Last Chance Harvey-Part 17 (Blogophilia 38-11)

Red and white wrappers lay on top of the coffee cups steaming in their holders. The morning sun beamed across the lake, reflection blinding the detectives as they ate breakfast. Angela’s broke apart, showering her with dry crumbs. Opening the doors, they stepped out into the cool November morning.
“Dang it!” Brushing the leftover biscuit from her skirt. “I don’t understand why you think these things are so good?”
“Got to have my chicken biscuits” Ray smiled, swallowing the last morsel. “It cures morning madness.”
“Rum’s better. ”
Looking out over the rows of docks, she sighed. “Where do you want to start?”
“Manager’s office. Maybe he’ll be able to tell us about the houseboat.”
“What if Holden finds out we’re here?”
Ray shrugged and started down the dirt road entrance. At the end was a nondescript building to the right of an empty dry dock. “Waterworld Enterprises Inc.” hung from the scarred door. Inside, There was an obese young woman behind the counter eating candy from an old Whitman’s sampler box. Angela could tell there was a pretty girl lost from the poison. She looked up as the door slammed shut.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m Sgt. Lopez with the Sheriff’s Office, is the manager in?”
“Yeah, just a second” Said in a low, whiskey tinted voice. She turned back toward an open door “Hey, Tom!”
“What?” A nasally voice responded.
“PO-lice”
A small man peeked around the door frame, a fiery red crown surrounding a sunburned head. A couple of odd looking growths poked out at the top of the forehead.
“Hi, there.” Holding a his hand out. “Tom Jarrett. What can I help you with?”
Ray slipped the photo out of his folder.
“I’m Detective Williams from the Sheriff’s Office. This is my partner, Sgt Lopez. We are looking for this person.” Holding up in front of his face. “Do you know her?”
“Herrington said you’d been by.” Jarrett motioned the officers back to the office. “Angie, if anyone calls, I’m on the boat.”
The fat woman nodded and went back to the box of chocolate. The office was tidy little museum of the lake. Photos and ad promotions from years ago competed with modern sales brochures. Facing the corner, a small desk sported a laptop with stickers from a marine supplier. Two stacks of paper slips sat on either side, face up on the left, down on the right. Jarrett pointed them to two dusty metal chairs. This man rarely had visitors.
“So, you’re looking for Corrine?” He paused. “Is she in some kind of trouble?”
“We’re not sure.”
“She was at the Frog last night.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Topic-Diana Jillian
Pic-Rebecca S. Revels
Pic guesses-Dirt road (in blog), path, hike, country, what’s at the other end?, pasture, old times, deserted.

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