Excerpt From: Floating Face Down

From: Chapter Twenty-one

     “It sure has been quiet around here,” Casey said, as he opened another packet of sugar.

     “You’re gonna get fat or something even worse if you keep putting all that sugar in your coffee. What is that? The third one?” asked the Sheriff.

     “What can I say? I like it sweet,” Casey replied.

     Sheriff Berkson and Deputy George were sitting in Minnie’s Diner, discussing the lack of activity for the past six days. The traffic stops were down, there had only been a few nuisance calls, and no funeral processions to help direct to a cemetery.

     “Have you come up with any more suspects in the Johnson shooting?” Casey asked.

     “Nope,” replied the Sheriff. “Cuddihey was the only one I could come up with. Even though I think he tried to kill Bobby, and probably did kill Katie, I can’t prove it. His gun was clean and Bobby still isn’t talking.”

     “You think Bobby had an affair with Katie, Sheriff?”

     “I do. I think Cuddihey found out about it and tried to kill ‘em all by driving the boat into that dock.”

     “Well,” commented Casey, “if that was his goal, he sure as hell didn’t do a very good job. I could think of a lot of other ways to get revenge. Three bullets would have done the job.”

     “Anger does funny things to people, Casey. There’s no telling what someone is capable of.”

“I just hope that’s the end of it with him and Bobby. It’s nice to have peace and quiet again.”

     Sheriff Berkson frowned. “I have a feeling that we haven’t heard the end of it, yet. You know what they say about trouble. It always comes in threes.”

     Casey looked up and glanced at the Sheriff. “Well, that’s a doom and gloom attitude.”

     “Well, just remember this, Casey. Things never get so bad that they can’t get worse.”

     “How do you think Funtelli is doing?” Casey asked, changing the subject.

     “He seems okay. I guess he’s accepting the JoJo thing. That was a lot to swallow all at once.”

     “Yea, he’ll be fine. He sure has been quiet, though,” Casey said.

     “He never has been much of a talker,” the Sheriff said. “Thank goodness,” he added, laughing.

     “Wish he’d find himself a nice girl and settle down,” Casey remarked.

     “He will. Just has to find the right one. Phone,” he said, as he picked his phone up off the table, and answered a call.

     “What’s up?” he asked Officer Tim Carlson. 

     Casey watched as the Sheriff frowned. The Sheriff ended the call, threw some money on the table, and grabbed his hat. “Let’s go,” he said. “Bad car accident out by the bridge.”

 

     Bobby hobbled into the kitchen. Charlie was sitting at the table, totally absorbed in what he was doing.

     “Whatcha doing there, Charlie?” Bobby asked playfully.

     Charlie jumped. “Good god, Bobby,” he exclaimed. “You gotta quit creeping up on people. You scared the crap out of me?”

     Bobby laughed. “Hell, Charlie. Your nerves are shot. So, just what are you doing?”

     “I’m building a bomb. Gonna blow Cal to smithereens.”