Read Online Under the Boardwalk: A Dazzling Collection of All New Summertime Love Stories by Geralyn Dawson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Geralyn Dawson
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the deepest tracks, but he could still make out at least three more sets of tracks besides the ones he knew about.
Now, why would there be so much river traffic up here? The fishing wasn't good, and right past Lilah's the river got too shallow for boat traffic. He tried to think of a logical explanation for the tracks. Being in law enforcement, his first thought was that maybe drug dealers were meeting here, but he discarded that idea. It was too open, and though Old Boggy Road wasn't the busiest road in the world, there was occasional traffic on it. As if to prove it, at that moment a fanner drove by in a pickup truck, and he craned his neck to see what was going on.
No, drug dealers would find a place where they were less likely to attract attention. So… who was coming here, and why?
He strolled over to Lowell and Alvin. "This little ramp gets a lot of use, doesn't it?"
"A fair amount," Lowell agreed.
"Why?"
They both gaped at him. "Why?" Alvin echoed.
"Yeah. Why does it get so much use? Only someone who doesn't know the river would come up here to fish."
To his surprise, both deputies shifted uncomfortably. Lowell cleared his throat. "I guess folks go to visit Lilah."
"Miss Jones?" Jackson clarified, wanting to make certain there wasn't another Lilah in the area.
Lowell nodded.
Looking around the area, Jackson said, "From all these tire ruts, I'd say she gets a lot of company." He tried to picture a steady stream of visitors to Lilah's isolated little house upriver, but just couldn't.
"Some," Lowell agreed. "A lot of women go to see her." He coughed. "And—uh, some men too, I guess."
"Why is that?" A variety of wild reasons ran through his mind. Marijuana? He couldn't see Lilah growing marijuana, but the place was certainly isolated enough. He didn't let himself seriously consider that. Women didn't go to backwoods women for abortions anymore, either, so that was out. Nothing illegal, for sure, because his deputies obviously knew about whatever was going on up there, and had done nothing to stop it. The only thing he could think of that made sense was so ridiculous he couldn't believe it.
"Don't tell me she really is a witch!" He could just see it now, boat after boat making its way upriver for spells and potions. She had denied the witch thing, said she didn't know anything about spells, but in his experience people lied all the time. He dealt with serial liars on a dairy basis.
"Nothing like that," Alvin said hastily. "She's kind of an old-time healer. You know, she makes poultices and stuff."
Poultices and stuff. Healer. Of course. It was so obvious, Jackson wondered that he hadn't seen it. Relief spread through him. His imagination had been running wild, a sick feeling congealing in his gut. He had just found her, a woman who appealed to him on every level, and he couldn't bear the thought of her being involved in something shifty. He didn't know where this thing between him and Lilah was going, but he intended to follow it to the end.
"It's how she makes her living," Lowell said. "People buy herbs and things from her. A lot of folks go to her rather than a doctor, because she's so good at telling them what's wrong."
He wanted to grin. Instead he collected his vest and shotgun from the boat, and said, "Well, let's go round up Thaniel Vargas. Even if we get the boats back and Jerry Watkins doesn't press charges against him, I want to scare about ten years off the bastard's life."
----
Chapter 8
Thaniel Vargas was nowhere to be found. He had gone to ground somewhere, Jackson figured, waiting for the trouble to blow over. Because things were still kind of busy in the county, with the continuing power outage in Pine Flats and cleaning up from the storm, Jackson couldn't devote a lot of time or manpower to finding him.
More than anything, he wanted to get back upriver to Lilah's house, but it just wasn't possible that day. Besides the problems from the storm, the blue moon craziness was still in
Now, why would there be so much river traffic up here? The fishing wasn't good, and right past Lilah's the river got too shallow for boat traffic. He tried to think of a logical explanation for the tracks. Being in law enforcement, his first thought was that maybe drug dealers were meeting here, but he discarded that idea. It was too open, and though Old Boggy Road wasn't the busiest road in the world, there was occasional traffic on it. As if to prove it, at that moment a fanner drove by in a pickup truck, and he craned his neck to see what was going on.
No, drug dealers would find a place where they were less likely to attract attention. So… who was coming here, and why?
He strolled over to Lowell and Alvin. "This little ramp gets a lot of use, doesn't it?"
"A fair amount," Lowell agreed.
"Why?"
They both gaped at him. "Why?" Alvin echoed.
"Yeah. Why does it get so much use? Only someone who doesn't know the river would come up here to fish."
To his surprise, both deputies shifted uncomfortably. Lowell cleared his throat. "I guess folks go to visit Lilah."
"Miss Jones?" Jackson clarified, wanting to make certain there wasn't another Lilah in the area.
Lowell nodded.
Looking around the area, Jackson said, "From all these tire ruts, I'd say she gets a lot of company." He tried to picture a steady stream of visitors to Lilah's isolated little house upriver, but just couldn't.
"Some," Lowell agreed. "A lot of women go to see her." He coughed. "And—uh, some men too, I guess."
"Why is that?" A variety of wild reasons ran through his mind. Marijuana? He couldn't see Lilah growing marijuana, but the place was certainly isolated enough. He didn't let himself seriously consider that. Women didn't go to backwoods women for abortions anymore, either, so that was out. Nothing illegal, for sure, because his deputies obviously knew about whatever was going on up there, and had done nothing to stop it. The only thing he could think of that made sense was so ridiculous he couldn't believe it.
"Don't tell me she really is a witch!" He could just see it now, boat after boat making its way upriver for spells and potions. She had denied the witch thing, said she didn't know anything about spells, but in his experience people lied all the time. He dealt with serial liars on a dairy basis.
"Nothing like that," Alvin said hastily. "She's kind of an old-time healer. You know, she makes poultices and stuff."
Poultices and stuff. Healer. Of course. It was so obvious, Jackson wondered that he hadn't seen it. Relief spread through him. His imagination had been running wild, a sick feeling congealing in his gut. He had just found her, a woman who appealed to him on every level, and he couldn't bear the thought of her being involved in something shifty. He didn't know where this thing between him and Lilah was going, but he intended to follow it to the end.
"It's how she makes her living," Lowell said. "People buy herbs and things from her. A lot of folks go to her rather than a doctor, because she's so good at telling them what's wrong."
He wanted to grin. Instead he collected his vest and shotgun from the boat, and said, "Well, let's go round up Thaniel Vargas. Even if we get the boats back and Jerry Watkins doesn't press charges against him, I want to scare about ten years off the bastard's life."
----
Chapter 8
Thaniel Vargas was nowhere to be found. He had gone to ground somewhere, Jackson figured, waiting for the trouble to blow over. Because things were still kind of busy in the county, with the continuing power outage in Pine Flats and cleaning up from the storm, Jackson couldn't devote a lot of time or manpower to finding him.
More than anything, he wanted to get back upriver to Lilah's house, but it just wasn't possible that day. Besides the problems from the storm, the blue moon craziness was still in
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