Five O'Clock Somewhere

By KJ Black

Daniel Tolliver just got engaged. His beautiful fiancee, Liz is everything he could ever want in a woman. With her at his side, Dan sees a bright future for himself as a junior corporate attorney. Liz knows all the right people and his future success seems assured.
Too soon, Dan discovers Liz comes with a warning label, one he chooses to ignore. What starts out as a vacation of a lifetime, one meant to make lasting memories, turns deadly when Liz goes missing in beautiful Key West, Florida. Dan is overnight thrust into a no-win situation, dealing with uncooperative law enforcement and a cloud of suspicion on himself after she vanishes.
Pursued by a vengeful drug lord and dirty Federal agents, Dan has to find a way out of the horrible situation he finds himself in. He finds out all he believed was a lie.Now the drug lord is after him, wanting his missing millions back. His Liz had secrets before she disappeared. Those secrets are coming for him now.
With time running out and nothing else to lose, Dan decides he has to find Liz if she still lives, or run the rest of his life.
With the help of a surly Latin veteran cop and a smart-mouthed barmaid named, Genie, Dan pursues the woman he once loved to Key West, trying to find her before those who are after her do.
But Liz isn't who Dan thinks she is. She's far worse than he can ever imagine, making him question everything he ever believed about himself.
Only one thing is sure, it's Five O'Clock Somewhere.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Karolyn Cairns
• Release date: Jul 7, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310481123

KJ Black

KJ Black is a new pen name for Karolyn Cairns, romance writer. She lives in Florida with her husband and is currently working under both names. Look for her future works.

Book preview

Five O’Clock Somewhere

By KJ Black

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Acknowledgments

About The Author

More Books By This Author

Copyright by Karolyn Cairns 2014

Smashwords Edition

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Dedications-To my husband and fellow conspirator, Adam D. Black

Chapter One

2006 Georgetown, Maryland

Hey, did you happen to see the most beautiful girl in the world?

Music drifted from the front room, static making the song go in and out, distorting it. Steam filled up the small dingy bathroom. The shower shut off suddenly. The shower curtain whipped back as a woman got out and toweled off.

Cool, assessing eyes stared hard at the image in the cracked mirror. She surveyed the pale blonde dye job with a critical glance. She wiped the steam from the mirror, a towel wrapped around her body.

The old Charlie Rich song made her hum under her breath. She hated the song, but its lyrics seemed almost ironic at that moment. She reached for the scissors on the sink, hands shaking as she began cutting.

And if you did…was she cryin’… cryin’

Hell no, she didn’t cry. What was the point? The girl in the song might cry.

Girls like her just sucked it up. They dealt with all kinds of hellish, unspeakable bullshit nobody should ever have to deal with. Girls like her didn’t feel much at all, numb to anything good or bad.

Not feeling anything was protection from ever being hurt. The wall of pain inside of her was erected so high, she couldn’t see over it anymore, blocking out the sun and the clouds.

And won’t you tell her, that I love her

The song went back to the chorus, making her grit her teeth, feeling more alone at that moment, and more unloved than any one person could. She closed her eyes tightly, wishing to reopen them and discover the last twenty-four hours never happened. To feel safe once more.

Being safe was for girls like the one in the song, she decided, combing her hair through, freeing it of tangles. Somebody cared enough about the girl in the song to go looking for her. Nobody cared about the one staring back at her in the mirror. Well, except for Kay.

Trembling hands held the scissors, hacking away at the hair, letting the pale, yellowish pieces fall into the sink. She snipped and trimmed her hair all the way to her shoulders, tilting her head this way and that. She regarded her image carefully when she was done. It was the best she could do.

She set down the scissors, bundling up the remaining hair in the sink, placing it in a plastic bag and tossing it into the waste basket. She blew dry her hair and curled it to make it appear more even in places, applying enough make-up to cover the dark smudges under her eyes.

Sleep was slow to come the night before, adrenaline keeping her tossing and turning until the early morning hours. Exhaustion took over at four a.m., panic waking her at eleven. She didn’t hear Kay get up and leave early that morning.

