Fish Out of Water by Ros Baxter Read Free Book Online Page A

forgot that I was trying to be nice so he’d let me borrow his van.
    “Sweet mother, Doug, don’t you remember about my allergy?”
    I had to stop and breathe, because the thought of piscinavores makes my throat do these weird little gulps. I’ve had to invent the seafood allergy to cover my tracks. What annoysme more than anything are the people who claim to be vegetarian, but say they eat fish. Leaving aside the sheer stupidity of the statement – you know, someone claiming to be a vegetarian while also referring to eating an animal – it just makes no sense. Being a piscinavore is like being a cannibal who says “I don’t eat people, only concert pianists and famous painters.” Me, I’m quite happy to eat some clueless old bovine, but fish . Man, fish are sentient beings.
    “Go wash your hands. And rinse y’ freakin’ mouth. There’s Listerine on top. Go now.”
    In Aegira, everyone’s vegetarian, but here on land I eat meat. It’s cool, I’ve looked inside the minds of cows and I can guarantee there’s nothing there. I even went to an abattoir once to check. Even as the poor things were lining up to go into the slaughterhouse, their minds showed up nothing but a picture of a blade of grass and vague feeling of an itch on the rump.
    “Alright, alright,” Doug complained, making for the bathroom. “Although it’s not like I’m going to kiss ya, Sheriff.” He paused, then a dark look spread across that hot face. “Am I?”
    Oh man, he looked good when he got that look in his eye. A hundred delicious memories competed for my attention, and they weren’t all of Doug naked. Not all of them.
    I swallowed and pointed to the bathroom.
    When he got back, I’d recovered enough to try again.
    “Doug,” I began. “I might need your van. Later tonight. Look, it’s only for a few-”
    “Oh no.” He was short. He sounded pretty definite. “No, no, no missy. Not after the Harley. I loved that bike.”
    “Please, Doug,” I asked. “It’s important. I promise I’ll keep it safe.”
    “This anything to do with that dead blonde?”
    This freakin’ place and its freakin’ rumor mill. “No,” I lied smoothly.
    “Right, so that’s a yes,” he said. Then paused. “Compromise?”
    I was already mentally saying no. I never compromise.
    “How ’bout I drive you wherever you need to go?”
    It was my turn to be definite. “No way, baby. I gotta do something solo tonight.”
    “Well, sorry then,” he said, and I could hear the ring of finality in his tone.
    “Doug,” I wheedled. “Don’t make me steal it.”
    “You steal it and I’ll tell your Mom about you and her assistant.”
    Wow, I suddenly developed a whole new respect for his tactics. Dirty, clever. I liked it.
    “Chip?” I was all innocence. “Poor boy’s only nineteen. That’s a terrible implication.”
    He looked right into me. And I could see the tiniest scrap of hurt there. Which was so unfair. It had been eighteen months. And he dumped me . Kind of.
    I made a decision.
    “Okay Doug,” I said firmly. “You can drive. But you gotta stay in the car. I’m maybe gonna have to put a large object in the back and you are not to ask me about it.”
    “Sure,” he agreed easily. “So where we taking the stiff once we swipe it?”

Chapter Three
    Kool Mints and Larceny
    I tiptoed out and shut the door gently behind me. Not actually sure why I was tiptoeing.
    Something about the gravity of the moment, and what I was about to do.
    Billy would be long gone from the morgue by now, but I wasn’t planning some kind of confrontation. I was doing a job and leaving. As quickly and, hopefully, painlessly as possible.
    I’d changed into sneakers and jeans, and I was packing my Glock 17 in the back of my pants. I remembered my instructor back in the city saying that the good news was that the Glock is easy to shoot, and the bad news was that the Glock is easy to shoot. The short, light trigger pull is vulnerable to accidental discharge, so