Blood, Ash, & Bone by Tina Whittle

Author:Tina Whittle [Whittle, Tina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781781857175
Publisher: Head of Zeus Ltd.

25

As I suspected, River Street was a sprawling carnival, its narrow sidewalks packed and boisterous. Trey, however, threaded his way through the crowd with fluid efficiency.

I followed close behind. We passed the Olympia Café, and he caught the rhythm of the streaming people and the bouziki music, his body entraining itself to his environment, slipping in and out of it like camouflage. He brushed no one’s shoulder, blocked no one’s path, got trapped in no bottlenecks.

We arrived at the tour shop and stepped inside. The front room glowed with morning sunshine, bouncing off the shiny tourist faces browsing the brochures, fondling the souvenirs. Winston stepped up to the counter, his shirt a blinding explosion of red splashed with yellow and green, his professional smile in place. It wavered only the slightest when he saw me standing there.

“Hey, Tai. You change your mind about that job?”

“Not yet.” I took Trey’s elbow. “This is my boyfriend, Trey. Trey, Winston Cargill, my former boss.”

Winston gave him the salesman grin and extended a hand. Trey didn’t take it. He didn’t do anything. He just stood there, a look of dazed bafflement on his face.

“Trey? What’s wrong?”

He held up one finger.

“Trey?”

He sneezed, then sneezed again, violently. “I can’t—” Another sneeze, this one sending him up against the wall. A blowsy woman in a sundress moved out of the way, clucking to herself. Trey buried his face in his elbow and sneezed three more times.

“Parrot,” he said into his elbow, and pointed.

Jezebel cocked her head at him. Trey sneezed again. “I’m allergic. I can’t…” And then he shoved open the door and threw himself back onto the sidewalk. I watched the door shut behind him, jingling cheerfully.

The parrot trilled like a ringing telephone, then screamed. Out on the cobblestones, Trey sneezed again. The bird reached up a clawed toe and preened.

Winston shook his head. “Damn. Is he okay?”

I sighed. So much for tapping Trey’s cranial lie detector. Out on the sidewalk, I heard two concerned voices offering aid. Female, of course.

“He’s fine.” I propped my elbows on the counter and regarded Winston pleasantly. “We can talk without him.”

“Talk about what?”

“Did you hear about Bob Simmons?”

“The guy who drowned? Yeah. Did you know him?”

“No. Uncle Dexter did apparently. The newspaper had a good article, but it didn’t say anything about the map.”

Winston tried to look innocent. “What map?”

“The one I found last night. On Wassaw Island. Somebody set that man up with a fake treasure map, and he died trying to find the gold it supposedly pointed to. But it was a hoax. Another lost cause.”

Winston looked sick. “You found the real map?”

“Trey and I did. Long story. Here’s the kicker. The authorities are anxious to figure out where it came from.”

“What can they tell from a map?”

“Oh, lots of things. It’s a CSI Wonderland out there now.” I leaned forward until we were face to face. “Fingerprints, specks of dust, even DNA from skin cells. It’s amazing.”

Winston looked like a catfish out of water, his mouth opening and closing, his eyes wide.

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