Storm Surge Read Online Free

kindness of this friend’s heart that shaved a year off a Federal sentence.
What’s the game?”
    Blake handed
her back a looseleaf binder. It had previously
belonged to the man who was now at the bottom of the ocean.
    She flipped
through the binder idly, then stopped at one page.
“Well,” she said, “I tell you one thing I am gonna need.”
    “Already
thought of it. Not
a problem,” Blake said.
    “You planned
this ahead, I guess.”
    Blake nodded.
“I laid some groundwork early.”
    “So where’s
this going down?”
    “A little
place called Pass Island.”
    “You know it’s
about to get hit by a hurricane, right?”
    “Yeah.”
    “And
that’s…let me guess…not a problem.”
    “Nope,” Blake
said. “It’s an opportunity.”
    “Right.” Karen Montrose said. “I suppose I
don’t have a lot of choice here.” She raised a hand. “Don’t bother. I know the
answer.”
     

CHAPTER FIVE
     
     Max gave
the last screw one final turn, then leaned back slightly
on the ladder. He stuck the screwdriver in his pocket and grasped the metal
storm shutter fastened over the window. He tried to shake it. The shutter held
fast, locked down by the heavy screws at each corner. He glanced at the house’s
other windows, armored and sealed now by identical dark-green metal covers.
There were a lot of them. It was a lot of house.
    Max took a
bandanna out of his back pocket and mopped his brow. The wind on the island had
died to a few weak puffs, and the heat was oppressive, maddening. At least it
was less humid. He climbed down the ladder. He was at the bottom when he heard
the voice behind him.
    “That looks
great. Thanks.”
    He whirled,
one hand going to the screwdriver stuck in his pocket. It was only the woman,
standing behind him. The smile on her face died at the look in his eyes. She
stepped back, her own eyes widening slightly. Max took a deep breath and
relaxed.
    “Sorry,” the
woman said uncertainly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
    “No,” Max
said. “It’s okay.” He gestured up at the storm shutters. “That’s the last of
them. Should hold.”
    “Thanks so
much,” the woman said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She sighed
theatrically. “Brian’s absolutely useless at this sort of thing.”
    Brian was the
husband, Max remembered. He was some kind of big shot in banking. Or insurance. Max was a little fuzzy on which one. She was
Kathy. “With a K,” she’d told him, even though there was no reason to. She’d
been letting little disparaging comments about her husband drop ever since
she’d come by the marina and asked if he’d like to come by the house and earn a
few extra bucks putting up their storm shutters. He’d noticed her before, of
course. It was hard not to. She had a classically beautiful face, high cheekboned and framed by a waterfall of lustrous
raven-black hair. Her body was long and lean, without an ounce of fat on it as
far as anyone could tell. As much time as she spent sunning herself in the
skimpiest of swimwear on the deck of the husband’s forty foot cruiser or on the
sundeck of their three story “beach cottage,” Max would have noticed. Right
now, for instance, she was dressed in a red bikini, covered only nominally by a
light silk robe. She saw the way he was looking at her and smiled, ever so
slightly. Max had looked at her that way before, when she’d come by the marina.
It seemed to make her happy.
    “It’s hot out
here,” she said. “You must be parched. Would you like to come in for some
water? Or maybe lemonade?” Max looked toward the
driveway. “Brian won’t be back for hours,” she said.
    Max hesitated.
Nothing good would come of this in the long term. If they were caught, the best
he could expect would be to lose his job. Taking Kathy-with-a-K up on her offer
was a terrible idea. But Max had been living down here, in this strange place,
alone, for almost a year. Most of his isolation had been by choice. But what
she was