Writing Life, One Word at a Time

THE HIGH TIDE KILLER

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedinmail

Chapter 1

BeachShe looked down. The blood red spot on his chest oozed the man’s life. The salty water of Panama City’s sandy beach swirled a reddened froth over her bare feet. The beam of her pencil flashlight danced over his soulless body and brought an evil grin to her face. He had succumbed to her wily way and bought into his destiny.

Jasmine Dane settled the Beretta, with its silencer, in the middle space created by the feminine assets straining at her yellow bikini top. The new moon glistened on the rippling water; its scarlet tone diminishing as it receded.

The man in the red pickup saw her signal; grabbed the beach blanket, and headed down the beach.

“Wow, you did it!”

“Course I did!”

“Is he… is he…”

Jasmine only answer was a scowl.

“What’d he say?”

“He thought I was playing a joke,” she grabbed one end of the blanket.

Come on let’s get him wrapped up and get out’a here.”

They spread the blanket next to Danny‘s body as the crimson tide ebbed out.

Jasmine cooed, “Come on honey,” as she dragged her husband’s body onto the beach blanket. Josh helped her wrap him up. They struggled, one on each end, until they slid Danny Dane into the bed of Josh’s red pickup.

Jasmine bent over hands on her knees, breathing hard.

Josh slammed the tailgate closed.

“Damn Josh, take it easy, we don’t need company.”

“Come on; let’s get this show on the road.” He jumped in and started the truck.

Jasmine hesitated with her door open. She heard the rolling surf and looked down the driveway beyond the Dane summer retreat.

“I love you Mister Gulf; you keep your secrets forever and forever.”