Chapter fourteen. The brown Pelican was crowded for a Thursday evening and Pat felt a pang of guilt as she drove past

The Brown Pelican was crowded for a Thursday evening and Pat felt a pang of guilt as she drove past. She hardly ever missed a Thursday. She and Davey usually paired up in pool. It was a good escape, but mostly, it gave them all a chance to act like idiots after tequila shots. But not tonight. She was tired. After she'd left Rockport, she'd driven to Corpus to pick up yesterday's film and drop off what she'd shot that morning. Then, on her way back to the island, she'd caught the sunset over Corpus Christi Bay and she couldn't resist. Like a good sunrise, the sunset called to her and she'd grabbed her camera and used her Jeep as a tripod and snapped off several shots before it dipped out of sight, leaving a beautiful rosy glow to the sky.

It had left her feeling melancholy and at the first beach access road, she turned off the highway and drove along the gulf as the color washed from the sky.

Now, she passed The Brown Pelican with only a glance. But she was hungry. Instead of going straight to home, she drove to The Shrimp Shack. She was happy to see Angel still working.

" Hi Angel, " she said and she pulled out a barstool, moving it slightly away from the guy next to her, who appeared to be chain-smoking.

" Hey Pat. Get you a beer? "

" Yep. And dinner, " she said. " To go."

" Usual? "

" Yeah. No crab this time, " she said. " Extra shrimp." She hated the stuffed crab they insisted on including with the seafood platter. She glanced once again at the chain-smoker, then tapped him on the shoulder. " Hey, man, move your cigarette, would you? "

The man glared at her. " The non-smoking section's over there, " he pointed, the cigarette nearly brushing her hair.

" Hey, Johnny, lay off, " Angel said. " Jesus, you're like a chimney over here. I can hardly breathe."

" This is still a smoking bar, ain't it? "

" Oh, move down to the other end. You can second-hand smoke down there without lighting up."

" Damn women, " he muttered but he moved down four stools.

" Thanks, " Pat said. " I was afraid I was going to have to deck him. Who is he, anyway? "

" I don't know. He's been here about a month. Doesn't talk much."

Pat nodded. She dismissed the man and sipped from the draft beer Angel slid in front of her.

" What are you doing here, anyway? It's Thursday."

" Had a busy day. Didn't feel up to The Pelican tonight, " Pat explained. " How's Lannie? " she asked, referred to Angel's lover. Lannie was one of only two women cops in Port Aransas.

" Still as bitchy as ever, " Angel said. " Complains I'm not home enough."

" You're not. Every time I come in here, you're working. Do you ever take off? "

" She's working the night shift now, so I don't mind pulling doubles, " Angel said.

She moved away to refill beer mugs at the end of the bar and Pat watched her. Angel was the first friend she'd made when she moved here and she realized that was still a very short list. Oh, the guys at The Pelican, she'd call them friends. Sort of. Just drinking buddies, really. It wasn't like they shared in each other's lives. She really didn't have that much to share, actually. She lived a rather boring life, all things considered.

Saturday morning found her running silently along the surf, long legs pounding in the soft sand as the first light of dawn cut into the darkness. Her thoughts drifted, moving easily to the shots she'd taken yesterday. She'd returned to five of the nests and shot a full roll at each. She'd even managed to shoot the Curlews without interruption. She would try to hit the other five during the week and hopefully, she'd have enough to submit to the magazine. Then she would meet with Steve Anderson, the guy assigned to the story, and they would write up short articles on each nest. She hoped her field notes would be enough.

When the sun started creeping above the waves, she turned and retraced her steps, her eyes locked on the sun as it rose miraculously out of the surf. Her steps faltered with the beauty of it, yet again. Pinks turned to red, then orange, as the giant orb climbed higher on the horizon. She finally stopped and stared, letting the beauty surround her. When the colors faded, she picked up her pace, racing the last several yards to her front steps.

She stopped on the bottom step and looked up at her old beach house. It needed a paint job, she knew. She had been putting it off. She didn't want the commotion of painters hanging around for days as they painted the relic. But her neighbors would be happy, she suspected. Hers was the shabbiest of all the houses on this stretch.

" Later in the summer, " she said to no one.

She brought her coffee and juice outside and sat, watching the endless procession of waves as they crashed on the surf. The beach was coming alive as other joggers followed her path of earlier. She picked up the stack of prints and shuffled through them, picking out several that she thought would look nice in the brochure. The shots she'd taken of the cardinals had turned out great and she hoped Carly would want to use at least one of them. Actually, there was one she was quite pleased with and she thought it would make a great centerpiece for the Visitor's Center. The male cardinal had been guarding the nest, glaring at Pat, but behind him, four hungry mouths stood wide open, begging for food.

She should really get going. She had no idea what time the big move was taking place and she should have suggested meeting them at Carly's apartment to help load furniture. Well, she assumed they would be making more than one trip anyway.