Read Quint Mitchell 01 - Matanzas Bay for Free Online Page B

wicked-looking dagger from the pile before Henderson could pick it up.
    Henderson looked like someone had slapped him in the face. “What’s wrong, Jeffrey, you don’t want me playing with your toys?” Henderson may have been speaking to Poe, but he put his hand on Grimes’ shoulder and pushed him away.
    Grimes, who’d been drinking almost as much as Henderson, glared at the old man, his eyes hard and menacing. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you drunks shouldn’t play with sharp objects?”
    Watts stepped toward Grimes, but Poe inserted himself between them still holding the bayonet above his head. “Take a look at this thing.” Poe’s voice cut through the tension. “This is a real find.”
    We all turned to look. “Sure is,” I said.
    Poe beamed, “Yeah, it’s one of the better bayonets we’ve found in the fifteen years I’ve been in St. Augustine.”
    “That’s unusual for a bayonet, isn’t it?” I asked. “The bone handle, I mean. Most of the bayonets I’ve seen had wood plugs. Or they did before they rotted off.”
    Poe nodded in agreement. “The military bayonets of that period were very plain, but the later ones, from sixteen-eighty on, had more decorative elements. I’ve seen them in other collections, but this is a first for us.”
    He passed it to me for closer inspection and I admired the filigree design and noted the wide, lightning-shaped crack dissecting the bone handle.
    “Very nice,” I said and handed it to Grimes who gave it back to Poe.
    “Now, it’s time to put these old things away.” Poe replaced the bayonet in the box and looked at Henderson. “I’m afraid that means us old folks, too.” He smiled at Watts and me. “And you younger folks, as well.”
    Henderson sagged against Watts, his eyes half closed.
    “Jarrod needs to take you home and put you to bed, Clayton.”
    “Hell, I’m good for anotha three or four hours,” Henderson grumbled.
    “You’ve managed to drink us all under the table again, Mr. Henderson,” Watts said, putting an arm around the old man’s waist. He gently pulled Henderson toward the door. Watts smiled sheepishly, as if to say, the old guy’s a pistol, isn’t he?
    I followed them as Poe turned off the light and closed the door to his storage room. Poe then did an extraordinary thing. Coming up behind me, he tousled my hair and gave me a smile filled with such affection I was taken back to a time when my father would look at me that way.
    Poe put his head close to mine and whispered in my ear, “I’m so glad you came tonight, Quint. It means a lot to me.”

FIVE
    I finished my run and was back at my place before seven-thirty. I lived on First Street, across from a pizza place and a popular hangout known for the length of its happy hour and the tightness of the waitresses’ shorts. People are amazed when they learn I own this building, along with the bank, of course, but they should have seen it fifteen years ago. This end of Jacksonville Beach had deteriorated into a stretch of seedy bars, boarded up storefronts, and a couple of adult book stores.
    I’d been based at Mayport Naval Air Station before they shipped me out to the Persian Gulf for the first big blow-up with Saddam. After I returned and later separated from the Navy with a nice amount in my savings account, I looked around for an investment. This old building appealed to me because of its location, its size, and the fact the owner desperately wanted to unload it.
    Over the next three years, I converted the four small retail stores on the ground floor to two larger business suites. One of them was now my office, Mitchell Investigative Services; the other I rented to a small graphic design and advertising firm.
    Back in my apartment, I fed Bogie and my cat Dudley. Not that Dudley would let me forget. He’s developed a habit of pushing against my ankles and yowling loudly to be fed, so I poured a half-cup of hard food into his dish and headed to the shower.
    The phone rang