Crystal Blue (Buck Reilly Adventure Series Book 3) by John Cunningham (best manga ereader .txt) 📗

Tiki Bar, I drained a Cruzan on the rocks and pointed to my glass. I drained the next one the minute it came, then grabbed the bar menu.

A vibration on my hip—the cell phone. I glanced at the screen, surprised it still worked: YOUR MASTER.

“I thought you’d disconnected this phone, Booth.”

“Where are you?”

“Back on St. John. And you fired me, so what—”

“Where’s Crystal Thedford?”

His tone cut right through my fresh rum buzz.

“She’s in her room at the Westin. I’m here at the bar. What’s up?”

“Bad news, I’m afraid. Would she take it better from you, or should I take the ferry over in the morning and tell her myself?”

Shit.

“What’s up?” But I knew damned well what it was.

“They found a body out in the water between St. John and Tortola. Might be John Thedford. I haven’t seen him, but it can’t be a pretty sight. She’ll need to make the ID”

Double shit.

“No ID on the body?”

“Shot in the head and no wallet, so no, nothing.”

“I’ll tell her. Where is it?”

“The morgue in Roadtown. I’m headed there first thing. Can you bring her over?”

I sat up straight, my fists clenched. Dammit!

“I’ve requested that the body be kept as it is for forensics.” He was quiet for a moment. “Sorry, kid. It’s not certain, but she’ll take it better from you than she would from me. This doesn’t mean you’re back on the case, I just need you to get her to Tortola.”

I didn’t ask if she was still a suspect, or about Stud Mahoney. If it was John Thedford, he was probably killed the night he was taken from St. John. Crystal was now my main priority. The concert had to be cancelled to ensure her safety.

A waiter came to get my order, but I handed him the menu and jumped off the stool. Exhaustion, rum, and bad news blurred my vision, but what I had to do next was clear.

Dreaded, but clear.

THE ROOM SMELLED OF coconut and a fruity fragrance. Crystal was dressed in her husband’s pajamas and sitting at the desk, the contents of John’s briefcase piled in front of her. My heart sank further.

A cot was folded in the corner of the room.

She offered a weak smile when I entered but must have seen something in my face, because hers kind of fell apart.

“What’s wrong, Buck?”

“I got a call,” I said. “From Special Agent Booth.”

She was on her feet and in front of me in a blur.

“John?” Her eyes were filling. She knew.

“They found a body—”

Her legs buckled—I lunged and caught her as she fell.

“It hasn’t been identified yet—Crystal? Don’t give up yet.”

She dropped her head on my shoulder. Tears sprang from her eyes, and her body was wracked with convulsions as I held her. She cried, hard, and clenched the flesh on my back so tight I winced though I didn’t pull away. “I couldn’t—wouldn’t—believe this could happen.”

“We don’t know for sure yet—”

“How did he die?”

My neck was soaked from her tears. I couldn’t help inhaling the fragrance of her freshly washed hair but felt like a creep for noticing.

“The person they found was shot.”

This set her off again, wailing, sobbing, shaking. I held on to her as best I could, but gravity was winning out.

“They found him—someone— in the waters near Tortola,” I said. “We’ll go there first thing in the morning to make the identification.”

It was as if her legs turned to jelly. All her will, even to stand, was gone. I held her up, swung her slowly around, and lowered her onto the bed. Other than trembling with grief she didn’t move when I laid her down.

“Try to sleep now. We’ll deal with everything tomorrow.” I paused. “And don’t give up yet.”

She didn’t respond.

I moved the pillows together, pulled down the comforter and sheet, gently lifted her into the center of the bed, tucked the covers around her. She rolled over and clutched one of the pillows in a tight embrace.

“I’m so, so sorry. Good night, Crystal.”

“You’re not leaving? Buck?” She reached up toward me.

“No, I’ll stay.”

I turned off the bedside light, and if it weren’t for the open curtain there’d have been no light at all. I sat in the semi-darkness for an hour, my plan to return to the Beast to sleep no longer appropriate. I opened the cot between the other side of the bed and the sliding door out to the balcony. Crystal, thank God, had succumbed to exhaustion. Her head was on the pillow facing me—her eyes were closed, she wasn’t crying or quivering, and her breathing was steady. I hoped she’d sleep straight through the night, because tomorrow would likely be hell.

Once I drew the drapes, the room was pitch black. I slid my shirt over my head, dropped my shorts, and crawled into the cot. It had been a grueling two days before I had to watch a woman I cared for reduced to a catatonic heap of grief. I wasn’t under the covers five minutes before I was as dead to the world as my roommate.

IDREAMT OF THE jail in Roadtown. Bramble was there, goading me, then he morphed into a guy with dreadlocks who had brass knuckles, only it wasn’t Brass Knuckles, it was—

I sat up halfway, an arm raised to defend, or fight.

“What—”

“It’s me.”

Crystal?

She’d crawled onto my cot.

“Hold me, John,” she said.

I felt her skin against mine. She had no clothes on—

“Crystal,” I said. “It’s me, Buck—”

She placed her hand over my mouth.

“Hold me…please. Just hold me.”

What the—oh, God, no…

I turned onto my side. Our bare chests came together. Crystal buried her head in my neck. Her warm body squirmed in even closer. I tried to lie still, but my mind spun. Maybe she was dreaming, delirious—she’d called me John.

But she was kissing my neck now, and my body started to respond as she worked her way up toward my mouth.

She wanted to make love—to her husband?

I was