Blood Foam (Lewis Cole Book 9) by Brendan DuBois

Author:Brendan DuBois [DuBois, Brendan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn River Publishing
Published: 2024-02-13T00:00:00+00:00

I got into his car, started the engine, winced as my sore right hand grasped the steering wheel. Yeah, I was sorry about injuring the hand I use to hold my Beretta, but that was about the only thing I was sorry for. I drove out of the space, went up a short dirt driveway, and a dirt road was in front of me. Left or right? I chose right.

The road was bumpy, not well maintained at all, and I passed three more uninhabited cottages before the road ended in a wide spot and a dirt berm. “We chose poorly,” I muttered as I backed up and turned around.

I went past the three cottages again, past the chalet that was still in mid- construction phase, and then past two very large homes that looked out of place with their neighbors. The trees and brush thinned out, and then I came out onto a paved road and turned right, heading to the beach.

It only took a couple of minutes, and up ahead I saw the beach, and I saw a State Police cruiser, blocking the road, lights flashing, the state trooper standing outside of her cruiser, speaking urgently into a microphone. There was no Honda CRV in sight, so it looked like the bikers had made an escape. I slowed down, switched on the turn indicator, and then went down the dirt road I had earlier strolled on, looking for a boat.

This time I found Mark, standing in the middle of the dirt road, hands in pockets. I drove up to him, lowered the driver’s side window. “Looking for a ride, sailor?”

“Hah,” he said. “Very funny.”

He started toward the passenger’s door, and I said, “Hold on. Everything back to where it belongs?”

“The boats are tied up. Nobody’s home. There was an envelope here with your name on it at the back door. Let’s go.”

I took the envelope, removed my driver’s license, put it back in my wallet. I put the Mazda in park, switched off the engine, got out. “When you rented the boat, where was it? Was it at the dock?”

“No, it was underneath the guy’s back deck. Covered with a tarp.”

“Same with me. You saw how old he was. You think he can haul both boats up by himself?”

He turned and walked to the lake, and so did I.

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