Trouble is my Business by Lisa Walker

Author:Lisa Walker
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: book, YFCF, YAF042000
ISBN: 9781743058732
Publisher: Wakefield Press
Published: 2021-08-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-one

By the time I’ve gone back to my room, picked up Abbey’s surfboard and got to the beach, my gung-ho levels have declined. Leaping into the black water with a potential psycho killer doesn’t seem as tempting anymore. Not to mention that being on a beach alone at night is a silly idea.

My hand tightens around Abbey’s board as I remember what happened to me on the beach when I was fifteen … I swallow, a sour metallic taste in my mouth. But I’m over that now. I’ve moved on. I can’t live my life being scared of the dark.

I take a deep breath. I can do this. The shimmer of the moon on the water and the sweep of the lighthouse beam entice me on. I walk up the beach toward The Pass.

All is quiet in the water, so I put the surfboard under a tree and lean against it to wait. Music from the Beach Hotel drifts toward me, but the crash of the waves deadens it. The sound is relaxing, and I’m almost drifting off to sleep when a motor startles me. I peer out to sea. A large launch has anchored off Julian Rocks. Voices carry across the water.

There’s movement near the shoreline. A surfer is getting into the water. Is that Cactus? It’s too dark to see. The surfer paddles out through the whitewash, into the dark water beyond. I watch until he disappears into the night. Is he paddling all the way to Julian Rocks? A faint humming noise comes from the direction of the launch. It sounds like a small boat. I strain my eyes but both the surfer and the boat, if there is one, are shrouded in darkness.

I peer into the shadows. What to do?

Something fishy is going on out there babe, says Nansea. You better check it out.

I suppose she’s right. As I get to my feet to investigate, another surfer runs down the beach, surfboard tucked under his arm. I shrink back into the darkness. The sweep of the lighthouse beam illuminates him. Blond hair. Muscled arms. It could be Cactus, but I can’t tell from the back. If this is Cactus, who’s the other guy? There are too many fair-haired surfers around here. This investigation is turning into a Raymond Chandler novel. Chandler’s detective, Philip Marlowe, always has to wade through a sea of blondes to find his villain.

The surfer pushes his board onto the waves and paddles into the blackness. What’s going on out there?

Go after him, squeals Nansea. You’ll never know otherwise.

I eye the inky water.

As I’m building up to tackling the waves, yet another surfer emerges out of the shadows and runs to the water. Like the others, he vanishes into the darkness. I stare out at the water. Is there some kind of surfers’ convention going on? Maybe I’d better not get involved.

What are you, an investigator or a mouse?

Reluctantly, I strip off my dress and glasses. I’ve reverted to my comfortable old Speedos, rather than the Bond Girl bikini.

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