Black Jack Point Read Free Page A

psychics do a better job, sweetie.’ Lucy owned the Coastal Psychics Network, which, as she put it, served the
     needy and the bored across Texas.
    ‘At two bucks ninety-nine a minute, that is robbery.’ She fingered the amber crystal on her necklace. ‘I at least run a clean
     ship. Maybe I ought to advertise more. I’m cheaper than Madam Not-Reading-the-Cards-Right.’
    He hugged her a little closer, gave her a tissue for her nose. ‘Need to tell you something about Patch.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘He was the one suggested I call you for a date.’
    She laughed but it was half tears. ‘Did he now?’
    ‘Called me up after you were in my court. Said I had given you too heavy a sentence for those unpaid tickets.’
    ‘Not unpaid. Ignored on principle.’ Same argument she’d used in court. A little more effective with him now. Patch had settled
     her five hundred dollars’ worth of fines. She’d done her community service, Whit checking on her a little more than needed.
    ‘He said I ought to even it out by taking you to dinner.’
    ‘Old men playing matchmaker is a bad idea.’ Lucy wiped at her eyes. ‘Because they won the war they think they know everything.’
    A deputy – young, sunburned, blond buzz cut bright with sweat – appeared in the doorway. ‘Judge Mosley? Could I speak with
     you?’ His mouth barely moved as he spoke.
    ‘Are they dead?’ Lucy asked. ‘Is it them?’
    ‘Yes, ma’am. It looks like it’s them. I’m real sorry.’
    Lucy put her face in her palms. ‘Well, shit. It
was
a bad vibe,’ she finally said from between her hands.

4
    Claudia Salazar let the sun warm her closed eyes. She had dozed on the pool lounge chair, the water evaporating off her skin,
     thinking, I
could get to like this.
    Claudia’s past few days had been a bitch: finally closing out a series of burglaries on Port Leo’s south side, aimed squarely
     at the tourist condos, by arresting a repeat offender who sadly had three kids and was bound back to jail; covering two extra
     late shifts for a patrol officer friend who was down with a bad summer cold, because the whole Port Leo police department
     was short-handed; and then the terrible Gilbert/Tran murders, which were beyond Port Leo’s jurisdiction but the sheriffs office
     and the police department helped each other with high-profile cases. David Power, her ex-husband, had politely declined the
     police department’s help and her thought had been:
Pride goeth before a fall.
It was the most biblical thing she had thought in years. She wondered, without ego, if he was too irritated with her to want
     the department’s help.
    She decided not to care. As of today, she was officially on vacation.
    She opened her eyes, sat up on the lounge chair, watched Ben standing by a table between the pool and the French doors, fiddling
     with a stubborn cork on a wine bottle.
    ‘What a rotten guest I am,’ she said. ‘I fell asleep.’
    Ben Vaughn pried the cork out and grinned. ‘You’re exhausted. Don’t worry about it.’
    She smiled. If she’d gone swimming with David, drunk wine in the early afternoon, then dozed, he would haveused it as a basis for analysis:
Did I bore you? What’s wrong with me?
Ben just let her be, and she was grateful for that.
    Claudia stood, feeling self-conscious in a new purple bikini a bit too adventurous for her, pulled a long T-shirt over her
     head, and smoothed it out along her hips. 'No more wine. Two glasses is my limit.’
    ‘You’re on vacation,’ Ben said. ‘I made lunch. Hope that’s okay.’
    ‘I’ll find it in my heart to forgive you. So what can I do to help?’
    ‘Just sit. You’re my guest.’ Ben disappeared back into the house.
    The deck for the pool ran along the edge of St Leo Bay, and in the summer heat the bay water looked green as old glass, the
     waves like white lips rising to the surface for a kiss, then vanishing. She put on her sunglasses. Vacation. Well, a few days
     off and then back to the grind.