Page 27 of Juicy Pickle

Oh. I didn’t know that.

“But you know he’s going to want to talk to you.” She hesitates. “And I don’t think it will be pretty.”

“What won’t be pretty?” Gloria’s burly husband eases onto the lounger, trying to avoid spilling his load. I try not to stare at the bear-like gray hair furring his chest.

“Nothing important, dear, just a little work concern.” Gloria accepts the margarita he hands her, and I marvel at his agility in carrying a plate and two drinks. Find a man who can carry food and two frozen cocktails to you on a beach.

“When will you talk to Rhett?” I ask.

“Not before I eat this,” she says. “Find yourself a quiet spot and have a moment. You’ll know when he knows.”

I bet I will. The roar will probably carry all the way to the Bahamas.

I stand up and brush the sand off my knees. “Thank you, Gloria.” I want to petition my case, ask if anyone has looked into the actual fraud, but I don’t want to disturb her lunch. There’s a lot of trip left to work on that.

As long as Rhett Armstrong doesn’t toss me to the sharks when he finds out.

And that will be soon—the amount of time it takes Gloria to eat a taco.

12

RHETT

Imust fall asleep in the sun because I dream about rain. I startle awake, realizing Caleb is squeezing his shirt on my face.

Now, it reallyislike being with my brothers.

“I hope you wore sunscreen, bro, or you are going to look like a lobster,” he says. “Sarah and I are going to hit the kayaks. You wanna come?”

I consider it for a moment. I shield my eyes and peer at the far end of the beach, past the chairs, the dock, and the food hut, to the kayak shack.

It seems quite a few people have gotten the same idea, and that part of the shore is littered with employees pumping oars through the waves.

“That’s all right. I’ll hang out here.”

“All right. Should I tell them to bring you more drinks?” Caleb slings his towel over his shoulder. Sarah is packing her beach bag.

“Nah. I’ll switch to water.” A dull ache pounds in my head. Crime and punishment. It’s already happening.

Sarah passes my chair. “You sure you want to be over here alone? We can move the loungers closer to the rest of the group.”

“That’s okay. I could use the space.”

Caleb scoops up his flip-flops. “Okey-dokey, boss man. Catch you on the other side.”

The two of them trudge through the sand, laughing and bumping into each other on purpose.

I lean my head back. What I could really use right now is some Advil.

Bailey would have packed some for me. She was good at predicting little things like that when I had meetings. Late-night session? She’d put chocolate-covered espresso beans in my briefcase. Eating sushi for a lunch meeting? She knew I would be hungry two hours later and would order a sandwich to come to my office midafternoon.

Her again.

I cross my arm over my eyes. The sun is high and hot. I should get wet, maybe. Cool off.

My feet sink into the wet sand as I approach the water. It’s shallow for a good twenty feet before noticeably dropping off. I wade out a ways, then dive below the surface.

The water is clear and pale blue. My arms propel me along the ocean floor, sandy and smooth. A shadow of something catches my eye and I move toward it, bobbing up for a breath, then diving again.

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