Read The Pickle Boat House for Free Online
Authors: Louise Gorday
stretched out his six-foot frame. The slight breeze coming off the water was balmy. It was calm and quiet, with just the sound of bluebirds calling to each other in the surrounding trees. He closed his eyes and began planning step two, and a smile slowly spread across his upturned face. The day was beginning to go better than he could have expected.
He flipped open his cell phone. “Hey, just touching base. Think I’ll be able to wrap this up a lot quicker than I thought. Just met someone who could be the answer to our prayers … No, totally clueless. You know my radar only picks up the cute ones.” The smile abruptly disappeared from his face. “Wait—sending who ? I don’t need any help.” Ryan got up and began to pace. “Tell ’em to fuck off … Shit, at least send someone else. Where’s Earl? … How far?” His eyes darted around the park. “Never mind. I’ll find the son of a bitch,” he said. “Yeah, I’ll return the favor sometime.” He flipped the phone closed and slid it back into his pocket.
“I would have gone for a Yankee dime while I had the chance,” a quiet voice whispered from behind him.
Ryan jumped. “Damn it, Hector! Don’t creep up on me like that again.”
The figure of a man stepped out from behind a nearby oak and approached. “Glad to see you can fit a little skirt chasing into the business day,” he said, and chuckled.
“Screw you! Making a few contacts in the area will be helpful.”
“Is that what that was? Could have sworn it was personal.” Hector swung around the side of the bench and flopped down.
“And what the hell are you doing here? No, wait, scratch that. I don’t care why you’re here. Fuck off back to wherever the hell you came from. I don’t need you breathing down my neck. Where’s Earl?”
“No can do. Suits want to make sure this is all going to go down smoothly.” Hector tossed his cigarette down and ground it out under his shoe. “Earl’s taking care of business somewhere else. Gonna meet up with him later. Look, Ryan, my boy, I don’t really care what you do on your own time. Screw this up and you’ll be packing up your desk. Unless you want to admit that you just don’t have it anymore?” He laughed again—a cold, spine-tingling sound. He lit another cigarette, took a long draw, and slowly exhaled smoke at Ryan as he gazed through narrowed eyes. “Don’t make me hate this any more than I do already. I don’t need you dragging me under—got my own problems. Just take care of business so we can get out of here. No loose ends.”
“Have there ever been?”
“I’d hate to take it out of your hands.”
Ryan looked at him with disgust. “Come on. Let’s go find someone else for you to bullshit.” Ryan got up and headed for the parking lot. Hector chuckled again as he got up and followed. He flicked the cigarette away but didn’t bother to put it out.
“By the way, since you’re such a smart-ass, what is a Yankee dime?” Ryan asked over his shoulder.
CHAPTER FIVE
BRING IT
Nevis demanded nothing. That was the appeal for Van: it let her go at her own pace. She had no desire to think about her estranged husband, and she couldn’t think about her son. The memories were so painful that right now she could deal with them only by burying them beneath layers of neglect, guilt, and time and hoping they would just quietly fossilize there. So when she wasn’t dedicating herself to work assignments she spent her time documenting and putting to paper all those who had come before her, ensuring that they were not forgotten, that they had left some trace. The thought that even one of them could slip into oblivion hurt her physically. The thought that the one forgotten could be her son was unbearable. And yet, she still couldn’t bring herself to put his death date on the family tree.
Everything in her life seemed to have slipped away—everything, that is, except Nevis and the pickle boat house. They had a good old Southern feel,
He flipped open his cell phone. “Hey, just touching base. Think I’ll be able to wrap this up a lot quicker than I thought. Just met someone who could be the answer to our prayers … No, totally clueless. You know my radar only picks up the cute ones.” The smile abruptly disappeared from his face. “Wait—sending who ? I don’t need any help.” Ryan got up and began to pace. “Tell ’em to fuck off … Shit, at least send someone else. Where’s Earl? … How far?” His eyes darted around the park. “Never mind. I’ll find the son of a bitch,” he said. “Yeah, I’ll return the favor sometime.” He flipped the phone closed and slid it back into his pocket.
“I would have gone for a Yankee dime while I had the chance,” a quiet voice whispered from behind him.
Ryan jumped. “Damn it, Hector! Don’t creep up on me like that again.”
The figure of a man stepped out from behind a nearby oak and approached. “Glad to see you can fit a little skirt chasing into the business day,” he said, and chuckled.
“Screw you! Making a few contacts in the area will be helpful.”
“Is that what that was? Could have sworn it was personal.” Hector swung around the side of the bench and flopped down.
“And what the hell are you doing here? No, wait, scratch that. I don’t care why you’re here. Fuck off back to wherever the hell you came from. I don’t need you breathing down my neck. Where’s Earl?”
“No can do. Suits want to make sure this is all going to go down smoothly.” Hector tossed his cigarette down and ground it out under his shoe. “Earl’s taking care of business somewhere else. Gonna meet up with him later. Look, Ryan, my boy, I don’t really care what you do on your own time. Screw this up and you’ll be packing up your desk. Unless you want to admit that you just don’t have it anymore?” He laughed again—a cold, spine-tingling sound. He lit another cigarette, took a long draw, and slowly exhaled smoke at Ryan as he gazed through narrowed eyes. “Don’t make me hate this any more than I do already. I don’t need you dragging me under—got my own problems. Just take care of business so we can get out of here. No loose ends.”
“Have there ever been?”
“I’d hate to take it out of your hands.”
Ryan looked at him with disgust. “Come on. Let’s go find someone else for you to bullshit.” Ryan got up and headed for the parking lot. Hector chuckled again as he got up and followed. He flicked the cigarette away but didn’t bother to put it out.
“By the way, since you’re such a smart-ass, what is a Yankee dime?” Ryan asked over his shoulder.
CHAPTER FIVE
BRING IT
Nevis demanded nothing. That was the appeal for Van: it let her go at her own pace. She had no desire to think about her estranged husband, and she couldn’t think about her son. The memories were so painful that right now she could deal with them only by burying them beneath layers of neglect, guilt, and time and hoping they would just quietly fossilize there. So when she wasn’t dedicating herself to work assignments she spent her time documenting and putting to paper all those who had come before her, ensuring that they were not forgotten, that they had left some trace. The thought that even one of them could slip into oblivion hurt her physically. The thought that the one forgotten could be her son was unbearable. And yet, she still couldn’t bring herself to put his death date on the family tree.
Everything in her life seemed to have slipped away—everything, that is, except Nevis and the pickle boat house. They had a good old Southern feel,