Winston Chase: The Complete Trilogy by Bodhi St. John

Author:Bodhi St. John [St. John, Bodhi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-27T06:00:00+00:00

The number 2 bus line terminated at Seaside’s one and only cinema. Phaedra had let Winston and Shade make use of her smartphone, and they’d plotted their best path to the Tillamook Air Museum. From the cinema, they would transfer to the number 20 in about eighteen minutes. That would take them to Cannon Beach, where, after over an hour of layover, they could pick up the number 3 to Tillamook.

Elvis scanned the theater’s marquee and pulled a sour face. “Riddick, Percy Jackson, or Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs 2. How to choose, how to choose?”

“Riddick,” said Winston and Shade in unison.

Phaedra flashed them a skeptical eyebrow lift. “Fortunately, we’re no longer twelve. I think we’ll opt for something with charm and dignity.”

“Meatballs,” growled Elvis with resignation.

“It’s a dark room, and you can serve me popcorn however you like.”

“Done.” He gave Winston a wink. “Anything for a worthy cause.”

The couple said goodbye, bought their tickets, and disappeared with a final wave.

“What do you suppose she meant—” Shade started, but Winston cut him off.

“Nope.”

“Aren’t you—?”

“Nope.”

The boys waited just inside the lobby, where they would be hidden but still have a clear view of the highway. Bus number 20 arrived right on schedule, and of the seven travelers already on board, none seemed suspicious or overly curious about them.

By now, the tedium of travel mixed with the midafternoon lull between meals left both boys sleepy and quiet. Shade insisted that Winston grab a fifteen-minute catnap, and Winston was only in his second round of saying that he didn’t need a nap when Shade shook him awake. After stretching, they switched roles, and Shade snored gently all the way to Cannon Beach.

Winston only woke him when the tourist center and public restrooms came into view on their left. Shade started in his seat.

“Chapter twenty-eight, ready!” he blurted.

Winston patted him on the shoulder. “Relax. We’re in Cannon Beach, not Language Arts.”

“Oh.” Shade slumped back into his chair. “That’s good.”

The bus turned into its parking lot stop. Winston and Shade exited along with an elderly couple walking hand in hand. After a quick bathroom break, they made their way across the street to a seafood diner and took a pair of stools facing the windows, which kept their backs to the restaurant. Soon, Winston nearly melted over his plate of clam strips and bowl of clam chowder.

“Is it worth risking our lives over?” he asked around a mouthful of batter and tartar sauce. “Maybe.”

Shade pinched the tail off of a shrimp, submerged it in a pool of house cocktail sauce, and managed to say, “Definitely” before popping the prawn into his mouth and closing his eyes in rapture.

As 4:30 approached, though, Winston grew uneasy. Two city officers had entered, ordered an early dinner to go, and had stared right at Winston and Shade’s backs. Winston could see the men clearly in the window reflection. The police got their orders and returned to their cruiser without so much as a pause.

Shade noticed his tension. “What’s your issue? Nobody recognized us.

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