Eyes slid to the digital clock on the nightstand, suspicious by nature, wondering where Kay went so early, hoping she came back soon, and without the police.

She called her Kay, but that was just a nickname. They argued all night over what needed to be done, what had to happen, looking at every possible angle until they were both mentally exhausted. They finally withdrew to their corners, hers on the couch, and Kay to her bedroom.

Gingerly, she stood as she styled her hair; feeling the spongy softness underneath her feet, knowing only a thin piece of plywood covered the gaping hole. The board was the only thing keeping her from falling through the rotting floor.

Decades old, the pink commode was missing a lid. The tank behind it ran constantly like a waterfall. The inside of the toilet was stained from hard water. It was dark, ugly, and forever brown.

The pink flowered shower curtain was kept closed at all times, if only to hide the dark, moldy tiles behind it. The matching tub would never come clean of the mineral stain anymore, no matter how hard it was scrubbed.

Kay owned the trailer. She didn’t mind any of these defects. She threw a big rug down in here or over there, as if that alone would disguise the fact the trailer was disintegrating around her ears. The decay throughout the rest of the place wasn’t much better.

Most of the electrical outlets were fried. Loose drop ceiling panels sagged or were missing. Wires dangled loosely in places. This or that was jerry-rigged over there. It was a fire trap, for the most part, but Kay would never leave it.

It was given to Kay by her daddy, she told her. She grew up in this cramped tiny pea green-colored trailer out in the middle of the sticks. Letting go of the trailer was like throwing away some precious heirloom. Even if Kay could have afforded to leave and move into town, she wouldn’t.

A door in the hall led to a second bedroom, the interior stacked so high with boxes and bags; it was nearly to the ceiling. It was storage, Kay explained, to excuse her obvious tendency toward hoarding, refusing to part with whatever was heaped and stacked inside to allow her visitor the bedroom. So, the couch it was, her bed while she stayed here.

The ancient appliances inside the kitchen were all harvest gold in color, telling their age. The stove worked when it wanted to, which was never. Only the broiler in the oven heated up, but Kay didn’t mind. She didn’t bake. The refrigerator hummed loudly. It froze anything shoved too far to the back. They rarely used anything but the small cheap microwave on the counter.

The furniture was old. It was unmatched, ratty, and in poor shape, stains and cigarette burns all over the cushions. Kay just threw crochet blankets over them to hide all of that, trying to make it look nice. Why buy new, she would say? Why fix it if it wasn’t broken?

By any standard, Kay was far from organized. The cluttered counters were covered with overlapping layers of unread mail, unpaid bills, and old take-out boxes. The sink was always full of dishes yet to be washed. The trash seemed to always over-flow; sitting until the smell indicated it had to be taken out.

Kay wasn’t much of a housekeeper. The trailer always smelled musty within, as if every fungal spore in the area took up residence underneath it. The linoleum floors were cracked, faded, and worn, never seeing a good mopping in years. A dark film covered the windows, a combination of nicotine and dust, so thick you could hardly see outside.

The drapes were heavy and dark, always kept shut up tight, so as not to reveal the ugliness within. Kay refused to see it all as it really was, content in her dark cluttered world.

Dust went undisturbed in places so long; it was an effort to avoid sneezing. The carpet looked to be dark brown. The old pictures on the walls, taken years before, would reveal it was actually light beige. Kay just covered it up with a rug, thinking no one could see what was underneath.

Kay didn’t like to see what was underneath anything. She didn’t like to see what was really there. She didn’t really see her visitor as she should. Nothing would ever cover that up.

The visitor knew Kay was a little crazy. Just a little bit. She was unstable, just enough to make her question trusting her when she left here. The extreme mood swings she observed made her recognize her own life-long battle with the chemical imbalance.

Kay had moments of extreme highs. She would be filled with energy, tackling some of the greater issues inside the trailer. She would pay an overdue water bill here or put money on the outstanding electric bill there. She cut coupons by the hundreds, going to the Save-a-Lot in town, only to come back with twenty cans of sweet peas. They were on sale; she would say. Nobody ever ate the peas.

