Read Online Murder Takes a Break by Bill Crider - Free Book Online

the belt as the kid started cranking on his reel.   It took him a few minutes, but the two of them finally got a hubcap-sized flounder close enough to shore for everyone to see it.   The father got a dip net and leaned down toward the water to scoop up their catch.
    I didn't hang around to see if he landed the fish.   By that time I'd spotted Big Al sitting in a sagging aluminum lawn chair about thirty yards farther along the walk.   There was no sign of Henry J., however, which I thought was unusual but encouraging.   I went back to the truck to get Dino.
    He was standing there with the rods and the tackle box in one hand and the bait bucket in the other, looking as if he wished he were back at home with his big-screen TV and his complicated remote control.
    "Well?" he said.
    "We're in luck?"
    "You mean Big Al's not here?"
    "No, I mean Big Al is here.   Not only that, but the fish are biting."
    For some reason, neither bit of news seemed at all exciting to Dino.   He just looked even more depressed, if that was possible.
    "What's the matter?" I asked.   "Don't you like fish?"
    "I like fish just fine if they're in the water.   But I don't like catching them, I don't like cleaning them, and I don't like cooking them.   If I want to eat fish, I'll go to a restaurant."
    I thought about asking him when he'd last been to a restaurant, but there was no use in that.   He'd been whenever I'd last forced him out of the house to go with me somewhere.
    "Maybe we won't catch anything," I said.
    He looked hopeful.   "Maybe.   What about Henry J.?"
    "I didn't see him."
    "That doesn't mean he's not here."
    "I know it.   Come on.   We can't stand around like this all day."
    I led the way, and Dino followed.   I didn't have to look back to know that he wasn't happy about it.   Not only were we out of his house, we were right on the water.   In a few seconds, we were going to be within about a foot of it.   I don't think Dino had been this close to Galveston Bay in years.   A lot of years.   No wonder he was uncomfortable.
    And of course the meeting with Big Al wasn't going to be as much fun as a lot of other things we could have been doing.
    Having elective hernia surgery, for instance.
    There was a strong breeze, and the water had slopped up on the concrete, making it slick.   I had on my running shoes, so I didn't think I was in much danger of slipping.   Dino was also wearing running shoes, though I don't think he ever went running.   Free weights, an ab machine, and a treadmill were more his style.
    Although the walk was crowded, there was plenty of space around Big Al.   People were showing their respect, or it might have been fear.
    I wasn't afraid, or if I was, I wasn't going to show it.   I walked to within a couple of yards of the sagging chair and said, "This looks like a good spot, Dino."
    Big Al, who had been staring out at the water, turned to look at me.
    "Well, well.   Truman Smith.   And Dino.   I'd heard you were into fishing lately, Tru, but I didn't know Dino cared for water sports."
    It was easy to see where Big Al got her nickname.   She was nothing if not big.   And impressive.   I don't know whether she'd ever entered competitive body-building contests, but she certainly could have.   The muscles of her arms and legs looked like they were composed of bricks with the edges rounded off, and she looked strong enough to bend a crowbar the way I might bend a paperclip.
    She was wearing a pair of cut-off jeans and a tight white T-shirt with a picture of a black automatic pistol held in a two-handed grip.   Under the pistol were the words "I Don't Dial 9-1-1."   To tell the truth, I didn't think she'd need the pistol.   Bare hands would be enough defense for her.
    She was wearing a white visor that allowed a view of her unnaturally curly hair, cut short and clinging close to her head in tight, graying ringlets.   She