Queen Bee (Lowcountry Tales #12) - Dorothea Benton Frank Page 0,93

moment, I felt overwhelmed, as though something terrible was all around me, something as dark as death itself. I must have gasped.

“You okay?” Ted said.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just sometimes I get these weird premonitions and I have to figure out what they mean.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, Lord, if I start telling you this stuff you’re going to say, well, now I know why she’s not married!”

“No, I won’t! I love all that spiritual business.”

“Sometimes it’s useful, but most of the time it’s just ether garbage, floating around.”

“What was on your radar just then?”

“It was pretty dark, I mean dark like death, and this overwhelming feeling of, well, pressure on my chest and not being able to breathe.”

“How awful.”

“Must be a full moon,” I said.

“Yes, tonight is the peak. It’s also when all the nuts come out of the woodwork and do crazy stuff.”

“Like what? Howl?”

“Exactly. I wouldn’t be surprised if your new neighbor was outside spinning around and howling at midnight.”

“Let me just tell you, Ted. That woman is bat shit crazy, sorry for the foul language.”

Ted threw his head back and laughed.

“I love that you’re apologizing for saying a bad word! And, by the way, I think she’s probably delusional.”

I did not tell him that I had seen my bees leaving her house. That they had been in her house and that she didn’t make it up. Sharon was not someone I wanted anyone to hold in any kind of esteem.

“I don’t know if she’s delusional, but she does other things that border on cruelty.”

“Really? Such as?”

“She’s made Archie’s boys miserable in every way she can.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Because she’s incredibly selfish and puts herself ahead of everyone. And she never wanted kids.”

“Whoo-hoo! I touched a nerve here, didn’t I?”

“Ted, did you know Carin? Archie’s deceased wife?”

“I didn’t know her, but I knew of her. I mean, I remember that she was very pretty and she loved her family. She was always at the oyster roast and she decorated her golf cart with the boys for the Fourth of July parade. Her Halloween house was a favorite stop on the island. You know, that sort of thing.”

“Yes, she did all those things, but Carin was also the most loving mother I have ever seen. The loss to these boys is so horrible. And this Sharon is Halloween every day of the year.”

“That’s too bad for the boys. Poor little guys. Give me an example.”

Then I thought it wasn’t good to talk about Sharon like this. “Listen, I could tell you a pile of stories about Sharon, but it won’t change anything.”

“It might,” he said.

“It would just be hearsay,” I said. “But it wouldn’t hurt anybody if the Sullivan’s Island Police Force kept an eye on her.”

“I will make a note of that.”

We pulled into the parking lot of the Shem Creek Bar and Grill and got out of the car.

“I love this place,” I said as I crunched along the gravel. “Best hush puppies ever.”

“I could eat a truckload of them, that’s for sure. But I’m partial to those little bitty crab cakes they make.”

“Love them, too! And the oysters! I don’t know where they come from, maybe the May River, but oh, man, I love them on the half shell. Do you love oysters? And clams?”

“I do!” Ted said. He stopped and held me at an arm’s length. “Holly Jensen?”

“What? What did I say?”

“Nothing. You’re just a breath of fresh air,” Ted said. “That’s all.”

“Oh. Gosh. Thanks!”

We had to wait a few minutes for a table, but then we were seated in the back room over the dock. The restaurant was bustling, as it always was. A waiter with a tray loaded with platters of fried seafood passed and suddenly, I was ravenous.

We were looking at the menu and there were so many great choices, I couldn’t decide.

“If I don’t get some food right now I’m going to start crying,” I said and then looked up at him. Ted was staring at me. “Not really.”

“It’s okay. My stomach is growling like an idiot and I’m starving, too.”

“It’s the smell. There is nothing on this planet better than the smell of fried shrimp that were swimming this morning.”

“Except for a perfectly grilled steak,” he said. “I know red meat’s bad for you, but oh, momma, there’s nothing better than a big old bone-in ribeye.”

He had said, oh, momma. Really? Oh, momma? He was definitely a nerd like me. I started smiling and thought, Wow, I like him a lot.

“You know,

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