The lows kept Kay in bed for days, paralyzed. She slept to avoid everything beyond the dark, paneled door of her bedroom. She cried a lot during these bouts, refusing to talk about why she cried, just crying harder. Bottles of pills on her bedside table solved the problem, keeping her quiet until the spell, as she called it, passed.

Kay didn’t really have boyfriends anymore, not since she was a girl, she confided with a raspy laugh. Her eyes seemed far away when she talked about her past, her voice catching when she spoke of better times.

Kay was in her early forties, still attractive, if not for the hard veneer of bitterness that lined her face. She sometimes didn’t come home after her shift at the bar, enjoying a casual one-night stand now and again. It was a cycle that pacified her for a time, waiting for calls that never came, laughing it off until the next time.

Still, Kay made up for all of her faults with the biggest heart, and the best of intentions when she took the visitor in. The girl owed her more than money could ever repay. She owed Kay for saving her life. Things like that had no price tag, could never have a true value.

Carefully, the girl removed the silver studded nose ring glimmering in her right nostril. She grabbed cotton balls. She removed the chipped black nail polish from her short, stubby nails.

She was sitting on the edge of the open toilet seat. She painted her nails over with a soft shell pink, hiding the ugly yellow-stained nail beds underneath.

And won’t you tell her… that I love her

She glanced up at the driver’s license taped to the mirror once more. She avoided looking too closely at the smiling girl in the photo. She ripped the ID down when she was done, waving her hands in front of her until her nails dried.

She went out and shut off the radio before another sappy song came on. Out here in the middle of nowhere, it was the only station they could get to come in clearly.

Kay liked the quiet. She didn’t like the noise in town, preferring the solitude out here. And the trailer was paid for, she argued, to excuse her continued presence, even if it was a bit rundown. The girl didn’t argue it, grateful for any place to crash.

She rummaged through the suitcases on the bed, knowing as she did that none of the clothes inside would fit. The wardrobe within the suitcases was three sizes too big. She laughed as she looked at the girlish, preppy clothes inside, more suited for a high school girl than someone who just graduated from college.

None of it was her style. She wouldn’t be caught dead—her eyes grew bleak suddenly. Someone already had—in those same cheap, trendy clothes. Death didn’t have any sense of style. It came for you no matter how badly you were dressed.

The dark thoughts swirling within her mind made her shiver. She shook her head to avoid thinking about it. There was no point in feeling the guilt. It wouldn’t change anything. Nothing she could do about it. Not her fault, she thought, angry to still linger on it. It was too late to go back. The past met up with the present, if only by chance. It changed everything for anyone unlucky enough to be there.

Kay was there when the men came into the bar last night. She hid in the cooler. She saw it all. She was helping Carl, the manager, close up for the night.

The girl didn’t question what would have happened had those men found Kay hiding in the cooler that night. She would have been dragged away with the other two people, never to be seen again.

Kay had the sense to hide, to not make a sound, watching in shock as the four men with guns arrived. They grabbed Carl and the college girl, forcing them to leave with them. The girl dropped her purse under her bar stool, whimpering as a gun was shoved in her face.

She knew why the men took Carl. Why they took the girl wasn’t clear yet. Was it just because she was there? Would they be satisfied they had the woman they were looking for? She only had bits and pieces of the night to draw a conclusion. Some things made sense, others did not. The things they knew for certain were few.

Carl was hitting on some college girl at the end of the bar, sending her free drinks all night. The college girl was getting drunker the longer she sat there. What was she even doing there? She wasn’t the type of young woman who came in there. She wasn’t Carl’s type either. He dated strippers and cocktail waitresses. This girl was dressed like most of the college co-eds in town, in skin tight jeans and a flowered blouse. She had an air of superiority that made her avoid direct conversations with the other bar goers.

She had to figure it out. Her plan would fail if she didn’t.

The college girl was alone that night, seen coming in by Kay at eight in the evening. They speculated she must not have felt like joining her friends in town after graduation. Or maybe, she just didn’t want to deal with the crowds at all the local hotspots.

Maybe it was just Carl that brought her to that bar, on that particular night. Perhaps the two were dating? No one would ever know.

