River Blues by Doc Macomber

Author:Doc Macomber
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: pacific northwest, suspense novel, mysterymurder, love intrigue, suspense crime, detective team, ships captain, cargo vessel, river patrol deputy
Publisher: Floating Word Press, LLC.

Chapter 17

Colefield caught up to her outside the restaurant climbing into her jeep.

“Hey, Manning!” he shouted. “Hang on.”

The jeep had its top off and windows rolled down. A pair of dog tags hung from the rearview mirror. She closed the door and waited. Colefield jogged over.

“Forget your wallet?”

“Take a ride with me. There’s something I need to do before I head to the shed.”

She looked at her watch. “Hop in. My jeep has a better stereo.”

Colefield gave her directions. They drove down Front Avenue listening to Bluesville on Sirius XM. John Nemeth’s “Feeling’ Freaky” came on. Normally, he would have dug the sexy lyrics and bluesy harmonica but with Manning so close, it felt strange, like there was a message there. When they eventually turned onto Macadam, Manning broke the silence.

“I can’t sleep lately,” she said.

“Yeah, me, too.”

“We’re kind of a fucked-up pair.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“My ex is holding my dog hostage. How fucked up is that?”

“I’ll have a talk with him.”

“You don’t know him.”

“I’ll get him to see the light.”

“You’re about to make me cry, asshole.”

He pointed out the traffic light ahead. “Cross the Sellwood Bridge and make your first right. You’ll get through this…”

“I wanted to believe this relationship was going to be the one … and it turned out to be just the same as all the rest.”

Colefield coughed. Her words hit a deep cord. Maybe he was just reading too much into Jill’s silence.

He pointed where to turn. “Follow Harney Street down to the moorage.”

They parked near the ramp leading to the houseboats. Manning killed the engine and started to get out. Colefield reached over and affectionately touched her on the shoulder. “I’ll get your dog back, don’t worry.” He climbed out. Manning grabbed her keys and followed him.

They walked down the steep ramp, hopped over the gap in the catwalk, and took the narrow walkway to Montgomery’s. Colefield banged hard on the solid oak door and then pushed it open and went inside.

“Who goes there!” boomed Montgomery’s gravelly voice. “Intruders will be shot.”

“Bill — it’s me, Colefield.”

“Colefield Old Boy, you’re just in time,” he looked up from reading his newspaper in his tattered bathrobe. “And I see you have brought a lunch guest.”

“Beverley Manning allow me to introduce you to my landlord, William A Montgomery, Captain USMC, retired.”

Manning nearly stumbled over some trash in the galley as she made her way over to the where Montgomery was sitting in his wheelchair. Montgomery dropped the paper and reached for his cane. He wanted to stand to greet the deputy.

“What a pleasure,” he said and hobbled to his feet. They shook hands. “Why are you hanging around with such a rogue?”

Manning smiled. “We work together.”

“Are you working undercover, dear? I like your outfit.”

She laughed.

Bill took his cane and knocked a stack of newspapers off one of the cluttered chairs. “Have a seat, my dear.” She sat next to him and became fascinated by all the targets stapled to his walls and ceiling. Then she looked at the endless

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