1 Sunshine Hunter (6 page)

Stupid right breast. I obviously needed to give up swimming.

I was embarrassed and wondered how many people on the beach had seen what happened. I made my way back to my towel as fast as I could. I pulled my book from my bag and turned over onto my stomach.

As soon as I started to read, I
wished I had brought some chick-lit instead. The beach didn’t seem the place for
Drills, Skills, and Strategies for Racquetball
. I was serious about the sport, but not that serious at the moment. I put the book aside, lay my head down, and concentrated on the sounds of the beach. Gulls were screeching overhead, and waves were gently lapping at the shore. There was laughter from a small group of people to my left and occasional cheers and clapping came from the volleyball group to my right. The sun was hot …

I awoke with a start, turned over, and sat up. I had
dozed off again. What had awakened me? Darby was still with the volleyball players, but it looked like the game was breaking up. The group to my right was packing up their belongings, the guys with the boards were gone, and I noticed other people on the beach picking up their towels and bags and heading in to the hotel or out to the parking lot. I saw someone who I thought looked like the skinny guy from the restaurant. He was now on the beach, seated on a towel, and facing the ocean. He wasn’t in a hurry to go anywhere.

I realized the sun wasn’t quite as bright as it had been
. I looked behind me and saw there were dark clouds coming in from the east. This would either be a late afternoon soaker as was common in Florida, or it was a front coming in that would bring rain for the evening.

Just as I finished packing my bag, Darby was back with his big smile and saying, “That was a blast! You have to join in next time. I know you’d be great, and you could consider it more training.”

The raindrops were starting to come. I looked around and saw almost everyone was off the beach now except the knucklehead skinny guy. He was still sitting on his towel facing the ocean.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It had been a long day, so we decided to stay in for the evening. The door between our rooms was open again. Darby had gone out to buy drinks and snacks. Our plans were to crash on his bed, eat junk food, and watch the new episode of Iron Chef.

I fished my phone out of my purse and turned it on. Two more calls from Samantha today, only one more from Mick. There were no voice mail messages, so there couldn’t be anything urgent from either of them, but it wasn’t like Samantha to call me when I was on vacation. I punched
her speed dial number. She finally answered on the fourth ring.

“Hi, Sam. I’m returning your calls. What’s up?” I didn’t give her a chance to answer. “We got here just fine, I’m feeling better, and we’re having a good time, so you don’t have to worry about me,” I told her.

“I’m not worried,” she said with a small laugh. “I called because I thought you should know something.”

“Ok. What?”
I asked. I felt apprehensive. This didn’t sound like it could be anything good. Her voice wasn’t as cheerful as usual.

“Jerry had a heart attack on Saturday night.” She paused before continuing with her news. “Susan, he died on a court.”

“Oh my gosh, Sam, that’s horrible.” My stomach flopped over, and I felt sick. “What happened?”

“After you left, a couple of those cable guys were drunk and got into it
,” she said. “They were on court number one, so Jerry was able see them arguing. He went in to break it up, but before he could, he collapsed right there on the spot. The paramedics arrived within five minutes, but he was already dead. All we know is he had a massive heart attack.”

“I remember hearing sirens
as I was dropping off to sleep,” I told her. “I had no idea they were headed to the club. I don’t know what to say, Sam. Do they think the heart attack was from steroids? I always suspected he was taking them. I feel so badly for his family.”

“I don’t know about steroids,” she said. “Larry’s cousin, Dick, works down at the police station, and he told Larry that for now, it’s simply being ruled as a heart attack, and they can’t find any family other than an uncle who barely knew him.”

“What about the man who shows up on Thursday nights with the packages?” I asked her. “Do they know who he is?” I had to put my theory out there. “I bet he’s a drug dealer, and there are steroids in those packages. Did Larry tell Dick about him?”

“Susan, as far as I know, there’s nothing more
,” she said. “It was a heart attack. There won’t be any calling hours, but his uncle has arranged a grave-side ceremony at Shady Rest Cemetery for Thursday morning.”

“We won’t be back until Sunday afternoon, so I’ll miss it,” I told her. “If you can get his uncle’s address, or find someone close to him, let me know so I can send a card or flowers.”

“Ok, I’ll do that,” she said.

“Thanks for letting me kno
w, Sam. I really appreciate it,” I told her sincerely.

“You’re welcome. And by the way, I don’t know if I should bring this up, but I did ask Husky about Mick being married, and his reaction was, ‘
What? I thought he got a divorce
.’ So, if it makes you feel any better, Husky had no idea Mick was still married.”

“Well, I guess that’s something.” I sighed. “I’ll probably call Mick later this week and give him more of a chance to explain. I haven’t made any real decisions about any of this yet.”

Samantha sounded sad, “I hope this works out for you, Susan. Larry and I like Mick a lot, but you know we
love
you, and we want you to be happy.”

“Thanks, Sam. Tell Larry I said hello, and thanks again for all the information.” We said our good-byes, and I closed my phone.

Darby would be back shortly, and I would fill him in about Jerry, but I had a nagging thought in the back of my mind that the man from Thursday nights was somehow involved in his death. I didn’t know how I could find out anything while I was in Florida, but I was definitely going to look into it when we got home.

We were speeding south on I-76 on our way to the boat races in Sarasota. All four windows of the Fusion were down, the wind was whipping around inside the car, but my hair wasn’t getting tangled this time. I had pulled it back into a ponytail, twisted it, and clipped it onto the top of my head. I would let it down once we reached our destination, but for now, it was safe from the wind.

