Read Online Collateral Damage by H. Terrell Griffin - Free Book Online Page B

planning to go with Logan and me next time we went out. I finished the beer, paid my tab, shook hands with Billy, and went home.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
    Only I didn’t go home. I stopped at Tiny’s, the small bar on the edge of the Village that served as sort of a clubhouse for the northenders. It was quiet with only a few people huddled at the bar. I knew them all, the late night denizens of the Village and one mid-key condo dweller, my buddy Logan Hamilton. I hadn’t seen much of him lately. He was in love and spent much of his time with his lady, Marie Phillips, who lived in one of the high-rises on the south end of the key.
    â€œYou get dumped?” I asked as I slid onto an empty stool between him and Les Fulcher.
    â€œRight. How would she ever replace me? She had one of those girlie things tonight. Dinner at Michaels and drinks at Marina Jack.”
    â€œGirlie thing?” “Yeah, you know. The girls get together and gossip. Marie probably likes to tell them how great I am in the sack.”
    â€œJust another group of nice people lying to each other, huh?”
    â€œWell, exaggerating, maybe. Just a little.”
    I turned to Les. “How’s retirement?”
    â€œLots of fishing.”
    â€œCatching anything?”
    â€œNot much.”
    â€œI haven’t seen you lately. I heard you’ve been off island for a while.”
    â€œYeah. For two months. Went to Guam.”
    â€œGuam? What’s a broken-down firefighter doing in Guam?”
    â€œBroken-down my ass. I retired in the peak of health. Still got my youthful glow. I am the epitome of boyish exuberance.”
    â€œHow’s the knee?”
    â€œGotta get it replaced. I go in the hospital the first of the month.”
    â€œSo why Guam?”
    â€œI’ve got a buddy out there and I spent some time fishing and diving.”
    â€œWhen did you get back?”
    â€œYesterday.”
    â€œI guess you heard about the murders we had last month.”
    â€œYeah. I knew Jake Prather,
Dulcimer
’s captain. He used to live next door to me in the Village.”
    â€œSorry about your loss.”
    â€œI hadn’t heard anything about it until I got in yesterday. I went to see Janice, his widow, this morning.”
    â€œHow’s she doing?”
    â€œShe’s doing okay, I guess. Jake had some life insurance. Not much, but it’ll see Janice through. Did you know them?”
    â€œNo. I knew the name and I knew he ran
Dulcimer
, but I don’t think I ever met him.”
    The conversation turned back to inconsequential things. Tiny’s owner, Susie Vaught, kept the beer coming and joined in the conversation. It was a pleasant evening on the downside of July, old friends gossiping, trading fishing spots, laughing at the crazy politics of our island. We decided that July was the safest month on the key since the Town Commission didn’t meet. All its members were up north somewhere trying to escape the heat.
    I was up early the next morning, jogging the beach as the sun rose over the mainland. I ran two miles south and turned for the trek back to my starting place. I left the beach and walked down Broadway and into the Village and home. The peacocks were roaming the streets hunting their breakfast. People were walking their dogs, waiting patiently while the animals sniffed the ground and found the best place to do their business. Full daylight was on us and the air was getting wetter with the humidity that always comes with the sun in summer.
    I showered, shaved, put on clean shorts and a T-shirt with the logo of a local restaurant and took my newspaper, coffee, and a muffin to the patio. It was still cool enough in the shade of the overhang to enjoy the outdoors. It was not yet eight o’clock.
    My phone rang. J.D. calling.
    â€œThe techies came up with some pictures from the elevator cameras at Tropical,” she said. “You want to see them?”
    â€œI’ve got coffee