Southern Comfort - Fern Michaels [8]
“I’m happy for you, Pete. I mean that.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. It’s not time yet. Maybe that time will never come. What color were the roses you took to the cemetery?”
“Yellow and some pink ones for Emma. Daisies for Ricky. The monument is nice. Andy took care of that. A mother angel and two little ones.” His voice broke, and tears flooded his eyes. He swiped at them with the back of his hand.
Tick cringed. Everyone was doing what he should have done.
“Hey, let’s take a walk on the beach. Show me how much of this glorious paradise is yours.” Pete hopped off the swing and yanked at Tick’s arm, jerking him to his feet. Then they were in each other’s arms, hugging one another and pounding each other on the back.
“Sometimes life out-and-out sucks. It doesn’t mean it won’t ever get better, it just means you have to work harder at making it right. Hey, what about the bird? Do you have to put it in a cage?” Pete asked, hoping to drive the stricken look off his brother’s face.
“When did you get so smart? The bird is a free spirit. He just moved in one day and decided to stay. I don’t even remember what day or year it was. Suddenly, he was just there. We get along just fine, but he’s a tad salty.”
“When I was lying in a hospital doped to the eyeballs for my pain, I had a lot of time to reflect. A lot of time. Hey, I can tell when it’s going to rain within three hours. If my bar and grill goes bellyup, I can probably get a job as a weatherman. You always gotta look at the positive. You got a bed for me, or do I have to sleep on the floor?”
Tick doubled over laughing. “That is an accomplishment. Not to worry, I have one of those blowup beds that come in a sack, and the only reason I have it is Andy keeps saying he’s coming down here. Since he hates to fly, I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”
Tick looked up at the star-filled night in time to see a shooting star flash across the sky. He wondered if it was an omen of things to come. A light breeze ruffled his hair as he strode along. The ocean’s warm water lapped at his feet and ankles. It was so soothing, he knew that if he ever left here, he would miss this nightly ritual.
A long time later, Pete said, “What the hell is that?” pointing to that place. “It looks like something you might see at the gates of hell.”
Tick frowned. He hadn’t realized they’d walked so far. A full moon rode high in the sky, outlining the enormous building that stood like a dark avenging something or other. “I have no idea. The village people refer to it as that place at the end of the beach. As far as I know, it’s uninhabited. I never come this far on my nightly walks and usually I go the other way. I’ve never seen anyone around the place or on the beach, at least I haven’t during the day. Though I thought I heard someone crying once, I’m sure it was an animal. At night I think someone comes and goes, not sure why, never really cared to find out. It was being completed when I was just coming out of my drunken stupor. I never really cared enough to inquire, and, besides, who would I ask? I can tell you one thing, it cost a bundle to build. That’s for sure.”
“Are you sure it’s empty?”
“No, but I never see anyone. I hear voices late at night sometimes if I’m out walking. No boats coming in. I’d hear a motorboat. The Coast Guard rips by five or six times a day. Usually the same boat. I can tell by the sound of the engine. And, when they start to approach that thing, they throttle back, so it’s my guess they’re keeping their eye on it. In order to get there on foot, you have to go past my place. I never see any lights, so I just assume it was built by some drug lord who got caught, and the place just sits there now because everyone is afraid to go near it. No one wants to get caught up in anything drug-related or whatever goes on there during the night.”
“What do you think, Tick?”
“You know what, Pete, I try not to think about it. I have enough