Belle Chasse by William H. Lovejoy

Author:William H. Lovejoy [Lovejoy, William H.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Endeavour Media
Published: 2018-05-17T00:00:00+00:00

ELEVEN

Kenney was up by five, unable to sleep any longer, plagued by memories he had enjoyed in years past, but which now burned him to the quick.

The two of them took the Belle Chasse up river to Memphis. The riverboat drew appreciative stares and quite a few enthusiastic waves from nearly every spectator along the banks of the Mississippi River.

In Memphis, they strolled hand-in-hand through the city. Bought tickets to one night of the Beale Street Music Festival. Enjoyed Alison Krauss and Union Station the most.

Made love in the darkened pilot house with the bright lights of the city casting multi-colored rainbows through the windows on Debra’s tawny flesh.

“Hi, sailor!“

“Hello, Memphis belle.“

“Wanna sing with me?“

“Every night.“

He had to get back to Debra’s treasure trove.

He showered and shaved, and then decided he couldn’t wait until 6:30 for the coffee, so he overrode the timer. He got the UPS box out of the closet and dumped it out on the coffee table.

There were 32 photographs stacked in chronological order and secured with a rubber band. On top was a baby picture he assumed was that of Debra. Babies always looked the same to him. The next picture was that of a child around six years old. In costume. She was wearing a cape and tiara and waving a wand he knew was carved out of a willow branch. A kid some would call “cute, “ and not anticipate the beauty she had become.

There was a faded snapshot of a couple probably in their forties, must be Sam and Irene Bryce. They were standing in front of a house he now recognized after a short trip to Reno. A high school graduation picture in which the features of Debra’s face were more defined and closer to what he knew. Her smile was wide and proud, and the smile carried over to her hazel eyes.

There was a college graduation picture. More definition, fuller figure. The blonde hair had highlights and was worn full. Even more pride in the smile. And well-deserved, Glenn thought. Maybe.

There were no pictures of neighbors Toby and Sarah Miles.

The coffee stopped perking and he stood up and went to fill a mug. Back to the snapshots.

A wedding picture of Debra and a tall lanky man with reddish hair and a long, horse-like face. She was in a simple white skirt and jacket over a frilly white blouse. He was in slacks and a dark blue sport coat, white shirt, no tie. This was the Foreman guy. Also in the picture, standing to one side was a gray-haired man in a judicial robe. They’d been married in a judge’s chambers, confirming what Sarah Miles had told him.

That was the only picture of Foreman.

A picture of Debra and a man, both in swim suits, sitting on the stern rail of some powerboat. Scuba gear was stacked to one side. Debra was a true beauty at that time, voluptuous and sexy in a yellow bikini, hair trimmed to jaw level. The man was fit and muscular.

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