Sweet Paradise by Gene Desrochers (most read books in the world of all time .txt) 📕

different tangent, would Isabelle continue competitive archery without her maniacal uncle pushing her? She had a competition, The Virgin Islands Archery Championships, the finals scheduled for Saturday. They were outfitting the Emile Griffith Ballpark near the seaplane ramp since it had the best location, parking and capacity. I intended to be there.

The small-gauge fishing line tugged gently against my finger, yanking me out of my thoughts. I tugged back, careful not to pull the bait away before the fish was hooked. Tug-tug, tug-tug, then nothing. I pulled the line out. A naked hook.

“Nicely played, fishy friend.”

Staring into the crystal water, I searched in vain for the culprit. Can’t see well through water, even when it’s this clear. Three dark shapes circled above the silky sand. There was no way of knowing which one had taken the bait.

Shooing away a patch of relentless flies, I dropped the remainder carcass into the water, packed up and propped myself against the crook of a palm. My tilted hat blacked out the bright afternoon.

I STIRRED A FEW HOURS later in time to see the setting sun blast orange stains over the clouds near the horizon. A bunch of people had gathered in various locations on the beach, including a young girl and a man I hoped was her father. Then they kissed as he caressed her back. Not her father ... I hoped.

What I’d really been fuming about finally hit me. I needed to talk to Yarey about her father, and I wasn’t looking forward to that conversation. Yarey had been subbing for Irene in my latest fantasies.

Upon leaving Dana, I’d turned off my cell, knowing she’d be relentless. I wasn’t wrong. Switching it on, I discovered eight missed calls. Five from Dana, and three from a local number that looked vaguely familiar.

It turned out to be the landline from the Bacon residence. The last call had only come in moments ago. The message was from Hillary.

“Boise, I need to speak to you. Please. I know you have no reason to help me, but I need your help. Just come to the house when you get this. I hope it’s not too late.”

For a change, she sounded sober.

HILLARY ANSWERED THE door when I arrived. Her dress leaned to one side, like it might melt off her body from the heat of her distress. The wrinkles that she covered with foundation poked through the caked make-up. There was no hiding her age today. Even stranger, she didn’t seem to care.

“Thank God! Where have you been?”

“Nice to see you, too, Hillary.”

She held a glass of white wine and took a gulp before pulling me inside. Her calling me was way out of character, but the wine gave me hope that some sense of normalcy remained. The sounds of angry voices boomed from the kitchen.

“What are you waiting for? Get in there before they kill each other.” She shoved me forward into the hallway outside the kitchen. Daryl and Herbie were in each other’s face.

Daryl shouted, “You bastard! It’s the least you owe to me and mine. The least. It’s the same arrangement I had with Francine.”

“I do not owe you or that woman anything,” Herbie spat back. “Besides, my mother was a fool to pay so much for what? A babysitter? You know it wasn’t about a real job.”

“Herbie!”

“Her name is Gertrude and by all that’s holy you owe her more than you could ever pay, but I’m giving you a number ... ”

“HERBIE!”

Both men turned, their faces burned red with seething anger.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Herbie demanded.

“I called him,” Hillary said. “We need a third party for this negotiation.”

“We are not negotiating with this man,” Herbie said, moving toward Hillary while pointing back at Daryl.

“Hey there, Boise,” Daryl said pleasantly.

I nodded at him. “Daryl. Herbie. I’m not sure why I’m here, but if I can help ... ”

“You can’t,” Herbie said while staring at Hillary. “What the fuck, Hill? How clear do I have to be? No more outsiders. We already have this fool making waves and now you want to spread our business to this one? What’s to stop him from blackmailing us too?”

“Blackmail?” I asked. “Whoa, what is happening here? I want no part of any illegal activity.”

“See, Hill? He wants no part. This here involves this man.” He again pointed at Daryl. “Blackmailing us. Blackmailing Francine. This one ... ” He jabbed a finger in my direction. I was getting sick and tired of all the pointing. “This one, he doesn’t even know the truth about Harold the day our mother died.”

“What truth?” I asked.

“Herbie, shut up,” Hillary shouted.

“Harold was not with us when Mama was killed. We lied.”

This hit me between the eyes like cold water, but I had no time to shake it off. I wasn’t sure it mattered. They had lied, but I already knew who the killers were and Harold wasn’t involved, was he?

“How many times I gotta tell you? I worked for your mother,” Daryl said menacingly.

“He’s a degenerate gambler who’s on the run from someone you don’t want to owe money to. So, goodbye, Boise. And it wasn’t nice knowing you. Shouldn’t you go interview Harold and do your fucking job?”

Daryl grinned. “You see how they is, Boise? They look down on us. They always looked down, even when my Gertrude was helping him with his problem. Now, we want help. It ain’t blackmail. It’s what we’re owed.”

“Is that right? You are owed. If anyone is owed, it’s Gertrude. Does she even know about this?”

At this, Daryl paused. “Naw, she don’t know.”

“You see. She doesn’t even know. And, if I know her, she doesn’t want any part of this. She wants to stay out of the Bacon family forever. Right? In fact, she probably told you to steer clear. Where’d you say you were going when you left to come down here?”

“I didn’t tell her.”

“What was that?” Herbie demanded.

“Nothing. I didn’t tell her nothing. But