To Hell and Gone in Texas: an Al Quinn Novel, #1 by Russ Hall

Author:Russ Hall
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Adept Publishing
Published: 2017-09-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Al stood on the back deck, putting out a line from the corner of the houseboat. He twirled the baited hook and weight in a steady circle and then let go. The line shot out and landed with a plonk as the weight splashed in and carried the line swiftly toward the bottom.

He looked out across the still water where he could see rings spreading from half a dozen places where fish had come up to the surface to feed. The rocky shore was fifteen feet away. He glanced up the forty-foot-tall limestone cliff face next to them. Nothing stirred, except the ends of the green ferns where spring water dripped down through the fronds. Tight lines went out, one from the stern and one from the bow, keeping the houseboat snug in its cove.

He slid the glass door open and went inside. Bonnie was clanking around with a skillet and an aluminum coffee percolator—real camping sort of hardware. She started pulling out eggs and bacon from the fridge.

“Hey, I can do that,” he said.

“Naw. I don’t mind. It kinda calms me and gives me something to do.”

He went to the fridge and took out a cantaloupe. Using his fish-filleting knife, he split the melon, deseeded it with a spoon, and cut it into eighths. Then all he had to do was feather the knife along between rind and meat, slice the orange crescent moons into bite-sized pieces, and drop those into a bowl.

Bonnie had the skillet popping and sending the smell of bacon through the boat—one of the finest smells ever to be part of a morning.

The hatch door to the lower stateroom opened, and Maury came out. “Well, aren’t you two a cozy domestic scene.”

“We live to serve,” Al said. “You know me. I get restless if I’m not doing something.”

“And I’m rested because someone doesn’t want to do something with me.” Bonnie bounced her hip into the side of Al’s leg.

“No one asked me,” Maury said.

“And no one’s gonna.” She flipped the bacon then glanced at Maury. “You are looking a sight better than you were. How’re you feeling?”

“Better than I have in quite a while. The sea air must agree with me.”

“We’re not at sea.” Al frowned, wishing he’d said nothing.

Maury stretched out his arms. “Being on the water must agree with me, then.”

“I’ll take your vitals in a minute,” Bonnie said, “soon as I finish whipping us up some nourishment. Did you pick up OJ, Al?”

“Sure. Enough for a day or two.” Maury shook his head at the two of them being so domestic and stepped outside, sliding the door closed behind him.

It did all sound a little cozy. He won’t be thinking that in a while. Al shook his head.

“How much time do you think we have at this spot?” Bonnie spoke softly.

“Can you read minds?”

“No. I just have some notion of the pickle we’re in, and it could get a whole lot worse.”

“I expect we have a day, maybe a day and a half.

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