Caribbean Rescue (Coastal Fury Book 16), Matt Lincoln [best book recommendations .txt] 📗

threatening to burst out. As entertaining as it was to watch Olivia give the captain a verbal beatdown, I figured we probably shouldn’t push our luck.

As we hurried down the hall and toward the exit, I noticed that the lanky officer Turner had dragged with him looked immensely more relaxed, as if he was relieved that Olivia had refused. I could only imagine what he’d asked the officer to do. Probably spy on our investigation for him as he’d intended with Keys.

“I’ll have my director call and see what he can do about having him transported somewhere else,” Olivia sighed as we stepped outside. The sun was beginning to set, and the island air was a lot cooler now. “I’d rather not have to deal with that idiot Turner the next time we have to speak with him, and I have a feeling getting a call from the FBI will scare him more than a call from an agency no one’s ever heard of. No offense.”

“None taken,” Holm replied. “We prefer to keep a low profile, anyway.”

“You think we’ll need to interrogate him again?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she muttered in response. “I think Holm was right about him hiding something. Plus, I just don’t trust Turner not to lose him. He seemed awfully eager to keep us away from him, don’t you think?”

“You think he’s in league with the traffickers?” I asked, genuinely curious to hear her thoughts.

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “Or maybe he just wants to avoid pissing off the wrong people, the same way that Kenneth did. Either way, I’d rather not leave our suspect in his inept hands for any longer than we have to.”

“Can’t argue with that,” I chuckled. “Anyway, it’s getting late. Why don’t we hold off on the antique store owner until tomorrow? You said you wanted to try some of the local food, right?”

“Yes, I do!” Olivia’s eyes suddenly went wide with excitement. “I’m starving. I haven’t had anything to eat since this morning.”

“Yeah, I could eat too,” I remarked as I suddenly realized just how hungry I was.

“Let me just make that phone call real quick,” she muttered as she stepped away from us.

“You in too?” I turned to look at Holm.

“Eh, I think I’m going to sit this one out.” Holm snickered. “I’m not so keen on the idea of being a third wheel for the rest of the night. You two have been making eyes at each other since we were on the airplane. It’s almost nauseating, to be honest.”

“Shut up,” I said as I punched him lightly on the shoulder, though I was secretly grateful he was choosing to duck out.

“Don’t have too much fun, though,” he teased. “We’ve still got work tomorrow.”

“Weren’t you leaving?” I asked him.

“I’m gone, I’m gone,” he snorted with laughter as he turned to head back to the hotel on his own.

“Where’s he going?” Olivia asked as she returned.

“He wasn’t feeling up to walking around,” I lied smoothly. “I think he was tired after the crazy day we’ve had.”

“Aw, that’s too bad,” she replied. I was pleased to hear that she didn’t sound disappointed about it at all. “Should we head back to that shark place? I’m curious about what it’ll taste like.”

“Sounds good to me.” I smiled as we began to head back toward the part of the beach where we’d first spotted the woman selling fried shark. Now that we weren’t on our way to speak to a witness, I could actually take the time to enjoy the scenery better. It looked nice even as the sun was going down, maybe even better, as now everything seemed to glow as the sunset case long, golden rays across the town.

It surprised me to find that the beach was still fairly crowded, despite the shooting that had taken place earlier. It seemed as though everything was back to business as usual. It was a little unnerving, but I decided to shelve the issue for another time. Right now, I wanted to enjoy my time with Olivia.

“Shoot, looks like it’s gone,” Olivia sighed as we reached the spot where the woman had been set up earlier. The stand was gone, and in its place was a completely different cart. The man working the spot now appeared to be selling what looked like some kind of fish sandwiches. They looked good, but it wasn’t nearly as exciting or novel.

“That’s a shame,” I replied, honestly a little disappointed. “It’s not every day you get a chance to eat shark.”

“Well, let’s just keep looking,” she suggested. “It looks like a lot of other stuff is available, too.”

All along the boardwalk were restaurants, bars, pop-up stands, and little carts manned by people selling not only food but little trinkets and souvenirs as well.

“I wonder what a ‘conch fritter’ is,” I mumbled out loud as I read the name off a large sign affixed to the top of a permanent outdoor eatery.

“Let’s find out,” Olivia replied before hooking her arm around mine and leading me toward the small restaurant. The building itself was small, with a large window set into the wall facing the street. All around the building were tables and chairs where patrons could eat after putting their order in at the window.

“What’ll you have?” the man standing at the order window asked us with a toothy grin.

Whatever conch fritters were, we’d be in for a treat if they tasted half as amazing as the smells wafting out of this place. I could see people cooking on large stoves just behind the man at the window. Steam was rising up from the hot surfaces with an enticing sizzle, and I could feel the heat as it billowed through the window onto us in deliciously scented waves.

“We’ll have some conch fritters,” Olivia answered before looking back up at the sign posted above the window. “Oh, and some grilled lobster, please.”

“Coming right up!” the man replied before yelling something back into the kitchen. He turned back to us after someone