Sliggers Read online

  Jimmy and one of the other boys jumped in and swam to her in a vain attempt to rescue her. But when they were able to locate her limp arms in the darkness, they were unable to pull her up to the surface. It felt like the cove was pulling back. Finally, after many maddening failed attempts, they surrendered and returned to shore.

  When the police arrived, no charges were filed. The teens were scolded for underage drinking and their parents were called to collect them, but the unfortunate death was deemed accidental. A diver was able to retrieve Samantha’s body, after wresting her leg free from the two rocks it was jammed between. The diver determined she had gotten her ankle stuck in the rocks when she jumped into the water.

  For years Jimmy stayed away from Pirate’s Bend. It was a constant reminder of that tragic night. He finished high school without another visit to the cove.

  That was not the only tragedy in Pirate’s Bend. Shortly after Jimmy and his friends graduated, a young man was free-diving in the cove. Apparently he got lost or trapped in one of the underwater caves at the deepest end. His body was not found until a month later when divers finally found his corpse suspended in one of the many tiny, dark chambers in the caves.

  Now that Jimmy was the town sheriff, it bothered him that the cove still had the effect it did on him. Despite his position of power, he still felt like a nervous kid at Pirate’s Bend. A chill danced up his neck as the dirt road brought him along the edge of the cove. Seeing his deputy at the scene when he arrived made him feel a little better.

  Deputy Carl Riggins grew up in Sweetboro, just as the sheriff did. Like many families in the town, his had remained in the family home for generations. He was thrilled to find a job as respectable as a policeman; there was not much other work in town that he would be happy doing. And the sheriff, having known Carl from high school, was glad to have Deputy Carl Riggins – whom he affectionately referred to as Spud – on the team.

  “Whaddawe have here, Spud?” Sheriff Steele said while stepping out of the squad car.

  “Looks like an animal attack of some kind,” the deputy replied. “Lots of damage, and some blood spatter on the boat.”

  “Alright, let’s get down there and take a look-see.”

  Deputy Riggins led his boss down the rocky slope to the water’s edge. Gingerly, the sheriff followed to where the boat had washed up. The lifeless dinghy lay halfway in the water, capsized, showing deep scratches on most of the hull.

  “Jesus,” the sheriff muttered. “What coulda done this?”

  “You got me, Sheriff. Look down on the side, you can see the blood.”

  “Yessir, I see it.” Sheriff Steele reached down and gripped the edge, then pulled the boat over to expose the topside. As he expected, there was more spatter inside. “Hmm. That doesn’t look good.”

  “No it doesn’t. And I know ol’ Earl, he was an excellent boatsman and swimmer. I checked his house, of course, but he’s nowhere to be seen. And I know for sure this is his dinghy.” He drew a deep sigh. “I think something got him.”

  The sheriff heaved the boat back over to inspect the hull again. “Something big, based on all the damage done to the underside. What’s this?” The sheriff had noticed something, and the deputy followed his eyes to an object embedded in the hull.

  “Is that a tooth?”

  Sheriff Steele loosened the object from the wood and held it close to his face. It definitely looked like a tooth of some sort – long, thin, needle-like, dingy white. “Kinda looks like a tooth of a big sand tiger shark.”

  “Yeah, but you wouldn’t find anything like that in these shallows.” Deputy Riggins paused to contemplate. “Or would you?”

  “No,” the sheriff concurred. “Not somewhere like in here. But what else could this thing be from?”

  “Bull sharks would swim in water like this.”

  “True, but their teeth are a lot different than this.”

  “Gators?”

  The sheriff shifted his stance. “Shit, Spud. It’s possible, but you know as well as I that gators tend to hide from men, not attack ‘em.” He spat into the foam on the rocky shoreline. “I got no idea what could’ve done this.”

  It’s just Pirate’s Bend, he told himself. It takes life when it feels the need, no reasons or explanations.

  “I dunno, either. I suppose we could find an expert to tell us what it is.”