It was obvious by the friendly way the college girl greeted Carl when she sat down at the bar that the two knew each other. She called out to him, smiling. It spelled it all out in some ways, but the total message was still unclear.

It was never obvious why the young woman was there, so set apart from the rough biker crowd who were regulars and belonged there. Nothing about the clean-cut college girl belonged there, but remained in place, if only because of the guy behind the bar.

Carl was somewhat of a dirtbag when it came to women. He liked to brag about his conquests to all that would listen. He never said anything about this girl, to anyone. Did that mean she was special to him? Was he finally giving up his bad boy ways?

The pretty college girl would stay until two in the morning. All of the other people staggered out near closing time. She remained, finishing up her drink as she waited. What was she waiting for? What about the cab that was called? That part didn’t fit. If the girl knew Carl, planned to hook up with him later, why did she ask for a cab to be called for her that night?

How did she even get there in the first place? The bar was too far to walk from her college dormitory. She had her own car in the student lot. Why didn’t she drive there? No cab dropped her off. Did a friend drop her there? Would they come forward to say they gave her a ride that night?

The questions remained, hovering, going unanswered.

What was known, the college girl flirted openly with the attractive bar manager all night, teasing him. She disappeared into the ladies restroom to change into the skimpy camisole with the bar’s logo on it. He gifted her with it, daring her to try it on for him.

Kay listened to the college girl brag all night about where she was going now that school was finally behind her. She couldn’t help but remember all that information later when they back-tracked the events of the night.

The college girl looked too much like the other barmaids, they concluded to explain her getting grabbed that night. She sat there wearing the same top as the other waitresses, laughing, and talking to the good-looking, dark-haired man behind the bar. She ignored Kay, who told her that her cab was on the way. The girl was only interested in getting Carl’s attention.

Carl waved Kay away as she went into the coolers to restock the beer at the end of the night, winking at her. The girl was with him; he said and laughed aloud, his dark eyes meeting hers knowingly.

She rolled her eyes when she heard this from Kay, knowing Carl as well as she did. No one was ever with him for long. This one would be there even less.

The college girl’s purpose for lingering there while the bar closed was revealed when Carl returned from the back room. Kay recalled watching them through the glass cooler doors. He leaned over the bar and the two began to kiss. They were whispering when Kay came back.

Was it about meeting up at his place later? Possibly. They wouldn’t ever know what their plans for the evening were, only the way they ended up.

Carl was heard to say he would be free to go within the hour. The girl was content to wait there for him. He took the tills and went into the back to deal with the money and receipts from the night.

They must have been observed by a spotter. He would have walked in right at closing. He probably had a recent photo in his hand. He would have seen the lone girl sitting at the bar. He would have thought the blonde looked similar to her. Kay said the girl looked like she could have been her little sister.

She was a blonde as she had once been, but it was obviously not her natural color. Dark roots peeped out from under the plastic hair-clip. Then, as the spotter watched the pair making out at the bar, he would be sure he had the right woman they were looking for.

He would have recognized the man, certainly. The man was easy enough to identify. He would assume the woman changed her appearance to avoid being found. He left, but he would come back. He wouldn’t be alone.

Chapter Two

The men must have waited outside for the other employees to scatter; headed home or to bottle clubs, or diners that stayed open all night. And they did, hastily, like cockroaches moving onto their next meal, not staying behind to know what happened next.

The men waited in a black SUV with dark-tinted windows. It was reported sitting in the corner of the parking lot by the cab driver. He arrived before closing time to pick up his last fare of the night.

The cab driver said a young Latino man got out of the SUV. He approached the cab driver at the driver’s side window. He tossed the driver a crisp twenty dollar bill for his trouble. He said his friend already got a ride. The cab left the lot after that.

The call for a cab was made by Kay forty minutes prior, for the girl who still sat at the bar. They would call the cab driver back to confirm all of this, forming a clearer picture, wondering if that was how it all went down.

Only one car remained in the lot. It was Carl’s car, a rundown late-model Ford Mustang with Indiana plates. The men must have gotten rid of the car later. It was never found.

