Starks' Reality (11 page)

“You want me to
just fax it over?” she asked.

“No, I want to meet with him.”

The woman nodded.

“I’ll talk to Red this afternoon,” he said.

“Yes, Chief.”

The air had warmed since the day before, but clouds gathering on the horizon promised rain. Jake sniffed the ozone-laden air and smiled as he slid behind the wheel of the squad car. He liked rain.

He didn’t really expect to find Heather at the bar, but decided to check there first anyway. To his surprise, she stood on the porch, leaning against a post, watching the sky. She straightened as he drove into the parking lot. Her eyes glistened with anticipation to match his own. Maybe he should blow off the report until after he’d hauled her off to bed.

No, that wasn’t what he
should
do. If was, however, what he wanted to do. He stepped out of the car.

“Hi,” she said.

After glancing around to make sure they were alone, he climbed the stairs and stopped in front of her. “You okay?”

“Yes.”

He studied her face, lingering on her tempting lips.

Her cheeks turned red. Damn, she was cute when she blushed.

“Look,” she said, shoving her hands in her pockets, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

He handed her the folder. “You’re supposed to read this and sign it, if you agree.”

She frowned at the folder. “I’m not talking about—”

Jake reached out and lifted her chin. She looked at him with wide eyes. “I know what you’re talking about,” he said, softly. “Maybe you should come over to my place tonight after you close and we should discuss it.”

She stared at him for a moment before she nodded.

He winked at her, which made her blush again.

“Now, let’s go inside so you can look at this statement.”

He followed her into the bar and sat on a stool as she perched on the one beside him. She opened the folder and read the report closely.

“Will this go to court?” she asked.

“Unless they plea out.”

She nodded.

Jake handed her the pen from his shirt pocket and Heather signed the bottom of the page
. She closed the folder and gave it back to him.

“What are you doing over here so early?” he asked.

“Coop was out late. I thought I’d let him sleep.”

He returned the pen to his pocket.

“What now?” she asked.

“I’m taking the report to the sheriff’s office.”

“Will you be back for lunch?”

“Depends on what you’re serving.”

She shrugged. “BLT’s and burgers.”

“That’s it, huh?” He raised one eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“Too bad.” He lean
ed over and stole a quick kiss, enjoying the feel of her warm lips against his. “I was hoping for something more personal.”

She laughed.

Nearly intoxicated with anticipation, Jake climbed back into the car and turned on the FM radio as he headed out. He located a rock station out of Corpus and cranked it up. With his arm resting on the windowsill, he turned north on the highway.

Before the night ended, he’d have Heather in his arms again. This time, he’d do a lot more than
frisk
her. Maybe he should pick up a bottle of wine. One glass wouldn’t hurt.

Jake
smacked the steering wheel. He hadn’t thought about protection. He’d have to stop at a drugstore somewhere.

But it wouldn’t look good if he stopped in the squad car to pick up condoms. He’d wait until after he got home. Then again, he wasn’t about to buy condoms in the drug store in Port Boyer. Word would be all over town in no time.

Damn
.

Twisting in the seat, Jake felt his front pocket and found it full of change. If he located a machine in a restroom somewhere, he’d buy what he could.

He shook his head and laughed. What a crazy way to start a date.

Or whatever the hell it was.

~~**~~**~~

Heather turned her head to one side
and then the other, checking her reflection for zits. Thankfully, she didn’t see any. She pushed back loose strands of hair and tucked them behind her ears. Then she held her hands out and found them both shaking.

S
he shook her head in disgust and left the restroom. How would she possibly make it through the entire day in this condition?

“He’s just a man,” she said quietly.

But saying it didn’t make it so. No matter what she told herself, he was much more. He was the sexiest human being she’d ever met. The sight of him made her knees weak. And he radiated strength. When he stood close and looked into her eyes, she wanted to pull a Scarlet O’Hara and swoon.

Of course, she wouldn’t. If he wanted her, he’d have to accept the fact that she wasn’t a wimp. At least, most of the time.

The back door slammed and Heather peeked around the corner. Coop walked in, cringing and stepping gingerly.

“Are you all right?” Heather asked.

“My head,” he said in a gravelly voice.

She pulled a bottle of aspirin out from under the counter, shook out two, and filled a glass with water. “Serves you right,” she said. “Coop, you’re going to get seriously hurt someday.”

He took the aspirin from her, swallowed them, and chased them down with water. Then he handed the glass back.