  “True.” He handed the suspected tooth to his deputy. “Here, bag it and we’ll bring it in with the rest.” The sheriff glanced out across the water of the calm cove. “In the meantime, we got a missing person. Did you check the whole shoreline for a body?”

  “Yessir, as soon as I recognized the boat.”

  “Alrighty then. Guess I better call out the diver.”

  Sheriff Steele climbed the hill back to his car, where he used his radio to call the station. The diver arrived shortly afterward, and the sheriff brought him down to the shore. Then the diver entered the brackish water and began his search for a body.

  CHAPTER 3

  Eaver and her mother arrived at the Parker house just as the last of the visitors were leaving the wake. Nodding to the departing neighbors as they passed by, the women climbed the six steps to the wrap-around porch of Mabel’s country cottage. The modest house was a powder blue Colonial with white trim. The blue siding appeared faded and washed out this evening, but it was still a soft, welcoming shade.

  Gripping a bag of barbeque with one hand, Sherrie rapped lightly on the front door. Eaver pulled her dress tight while waiting for Mason to appear. When he opened the door, he looked as downtrodden as he had during the funeral. Eaver’s heart sank when she saw his eyes.

  “Evening, ladies,” he sighed. “Thanks for coming over. Please, come in.”

  “Hello, sweetie,” said Sherrie, hugging him with her free arm. “We brought you over some good fixin’s. Cinch even pulled the best parts of the pork for you and put a special sauce on the side.”

  Mason was not hungry, but he smiled anyway. “Mmm, he’s always been the best cook in the county, far as I’m concerned. I’m glad he’s still working for you.”

  “Yep, that ol’ Louisiana Creole was an angel dropped at my doorstep. He’s family, he is.”

  Mason led them inside to the dining room, where Sherrie set the barbeque on the table next to all the other food collected there. The townsfolk that had stopped by throughout the day had left a plethora of food, including cakes, pies, breads, casseroles, and a meatloaf from the owner of the larger grocery store. Mason would have enough food to last for weeks.

  Eaver had also brought a bag, from which she pulled a bottle of Johnny Walker Black. “Mason, go fetch us some glasses for this.”

  He grimaced. “I’m not really in the mood for…”

  “Hush it,” said Sherrie, “and go get those glasses. This is exactly what you need right now.”

  Shrugging, Mason complied. He went to the kitchen and returned with three water glasses. He set them down between the abundant flowers and sympathy cards, and Eaver poured two fingers of whiskey in each glass.

  “Shoot it down,” Sherrie directed, and they did. “Feel better?” she asked. Mason winced, then nodded. Sherrie motioned for her daughter to pour another round.

  Handing everyone their drinks, Eaver wrapped her arm inside Mason’s and pulled him away from the dining table. “C’mon, let’s sit a spell and talk.”

  When the three were situated on the patterned living room sofa, Sherrie began by taking Mason’s hand in her own. “Your momma was a great friend, you know that?”

  “Of course,” he replied with a bittersweet smile. “You two were like sisters when I was growing up.”

  “And you know how happy you made her? Watching you grow up brought a light to her eyes. Why, I’m sure she’s with us right now, smiling down at her son, the college boy! She’s so damn proud of you.”

  Wiping the tears that were beginning to well, Mason nodded. “I hope you’re right, Sherrie.”

  “I am. Now you
make good on everything she taught and gave you, and make a great life for yourself. That’s what she would’ve wanted.”

  “Hell, I’m not sure what I’m gonna do next. I wasn’t planning on having to figure out my life until after the summer.”

  “Some people never figure that out,” said Sherrie, “but you won’t be one of them. Just be patient for now, you’ll know soon enough what you want to do.”

  Mason shifted the focus to his friend. “What about you, Eave? Are you going to the community college?”

  She dropped her head. “No, not yet. I don’t have time, what with helpin’ Momma run the restaurant.”

  Mason nodded. He practically grew up in Sherrie’s Shack, at least for a few hours a day on his way home from school. Sherrie’s Shack had been successful for many years, thanks to the masterful cooking skills of Sherrie and her cook Cinch. They served fantastic fried chicken, shrimp and grits, gumbo, and chowder; but their barbeque was the town favorite.

