Read Online Bitter Legacy: A Matt Royal Mystery (Matt Royal Mysteries) by H. Terrell Griffin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: H. Terrell Griffin
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reflected off the dark floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the bay, a mirrored effect caused by the darkness on the other side of the glass. A double mess. Finally, I moved forward, beckoning to the chief to follow. We toured the house. The place looked as if a tornado had blown through.
“You need some help cleaning this crap up?” Lester asked.
“No. I’ll call Joy Fitzpatrick tomorrow. She’ll get some women from her cleaning service in to take care of things.”
“I’ve got an idea.”
“What?”
“Beer. We need beer and Tiny’s is just down the street.”
“Can’t hurt.”
“Might help.”
“Probably will.”
“Then, let’s do it.”
And so we did.
MONDAY
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The coffeepot was where I’d left it. The coffee was in the refrigerator. I stumbled around trying to get coffee and water into the maker. It was touch and go. The beers at Tiny’s had turned into more than was good for me. I was feeling a little numb as I stumbled across the debris-strewn living room into the kitchen. The early morning light streaming through the windows did nothing for my mood. My head hurt, my hands shook, my stomach growled and did flip-flops when I moved. A monumental hangover. Never again. I’d never drink again. Right. Well, at least not that day. Damn Bill Lester and his bright ideas.
I threw some bacon and sausage into a frying pan, thinking that a little grease and coffee would help me regain some semblance of life. When the meat sizzled to a well-done hue, I took it out of the skillet, put it on a paper towel to drain, cracked four eggs into the pan and fried them over easy. Bread went into the toaster. When it was all done, I sat at the table and ate. I was feeling better. I went to the front door to get the morning paper, took it to the patio in back with a second cup of coffee, and breathed in the clean salt-laden air blowing gently off the bay. I was going to survive.
I’d slept on my mattress on the floor, a blanket thrown over me. Everything was in a shambles, but to be honest, I hadn’t really cared by the time I got home from Tiny’s.
The phone rang. I answered. Joy. “Two of my girls will be there in twenty minutes.”
“What?”
“To clean up the mess.”
“How’d you know?”
“Tiny’s telegraph.”
I groaned. I should have known. There are no secrets on the key, and if you want something done, you just need to mention it in Tiny’s. I must have said something to somebody while working on all those beers.
Joy laughed, a big laugh. “Patti said you were feeling a little chipper last night. Bet you’re not doing too well this morning.”
“Tell the girls to come on in. I’m going back to bed.” I hung up. Patti Colby was Joy’s friend and I knew I’d talked to her at some point the night before. Oh well, the house would get cleaned up and they didn’t need me. I looked at my watch. It was a little after eight. I headed for the bedroom.
The phone woke me at noon. Logan. “You still in bed?”
“Yeah.”
“Went to Tiny’s last night?”
“Yeah.”
“Feeling bad?”
“Yeah.”
“Get over it. I need you to come pick me up.”
“What’s going on?”
“I need to get my ass out of this hotel. Marie saw some strange looking guys in the lobby when she went down to get some stuff out of her car.”
“Strange? How?”
“Two of them. Both wearing jeans and T-shirts. Lots of tattoos.”
“Logan,” I said, “you’re not exactly staying at the Ritz-Carlton. Maybe they’re just guests.”
“Marie heard them ask about me. By name.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yeah. The desk clerk doesn’t have me registered, so he couldn’t tell them anything.”
“Where’s Marie now?”
“I just sent her home. I figured if there was going to be trouble I didn’t want her anywhere near it.”
“Maybe they were just checking all the hotels.”
“Then why are they sitting out in the parking lot on a couple of Harleys?”
“I see what you mean. I’ll be
“You need some help cleaning this crap up?” Lester asked.
“No. I’ll call Joy Fitzpatrick tomorrow. She’ll get some women from her cleaning service in to take care of things.”
“I’ve got an idea.”
“What?”
“Beer. We need beer and Tiny’s is just down the street.”
“Can’t hurt.”
“Might help.”
“Probably will.”
“Then, let’s do it.”
And so we did.
MONDAY
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The coffeepot was where I’d left it. The coffee was in the refrigerator. I stumbled around trying to get coffee and water into the maker. It was touch and go. The beers at Tiny’s had turned into more than was good for me. I was feeling a little numb as I stumbled across the debris-strewn living room into the kitchen. The early morning light streaming through the windows did nothing for my mood. My head hurt, my hands shook, my stomach growled and did flip-flops when I moved. A monumental hangover. Never again. I’d never drink again. Right. Well, at least not that day. Damn Bill Lester and his bright ideas.
I threw some bacon and sausage into a frying pan, thinking that a little grease and coffee would help me regain some semblance of life. When the meat sizzled to a well-done hue, I took it out of the skillet, put it on a paper towel to drain, cracked four eggs into the pan and fried them over easy. Bread went into the toaster. When it was all done, I sat at the table and ate. I was feeling better. I went to the front door to get the morning paper, took it to the patio in back with a second cup of coffee, and breathed in the clean salt-laden air blowing gently off the bay. I was going to survive.
I’d slept on my mattress on the floor, a blanket thrown over me. Everything was in a shambles, but to be honest, I hadn’t really cared by the time I got home from Tiny’s.
The phone rang. I answered. Joy. “Two of my girls will be there in twenty minutes.”
“What?”
“To clean up the mess.”
“How’d you know?”
“Tiny’s telegraph.”
I groaned. I should have known. There are no secrets on the key, and if you want something done, you just need to mention it in Tiny’s. I must have said something to somebody while working on all those beers.
Joy laughed, a big laugh. “Patti said you were feeling a little chipper last night. Bet you’re not doing too well this morning.”
“Tell the girls to come on in. I’m going back to bed.” I hung up. Patti Colby was Joy’s friend and I knew I’d talked to her at some point the night before. Oh well, the house would get cleaned up and they didn’t need me. I looked at my watch. It was a little after eight. I headed for the bedroom.
The phone woke me at noon. Logan. “You still in bed?”
“Yeah.”
“Went to Tiny’s last night?”
“Yeah.”
“Feeling bad?”
“Yeah.”
“Get over it. I need you to come pick me up.”
“What’s going on?”
“I need to get my ass out of this hotel. Marie saw some strange looking guys in the lobby when she went down to get some stuff out of her car.”
“Strange? How?”
“Two of them. Both wearing jeans and T-shirts. Lots of tattoos.”
“Logan,” I said, “you’re not exactly staying at the Ritz-Carlton. Maybe they’re just guests.”
“Marie heard them ask about me. By name.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yeah. The desk clerk doesn’t have me registered, so he couldn’t tell them anything.”
“Where’s Marie now?”
“I just sent her home. I figured if there was going to be trouble I didn’t want her anywhere near it.”
“Maybe they were just checking all the hotels.”
“Then why are they sitting out in the parking lot on a couple of Harleys?”
“I see what you mean. I’ll be
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