TREASURE KILLS (Legends of Tsalagee Book 1) by Phil Truman Read Free Book Online

out into the shallow water and pulled the craft a little further up onto the loose rocks. He waded into the thick brush just past the shoreline to find his catch.
    A slenderish woman of indeterminate age wearing jeans, a blue plaid shirt, and a blue corduroy vest sat cross-legged on the ground trying to work the red fishing lure hooks out of the shoulder of her vest. She had dark blonde hair split into two pigtails dangling across her chest and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
    “Hold on! Hold on!” he said bending down to stop her from twisting the hooks. “You don’t want to work them in further.”
    She stopped fooling with the lure and looked up at Punch expecting him to take over the operation with his two free hands and the needle nose pliers. He pulled the lure out with a quick and expert movement, as if from the jaws of a bass.
    “There,” he said, examining his new Balsa Boogie for any damage. Then he remembered what he had done.
    “Sorry,” he said, clearly embarrassed. But not so much with snagging this woman, as he was for his inept cast.
    The woman stood up and looked at him. At first she had fire in her eyes and Punch thought she aimed to lay into him. He had it coming with a dang fool cast like he done, so he was prepared to take it, and he would apologize some more, if he had to.
    She started to say something, but her expression shifted as she looked up at him. Her face colored pink like maybe she had become a little overheated. One corner of her mouth twitched funny-like. It puzzled Punch. He could handle women mad and yelling at him. He had gotten used to that. But this gal... it wasn’t like she was afraid. It was different from all the looks he had ever gotten from females.
    “Well, I... it’s... I mean, I don’t guess you did it on purpose,” she said and looked out toward the lake. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat. “Just glad it got me in the vest and not the eye,” she added. She kept looking at him and then looking away quickly. Then she laughed a little nervous or crazy... but not quite like that guy at Bass Pro.
    “My name is Sunny Griggs,” she said. She stuck out her right hand.
    “Sunny Griggs. Oh, yeah, I know you,” Punch said with relief, thinking he wasn’t going to get woman-yelled-at again. “You lived with the Buchanans. I heard you’d come back to town.” He took her hand in a shake without putting a man-squeeze to it. “I’m Gale Roundstep. Most folks around here call me Punch.” Then he got real serious.
    “Hey, I’m real sorry about Buck,” he said, looking at the ground. “Hard thing to figger. I liked Buck. He was a good man. And Lorene was an awful fine woman. Jo Lynn... that’s my ex. She always thought a lot of her.”
    It bothered Sunny that the man... Punch, as he called himself, referred to Lorene in the past tense, but most people did nowadays. Even though she was still breathing and walking around, most who knew her considered her gone.
    Did he say, “Ex?” The question came to the surface of her thoughts. But she ignored it. She looked at the man again, this time with a more... well, observant eye. He wasn’t what you’d call a small man; not so short, but not so tall either; broad at the shoulders, with beefy arms and chest. His stomach wasn’t exactly flat and looked to have the potential for expansion. She guessed him to be about six feet or so, but his width masked his height somewhat. “Husky” would be a good word to describe his physique. She guessed his age to be somewhere in his forties. Although his first impression repelled her, something about him excited her.
    Punch looked around trying to think of something to change the subject. “You out here fishin’?” he asked. But he didn’t see any gear, only a burlap bag with a few lumps in it.
    “Oh, no, I don’t fish. Fish are a part of Mother God’s order. I wouldn’t do anything to harm them. Besides, I don’t eat meat. I was out here looking