It was a perfect summer day. The temperature had dropped to a more normal 87°, and the humidity was more bearable after the rain had come through last evening.

“Do you think you should slow down a little bit?” I prodded Darby. After a year of too many tickets, I was more aware of speeding. At least I was when I wasn’t out of my mind with anger and driving while freaked out.

“Nah, everything is under
control,” he said smiling. “Have you ever been to the boat races?”

“No, I haven’t,” I told him. “
What can I expect? Do they drive around in a circle like at NASCAR?”

Darby chuckled. “No. Today we’re going to see some powerboat drag racing. I think they’re running the quarter-mile today. The boats are killer, and they can run the quarter mile over 200 miles per hour – in about four seconds. You have to see it to believe it. And no one likes to see a crash, but if a driver loses control, accidents do happen.”

“Ok,” I said. “This sounds like fun. I’ve been to the drag races before. A friend of mine from school ran a classic Mustang at Norwalk, and he let me ride down the track with him once. I almost had him convinced to let me drive the next -”

B
efore I could finish my sentence, a green Sonic zipped up on our right and moved into our lane. Darby laid on the horn. “Come on, buddy, get over,” he yelled. But the car continued into our lane forcing us onto the grassy median between the northbound and southbound lanes. The back of the car fishtailed, and I was sure we were going to lose control. A bridge abutment was just ahead. I put my hands out to brace myself. I glanced at Darby and saw he had a steely look of determination as he hit the gas and sped up. I felt myself starting to scream as I was sure he was propelling us into the abutment. I closed my eyes awaiting the inevitable impact, but there was no collision. Darby had managed to maintain control and pull out from the grass and back onto the highway. The green Sonic was far down the highway now.

“Darby! W
hat happened back there?” I screeched. “Do you think that guy saw you or heard the horn? How did you keep us from crashing?” I was still gripping the dash.

“It wasn’t a guy. It was a woman,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Was it an old woman who simply didn’t see us?” I asked. I had heard the most dangerous drivers on the roadways in Florida were the elderly. I was starting to relax my grip now that I realized we were safe.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “I couldn’t see if she was on her phone or distracted, but she was behind us in the middle lane, so she had to see us when she moved up and forced herself into our lane.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she did it on purpose.”

“How did you learn to drive like that?” I asked him. I was breathing
more normally now. “If I would have been driving, I would have slammed on the brakes, let go of the wheel, covered my eyes, and hoped for the best.”

He smiled and said, “My dad wou
ldn’t let me drive until several defensive driving classes were under my belt. I enjoyed them so much, I’ve taken a few racing courses over the years. Did you know that when you’re driving fast, you should accelerate coming out of your turn rather than going into it? And in a situation like we just faced, braking can sometimes be more dangerous than accelerating out of the problem and getting back onto the roadway. I wish I would have had another way out. One of the worst things you can do is leave the roadway at any time. Your chances of crashing into something are much higher than if you can stay on the road. If she would have waited another 15 seconds to move into our lane, we would have either caused a pile-up or met the bridge abutment personally.”

The thought caused a shudder to run through my body.

The rest of the drive was uneventful, and we arrived at the races in one piece. We had great seats in the grandstands, and I thought the races were both exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. Thankfully, there were no accidents.

We
brought a small cooler of sodas with us, but with the heat, we had consumed them after a couple of hours. Darby turned to me and said, “Susan, I’m going to run down and get us a couple of drinks. How about a cold beer?”

I wasn’t much of a beer drinker, but a cold
one sounded really good out here in the hot sun, “Sure, and a snack, too?” I asked with a pretty-please smile.

He laughed and said, “I’m on it.”

There was a lull in the action, so I took some time to look around at the people attending the races. The stands weren’t filled to capacity, but there was a large crowd. I was surprised at the number of teenagers and senior citizens in attendance. The drag-racing crowd at home was mostly in the 20 to 50 age range, but boat racing was a popular sport in Florida, and all ages seemed to enjoy the races.

I spotted a guy and girl
enjoying a moment a few rows below me. He had put his arm around her and was pulling her close for a kiss. It dawned on me that it was refreshing not to have guys trolling the front of the stands with signs that read,
Show Us Your
… wait a minute … was that the skinny guy?

I had just
caught a glimpse of a skinny guy with dark, shoulder-length, curly hair as he was sitting down. He was six rows in front of our seats and off to the right by almost ten people. From the back, he looked like the skinny guy from the restaurant and the beach. Could this be a coincidence? It seemed odd he would be here at the same time we were.

Darby poked me to take my beer and nachos. He settled back down into his seat.

“Look down below us several rows and to the right,” I told him. “I’m sure the skinny guy from the restaurant is here.” I tried to point him out, but I could no longer find him. “I know I saw him a minute ago. Don’t you think it’s weird he’s here, too?”

“Not really,” he said shoveling nachos into his mouth. “These races have been advertised all over the state.”

Maybe he was right. Why did I care the skinny guy was here? For all I knew, the family with the two kids could be here, too. The action started again, and we enjoyed the last few races. The cold beer had hit the spot and nachos always tasted better at sporting events.

We got up to leave, and I suddenly felt lightheaded and noticed some weakness in my arms and
legs. “Darby, wait, something’s wrong,” I said sinking back into my seat. “I don’t feel well.”

“It’s probably from too much sun and the beer,” he said. “If I help you, do you think you can make it down the steps and to the car?”

“I can try,” I said as I stood and nearly lost my balance.

He had to practically hold me up all the way down the steps. When we got to the parking lot, I simply couldn’t walk any more.