Chapter 3-Atlantic Ocean/Charleston Harbor

Lacy was exhausted from rowing by the time she reached the docks. She looked and felt as if she had really just survived a brutal shark attack.

Slowly climbing out of the boat, she began limping to her car. She fumbled around for her keys and finally opened the car door. With her cell phone she made the all important call to the police.

As soon as she hung up the phone, she sauntered around to the back of the car and popped the trunk. She had to make sure there was no blood, hair, or anything else which could incriminate her as the killer of Rob Grossman.

Of course there was nothing for her to be concerned about. The triple wrapping of Rob's body in garbage bags had been enough. The police would never suspect Lacy of anything.

It helped her cas that the sheriff was coming out to meet her. Sheriff Watson had always helped Lacy through difficult times. He was a good friend of her father's and was like a second dad to her. The only disagreement they had ever had was about her father's "accident."

The sirens and blue lights approaching Lacy lit up the night sky and danced off the water bringing Lacy back to the present. She had to collect herself, or did she?

Maybe looking a little lost would help my case.

She had been daydreaming about her father's funeral. It was amazing how many people had actually shown up to say goodbye to her daddy. In her mind, she could see the faces of everyone as if it had happened yesterday. She still had a lot of good business relationships with some of those people. Of course, there were those there that day who she couldn't stand. How could they, the low life backstabbers, show up at her father's funeral? Fortunately, one of those people would be completely devoured by sharks.

Sheriff Watson's car was the first to pull up. The car had barely come to a complete stop when he jumped out of it, jogging up to Lacy.

Watson was a round man, but funny and as laid back a person as you would ever want to meet. He grew up in the low country of South Carolina with Lacy's father, but he never outgrew his southern charm like her father had. Watson had gone off to Furman, while her daddy went to Clemson.

Lacy knew he would do all he could to help her in this, another terrible situation.

"Lacy, my goodness gracious child, why do you keep goin' out and findin' trouble?"

"I don't," stammered Lacy, physically upset. "Trouble just seems to find me like a black cat creeping 'round the front porch."

She broke down and fell into the sheriff's arms. He embraced her and pulled her close to him, just like he would have if she were his own daughter. She felt safe and secure around him, like the world couldn't touch her.

There were times growing up when she wished Sheriff Watson had been her father, but then she would realize the life she wanted wouldn't have been available to her if he had been. Being pregnant right out of high school, which could have been a possibility, was not in her dreams. So she had to settle for Watson being her godfather. Of course, she still cared deeply for him.

However, it didn't matter how much she loved hime for always being there, there were certain things about which she didn't mind lying to him. At times, she thought he knew everything she had done in her life, and he was letting her get away with it because of who she was, and who her father was.

That isn't the case and you know it. He doesn't suspect you of a thing. You're this dainty, precious child to him. You can get away with murder around him.

Lacy began to tell Sheriff Watson what had happened, and he looked at her with those understanding brown, doe eyes. She felt certain he would believe every aspect of her story.

Chapter 2-Charleston, SC/Middle of the Atlantic

Lacy turned on the ignition in her car and pulled out of the driveway. As she proceeded up the battery and over to the marina where her fleet of shrimp boats sat, she admired the view of the lights shimmering out in Charleston Harbor. The harbor looked peaceful and calm in the humid night air. She felt at peace as she pulled her car into the marina and drove down toward the docks.

She had practically grown up on these docks; her dad had taken her on the boats since she was just a baby. She maneuvered her car right down beside one of the boats. She pressed the trunk button, got out of the car, and went to fetch what was waiting inside.

Rob's body had not shifted very much on the way down to the docks. She was thankful for this, because he was still right next to the ledge of the car. He had been a bitch to load into the car, hopefully getting him out would be a lot easier.

She started with his shoulders and grabbed some of the plastic from the garbage bags he was still wrapped up in. His upper body was much heavier than his lower body so dragging his feet was going to be much easier. She was glad she was still taking "Pumping Iron" classes at the Y.
She finally got his body out of the car and drug it onto the first boat, "The Gogetter." Lacy flopped Rob's corpse down onto the deck; she then went into the cabin and started the engine.

What a beautiful night for a sail. I hope the sharks are hungry.

As she eased the boat out of the dock, she remembered something her mom had told her just days before she passed away.

"Lacy, you're going to run this business someday for your father. Just make sure no man ever hurts you or takes advantage of you. If they try, you just kill them with your good looks and southern charm."

That's exactly what Lacy did. She was a killer southern belle.

