Chapter Thirty-Six

Crome was ticked off. Blu had made a call and was gone, not telling him anything. Tess and Darcy left, too, going somewhere they also didn’t disclose. Plus, his bike was on the other side of town. He said, “Come on, kid.”

“Where to?” Pelton asked, but Crome knew the kid didn’t care as long as it was in pursuit of violence.

“Well, right now you can take me back to my bike and check on your bar.”

Pelton seemed visibly disappointed.

“And then,” Crome said, “you can buy me a cup of coffee.”

“Gee,” Pelton said, “can I pump your gas and wax your Harley, too?”

“No need to get all sensitive now.”

Pelton walked to the door. “You coming or not?”

Crome needed to get back to working alone.

And then Patricia said, “I’m coming with you.”

Crome would have rather she stayed.

Before he could object, Pelton said, “Normally I’d say no, but I don’t want to be looking for three missing women. Two’s more than enough.”

The kid was right. But Crome still needed to ditch them. Patricia would be safe with Pelton in his bar.

  

Tess watched Darcy work, first talking to several sources using her Jeep’s Bluetooth, and then stopping at what had to be the worst dive in the lowcountry. Brack’s wife had asked her to come along and curiosity more than anything else had prompted her to say yes.

When Darcy parked in front of the dilapidated building on the west side of town, Tess had a feeling she should know about this place. She asked, “Is this where Crome and Harmony found Tim, the drug dealer who shot her last year?”

“Yes.” Darcy put the SUV into park, got out, and waited for Tess.

Tess had the feeling that Darcy was one of those people who worked extremely efficiently and did not waste steps or words. If Tess did not want to be left behind, she needed to keep up.

Before they got to the door, Tess recognized the song playing in the bar. It was Foreigner’s “Dirty White Boy.” Her parents were Generation Xers and listened to eighties music all the time. She’d been force-fed classic rock her entire life.

They entered the derelict bar. Dim lighting and worn linoleum greeted them and Tess found herself realizing there were no windows in the place. She loved living in Charleston. There was so much scenery that she could never get enough. It was one of the reasons she found herself attracted to Blu. The way he lived—his island—told her he was a potential soul mate. Sitting on his porch overlooking the marsh and his horses at dawn or dusk was some of the best viewing in the lowcountry.

Inside the bar the scenery was another version of lowcountry wildlife, rundown forty-year-olds with addiction issues and felony records.

Next to these lost souls, she and Darcy stood out. Instead of dingy jeans and soiled t-shirts covering middle-aged stagnation, the women were brightly clothed, tanned, and slender.

Darcy avoided the half dozen men seated around the bar and went to the one pouring the drinks.

Tess had to really strain her memory to come up with what she remembered about the place. Crome and Harmony had come here looking for a drug dealer named Tim who had information on a missing stripper. Harmony had been upset because Crome had gone around her and gotten the tip from Darcy, and shown up mad and emotional. Crome managed to get into a bar fight with the owner and two others and ended up killing Tim the drug dealer. But not before Harmony had been shot. Overall it had been a big mess.

What happened afterward was what Tess struggled to recall. It was something about Darcy’s source being another bartender that worked in the place. The same one that eventually bought it after the previous owner went to jail for pulling a shotgun on Crome and shooting one of his bar patrons in the kneecap. The victim of the shooting would walk with a limp for the rest of his life which would be less than five years if he didn’t change his lifestyle.

The man Darcy spoke with now, a thirty-something-year-old African American named Derek with a stylish afro and trimmed beard, medium-dark skin, and a toned build over a six-foot frame, was her original source. He was also the bar’s new owner.

Some people in a similar position might not appreciate being seen talking to two semi-retired news correspondents. They might be afraid of being labeled as snitches. Derek was not one of them. From what Tess knew about him, he had started with nothing in a North Charleston slum and had survived by learning the right information was worth something.

Darcy had done a segment on gang activity and had stumbled across Derek as she worked the story. He knew a lot about what went on in Charleston County. When Darcy wanted to find an answer to Crome’s question about Tim who supplied low-end strippers with coke, she knew to call Derek. And he knew who she was talking about.

What Derek got out of the arrangement was a little hazy.

After Darcy had finished and they were outside again in the lowcountry oven, Tess asked, “Why’s he a source?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what does he get out of it? You’re a married, uppity white chick who isn’t known to stray. He’s risking a lot just to talk to you.”

Darcy gave Tess a weak smile. “When I worked for Patricia, I didn’t care about anything but getting to the bottom of the story. I have a lot of money, something most of my colleagues don’t have. And I wasn’t afraid to pay well for information.”

“So Derek’s on your payroll?”

“In a roundabout sort of way.”

Tess waited.

Darcy said, “He has a special needs son. I got him into a program.”

“And Derek feels obligated to help.”

“Yes.”

Normal people might call that a bribe. But Tess and Darcy were not normal. They both lived for the story. Investigative reporting was tough and most of the people who liked to talk never told the truth. It was a rare thing when they could get someone who knew the truth to speak it. And Derek’s son was now getting the help he needed.

“What did he have to say?” she asked.

Darcy unlocked the doors of her Jeep with the key fob. “We’re in trouble. I’ll tell you when we’re inside.”

They got in and Darcy rubbed her eyes with a hand. Tess noticed a worry line just off-center of the pretty woman’s forehead. Harmony and she and Tess were pretty much equals, all things considered. Each had their high points.

But Darcy was the whole package. Beautiful, ambitious, rich, worldly, connected, and married to the catch of the lowcountry. Nearly every single woman wanted Brack and to most of them it really didn’t matter that he was married. Tess and Harmony spent many a Saturday evenings in his bar flirting with him, and Darcy knew it.

The time Harmony and Tess got drunk with Crome and Blu, and Brack invited them all back to his house, was something she would never forget. Most men, if they were able to get drunk versions of Tess and Harmony corralled in their homes, would be working angles to get one or both of them into bed, but Brack invited them back to his house where he and his wife lived.

Blu was sort of an older version of Brack, except that he wasn’t. Blu wasn’t married, which was why Tess felt it was now or never.

Darcy closed her door and pressed the start button. The V-8 engine in her SUV rumbled to life. She turned the air conditioner on max and stretched out her hands to capture the blowing air.

Tess said, “How are we in trouble?”

“Word through the underworld is someone is giving Blu and Crome a hard time. They don’t know why, but they are waiting to see what happens. Some of them are even cheering it on.”

“What else did he say?”

“That this wasn’t about drugs or strippers or prostitutes or any of Blu’s current high-dollar clients. Derek’s almost positive about that. He figures he would have heard more if that were the case. So that leaves something that happened in the past of Blu Carraway Investigations, either with Crome or Blu.”

“But why Harmony?” Tess asked.

“Why Maureen?” Darcy said.

Tess didn’t understand and Darcy must have read it on her face.

“Neither woman is part of the distant past of Blu or Crome.”

“Crome and Maureen were an item a few years ago, before Crome took his three-year sabbatical.”

“I thought about that,” Darcy said. “But I think she was chosen because it would cause Crome heartache today.”

Tess nodded, understanding where Darcy was going with the thought. “The guy got cocky after he was able to take Maureen and not get caught. The next target would be us or Billie. Oh my—” She interrupted herself and dug into her purse.

Darcy said, “I’ve already called Billie and told her to be careful.”

“Good,” Tess said.

“So tell me,” Darcy said, “is that why you’re moving in on Blu?”