Listen to the Dead by Randall Peffer

Author:Randall Peffer [Peffer, Randall]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-935562-18-4
Publisher: F+W Media
Published: 2010-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

30

SHE’S RUNNING, bare feet hissing through the damp sand. The beach on Guana Cay is pale blue in the moonlight. The surf crashing on the reef, rolling back into the black sea.

She needs to be out here in the sultry tropic wind. Walking so that she can clear her head and think. Maybe she’s crazy to be on a deserted beach alone in the dark. But quien sabe? Right now she doesn’t want to be around that man. Any man.

She has left Church back on Fishers Bay in the little blue cottage that they rented from Troy at Dive Guana. Sleeping like a baby, a soft snore bubbling from his lips. The son of a bitch.

But she can’t sleep. Not even after the heat, the booze, the crazy revelations of this day. Too many questions, worries, strange stories from Remy racing through her mind.

Now what does she do? She walks. Briskly.

The way she sees it, she has three problems:

Paolo Costa. Corby Church. And where does she go from here?

Primero. Paolo Costa. Ok, she found him for Chi Chi, for the chief. But now what? Yeah, Costa is a pendejo, a slime ball. But he did not exactly cave in when he heard about Remy’s death. He was quick to deflect the blame. Create doubt in her mind, make her think Spencer Alpin or even Corby had as much motive and maybe more opportunity to kill the Princess.

And the guy has a weapon. A crummy little detective’s special. But still a gun. If he carries that in a bar, he is sure to have others where he lives. She has heard Corby’s stories about the M-16s, the AK-47, sawed-off shot guns. And where is it that he lives? On Guana? Or was he just visiting by boat for the day? She doesn’t know.

But one thing she does know. She has seen no police around on Guana. If she wants to talk to the local cops, she will have to take Albury’s Ferry about ten miles across the Sea of Abaco to the port of Marsh Harbour. And will they cooperate? It’s not like she’s here on official business. Doesn’t have any paperwork. No search warrant. No arrest warrant. No request for extradition of Paolo Costa. She was in too much of a rush to get down here and look for Costa to pull all the official paperwork together. It could have taken a week or more.

She’s here chasing a desperate hunch. A hunch that Costa will do something to show his guilt. Something crazy to get himself locked up. So then she can call her boss and Johnny Match, get the paperwork rolling to take Costa home.

Que loco! Fat chance! She’s seen it. The only justice on this island is a fierce bartender swinging a boat oar. But, hey, the man knows Costa’s name. So maybe if she goes back to Nippers she can find out a little more about Costa. Where he lives. His habits. Maybe he’s still running drugs.

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