It would haunt the girl for the rest of her life to not know what really happened that night. It would precipitate all that would happen sooner, rather than later.

The girl pushed those murky images away; feeling depressed once more to try and piece together what happened the night before, not sure if it formed a true picture or not. It was merely speculation on their parts; put together from what Kay overheard in snatches of conversation and observed during her shift.

Did it even matter? The college girl was gone. Carl was gone. The men who took them were gone. She would be gone very soon too. She wouldn’t risk she was wrong of what she thought happened last night.

Salvaging whatever she could from within the two large suitcases, she dumped bras, t-shirts, and other useful items into another suitcase. The rest of it was dumped into a box and taped shut. She hoped the secrets trapped inside would stay where they were put, stacking the boxes near the door of the bedroom.

Those secrets in the boxes could never be known. The boxes would be tossed into some dumpster in the city where she headed, left behind for the homeless bums to pick through.

A Greyhound bus ticket sat on the bedside table, with a stack of papers she stuffed inside a backpack. She picked up the driver’s license again. She was pleased she looked similar to the female in the picture now. She needed a new ID. One with her face on it, with the name she was now stuck with.

The rickety door to the trailer opened suddenly, creaking shut with a snap. A dark-haired woman entered. It was Kay. She was dressed in loose jeans and a faded flannel shirt. She wore her dark, shoulder-length brown hair back in a barrette in her haste to leave that morning. She held a paper grocery sack in her trembling hands.

Their gazes met from down the hall. The older woman looked shocked, setting the bag down, coming into the bedroom quickly. Kay walked around her, taking in her changed appearance with wide, stunned eyes.

The bus leaves at six, the newly-transformed blonde reminded Kay, seeing the way the older woman’s eyes filled up with tears again. Come on, don’t do this. You know I have to go. We talked about it. The longer I stay, the worse it’s going to get.

I know, I know. Kay sighed, biting her lip and looking away, her expression filling with fear. I’m just scared for you.

The younger woman smiled, meant to dispel her concern. Don’t be scared. You just do everything like we planned, ok? Nobody’s looking for me. I have you to thank. That was quick thinking last night, she said brightly and saw Kay tremble. You did the right thing. I’ll let you know when I’m safe.

Kay sniffled, regarding her with another tearful look. No, you just keep running. Don’t worry about calling me when you get to where you’re going. We can’t risk them finding you again.

The blonde raised a pale, dyed eyebrow and laughed aloud. They think I’m dead! They aren’t going to find me. Stop it! We planned this. The only thing we need to worry about now is if the parents freak out and call the cops. Did you send those text messages like I asked you?

Kay nodded worriedly, taking the phone out of her pocket. They just keep calling. They won’t stop. I texted them and told them everything is fine. I feel bad.

Her companion stiffened, turning angry, her face flushed. You just keep sending those texts, and whatever you do, don’t answer that phone! Tell them it got damaged. Say it doesn’t receive calls. Ditch it at the end of next week. I know this is hard for you, but you have to do this for me. Just tell them she’s hanging out with friends. Tell them she decided not to take that job. Tell them she’ll be home soon. We talked about this. If they have any reason to suspect something— She stopped talking suddenly. She didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t have to. They both knew what would happen.

I know. It’s just so awful! I feel so sorry for them. I wish we didn’t have to do this. It just seems so wrong. I can only imagine how they’re going to feel. I can’t help it!

The girl’s lips thinned, tightening in annoyance. You think this is wrong? Really? You were there last night! Now do you see? Do you think those guys gave a shit what they did was wrong? I bet they didn’t listen when she tried to cry and beg her way out of it. And what about Carl? I bet he never got a chance to say anything before— She stopped again, taking pity on the woman, who paled and shook visibly. She said nothing else, seeing Kay’s terrified expression. We’re doing the right thing. I know you’re scared, but this is the only way. We can’t ever tell anybody. Tell me you aren’t going to the police when I leave? They won’t help us! All you’ll do is make those guys come back here. They think I’m dead. That’s the way it has to stay.

