Page 3 of Rogue Wave

As I continued to stroll along the shore, something black and sparkly caught my eye under the driftwood.

I gasped. “Ooooh…is that…a black abalone shell?”

Oh, shell yes!

It looked huge, but it was definitely shiny and had what appeared to be a few barnacles on it. I reached down to grab it and pulled it out.

What?

Okay, this wasn’t a shell.

This was…duct tape. Wrapped around a trash bag.

What the hell is this?

It was shaped like a brick. It also weighed as much as a brick.

I looked down at where I had found it and spotted another. Part of the black bag on that one had been ripped off. I noticed clear plastic…with a white cake inside… That was when it hit me.

I’d seen these before on the news.

And heard of them washing ashore before.

Oh, God.

I hadn’t found barnacle-covered shells. I’d found bricks. Bricks of drugs.

Oh, shit.

What do I do now?

Is this a 911 situation?

Probably not. It wasn’t exactly life or death.

I could call Hank, but he’d probably think I had something to do with it. Bare minimum, he’d probably write me a ticket for taking things from the beach or something.

“Ugh.” I sighed.

I had to call him. Even if I looked up the non-emergency number, they’d likely just call Hank, anyway. It would be better if I did it myself.

I grabbed my phone and pulled up the number he’d given me shortly after I moved in. At the time, I’d assumed he was giving it to me as a friendly, neighborly gesture—until he’d said, “Use this for emergencies only.” My fingers hesitated for a few moments before finally hitting the call button.

“Sheriff McAlister,” he answered gruffly.

“Umm…Hank? This is Hazel,” I said nervously into the phone. “Your neighbor, Hazel. Hazel O’Hara.”

“I know who you are, Hazel.” His response was polite but held a tinge of annoyance.

Of course he did. He knew exactly who I was. Apparently, down to the minute I washed my car.

I’d better get this over with.

“I’m at the beach behind your house, and…well…I found drugs,” I explained and then used my toe to lightly kick away some of the driftwood to reveal a few more black bricks. “And by the looks of it, I found a lot.”

2

“If you ghost them, that’s not rejection—it’s natural selection.”