The boat was cruising at about seven knots on its way out into the Atlantic. She walked out on the deck and pulled part of Rob's body out of the trash bags in which she had wrapped him up. She rolled the body over to the edge of the boat and let the blood from his head fall in the water. The blood began dripping steadily from the hole between Rob's eyes.

Soon this water will be swimming with sharks.

Lacy went back into the cabin and brought the boat to a halt. She took some pieces of shrimp which had been left on the boat and started tossing them into the water.

This chum should attract the sharks even more.

Within ten minutes, sharks were circling around the boat, especially near the spot where Rob's head was still gushing blood. His hands had already been nibbled on by the beasts as they were skimming along the surface of the water. She uncovered the rest of his body and dumped him into the middle of the shark infested ocean.

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Lacy lowered the emergency row boat into the water and climbed in. She pushed away from the shrimp boat and began rowing ashore. Now she was bleeding badly. Her legs were gnashed and gnawed from what appeared to be shark bites.

As she crawled into the row boat she had let the sharks nibble at her legs. Luckily, the smaller sharks had arrived first, and there was no way they could have done too much damage. Her legs looked as if she had shaved with a jagged edge razor. She knew this was going to suffice for her scheme.

The shrimp boat's motor had been made to look like it wouldn't work. Lacy had taken out the starting mechanism and placed it in Rob's pants. Her plan was coming together perfectly. It would look as if Rob had taken her out on one of her shrimp boars, tried to do some business with her, and made the motor stop working so they were stranded. That's when Rob had suggested they go skinny dipping in the ocean. Then the sharks had shown up and Rob had sacrificed himself to save Lacy.

She knew her plan would work. It had to. Her plans had always worked, always. There was not one thing she had ever failed to do when she put her mind to it, and this was definitely not going to be an exception.

Chapter 1-Charleston, SC

Lacy Davis loved the warm, humid summers of Charleston, South Carolina; she always had and always would. The only thing that bugged her in the summer were all the damned tourists, especially the Yankee tourists who over ran her city and complained about how hot it was. She never understood why people would go on vacation somewhere they know it's going to be hot, and then complain the whole time.

If ya can't stand the heat, get out of the South, she would always think to herself.

The six o'clock summer sun was beating down on the red Mercedes convertible as it motored down the Battery at 45 miles an hour. Lacy could feel people staring at her because she was going so fast in this little, crowded downtown area of Charleston. She was headed home from a long day's work and couldn't wait to get into her old colonial style house right off the Battery. Her feet were killing her and she just wanted to take off her shoes and relax for a little while.

As she pulled up to her large, white columned house, Lacy took in a deep breath. This house had been in her family since before the Civil War, and she knew what a sense of pride it gave her.

In her rearview mirror Lacy noticed an old man and his wife were walking their dog. The Boston Terrier seemd to be more or less walking them. The dog pulled and tugged at the leash it was on as the old man and woman walked slowly down the sidewalk. Lacy could overhear their conversation and decided to have some fun.

"Harold, when we get home we need to...."

As Lacy slowly eased her long legs out of the car, Harold, the old man, began to ignore everything else his wife had to say. Lacy knew he had caught a glimpse of her beautiful legs coming out of the Mercedes. Slowly she extended her legs out of the car; stretching them as far as she could, making her short skirt rise slightly higher as she rose from her car. The black skirt and white blouse accented her beautifully tanned skin, and her long flowing brown hair. Lacy knew this man had to be twice her age, if not older. She could tell he was mesmerized by the sight of her.

The southern charm in her swagger had worked once again. Over the little bit of traffic passing by her home she could hear the wife and husband begin to argue over his oggling of her.

"Harold? Harold, are you listening to me?"

"Yes, dear. I'll take care of that when we get back home."
"Take care of what? You don't even know what you're agreeing to. Quit staring and wipe that droll off of your mouth!"

"What are you talking about? I was just in a daze."

"Yeah, staring at that young girl!"

"What, I can't look anymore?"

As the old couple passed on bye, continuing their bickering, Lacy reached back in her car for her belongings. She couldn't help but smirk about the effect she had on men; she used it to her advantage as much as possible. She was a shrewd business woman and she knew how to get her way.

Walking up the steps to her front door she began fumbling with her keys. The wind blew stiffly across the harbor and up her front porch causing her long brown hair to blow into her face and frustrate her.

"Damn it! Where is the fucking house key? Ahh, I can't see anything. I need to get this mess cut. Shit! Finally, there it is."

She put the key into the lock and turned it. There was something wrong, she could sense it. As she opened the door slowly and walked down the hard wood hallway, she smelled a strange scent in the air. She stepped into the first room on the left which she used as a business/computer room.

