Southern Comfort - Fern Michaels [54]
“Yeah, but Jellard said the cop was an ex-drunk, too. He didn’t look like a drunk to me. But then again, what does a drunk, ex or not, really look like? What about that crazy bird?”
Kate shook her head. Leave it to Sandy to ask stupid questions.
“Jelly said the cop was dry. And what about the bird? If he shows up, we give him something to talk about.”
Sandy clucked her tongue. “I get it. You feed the bird information, hoping it’ll get back to them, is that it?”
“Yep, you got that right. I’ll just make sure the info is . . . enticing.”
“I like it. Feel free to mention something about my interest in the redhead. That way they’ll know up front.”
“I can’t believe you. We’re getting ready to break and enter, possibly endanger our lives, and all you think about is that . . . man!” Kate motioned toward the beach.
“Somebody has to think about our future. We’re not getting any younger.”
Sandy was right, but it wasn’t the time to concern themselves with their love lives or lack thereof. “True, but we don’t know them. For all we know, they could be gay.”
“No, they’re not. I can spot a gay man a mile away. My gaydar is always right on the money. The dark-haired one was married before, remember?” Sandy stated seriously, as though this were the most important conversation she’d ever had.
“And that’s supposed to make a difference how?” Kate grimaced.
“I wonder about you, Kate, I really do. Let me spell it out for you. If the man was married, chances are pretty slim that he’s gay.”
“Whatever you say. Right now, those two are the least of my concerns. Jelly said he was sure the cop is who he claims to be, and I agree. I didn’t see anything suspicious at his place, nothing to indicate he was anyone other than a man who seems to want nothing more than a bit of peace and quiet.”
“Not that we went inside to investigate further, no thanks to you, I should add. He sure as hell isn’t getting any peace and quiet with that whacked-out bird of his, but I agree he seemed normal, whatever that is these days.”
“True, but that’s not our business, at least not now. Let’s get over to that . . . compound. Something sinister is going on there, I can feel it in my bones. If that jerk Tyler thinks he’s going to discover what it is before we do, he’s got another think coming. And you’re positive Jelly identified him as the guy on that ragged excuse for a boat called Sooner or Later?”
“Absotively, posilutely sure,” Sandy added.
“I can’t believe the little weasel has actually been spying on us. Probably doing big Daddy-o a favor. There’s something about that bunch that isn’t right despite their public image of one big happy family.” Kate stuffed a mini Maglite in her pocket, along with her cell phone and a small bag of tools given to her by Jelly. She slipped a Sig Sauer, one she had purchased after turning in her government-issued firearm, in her ankle holster. As an afterthought, she rubbed mosquito repellent on her face, arms, and legs. She was going prepared.
“You think you’ll really need that?” Sandy asked, indicating the gun strapped to Kate’s ankle.
“I’m not willing to risk it. You should be packing, too. Who knows who might be watching, just waiting to jump our bones, and I don’t mean it in the way you think I mean it, so wipe that smirk off your face. You better use some of this, too,” Kate suggested, tossing the bottle of insect repellent to her.
The bottle hit the floor with a thud. “No thanks, Kate. You’re just no fun anymore,” Sandy teased.
“And you’re just a barrel of laughs yourself. Look, let’s get this over with. I want to have something to report to Jelly when he calls tomorrow. I’ll figure out how to omit the breaking-and-entering part. Seriously, take your