How can you be so sure? Kay sighed tiredly and shook her head. It’s all so risky!

All anyone will think is that she took off with her friends. She’s a kid! It’s what they do. Quit worrying. They won’t know shit unless you tell them! You used your ID to buy the bus ticket, right? Nobody is going to find out she ever left here!

What about her car? Kay shook her head, her eyes wide with fear and doubt. What about the car? It’s still parked at the school!

We can’t risk going back to get it. We just have to leave it. It’ll be weeks before anybody finds it. By then, they’ll be looking in the wrong direction.

Kay nodded and retreated. She came back and handed her the grocery bag. It’s all I could get for you. The bar opens at noon. Clifford is going to show up to make the weekly deposit. Just take it. She watched as the younger woman opened the bag, a look of relief flitting across her face. There’s enough in there to get you started. I’m sorry it couldn’t be more. It was a slow week.

She closed the bag, hugging Kay tightly. He’ll think Carl took it. That’s perfect. Just play it the way we planned. He won’t ever suspect you. Just play dumb. Say Carl closed up last night. It’s a good thing Clifford was too cheap to install security cameras. You can do this. Just hold it together, ok?

Kay wiped her tears away with shaky hands, looking around the room at all the boxes and suitcases all over the room. What do I do with all this stuff?

I’ll take it with me. The cops can’t find it. It’ll be weeks before they start looking for her. That buys me some time.

I hope you’re right about all of this. I just can’t forget what I saw last night. I can’t get it out of my mind. If you had seen them. Oh my God! Kay buried her face in her hands, crying quietly.

Yes, she had seen them, only they were never coming for her then, until now. I know it was horrible to see, but the last thing you can do is fall apart on me. I need you to do this. If anybody asks, you left the bar early last night. You say you didn’t feel well. Say it was just before closing time. Nobody saw you before the bar closed. They won’t know you were even there. They won’t know I dropped you off to use the truck last night. Who are they going to ask? Carl is dead! Trust me, he is. I feel horrible about it too. He knew all the risks when he came back here. I warned him to not come back here. Now you see what’s going to happen to me if you tell anyone what you saw?

Kay retreated to the kitchen of the trailer. She opened up the refrigerator to make them something to eat. The blonde’s expression changed subtly to worry as she reflected their conversation. Much depended on the woman staying quiet. She was close to breaking down, not a very good sign.

The girl dressed with care later, wearing the bulky pink Georgetown sweatshirt and jeans. She wore a pink headband, giggling at her own reflection in the mirror. Anybody who remembered her from her former life wouldn’t think it was her now, looking at the smiling, pretty college co-ed who stared back at her.

She cleaned out the small purse. It contained some make-up, a few one dollar bills, some change, and chewing gum. She replaced it all with her own things. She packed the truck outside with her suitcases on the flatbed.

She went behind the trailer and yanked open the green aluminum skirting behind the mobile home, pulling out a large, blue duffel bag hidden underneath the trailer. Kay was unaware of it, inside cooking them dinner. She loaded it on the truck and went back inside, sitting down to have dinner with her friend for the last time.

They said very little to one another during the awkward meal. They dined on crappy spaghetti sauce out of a jar covering rubbery noodles that stuck together. Kay used plain white bread sprinkled with garlic salt toasted in the oven. It was half-burnt. She was a lousy cook. Still, she tried to make a nice meal this last day they would ever see each other again.

It was almost five in the afternoon when she came out into the small, shabby living room. She looked at Kay sitting on the couch. She was watching the news on the small TV, expecting to hear something that wouldn’t be heard for awhile. It’s time to go. We have to get on the road

Kay got up reluctantly from the battered couch. She retrieved her purse and keys off the counter. They left the trailer, getting into the rust-bucket truck out front. The ride to the bus station took nearly thirty minutes.

She got out and stared at Kay, seeing her for the last time, memorizing every detail of her face. The woman took the bus ticket and went inside the station to check her in. Once the bags and boxes were loaded onto the bus, the pair stood back on the sidewalk outside as passengers started getting on.

I’ll never forget what you did for me, the girl said and hugged Kay tightly, feeling her trembling