“Ooh,” he groaned, lifting his fingers to the back of his head. “I think I hit something.”

Heather pulled his hand away and examined a crusted lump on his scalp at the base of his skull. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. I was out at the dock, looking around—”

“Looking around?”

“Well, having a drink or two and looking around. I remember sitting down to enjoy the view, then I don’t remember anything else. I woke up and it was the middle of the night.”

“Jeez, Coop, come over here where I can see and let me check this.”

The thought of him passing out
and hitting his head while on the dock terrified her. He could have fallen into the water and drowned. What would she have done then?

~~**~~**~~

Sheriff Evans, a slender man about five-nine, with short, graying hair and wire-rimmed glasses, wore a neatly pressed uniform that matched his immaculate desk. He reminded Jake of Kenny, but with self-confidence and authority.

“Nice to meet you,” Evans said, shaking Jake’s hand and motioning toward a chair.

“You, too.”

“Dave Tucker says good things about you.”

“Whatever Tucker told you was probably an exaggeration.”

“I looked up your record. You have quite a few commendations.”

Jake shrugged. At least one of those commendations hadn’t been deserved. “You know how it is. Sometimes you’re just in the right place at the right time.”

The sheriff smiled politely. “I hear you already had a little trouble out your way.”

“A little. I gave Deputy Sagin the report.”

“Good. So, is there something I can do for you?”

“Tucker mentioned that your office has been trying to bust some traffickers for a while, without much luck.”

The man straightened a picture frame on the corner of his desk and frowned. “We’ve made all kinds of minor busts for possession, but we can’t find the source. There have been several fairly reliable reports suggesting that someone brings boatloads of marijuana and cocaine in through one of the bays in this area, but we just can’t catch them in the act. Chief Boudreaux was keeping an eye on Port Boyer’s dock. I’d appreciate it if you did the same.”

“Of course, I’ll be glad to. If you get any good leads, let me know and we’ll jump right in.”

“That’s fine.”

Jake rose as Sheriff Evans did, and they shook hands again.

“Thanks for stopping in,” Evans said, all business. Jake doubted they’d spend much time sipping coffee together, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

As he turned the corner to the front hallway, he nearly collided with Deputy Sagin.

“Chief.
What are you doing here?”

“Dropping off statements.”

“You could have faxed them,” Sagin said.

“I wanted to meet Evans.”

“How’d it go?”

Jake shrugged. “The meeting was…cool.”

Sagin chuckled. “Yeah, he’s a tough nut to crack. Well, if you need anything, just give me a call. You’ve got my number.”

“Will do. Thanks.” He shook Sagin’s hand,
and then headed down the hall. Good to have at least one friendly face in the sheriff’s office.

Jake
put on his hat at the door and pulled it low on his forehead. He only had one more stop to make on the way back to Port Boyer in order to be ready for a late evening with Heather.

CHAPTER
8

H
ow could there not be a single condom dispenser in thirty-five miles of highway? Jake had hit five gas stations, two diners, and a state rest area. Nothing.

Dammit
.

H
e’d just have to go to the drug store and count on Mr. Davies to be discreet. Not that he held out a lot of hope for discretion, but he also didn’t have any choice.

He drove past the office and continued toward the end of the road, opting for a quick cup of coffee first. And a BLT sounded good; one o’clock in the morning was still a long way off.

Come to think of it, hadn’t he seen a dispenser in the men’s room at Coop’s? Maybe that was the answer to his problem. He rounded the corner and turned into the parking lot.

Heather and Coop stood on the front porch talking to Tran’s three sons. The oldest one pointed toward the dock as he spoke.
Something was wrong. Even Heather was frowning.

Jake
stepped out of the car and climbed the stairs.

“Man, am I glad you’re here,” Coop said.

“What’s up?”

Huey Tran stepped forward. “My father is missing.”

“Since when?”

“He went out on his boat at eight o’clock last night, and he hasn’t come back,” Huey said.

The young man was, indeed, older than Jake had first thought. Although he had a baby face, his eyes betrayed his age.

“Why was he out on his boat last night?”

“He went to check on the oysters.”

“
What do you mean, check on them?”

“He’s sure someone put contaminated oysters in the beds he uses.”

“When did you expect him back?” Jake asked.

“By eleven. He said he would only be gone for a few hours.”

“And you’re just now reporting this?”

Hue
y’s eyes grew large. “My brothers and I searched everywhere.”

Jake looked out toward the bay. “All right. I’ll call the Coast Guard and the Sheriff’s Department. Huey, you go home and wait. If your father shows up, call me right away.”

