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“You’re grinning, aren’t you? Admit it. Grandfather’s a tiny terror when he’s had enough.”
“Okay, it’s a tough love.”
“There you go. Talk to you tomorrow.” He hung up and reclined on the bed. Randall made a list of food to buy in the morning. Grandfather ate like a bird, so he needed some extra groceries for standby. Sleep came easy at first, but in the early morning hours some terrible dream invaded his mind, and Randall awoke with a yell stuck in his throat. He calmed down, letting his pounding heart slow, and could only recall one image from the nightmare: An open-mouthed human face with glistening shark teeth, partially hidden in shadow, and advancing toward him.
Chapter 3
John picked up Hunter at her hotel and drove them to Lauderdale. Blondie’s wasn’t crowded, so they grabbed an outside table and ordered burgers and beer. The breeze came off the ocean; bringing faint briny smells of seaweed and fish, with an occasional coconut fragrance from a passing pedestrian’s suntan lotion.
“How’s your case going?” John asked.
“Slow. We were in Little Haiti and South Beach, checking leads on the ship’s captain. I thought I saw him and tried to catch the guy on foot, but it didn’t work out. Might not have even been him, just had the build, and walked something like I remembered.”
“You didn’t see his eyes?”
“He wore sunglasses.”
“Too bad.”
You visited with the Miami Detectives?”
“We traded notes, but they didn’t have any luck, either. And the ICE Investigator, Wallis, told us the U.S. Attorney has DOJ working on it, too. We’re all busy little bees, but not much honey showing for the effort.”
“You’re not working a simple case. Even with everyone involved, it might take a while.”
“I did meet a psychic though, so there’s that.” She winked as she lifted the green bottle of Dos Equis.
“I was gonna offer my help, but since you have your very own fortuneteller, you’ve got it covered.”
“A Haitian psychic, no less, or maybe Jamaican, or Barbados. The Caribbean accents all sound the same to me.”
“Won’t be long before you can tell the difference. It is subtle, though.”
“She was helpful. She told me where the guy went.”
“That’s good.”
Hunter tapped the bottle to her lower lip, “Funny thing, she told me what direction he was taking, but she was inside the building and couldn’t see him.”
“Was she right?”
“Yeah, I caught glimpses of him, but he lost me after a bit. How did she know?”
“Want me to check her out? You have her name, right?”
Hunter took out Ariel’s card and handed it to John. He said, “I’ll run it in the morning and call you.” He handed the card back, saying, “Nice card.”
They started on the burgers and didn’t talk for a while. Hunter felt good, enjoying John’s company and smelling the sea. John was not the wreck he had been the first time they were together, and Hunter was glad for him. He still carried the same hint of physical intensity, like something inside him would explode if he didn’t maintain control, but she only picked up on it because she had seen it explode. If there had ever been a time for it, it had been then, when the terrifying human monster Prendell Taylor tried to kill them. Hunter shuddered, and John asked, “Are you cold?”
“Nah, just had a thought. I’m fine.” She took her mind off the memories by saying, “You ever see someone that is sort of creepy, but appears normal?”
“Well, you appear normal.”
“I’m serious. We ran into these two men twice. They’re both Haitians, and businessmen, and the one, Ringo Bazin, he makes the hair stand up on my neck.”
“What about the other one?”
“He’s the boss, more sophisticated and a CEO type. Not like this Bazin guy as far as sending off bad vibes.”
