Read Online Island of Bones by P.J. Parrish - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: P.J. Parrish
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who I say it is.”
But he wanted it to be somebody. “How many old baby skulls could there be out there?” he said with a smile.
Bessie shook her head. “This place is built on skeletons, young man. Millions of humans, millions of sea animals, dead and gone. Florida is just one big long island of bones.”
She switched off the light and for a second the water lapping on the pilings below his feet made Louis think of someone sighing.
“Come on,” Bessie said. “I’ll motor you back to land.”
CHAPTER 11
Louis sat up in the Mustang’s seat and rubbed his neck. He checked his watch. After seven. Five hours of sitting down the block from Frank Woods’s house, another wasted day. The only thing the guy had done all day was take out his trash.
Enough of this shit . He turned the ignition, but saw a blue Honda pull into Frank’s drive. Diane got out and went to the front door.
Saturday...another one of their weekly dinners together. He shut off the motor and waited. Five minutes later, they came out and left in Diane’s car. He followed them to the Shoney’s restaurant on Cleveland Avenue and waited until they got inside. This time, he decided to go in and watch them.
He wasn’t sure why. Maybe just to see if Frank was acting squirrely or to get some sense of their relationship. Diane had clearly been upset after their dinner last week. Maybe it had finally dawned on her what might happen if her father did turn out to be a killer and she regretted having him watched. People who hired Louis often came to regret it.
He had discovered that relatives really didn’t want to know the truth —- whether it was about a cheating spouse or a violent weirdo hanging out in the far branches of the family tree. If Frank Woods turned out to be a killer, it was a sure bet that his daughter wasn’t going to be happy knowing that the same bad blood ran through her own veins.
He spotted them in a corner booth. Diane looked tired and distracted. Frank was hunched over, staring vacantly out the window. Louis slipped into a booth nearby, out of their sight lines. He ordered a cup of coffee and sat back to watch.
Frank lit a cigarette. Diane made a face and said something. Frank turned his face to blow the smoke away from her. They both hid behind their menus.
They spoke and Louis strained to hear. Diane was asking her father how his job was. He shrugged and muttered something, tapping the cigarette in the ashtray. Diane folded her hands in front of her face and looked at her father. She was facing Louis and he could see her expression. Exasperation? Or worse, contempt?
There were more attempts at talk, but they always trailed off into silences. The waitress brought their meals. Fish and salad for Diane. A big cheeseburger and fries for Frank. They began to eat, seemingly grateful for something to do.
Diane said something and Frank shook his head slowly. She leaned forward, still talking. Frank kept his eyes on his plate.
Her words rose over the clatter of dishes. “I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be,” he said.
“But you’re —-”
“Let it be, Diane. Just let it be.”
Frank pushed his plate away and leaned back in the booth, lighting a fresh cigarette. Diane went back to moving the food around on her plate, her eyes downcast.
The waitress came up to Louis’s table with the coffeepot. He shook his head. He had drunk five cups already and had nothing to show for this night but a bursting bladder.
Frank got up. Diane did, too, picking up the bill.
Thank God...
Louis waited until they were outside, then left. They were standing by Diane’s Honda, talking, this time with more animation. Louis had no way of getting closer to hear without showing himself, so he stayed behind the bushes.
Suddenly, he saw Diane put her hands to her eyes. She turned abruptly and got behind the wheel of her car. Frank stood there for a moment, eyes on the ground, cigarette in hand. Then he crushed the glowing
But he wanted it to be somebody. “How many old baby skulls could there be out there?” he said with a smile.
Bessie shook her head. “This place is built on skeletons, young man. Millions of humans, millions of sea animals, dead and gone. Florida is just one big long island of bones.”
She switched off the light and for a second the water lapping on the pilings below his feet made Louis think of someone sighing.
“Come on,” Bessie said. “I’ll motor you back to land.”
CHAPTER 11
Louis sat up in the Mustang’s seat and rubbed his neck. He checked his watch. After seven. Five hours of sitting down the block from Frank Woods’s house, another wasted day. The only thing the guy had done all day was take out his trash.
Enough of this shit . He turned the ignition, but saw a blue Honda pull into Frank’s drive. Diane got out and went to the front door.
Saturday...another one of their weekly dinners together. He shut off the motor and waited. Five minutes later, they came out and left in Diane’s car. He followed them to the Shoney’s restaurant on Cleveland Avenue and waited until they got inside. This time, he decided to go in and watch them.
He wasn’t sure why. Maybe just to see if Frank was acting squirrely or to get some sense of their relationship. Diane had clearly been upset after their dinner last week. Maybe it had finally dawned on her what might happen if her father did turn out to be a killer and she regretted having him watched. People who hired Louis often came to regret it.
He had discovered that relatives really didn’t want to know the truth —- whether it was about a cheating spouse or a violent weirdo hanging out in the far branches of the family tree. If Frank Woods turned out to be a killer, it was a sure bet that his daughter wasn’t going to be happy knowing that the same bad blood ran through her own veins.
He spotted them in a corner booth. Diane looked tired and distracted. Frank was hunched over, staring vacantly out the window. Louis slipped into a booth nearby, out of their sight lines. He ordered a cup of coffee and sat back to watch.
Frank lit a cigarette. Diane made a face and said something. Frank turned his face to blow the smoke away from her. They both hid behind their menus.
They spoke and Louis strained to hear. Diane was asking her father how his job was. He shrugged and muttered something, tapping the cigarette in the ashtray. Diane folded her hands in front of her face and looked at her father. She was facing Louis and he could see her expression. Exasperation? Or worse, contempt?
There were more attempts at talk, but they always trailed off into silences. The waitress brought their meals. Fish and salad for Diane. A big cheeseburger and fries for Frank. They began to eat, seemingly grateful for something to do.
Diane said something and Frank shook his head slowly. She leaned forward, still talking. Frank kept his eyes on his plate.
Her words rose over the clatter of dishes. “I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be,” he said.
“But you’re —-”
“Let it be, Diane. Just let it be.”
Frank pushed his plate away and leaned back in the booth, lighting a fresh cigarette. Diane went back to moving the food around on her plate, her eyes downcast.
The waitress came up to Louis’s table with the coffeepot. He shook his head. He had drunk five cups already and had nothing to show for this night but a bursting bladder.
Frank got up. Diane did, too, picking up the bill.
Thank God...
Louis waited until they were outside, then left. They were standing by Diane’s Honda, talking, this time with more animation. Louis had no way of getting closer to hear without showing himself, so he stayed behind the bushes.
Suddenly, he saw Diane put her hands to her eyes. She turned abruptly and got behind the wheel of her car. Frank stood there for a moment, eyes on the ground, cigarette in hand. Then he crushed the glowing
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