“Yes, sir.” The young man herded his brothers in front of him and into the battered pickup truck. They drove away as Jake hurried to his car.

“You know,” Coop said, “your department has a boat.”

Jake glanced back. “It does?”

Coop nodded.

“Okay, thanks.”

Coop continued forward, followed by Heather.
“I have a boat, too,” he said. “I can help.”

If everyone in Port Boyer jumped into boats and started tooling around, the search would turn into a nightmare. Before long, they’d be looking for more missing boaters.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Right now, I’d rather stick with the authorities. It’s what they’re trained to do.”

Coop nodded. “You know where to find me.”

Jake glanced back at Heather before getting in the car. She looked worried.

In less than two minutes, he pulled
open the station door and rushed inside.

Red straightened behind his desk. “You want to talk to me?”

“Yes, but not now. Tran’s missing.”

“The old man?”

Jake nodded. “I understand we have a boat.”

“Well, sort of.”

“Meaning?”

“We have a boat, and it floats, and the outboard runs, but I think the propeller shaft is stripped. It goes nowhere fast.”

“Shit. How long has it been like that?”

“
A couple of years. Buddy Boudreaux didn’t much like boats.”

Jake took off his hat and raked his fingers through his hair. “Okay, I know where I can get a boat. You call the Coast Guard and
the sheriff’s office and coordinate with them. Tran went out on his boat about eight last night and never came back. He should have been back within a few hours.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“Any questions?”

“No,” Red said. “I’ll make the calls.”

Jake started toward the door, but turned back. “And don’t let a bunch of locals get out there in boats unless the Coast Guard coordinates it.”

“Sure
thing, Chief.”

Yanking his hat back on, Jake hurried from the office. The feeling in his gut, the one that was almost never wrong, told him that this would end badly.

~~**~~**~~

By two-thirty, Jake and Tucker were racing across the bay.

“The biggest oyster beds are out beyond the mouth,” Tucker said, yelling over the roaring motor.

Jake nodded,
noting the bank of dark clouds ahead of them.

The waves were worse this time. Tucker angled the boat and they rolled over the biggest swells. Once they were in flatter water, he
slowed.

Jake
leaned on the windshield for support and scanned the horizon with binoculars. Finding a small oyster boat in the Gulf of Mexico would be a challenge.

For an hour, they moved south along the coast, stopping every
few minutes to look.

“It’s not likely he’d go past here in a small boat in the dark,” Tucker said.

“How about north of the bay?”

“There aren’t any good oyster beds that way for miles.”

“I’d like to try anyway.”

Tucker narrowed his eyes. “Is that nose of yours onto something you haven’t told me about?”

“I don’t know,” Jake said.

“All right. Hold on.”

Tucker pulled a quick U-turn and headed north with the engine wide open. They skimmed the top of the water until they’d passed the bay. The boat slowed, rocking in the wake.

Jake studied the shore carefully. He saw something reflecting light, but couldn’t make it out; he pointed.

Tucker eased the boat toward a small inlet. As they moved forward, the bottom of a vessel came into view.

“Is that it?” Tucker asked.

“I don’t know. How close can you get me?”

“Hang on.”

They rode the waves in until the nose of the boat hit sand. Jake jumped out and waded ten feet to shore. He trotted along the edge of the water to the inlet.

The inlet was manmade, an excavation where a
culvert ran under an abandoned road. Tides had washed it out, producing a deep, muddy hole. The boat lay upside down with the winch arm wedged into mud.

Jake stopped when he saw feet in the grass at the edge of the water.

“Damn.” He walked carefully to the body, examining the shore. The ebbing tide left behind no prints or marks in sandy mud.

Tran lay on his stomach. Jake checked for a pulse, even though he knew he wouldn’t find one. Touching as little as was necessary, he raised Tran’s shoulder and rolled him onto his side. The man’s face, nearly unrecognizable, left little doubt he’d been beaten to death.

Returning Tran to his original position and then stepping carefully in his own tracks, Jake backed away about twenty feet before he turned toward the water.

“Find him?” Tucker yelled over the din of the waves.

“Yeah.”

“Dead?”

Jake nodded.

“I’ll call it in,” Tucker said.

Jake waded through the water to the side of the boat and climbed in. Tucker radioed the sheriff’s boat, already pulling away from the dock at Port Boyer.

“They’ll be right here,” he said. “They’re letting the Coast Guard know.”

