“Tell me what they said.” She slathered cream cheese on her toasted bagel and took a bite. Her dad read every inch of the daily Pensacola News Journal and could usually repeat almost verbatim the articles he took an interest in.
“Suspicious fishing cooler retrieved by the Coast Guard,” he told her, while tipping little splashes of cream into his coffee like he was rationing it. “It didn’t mention anything about the contents or even suggest foul play or that it had body parts inside.”
Liz almost choked on her bagel.
“Why do you think there were body parts?”
“It’s okay. I won’t say anything to anybody. The little guy, the one who had all the hot dogs and couldn’t hold his liquor—Tommy? He let it slip about the foot. He said there was other stuff, too, so I’m just assuming there might be the rest of a body.”
So much for all their training. Liz knew Wilson and Ellis were green, but this was ridiculous. The entire aircrew could get suspended for something like this.
“You know there was an article in last week’s Journal. Someplace up near Washington, D.C. A possible serial killer. One of those sick bastards who kept pieces of his victim. Maybe this is related.”
“Dad, I can’t talk about it. You know I can’t discuss this.”
“I’m just talking about the news.”
He struggled with a bagel for himself, trying to cut it in half with a bread knife. Liz gently took it from him, twisted it apart, and dropped both halves in the toaster.
“Okay, so tell me what you read about the serial killer.”
CHAPTER 9
PENSACOLA, FLORIDA
Liz Bailey fumbled around the kitchen trying to fix breakfast, silently vowing that she would take time to buy the things she couldn’t find. She hadn’t lived in her father’s house since high school. Her sister had lived here until she married Scott. That was two years ago—just enough time for her father to arrange things so that only he could find them.
She’d moved back in temporarily only because the housing she was promised with her transfer wouldn’t be available for two months. Now searching for the toaster she wondered if she’d last that long.
She turned up the radio for the local weather report.
“Hurricane Isaac is expected to slam into the western side of Cuba today. Last night it bulldozed over Grand Cayman, flooding homes, ripping off roofs, and toppling trees. More than half the homes on Grand Cayman are said to be damaged. And yet, Isaac hasn’t lost any of its steam. It’s now a cat 4 and traveling about ten miles an hour with sustained winds of 150 miles an hour. And guess what folks, it’s still expected to take that slight turn to the north/northeast, which means, you guessed it, we’re smack-dab in the middle of its path. Landfall may be sometime Wednesday. Time to start boarding up, stocking up, and moving out, folks.”
“They’re always wrong,” her dad said as he shuffled in, still in his pajamas though he had been up for an hour reading the newspaper and drinking coffee.
Finally, the toaster! Liz found it in the bottom cabinet under the sink. Of course, the last place she’d think to look. She pulled it out without any comment. Trish would have commented, scolded, and instructed where the toaster should be stored.
“Not this time, Dad. The CG and the NHC has the Florida Panhandle in the crosshairs.”
“Well, that’s not where the media says it’s gonna hit. They’re all in New Orleans again, ready and waiting. This morning’s Journal has the projected path drawn from Galveston to Tampa, and they all act like New Orleans is the only place they give a damn about.”
“You should get gas today. And batteries and bottled water. Won’t Trish and Scott need to come stay with you? They can’t stay on the bay.”
“I’ve got a whole container of batteries and plenty of bottled water in the garage. Enough food in the refrigerators to feed us for a week.”
“You’ll need a generator just to keep your three refrigerators running.”
“I’ve got three generators.”
“Then you better get gas today, Dad. Will you do that? Will you promise me you’ll get the gas cans filled today?”
“Sure, sure.”
“You won’t put it off?”
“I’ll go out before lunch. But you’re not gonna be here anyway. Where will they send you?”
“Probably Jacksonville. Someplace out of the path but close enough we can fly in immediately after. Remember, I told you. We came in right behind Katrina, so close I could see the swell of the backstorm. I imagine we’ll try to do the same this time.”
“Those boys sure have taken a liking to you.” He filled his coffee cup, standing beside her as she waited for the toaster to spit out her bagel.
“Yeah, we’re all a bunch of buddies.” She wanted to add that it was easy to be buddies after a few beers, but she’d never let her dad know that it was anything different.
“They have a small article in the Journal about that cooler you brought up yesterday.”
“Really?”