Read Online The Rivers Webb by Jeremy Tyler - Free Book Online Page B

fella’ that found the body in the first place.”
    By now, Earl had finished clearing out the boat, and was smiling broadly, as if he had just assumed command of the finest luxury liner in the world.
    John’s thoughts went back to that peacock sitting on the roof of his car. In a town where peacocks roamed free, the sheriff was one of the richest men in town, and your most reliable source of information was a self-proclaimed psychic, you just might as well get used to the idea that strange things were just going to keep getting thrown at you. He looked over to Deputy Dan Merrill, with that ear-to-ear grin daring him to back down, and right there made his decision.
    Walking bravely onto that crude dock, he seated himself as comfortably as possible in the center of the boat. Dan cast off the line and jumped in himself, and they were off.
    Surprisingly, the little craft proved not only seaworthy, but quite fast. Just as unexpected, Earl clearly knew what he was doing, as he guided them past fallen tree limbs and nearly invisible cypress knees poking out from the riverbed. Partly to pass the time, and partly to prove that the cobbled boat didn’t bother him, John yelled above the roar of the outboard to ask Earl questions.
    â€œHow long have you been running along this river?”
    â€œSince I was twelve, on my own. But my Daddy had me propped on the front o’ his old skiff soon as I could stand straight,” Earl yelled back, still smiling that broad, stupid grin.
    â€œWhich is why they say you know Parrott River better than anyone.”
    â€œTruth is truth, sir. I get pretty much ev’rything I need from ’er. What else I get, I buy with the money I get off of her.”
    â€œFair enough, then tell me this. Reverend Rivers was killed on Tuesday, but his body didn’t show up at Grandpappy Island, where you found him, until Saturday morning.”
    â€œYep,” was all Earl said. His eyes showed that he was getting uncomfortable with the question. And that was just fine with John.
    â€œThen answer me this one, Earl. Would it usually take something four days to float from the bridge to Grandpappy Island?”
    â€œNaw, not really.”
    â€œFunny, I was thinking the same thing. In fact, judging by the current, I wouldn’t guess that it would take more than five or six hours.”
    A strange look came across Earl then. He started to say something, then shut his mouth and squinted his eyes as if he saw something off to the left, then, far much more swiftly than John was comfortable, he veered the boat in that direction and started running toward the shore. At what John was certain was too late to matter, Earl shut off the engine and pulled the outboard’s prop out of the water.
    The boat glided to a sudden stop at what looked like a tangle of broken limbs under the water. John started to shout, but before he could say anything, Earl had scooped up a long-handled hook and thrust it down among the tangle. As both John and Dan looked on in confusion, Earl poked around furiously. Then, with a smile and a triumphant spit into the water, Earl pulled up a swollen, matted clump.
    John looked over to Dan, half expecting that now familiar “I-Told-You-So” grin. But Dan only shrugged. Clearly, this had him just as confused.
    â€œRaccoon,” Earl stated simply, as if this explained everything. “See, them coons, they like to hang out along the riverside, on account o’ they got a warsh ev’erthing they eat. Only, we got’s river otters that are real territorial. They don’t like nothin’ or nobody to get too close to where they got their little babies.”
    Again, that look on his face. As if asking, “don’t you get it?” Exasperated, Earl went on.
    â€œWhen a coon gets too close to a otter’s home, they get mad, only the damned ol’ coon, he’s too stubborn to back off. They usually end up dead, in the river. I