well meeting men in a social setting. For sure it was one of her worst hang-ups. One-on-one with a gun in her hand, she had no equal. She steeled herself when they got to the property line, which was marked off by palm fronds. She looked up into the stilt house and was impressed with the architecture. “Hey, anyone home?” she called.

  Two heads leaned over the banister. “Just us,” a voice called out. “Come on up and have a glass of lemonade?”

  Sandy looked at Kate and wiggled her eyebrows. A hissing whispering was going on. It was obvious that one of the two wanted company and the other one didn’t. Before they could change their minds, Sandy started up the sturdy-looking steps that led to the small front porch. Kate was right behind her.

  The parrot was going ballistic, screaming about purple panties and bacon and squawking, “Intruder! Intruder! Bang you’re dead! Get the girls! Sandy’s hot! Real hot!”

  “Sandra Martin,” Sandy said, holding out her hand. “The bird is right, I am hot. I mean, I’m . . . you know, warm from the heat. This is my friend, Kate Rush. We’re hanging out down the beach. We came to invite you to a weenie roast, but we also have some steaks and some pretty good wine.”

  “Pete Kelly. This is my brother Patrick. Just call him Tick. And this noisy creature is Bird.”

  “Sandy is hot! Bang!”

  “Just ignore Bird; he has no social skills,” Tick said as he gave the two women the once-over. He liked what he was seeing and relaxed a little. “How about some lemonade or a cold beer?”

  “That would be nice, but no thanks. We have to get back. You know, to prepare and all,” Kate said, knowing full well her face was probably beet red. “Interesting house you have here. Did you do the work yourself?” she asked, not caring one way or the other what his answer was going to be.

  “Actually,” Pete said, “we worked on it together. Would you like a tour?”

  “Yes,” Sandy said.

  “Not right now,” Kate said.

  “Maybe some other time when you have nothing to do,” Tick said coolly.

  Kate nodded, turned, and started to walk down the steps, Sandy in her wake.

  Sandy turned around when she got to the bottom of the steps and called over her shoulder, “So is it a yes or a no?”

  Pete leaned so far over the banister, Tick had to reach out to grab his shirt. “We’ll be there. What time?”

  “When the sun goes down. You’ll see the smoke. Feel free to bring the bird,” Sandy shouted.

  When they were out of earshot, Kate grumbled, “You had to do that, didn’t you?”

  “What? What?”

  “We said in and out, offer the invitation, and what do you do? You say, yes, you want a tour. No, we did not want a tour. A tour would make us look nosy. Don’t you get it, Sandy?”

  “Yeah, I get it. You were uncomfortable around the cop, and I saw he was just as uncomfortable. He was really looking at you, Kate.”

  “Oh yeah, well guess who else is looking at us? Don’t look now, but our buddy on the Sooner or Later is watching us. Just keep walking, and act like we paid a social visit to those guys. And, according to you, that’s what we just did. I bet five bucks that guy stays out there until it gets dark. Or if he sees us building a fire, he might call it a day.”

  “Okay, okay. What did you think of those guys? I think Pete looks real interesting. I’m also thinking he just might be my type.”

  “Well, Sandy, I got so hot and bothered with the one called Tick, I just had to get out of there before I decided to jump his bones because I just can’t help myself sometimes.”

  “Well, damn, girl, you sure are full of surprises!” Sandy said in awe.

  Kate blinked. “And you believe me?” She gave her friend such a shove that she fell to the sand, at which point Sandy reached out for Kate’s ankle and toppled her into the sand.

  Back in the stilt house, Tick and Pete watched the two women tussling on the sand.

  “I’ve never seen a catfight before,” Pete hissed.

  “Yeah, Pete, when two women do what those two are doing, it’s a diversion. Probably for our benefit or for the benefit of that guy sitting out there in that boat. Didn’t anyone ever tell you women are devious? And sly? Not to mention manipulative, as well as ornery and sneaky.”

  “For someone who’s been living like a hermit for the past eight or so years and who was married to a saint, one has to wonder how you know so much about women.” Pete sniffed.

  “I didn’t say I was an authority. Do you see that guy out there in the boat? He’s been out there a good long while. Coast Guard stopped by to check him out. Doesn’t mean he’s clean, though. What do you say to taking out the Miss Sally and scaring the shit out of him? After we cruise around a bit of course. I think I recognize that boat, Sooner or Later. It’s from that ragged marina in Key West. I’m almost sure of it.”

  “Count me in,” Pete said, jamming his baseball cap more firmly on h
is head. “By the way, do you have anything to take to the party tonight. Mom always said you should never show up emptyhanded.”

  “Yeah, Mom always did say that. Having said that, I’ll hold your hand. That should do it, don’t you think?”

  Pete started to laugh. Tick joined in as he pocketed the keys to the Miss Sally.

  “You want to make it look more real?” Tick asked.

  “Sure. What do you want to do?”

  “Pete, when was the last time you went waterskiing?”

  “Never. When was the last time you went waterskiing, Tick?”

  “Never. I’ll buzz us over to the marina and rent some water skis. I’ll drive, and you can pretend to ski. We can try to find out who the guy is with the rental boat at the same time. We’ve both been snow skiing, so how hard can waterskiing be?”

  “You just want to see me make a fool of myself for those damn women on the beach. I know you, Tick. You are insidious. I don’t mind being your guinea pig because Mom liked me best.”

  “She did not!”

  “Did so.”

  It was an age-old battle neither one of the twins ever won.

  Chapter 10

  Lawrence Tyler stared across the shimmering water, which was starting to turn choppy. A sailor all his life, he knew a storm was coming, probably within the hour by the look of the darkening sky and the chop of the water where his boat rocked a little more than gently. He checked his fishing line by tugging at it. What he knew about fishing wouldn’t fill a thimble. Not that he had any firsthand experiences with thimbles.

  He was angry. No, angry was the wrong word. He was pissed. How dare that asshole Jellard go around him and bring Martin and Rush into the mix! He should have him up on charges the minute he got back to dry land. It would serve him right if that affected his pension. Jellard should know better than to pull a stunt like this.

  But with the investigation into his own record going on, it was more than likely that virtually all his authority had been stripped away, and he had become strictly a figurehead, which meant Jellard could do whatever he damn well pleased. But Rush and Martin? He knew for a fact they hadn’t been reinstated. Seeing them here in work mode had to mean they were off the book. He could really get Jellard fired for that. If anyone would listen to him that is. But he didn’t have absolute, ironclad proof of anything. However slim the odds were, the pair could be on vacation.