“Son of a bitch,” Jake muttered, as he settled into the passenger’s seat.

~~**~~**~~

Heather stood beside her father, holding his arm. He leaned back against the police car.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get this sorted out,” she said.

He didn’t answer except to close his eyes for a moment.

The sheriff’s boat eased up to the pier, turning as it approached. Jake stood in the back, and two deputies rode in the front. When the boat stopped, Jake and a deputy lifted a black bag out and placed it on the dock.

Heather’s heart thumped at the realization that the bag held Tran’s body.

Jake glanced
at her and at Coop. Then he strode across the dock and frowned at Red. “What’s going on here?”

“It looks like Coop had a hand in this,” Red said.

“What?”

“We found his boat tied up to the main dock with blood in it. Deputy Sagin took samples.”

“It’s probably fish blood,” Jake said.

Deputy Sagin joined them. “Mr. Cooper says he washed his boat yesterday, and there are no signs that he was fishing last night.”

Jake approached the car, still frowning. “Coop?”

Coop just stared.

Jake turned to Heather.

“Tell them he didn’t do it,” she said. “You
know
he didn’t.”

“Coop, what happened?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Coop whispered.

“He got drunk and passed out,” Heather said. “That’s what happened. He didn’t do this. They should be questioning the Johnsons. They were in the bar yesterday, threatening Coop and Tran. Who knows where they were before they showed up at one in the morning? They’re the ones who did this, not Coop.”

Jake turned back to the growing group of officers.

“We know he was out until three this morning,” Deputy Sagin said. “His boat isn’t where it’s supposed to be, and it’s covered with blood. And Mr. Cooper was convicted of assaulting Mr. Tran less than a year ago.” The deputy shook his head. “We’ll check on the Johnsons, too, but right now things point to Mr. Cooper. We have to take him in.”

“Where’s he going?”

“To county lockup, for tonight at least.”

Heather couldn’t believe it, but Jake nodded. He turned around to face her.

Her stomach clenched
. She’d counted on him to sort things out, to tell them how absurd it all was. “You’re going to let them take him? He’s innocent.”

Jake frowned
as he gripped her arm. “Come on, Heather.”

She jerked her arm free. He expected her to just accept her father being hauled off to jail for no reason?

She turned to Coop, who leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Deuce,” he whispered. “Go home.”

Deputy Sagin pointed Coop toward the car.

The sight of her father in handcuffs broke her heart. Heather covered her mouth with her hand to keep from crying out.

Jake took her by the arm again and pulled her back as Coop eased into the back seat of the car with his head down. He didn’t look up as the car pulled away, red and blue lights flashing.

Red Daily shifted from one foot to the other. Heather couldn’t stand to look at him; he was probably glad her father had been arrested.

“Chief, I’ll help them load the body,” Red said.

Jake didn’t answer, but he must have nodded. As Red walked away, Jake turned Heather toward her house and they traversed the three blocks in silence. He held her arm the entire way.

At her house, he opened the kitchen door,
and led her in. The horror of what had happened hit her then and tears started in earnest. Tran was dead, and her father was being accused of killing him. Coop had been wrongly convicted before. What if it happened again? Heather covered her face and wept.

Jake
pulled her into his arms and held her. She clung to him and sobbed into his chest. He didn’t tell her not to cry, or even that everything would be all right. He simply held her.

The tears finally slowed and he
eased her into a chair.

Heather wiped her eyes
as Jake opened and closed cabinets. With her vision still blurred by tears, she couldn’t really see what he was doing, but he obviously found what he was looking for. He placed a glass of whiskey in front of her.

“This will help,” he said, as he sat.

Heather took a deep breath and upended the glass. She coughed as the unfamiliar burn hit her chest like a flaming brick.

Once she’d recovered from coughing, she did actually feel a little better. She frowned at the glass,
and then looked up to find Jake studying her. “Why did you let them take him?”

“I couldn’t stop them,” he said, “but I’m sure we’ll get it all sorted out tomorrow.”

“What about tonight? What am I supposed to do?”

“I suggest you stay here and try to relax.”

“I can’t do that. I left Skeet serving dinner, and he won’t touch the cash register.”

They both looked up at an ominous roll of thunder.

“Maybe you can close early.”

“I guess so.” She couldn’t imagine being able to smile and act like nothing was wrong while thinking about her father in a jail cell.

He stood. “I’ll stop by to check on you later.”

“Where are you going?”

He blew out a slow breath. “I have to notify Tran’s family.”