  “But you love workin’ for your Momma, Baby,” toyed Sherrie.

  Eaver rolled her eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause that’s what I want to do for the rest of my life.” She refilled the glasses with more whiskey.

  “It could be worse, you know. I’ll retire someday, and the restaurant will be yours. And someday your kids’.” Sherrie picked up her glass and began to drink.

  “We’ll see,” was all Eaver could say.

  “If you end up running the restaurant,” Mason said, “just go easy on the ketchup.”

  Sherrie almost spit up her whiskey laughing. “Oh my Lord, you got that right, Mason! She’s terrible about that.”

  “You still love your crab cakes and ketchup?” he asked, having always been astounded by her obsession with dousing crab cakes in ketchup.

  Eaver nodded emphatically. “Hell yeah, the redder the better!”

  “She ruins perfectly good crab cakes,” mumbled Sherrie. “A crying shame.” She finished her drink, and the others did the same. Eaver poured once more.

  Sherrie redirected the conversation. “So how was college, sweetie?”

  “Pretty good,” Mason said. “Four years was a long time, lots of stress, but there were some good times mixed in there. I’m glad it’s all finally over, though. Now if I can just figure out what type of job I want to get.”

  “And if you don’t, you can work with Eaver and me at the restaurant.”

  He was quick with a response. “No ma’am, you wouldn’t want me cooking anything.”

  Sherrie giggled. “Just teasin’, sweetie. I’m sure you’ll find something good. You’re young, ambitious, smart, and have the world at your doorstep.” She had no doubts that he would do well. “I swear you grew a few more inches in college,” she added. “What are you now, like six-foot-two?”

  Mason shrugged. “Sounds about right.”

  “Well, you look great,” Sherrie praised. “You’re a handsome young man.”

  He chuckled, motioning to her glass. “Then you must be getting a little buzzed, Miss Sherrie!”

  She shooed the air. “Hush, you know you’re handsome. Bet you had to beat the college girls off with a stick.”

  Looking at Eaver, he said, “That wasn’t the case.”

  Eaver simply smiled. Mason had always been cute, in a plain way, but now he was a fine-looking young man. What used to be a goofy kid and best friend was now something more – someone she could become attracted to. Perhaps it was the whiskey.

  She poured another shot.

  The group spent some time reminiscing about Mason’s mother, telling amusing stories and recalling some of the memorable moments of her life. It brought some peace to Mason, and he began accepting the finality of her death. After honoring her life with anecdotes and memories, Eaver decided it was time to liven up the mood a bit.

  “Let’s spend the day doing something fun tomorrow!” she offered, slapping an enthusiastic palm on Mason’s thigh. “What would you like to do?”

  Mason grinned, knowing his response would meet opposition. “Like rock climbing?”

  Eaver shook her head. Mason had always loved scaling rocks and cliffsides, but she was scared to death of it. “No, Captain Spelunker, try again.”

  He laughed. “Alright, alright… no rock climbing.”

  “What do you say we go fishing? We could go get Danny and use his boat.”

  The idea was appealing to Mason. He had not seen Danny Young since high school. And Danny had a great little rowboat tied up behind his dad’s house.

  “How is Danny? Anything new with him?”

  “Naw, not really. Still living with his dad, going to the community college, and trying to find work on the side. I don’t think he’s had anything stable since graduating high school.”

  “I always liked Danny. He was a good egg. It’ll be fun to hang out with him tomorrow.”

  “I’ll give him a call in the morning and we’ll head over. He won’t have any other plans, I’m sure.”

  “He still courtin’ that Hannah girl?”

  Eaver rolled her eyes. “He’s trying, bless his heart.”

  Mason frowned. “What’s the matter, she not all that sweet on him?”

  “Not on him, but maybe his…”

  Sherrie cleared her throat, stopping Eaver’s speech. “Now, gossip is the Devil’s ware, dear. I don’t think you should speak on matters you don’t know.” She redirected the conversation. “Mason, you still have your fishing gear?”

