Shark's Tooth

Blackbeard chewed his omelet, or eggs, whatever.  He knew Patty would get to the point, knew she was demanding to be asked, didn’t want to give her the satisfaction.

“All right, so why does a shark come into your living room every Thursday at eight?” Course, Terry, did not have Blackbeard’s patience.

“Yours too.”  She looked at Terry like he was simple.  “TV show. ‘Shark,’ the detective.  You know, the one that wears sharkskin suits, hands out shark’s teeth for business cards, all that sort of crap.  I hate that every detective on TV has to have a gimmick.  They ought to make one like you boys, detectives that do nothing but sit on their butts eating.”

Blackbeard interrupted before this got out of hand.  “So they’re shooting that around here?  Thought that was set in LA?  Not the Lower Alabama LA, the Los Angeles one.”

“Well of course it’s set in LA.  No, you know Jeremy Speller, the actor that plays Shark?  He’s out in Rosemary Beach on vacation, out in the big Nautilus house between Rosemary Beach and that new Alys Beach.  Yo’s been hanging around him, thinking it’s both true love and her ticket out.  I bet they did it.”

Terry leaned back and pointed a finger at Patty.  “So how come you know more about this than we do?”





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