Read Blood of Cain (Sean O'Brien (Mystery/Thrillers)) for Free Online Page A

and little Maxine, welcome back.”
    Nick said, “Want some grouper? Gonna pile it into pita bread. Made a quart of my special sauce last night.”
    Dave held up the bag. “Éclairs. The French lady at the Inlet Bakery is a goddess.”
    Nick shook his head and glanced down at Max. “Pay no attention to Dave. Between him and Sean you'd go from hot dog to chunky monkey.”
    Dave smiled and sipped his coffee. He said, “Save some for me. Sean, did you get my message? That may not have been your voice on that 911 call I heard during the newscast, but if it's not, then it’s someone who sounds a lot like you.”
    Nick looked at Dave through the smoke from the grill. “What 911 call? Something happen, Sean?”
    I glanced across the marina and watched a fifty-two-foot Beneteau motor out into the Halifax River. Within seconds, the spinnaker was unfolding in the light breeze. I said, “Nothing really happened. I tried to prevent something from happening.”
    Dave held his hand up. “Whoa. This I have to hear. I'm coming aboard, claiming one of the canvas chairs, and will enjoy a fresh-baked éclair while listening.”
    Nick used a large two-prong fork to lift the fish from the grill, stuffed it inside pita bread with sliced onions, tomatoes, and chopped lettuce drenched in an olive oil concoction. He took a bite as Dave settled into the chair. Max cocked her head, waiting for a sliver of food to fall from Nick's sandwich.
    I said, “Dave, what you heard was me. I found a teenage girl walking on State Road 314 through the Ocala National Forest past midnight. I stopped to see if I could help her or give her a lift somewhere. That's when two good ol' boys decided to pull their truck in front of my Jeep, get out, and do some serious damage to me before forcing the girl into their truck.”
    “Oh, shit,” Nick said, food bulging under his left cheek. He glanced at my right hand. “Looks like you got a few bruised knuckles.”
    I told them what happened. They both listened without interruption, Nick chewing, speechless, his eyes filled with amazement, as if I said I'd stumbled upon an alien in the forest. Dave propped his feet on the transom and used a paper towel to wipe chocolate from his fingers.
    Max uttered a growl as Joe, a large cat with calico markings, strolled down the dock, head in the air, not giving Max a second thought. I said, “Be smart Max. You're outweighed by at least five pounds.”
    Nick grunted. “Sean, how in God's great universe does this stuff happen to you? Forrest Gump was talkin' about guys like you when he said 'shit happens.' I wonder where the girl went. What the hell was she doing out there?”
    Dave cleared his throat. “This morning the lovely French baker said it better than Forrest Gump. When I asked her why she no longer sold my favorite buttery croissants, she said 'c'est la vie,' it is what it is, my inference was that more people bought the éclairs.” Dave glanced down at the newspaper in his lap. He said, “If the news is accurate, the girl Sean found walking in the woods is a little more than a typical runaway. She's a suspect, or at least a person of interest, in a murder.”
    “Murder?” Nick crushed the empty beer can with one hand. “What murder?”
    Dave said, “A carny worker was stabbed through the heart with an ice pick.”
    Nick sat in one of the deck chairs. He scratched Max behind the ears. “Sean, you think the girl did it?”
    “I don't know.”
    “What'd she tell you?”
    “Just what I told you and Dave. She was scared. A deer in the headlights. And then the guys in the truck showed up, half stoned, half drunk, and in full-bore rape mode.”
    I watched Dave look over my shoulder, his eyes following movement on the dock. Nick looked in the same direction. Dave said, “Sean, describe the girl. What'd she look like?”
    “About a hundred ten pounds, five-five maybe, shoulder-length dark hair, high cheekbones and eyes that drew you into them.”
    When I saw Nick