Emily Kimelman - Sydney Rye 02 - Death in the Dark Read Free

I heard large paws pad into the bedroom. Blue’s silhouette filled the doorway, ears perked and head cocked. “Wanna go for a walk?” I asked sitting up.
    He came around the bed and sat on the floor by my side. Blue leaned his long neck forward and rested his big head on my lap. Blue looked up at me and then sighing, closed his eyes. I rubbed his ear and ran my hand down his strong back. Blue wouldn’t let a shark man shoot me in the face, I thought.
    But it wasn’t good enough. I got out of bed and walked into the kitchen. My gun, the one I’d bought in New York, sat in a drawer. I got it out and checked that it was loaded. Then I put it in my bag, making sure the safety was on. Finding a pair of flip flops I headed out the door. The horizon was still a dark blue and the night sky was just starting to show off its stuff. I walked toward town, through the dunes on a sandy road, itching for trouble.
    There was a little secret I was keeping in my heart. A fact that I was afraid to think about but that haunted every moment of my day… even my sleep it seemed. When my brother was murdered I wanted revenge. And I went after it. I stole the man’s treasure which had made me rich, a great thing if you want to waste your life away on a beach drinking.
    The thing is I didn’t just want that man’s money. I wanted his life. It was mine. But I was too late. When I showed up he was already dead. Mulberry thought I killed him, the police said I killed him, the media was convinced I killed him, everyone thought I got my revenge but I didn’t. Someone stole it from me. This left me with a sick urge, a need, an unyielding yearning to kill someone.
    Blue and I made it through the dunes and stepped onto the paved road that ran into town. Cars drove by us, their headlights illuminating our way, showing off the dusty edges of the road. Large billboards loomed over us every quarter mile or so advertising new apartment complexes with names lik e Sparkle s an d Golden Sand s .
    A pack of stray dogs trotted out of the dunes. When they saw us they stopped and contemplated. Blue and I kept moving. There was nothing in them that would satisfy my needs. I didn’t want to kill an animal, I wanted to kill an evil man.
    When we reached the town I headed for the bar section. I knew it was dangerous walking around at night but I was hoping something would happen. I was begging for some schmuck to be dumb enough to fuck with me.
    A couple of guys wearing plaid shorts and collared shirts, their hats on backwards, spotted me as they spilled out of a bar, blind drunk, and perpetually stupid. But before their verbal appeals for blow jobs could turn into something more sinister, their girlfriends, in minuscule skirts and teetering on high heels, tumbled out of the bar and pulled them away.
    Past where the tourists drank I walked up into the crooked streets of the ghetto. Sand and broken bottles lined the road, sure signs that trouble lurked in the shadows. Maybe it was Blue or maybe I was so obviously dangerous that no one approached us, I spent hours wandering through the town but nothing touched me.
    Eventually Blue and I went to a bar and I proceeded to get hammered. Shots of tequila chased by cool, crisp beers soothed me and made sleep seem possible. We left the bar and headed for home. I was humming the last song they’d played on the stereo. I was off key but there was no one around to care. The night was warm, the stars bright, and I was headed home. The yearning was, for the moment, subdued. We left the lights of the town and started down the paved road toward the oyster farm.
    I found my oyster farm soon after coming to Mexico while driving just to take a drive. Mulberry’s guy had come for our gold and was to return with our money in a couple of days. Both of us were anxious and sick of each other and drinking. It was early and we’d had a spat, something about frying eggs in the RV being too stinky. I can’t remember which side which of