Sniffing the air like a dog looking for a place to do its business, she smelled the scent of cologne which a college boyfriend of hers had worn. She meandered back down the hallway into the spacious living room in the middle of the house. When she turned the corner she saw the back of a man's head sitting on the couch. His dark black hair was freshly cut and styled. She recognized who it was instantly.

"Rob," she said, "how nice of you to drop by so unexpectedly."

"Lacy?" Rob asked in his New York accent. " I didn't think you was eva going to get home. I've been waitin' here for an hour."

"Now darlin', you know I have a business to run."

"Yeah, I know, that's why I'm here."
"Not again," Lacy expoused in a huff. "Rob, how many times do I have to tell you and your dad that I am not going to sell my company to y'all? This business is my life, just like it was my dad's. I promised him I would keep it going, and that's exactly what I intend to do. I am not going to let other investors come in and try and tell me what I need to do."

Lacy was irritated that Rob was in her house. She knew Lucille. her family's housekeeper, had let him in because of who he was. He had been Lacy's longtime college boyfriend until she realized he was just trying to get into her pants for her father's business. She knew his dad wanted to buy out Lacy's business because of competition. However, Lacy wasn't stupid, Clemson had taught her well; pleasure and business never mixed well.

Pleasure was something of which Rob and Lacy had had a lot. Their sex life had been incredible and Lacy still pined for Rob at times, but she knew she couldn't let her guard down for a minute around him.

"Rob, I'm parched. I'm gonna go to the kitchen and get some sweet tea. Do you want anything?"

"Sure, I'll have a glass of tea with ya. Do you have any unsweetened?"

"Not sure." Ugh! How could anyone drink unsweetened iced tea? Lacy thought to herself.

As she went to the kitchen she found a note on the fridge:

Lacy,

Sorry to have to let him in, but I figured you wouldn't mind. I made some fresh tea and put it in the fridge. There is also some unsweetened teac in there as well, for your Yankee friend. I'll see you tomorrow.

It was signed by Lucille. She always thinks of everything. I wouldn't know what to do without her!

Lacy went to the cabinets and pulled down two glassed and filled them with ice. After pouring the tea, she began walking back into the den. As she walked, Lacy began to devise a plan.

"Here you go. One glass of unsweetened iced tea. Blah!!"

"Thanks, Lace. It's been a long time."

"Not long enough. I thought you would have quit trying to get me to sell this business by now. But, I guess I should've known better. You never did give up that easily."

"Not when it's something I want real bad."

Lacy walked across the room to her stereo and pushed the power button. The music blasted out of the speakers. Culture Club's "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me" filled the silence. Lacy adjusted the volume a bit so she wouldn't have to yell at Rob. As she made her way over in front of the fireplace, she began softly swaying to the music. Once she was in front of the mantle she turned and faced Rob again.

"Damn, you still look good," admired Rob from in front of the couch.

"So, you like what you see? I've tried to keep in shape since college, but it is a bitch."

"Well, I'm here to tell ya, ya've done a fine, I mean, an F-I-N-E, fine job."

Lacy started unbuttoning a couple of buttons on her blouse. Well, if he wants a show, I'll give him a show. She began gyrating slowly to the music and turned around away from Rob and gripped the mantle in front of her.

Rob relaxed and fell softly onto the couch. He had seen this show before, but it had been a while. As he sunk into the couch, his mouth almost dropped at what he was seeing. He was beginning to think this was his lucky day.

Boy George was crooning, "Do you really wanna hurt me/ Do you really wanna make me cry..."

Lacy reached up on the mantle, still shaking her ass for Rob, and slipped her hand behind a picture frame of her and her parents, which was taken when she was about ten. She felt something cold and metallic behind the frame. She slipped her hands on it and spun around quickly.

A silent puff of air was heard. Then the chaos and madness began. Rob felt a warm sensation coming from his pants, but he also felt excruciating pain.

"Oh, my God! You fucking bitch! I'm gonna kill...."

Another puff of air as Rob was screaming in pain. A hole appeared in the middle of Rob's forehead and blood began oozing out of it. Rob fell silent. The chaos was over almost as soon as it began.

Lacy ran to the kitchen and grabbed a whole container of garbage bags. The blood would soon be soaked through to the cushion of the couch and she couldn't have that. She could wash the fabric, but she couldn't wash the cushion.

She pulled off ten bags and laid them on the floor. Then she rolled Rob off the couch and onto the bags. Slowly she began wrapping him up in the trash bags.