  “Yes ma’am, should be in the garage still.”

  “Then I think that’s a fine idea. The weather will be sunny tomorrow. Why don’t the three of you have a lovely day just relaxing on the water, and spend some time catching up.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” agreed Mason. “We’ll load up the boat, cruise the inlet, and try an’ catch some dinner.”

  “Let’s take it around to Pirate’s Bend,” Eaver said. “It’s not very far from his inlet, and I hear they’ve been catching lots of channel bass there.”

  “Okay, we can try that.”

  “Good,” said Sherrie. She was happy that Mason would have a distraction, that her daughter could spend some time with her best friend, and that Danny would be able to spend a day with friends. “It’ll be good for all of you.”

  Tomorrow would be a wonderful day in the cove.

  CHAPTER 4

  The cat was gone again.

  With an irritated sigh, Hannah Dermont pushed open the back patio door, and it responded with its usual gritty creak. The cat was used to nudging the back door open to get outside, and Hannah was sure that was the case now. She peered out into the dark, seeing nothing but a few glowing fireflies in the yard.

  “Cappy?” she called. “Caaaaaaaappy!”

  She was not surprised that the tabby didn’t respond. Captain Purrbucket was definitely his own master, unless Hannah was holding him. Then he was a helpless ball of fur with a loud, purring motor.

  “Caaaaaaaappy!” she hailed once more. Still no cat came running, and nothing was heard except the noisy chirping of summer locusts in the trees.

  Hannah rolled her eyes and huffed in frustration, knowing she could not leave the house until her cat was locked inside. “Dammit, Cappy, I don’t have time for this tonight.” She stepped out to the back yard to go look for the elusive feline.

  She scanned the lawn area for any signs of movement, but he was not there. Next she checked the bushes where Captain Purrbucket sometimes roamed. There was no lurking cat to be found there either.

  Pulling her cell phone from her rear pocket, she activated the flashlight app. Then she lit the way before her and proceeded into the wooded area past the lawn.

  The foliage was thick at her feet. Making plenty of noise to scare away any potential snakes in the leaves, she walked steadily through the trees.

  The light from her phone illuminated the spider webs in her path, which she batted away in disgust. Living in the South, Hannah had dealt with spiders all her life; but walking into a web always freake
d her out. It was yucky.

  And now it was dark, which presented a different trepidation. Hannah grew up walking these woods, and had no problem exploring when she could see everything around her. At night, however, it was a different story. The woods became an obstacle course at night, filled with invisible roots, rocks, critter holes, and sharp branches. Plus there was different animal activity at night, like bats, predatory snakes, and possums. Most were not dangerous, but some certainly could be.

  A loud rustling five feet to her left jolted her. She turned her phone light toward the spot.

  “Cappy! Kittykittykittykitty!” Nothing moved in the ground foliage. “Goddammit, you stupid cat, I know you’re in there. Come here!” Hannah took a step closer.

  She heard a low growl.

  Startled, she froze in place. That didn’t sound like her beloved tabby. She wondered if it was something wild, something mean. Maybe something gone rabid. She needed to be cautious.

  Another rustling occurred right behind her. Hannah jumped, then held herself still in case it was a venomous snake positioned by her feet. Her heart was beating robustly now.

  A blur exploded out of the brush in front of her. Hannah yelped and convulsed, losing grip of her phone and seeing it fly through the darkness. It landed in a patch of tall bluestem grass.

  “Shit!” She hurried to where the phone had fallen, needing to retrieve it while she could still see its light. Reaching down into the wild grass, she wrapped her fingers securely around her phone.

  Something struck her back while she was bent over.

  Hannah shrieked involuntarily and whirled around. The light from her flashlight app quickly found a familiar face, tan with black and gray striping. It was Captain Purrbucket, pacing the ground in a tight circle.

  “Cappy, you little shit!” Hannah exclaimed, trying to catch her breath between pounding heartbeats. “Get your ass over here.” She stepped to her cat, picked him up, and held him close against her chest.