Preppy: The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater, Part Two (King, #6)

The older man seemed to be thinking over my offer although I’d wished he’d think it over faster. MUCH FASTER. “That would be good because the stuff I bought today across the bridge was...how you say... shit,” he said with a very heavy Spanish accent. I stepped into the hot tub in only my boxers, my legs having no choice but to brush against speedo-man in the small tub. I handed Dre her glass of wine and helped her into the tub next to me. I grabbed a handful of water and wet my hair before wrapping my arm around Dre’s shoulders and pulling her close to my side.

“I’m Fred and that sexy gentleman is Meryl,” Fred announced before playfully swatting Meryl on the shoulder. “And you said we should have built in Miami because there is no excitement in Logan’s Beach.” He held his glass up in our direction, and then gasped with whispered delight when the officer hopped the back fence and started heading our way. “How much more excitement do you need?” he said, behind his hand as if the officer could read lips in the dark.

By the time the officer got to us, out of breath with leaves and twigs stuck all over his dark blue uniform, the four of us were in full fake conversation, laughing and clinking our glasses together like old friends.

“Is this the friend you said was joining us?” Dre asked, she turned to the officer. “Did you bring more wine?” She downed her glass. “‘Cause this is gooooood stuff.”

“You always did have a taste for the expensive,” Fred teased, sounding like a natural born actor. “What can we do for you officer...Beaman?” he asked with a flirty tone, cocking his head to the side to read his badge.

“You two,” Beaman said, pointing from me to Dre. “Out of there right now. You’re under arrest for vandalism, evading an officer of the law...”

“I think you’re mistaken, Sir,” I said. “You’ve got the wrong people. We’ve been here for hours with our friends having a good time. We did hear some rustling in the brush though, so you might want to check the woods.” I smiled and took a sip of my wine which was actually pretty fucking good considering I didn’t know shit about wine.

“Don’t make me add more charges to the list,” the officer warned, placing his hand on his gun and playfully tapping his fingers over the strapped buttoned over the holster. “Like failure to cooperate with an investigation, and...”

“Wait just a second officer. These are our guests in our home and they’ve been here all night like they said. Now move on and keep searching for who you’re mistaking them for,” Fred argued.

Beaman shook his head and didn’t take his eyes from me as he said, “I’m not mistaking anything, sir. Now you two get the fuck out of there and come with me or I’ll...” he flicked the strap on his holster open.

This single move pissed me off to the point that my vision blurred with anger. Normally, as if anything were ever fucking normal, this little show of power would be the trigger setting me off into a rage that ended up with me calling Smoke for a body cleanup. But I didn’t want to put Dre in any sort of danger. I couldn’t.

It was only a misdemeanor. What the hell.

Score:

Preppy: 78,903,948,098

Law: 1

I guess I could go with him this once.

I was about to set my wine glass down and do as he said when Meryl stood up, the water beaded on his chest and slid down over his curly grey chest hair, landing in a puddle over his pot belly which hid whatever speedo he was wearing.

God I hoped he was wearing a speedo.

“Let me ask you a little something, did you see these two commit the crime you are accusing them of?” Meryl asked, sternly, taking a very professional stance as if he weren’t mostly naked.

Or possibly naked.

Shit, he was most definitely naked.

The officer sighed in frustration. “No, but we saw them running and got a call...”

“Running isn’t illegal,” he argued. “If it were them that is. Which it most certainly was not.”

Officer Beaman opened his mouth to protest but Meryl cut him off. “Furthermore officer,” Meryl stressed the word OFFICER, “this is private property, where I am entertaining guests, and you, having not witnessed whatever the crime is in question, have no legal right to be on my property. If you feel the need to come back or think you have valid legal reason to do so, you are welcome to come back with a warrant, or else my office will be dealing with you and believe me that they will rain down the wraith of an angry old man six months from retirement, trying to enjoy his vacation, the likes of which you have NEVER seen!” Meryl reached toward the table, plucked his wallet from his jeans and handed the officer a card.

I was downright shocked when Officer Beamans eyes went wide and he tipped his hat to Meryl, offering his apologies. “So sorry to have disturbed your party, sir.”

We were just about home free, the cop was walking back toward the fence, when a kid a few years younger than me came bursting through the house onto the back deck. He didn’t glance up from the bags in his hand, just set them on the table and began to rummage through them. The cop stopped to take notice of the kid.

“Pops, they didn’t have the kind you wanted. But they had this other brand with the state of Florida on it. It’s slim pickings in the stores in this po-dunk town so you’ll have to deal with the cigarettes I could find. Fred do you guys have any...” The kid stopped mid sentence when he realized that Fred and Meryl weren’t alone. His eyes landed on Dre and then me as he stood frozen in shock.

“Hey kid,” Beaman called out. The kids head snapped to the officer.

“Uh, yeah?” He asked, holding his hands in the air as if he were under arrest.

“Fuck,” Fred muttered.

“You been here all day?”

“Yeah, sure have,” the kid answered.

“Fuck,” it was my turn to mutter.

“Those two been here all day?” He asked, looking downright triumphant as he pointed to me and Doc. She squeezed my arm.

“Uhhh, yeah, man. It’s been a party up in here,” the kid responded without skipping a beat. He laughed like a stoner in a movie would and lit a cigarette. “I just made a smoke run.”

“Tell me, if they’ve been here all day. What are their names?”

The kid smiled and tapped on his head with his open palm as if he were trying to will out a memory of an introduction that never took place. “Ah man. I didn’t catch the girl’s name. First time I met her was tonight and I’ve had a lot of beers.” he turned to Dre. “Sorry, I’m not real good with names.”

“Alright then. What’s his name?” The officer asked, pointing to me. Fred sat up straight and Meryl was just about to interject as the kid scratched his head and yawned like he was questioned by police on a daily basis and the entire thing was boring him to death.

I think I almost drowned when he said. “Oh, him? That’s Preppy, but don’t fucking ask me what his real name is cause I don’t fucking know. Everyone just calls him Preppy or Prep. Is this some sort of weird test?” He took a seat at the patio table. “Am I on a hidden camera show?” He ducked his head and inspected the inside of the open table umbrella.

By the time he’d pulled his head out the officer was gone.

“Holy fuck!” Fred exclaimed. “That was fucking great!”

“Why was he so scared of you?” Dre asked Meryl.