Free TURTLE DOVE (Alton Rhode Mysteries Book 7) by Lawrence de Maria Page A

not have a problem with that. He had limited exposure to private investigators and was interested in what kind of cases I’d been involved in.
    “We don’t get that kind of excitement down here,” he said, ruefully, at one point. “Just as well, I suppose. I have trouble attracting a good staff. I mean, I have some smart kids, but they are just punching a ticket before they move on to something better. Even turnover at the top was a problem, until I got here. I was a cop in Rocky Mount when this job opened up and I said what the hell. I could use some peace and quiet. My wife has some health problems. The ocean is good for her. The pay is good. Been chief seven years now. I think that’s a record.”
    Fred was a decent golfer, and I managed not to embarrass myself, but we still lost $20 each, when he missed a 10-foot par putt on 18.
    I teased him about it, and asked if I could make a citizen’s arrest, but I couldn’t hold his miss against him. It was a tough downhill putt with a severe break. Only luck would have gotten it in the cup at our skill level. At least he was on the green with a chance to tie the match. My ball was in the pond fronting the green, where it made an impressive splash just short of making landfall, much to the amusement of people watching from the terrace outside the club bar.
    We all shook hands, exchanged a few final good-natured insults and headed into the bar. The place was crowded and lively, but we were able to snag a table away from the TV’s, from which various sports were blaring. A waitress walked over and took our orders. I asked for some munchies and she brought bowls of peanuts back with our bourbons and scotches. The first round went quickly and Charlie signaled the waitress for more drinks and peanuts. From there it was off to the races, and the winnings soon disappeared. Then we all chipped in some more money to keep the party going.
    “Thank God they only allow golf carts on Bald Head,” I commented.
    Fred laughed.
    “Would you believe I’ve cited people for driving drunk in a cart?”
    I was having a very good time. You aren’t always lucky enough to get put into a foursome with people you can enjoy. It’s silly to waste the experience.
    I was almost finished my third drink when Alexandra Nidus and the women she’d been playing walked into the bar. She spotted me and said something to her friends and then came over to our table.
    “How did you play, Mr. Rhode?’
    “It’s Alton, please. And I managed not to kill myself.”
    “He’s being modest, Sandy,” Fred said. “He carried me most of the match.”
    “Until I hit it in the water. But it was fun. How about you?”
    “I had a good round. I shot a 77.”
    I wasn’t surprised. In the few minutes I watched her on the course it was obvious she could play. Tall and lanky, with an athletic swing, she would clean most men’s clocks.
    “I’m glad you are enjoying the island. It has a lot to offer.”
    “Sure does. I even got in some fishing yesterday with your friend, Vole.”
    “He’s hardly my friend. But, yes, I know he took you out. How did you come to find him?”
    She did not seem too pleased. I thought I detected some tension in her voice. I also noticed my companions exchanging glances.
    “I was driving past his boat and spotted him. He’d just lost a charter, so I caught him at a good time. We only went out for half a day, but we saw plenty of action until the sharks came around. We even caught one of them. Big fellow. Vole knows his stuff. At least on the water.”
    “Yes, I’ve heard that,” Nidus said. “I don’t really know that side of him. Well, nice to see you. When are you leaving?”
    “Tomorrow.”
    “I hope you have a safe trip.”
    With that she rejoined her friends.
    “She said ‘I don’t really know that side of him’,” Jim said. “That’s rich. I hear she knows all sides of him.”
    “What are you talking about?” I asked.
    “Nothing,” Fred said, with a cautionary