Crystal Blue (Buck Reilly Adventure Series Book 3) John Cunningham (psychology books to read TXT) 📖

beach before sliding out of the sheer wrap that covered part of her body, leaving only a tiny bikini bottom and top that barely constrained her tanned chest.

A growing drone caused her to hesitate.

The sound grew louder, and a small powerboat rounded the long breakwater near where the Beast was beached.

“Not now,” Avery said.

“They’ll only be here a little while.”

The boat straightened out and followed a line directly toward us before Ray cut the engine and the boat slid quietly onto the sand. Lenny jumped off the bow, pulled the wood boat ashore, grunting and cussing under his breath as he did so.

“Damn, boy, all you bastards must weigh a thousand pounds!” he said. “If I hurt my back, the people in Key West won’t have the confidence to vote my ass onto the City Council.”

Boom-Boom, his head still encased in gauze, stepped over the side into the water and pushed the remnants of a joint against his lips. The tip of it glowed red before he spit it into the surf. Diego, his right arm in a sling, followed—helped out by Zachary Ober, who for the first time since I’d met him was wearing something other than his EMT uniform. His gold tooth caught the sunlight like a message from the heavens. Ray Floyd stumbled over the rows of seats to the front of the boat, climbed out, picked up the rope Lenny had dropped onto the sand, and tied it to a pygmy palm on the edge of the beach.

“Why are they here again?” Avery said.

Her voice was devoid of whining or bitchiness, and I thought yet again that she was just what the doctor had ordered.

“It has to do with some history on Tortola,” I said.

All five of my friends, old and new, were smiling as they stomped up the beach shoulder to shoulder, like a team of some sort.

“Let’s talk about that buried treasure!” Diego slapped his good hand against Zachary Ober’s back. “Hah!”

I laughed out loud. For the first time in years I was actually excited to hear those words.

“I’ll pour the margaritas,” Avery said.

“Sounds like a plan.”

The End

The Ballad of Buck Reilly

Cunningham/Hoggatt

TALK IN: This is the Ballad of Buck Reilly. You may have heard about him, or at least his past, because today, well, he’s just trying to stay under the radar. But back in the day, he was a global treasure hunter, a regular for-profit Indiana Jones. The Wall Street Journal even proclaimed him King Buck. Of course, that was before he lost his ass…

Buck Reilly’s Just a man, Just like you and me

Gave up everything he owned to the economy

Uncle Sam took his money, lost his parents and his girl

He woke up sleeping alone one day at the south end of the world

Now he lives in the La Concha, down on Duval Street

Flying charter and salvage, to keep him on his feet

No longer burning money, just trying to stay afloat

Taking anybody anywhere in his antique flying boat

No questions asked

Especially if you pay with cash

Bahamas, Key West,

Cuba and all the rest

Of the Caribbean island chain

Buck Reilly’s still trying,

Living and dying

To break a couple rules along the way

Buck Reilly, oh Buck Reilly

Fly me away

His airplane’s name is Betty; she’s been crashed before

Got a red float on her starboard wing and a green one on her port

Like constant channel markers, leading home or to his soul

Always headed for that treasure, that only Buck knows

No questions asked

He may be broke but hey, he’s having a blast

Bahamas, Key West,

Cuba and all the rest

Of the Caribbean island chain

Buck Reilly’s still trying,

Living and dying

To break a couple rules along the way

Buck Reilly, oh Buck Reilly

Fly me away

He only wants three things in life, that’s true

A plane to fly, a treasure to find and a woman to rescue…

Bahamas, Key West,

Cuba and all the rest

Of the Caribbean island chain

Buck Reilly’s still trying,

Living and dying

To make up his own rules along the way

Buck Reilly, oh Buck Reilly

Fly me away

About the Author

JOHN H. CUNNINGHAM has a background as eclectic as Buck himself. With over 20 years of experience in commercial real estate, he has also served as the editor of The Pro Review, a magazine for professional photographers. John lives in Virginia with his wife, two daughters, two Portuguese Water Dogs, a Havanese, a cat, his 22 year-old African Grey parrot and a few horses scattered around the countryside. He spends much of his time traveling. His choices for the places and plots that populate the Buck Reilly series include many of the things he loves: Key West, Cuba, the Bahamas, Caribbean settings, along with amphibious aircraft, colorful characters, and stories that concern themselves with the same tensions and issues that affect all of our lives.

John’s website can be viewed at www.jhcunningham.com.

Table of Contents

My Inner Voice is on Mute

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With Friends Like These…

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Next Time Skip the Reunion

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Adios to Jost

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