Flush - Carl Hiaasen [21]
“Sorry for barging in,” I said, taking a backward step toward the door. “I knocked for a long time but nobody heard me.”
“I was busy redecorating. What do you want?”
“Mr. Peeking was supposed to stop over today and look at my dad’s bonefish boat.”
“And he didn’t show up? My darlin’ Lice? What a surprise.” Shelly laughed in a cold way that made me shudder.
“Is he here?” I asked.
“Nope.”
“Do you know where I could reach him?”
“Nope.”
For several moments we stood there not saying anything, the rain drumming on the aluminum roof.
“What happened to your foot?” I heard myself ask.
“I believe I busted it,” Shelly replied.
“How?”
“Kicking the toilet to death.”
“Oh,” I said.
“I was pretending it was Lice’s butt. He’s gone, by the way, in case you hadn’t figured that out.”
“Gone where?”
“Wherever it is that gutless, lazy, lowlife boyfriends go,” she said. “Bolted last night while I was in the shower. Took my Jeep, too. The cops found it abandoned this morning up near the toll plaza at Cutler Ridge.”
I didn’t know what to say, but I had to be careful. Shelly looked like she was aching to use that baseball bat.
“But Mr. Peeking told me he doesn’t have a driver’s license,” I said.
“A minor technicality,” said Shelly, “for a weasel like him. Have a seat, Noah.”
“I really better be going.”
“I said have a seat.”
So I did.
“Some man came by to see Lice last night,” she said, “just before he ran off. A big bald-headed guy with a weird foreign accent—French or Russian or something.”
“He was bald?” I thought of the stranger who’d grabbed Abbey at the marina.
“Like a bowling ball,” Shelly said. “Plus, he looked like somebody gave him a nose job with a socket wrench. Lice went outside to talk, and he came back white as a ghost. Wouldn’t tell me anything, either. Waited until I was in the shower, then he took off. Did I mention he grabbed all the cash?”
“No, ma’am.”
“A hundred and eighty-six bucks. Everything I had.”
“That stinks.” I felt queasy, like somehow it was all my fault.
“Funny,” Shelly said, “but Lice didn’t say nothin’ about buyin’ your daddy’s boat.”
“I’ve really got to go now.”
“Remember what I told you about lying, Noah?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Besides, you can’t be out in this rain. You’ll catch strep.”
I was more than ready to risk it. “Please,” I said. “My mom’s gonna be worried.”
Shelly nodded toward the telephone. “Then give her a jingle.”
Of course, I didn’t move.
Shelly smiled. “Tell me about Lice and your daddy’s boat,” she said. “Tell me everything, okay? I’m sure it won’t take long.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off the wooden bat, which she was slapping from one palm to the other.
“Relax, kid, this isn’t for you,” she said.
I wasn’t taking any chances. Without hesitating, I told her all about the secret deal between my father and Lice Peeking. I figured she’d just laugh and tell me I was stupid for trusting her no-good boyfriend, but I was wrong.
What she said was: “Noah, I think I can help you.”
Which was the last thing I expected.
SEVEN
The speeding ticket that my mother had been waiting in line to pay when she met my father was the only one she’s ever gotten. She isn’t a person who breaks the law, no matter how small the law might be. Most of the time Mom is steady, careful, and totally in control—in other words, the polar opposite of my dad.
Like him, she was born in Florida—a place called Kissimmee, up near Orlando. Both her parents worked as performers at Disney World, which sounds like more fun than it was. Grandpa Kenneth was Pluto, the cartoon dog, while Grandma Janet played one of Snow White’s seven dwarfs—either Sleepy or Grumpy, I forget which. Mom still has a framed photograph of her mother and father dressed in costume, standing with their heads off in front of Cinderella’s Castle.
According to Mom, Grandpa Kenneth didn’t like his job from day one. The Pluto outfit was top-heavy and hard to navigate, and the temperature inside was about 105 degrees. The tourist