by Mark Stone
My phone started to ring on my dashboard, vibrating against the hard plastic and doing a little dance as it shook. I reached for it quickly, using my free hand to take the second turn. My chest tightened, hoping it was Jules, praying that she might be calling to tell me she had taken care of the bastard who was inside her house. Hell, if anyone could have done it, it would have been a woman as kickass and fearless as Jules had always been.
The third turn found my eyes wide and sweat pouring down my face. It wasn’t the heat or even the mugginess, though Florida had plenty of both. I was used to that, though. I spent most of my time on the beach, after all. What I didn't spend most of my time doing, though, was racing against the clock, hoping against hope that one of the people I cared about most in the world wasn’t already dead.
Like a beautiful mirage in the distance, Jules’s house appeared. As I tore down the road on my way to it, I couldn’t help but remember this one specific day. I was at that house. Jules and Nate’s parents were still alive then, and their grandfather lived with them too. I couldn’t have been over fifteen, and Jules was probably twelve or thirteen at the time, though I’d always kind of seen her as much younger than us.
I was pushing her on the big tire swing that I saw now still hung from the back yard’s lone tree. It was a simple thing, the sort of act I did every day when I used to spend my afternoons there. On this day, though, instead of just laughing and throwing her head back the way she normally did, Jules pushed her feet out and stopped herself.
Before I could say anything, the girl turned back to me and planted a kiss squarely on my lips. When I asked her why she did it, she told me that she loved me and that she would love me forever. Then she slid out of the tire swing and ran away. Years later, she told me that she had been lying about that. She said that all of her friends were making fun of her because she still hadn’t had her first kiss and she wanted to shut them all up.
As I pulled into the driveway of the house, I wasn’t really sure why it was that memory I was thinking about.
Screeching to a halt, I noticed that the front door of the house was open. More than that, Jules’s car still sat in her driveway. My heart lurched in my chest. The phone call I’d heard led me to believe that whoever was attacking Jules had been hiding in the house. The fact that the door was open meant that either Jules had tried to get out or someone had taken her out, and the fact that her car was still in the driveway told me that if she wasn’t in the house, she hadn’t been removed of her own volition.
Pushing the door open, I ran around the car to the trunk. I left in such a hurry back there, not even bothering to tell Rachel that I wasn’t coming back in, that I didn’t get anything to arm myself with. I mean, it wasn’t like I carried guns with me or anything, so the most I could do without stopping to pick up a pistol, knife, or even baseball bat was pop the trunk and grab the black crowbar that came with my rickety jack set. It wasn’t much, and it certainly wouldn’t hold up against a bullet, but if I managed to get the drop on whoever was in here, I might be able to clock him good enough to put him on his ass before he saw me.
Leaving the trunk open as not to make any noise, I rushed to the front door trying to be as quiet as possible. Peeking through the doorway, I saw that the living room was a mess. The entire place looked like a wrecking ball had run through it. Lamps were shattered, there was a hole in the far wall, and the coffee table lay in splinters on the floor.
Suddenly, I heard a ruckus coming from upstairs. As I walked through the doorway, Jules came bounding down the stairs, rolling as she fell over and over again until she was finally deposited, unconscious, on the floor.
“Jules!” I screamed instinctively.
Running to her, I checked her vitals to see that her pulse was good and she was still breathing. Then, looking up, I saw the person standing at the top of the stairs. He was the same bastard I’d seen on the beach, the one who ran away from me when the others went down, the one I had let get away.
And he was holding the biggest axe I had ever seen.
Looking down at my small little crowbar looking thing, I began to think that I was really, really outmatched.
And I didn’t even have the element of surprise.
32
Looking up at the man at the top of the staircase, my fight or flight instinct kicked in. There was no choice, of course. The only running a lifeguard ever does is toward a problem. Besides, even if running away was something I could have lived with, even if it didn’t go against every fiber of my being, I still had Jules to think about. She was hurt, she was unconscious, and she was at the mercy of this monster. I was the only thing standing between him and his finishing what he started, and I’d die long before I allowed him to kill her.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, surprised at how low and gruff my voice sounded. My heart was pounding, my mind was racing, and I was wondering just how I was going to beat an axe-wielding maniac with a second-rate crowbar. Still, none of that was obvious in the way I spoke, in the way my hands stayed steady, in the determined glare in my eyes. This might have been adrenaline or it might have just been my sense of duty. Either way, I wasn't letting this dude get anything over on me.
“It’s a job,” the guy said, twisting the axe in his hand. As he did, I saw a small marking on his wrist. It was a c-sharp, a musical note. Instantly, my mind flashed back to something Gina had told me when we first met. This marking, it was one of the only things she saw about the man who broke into her house the first night all of this started for her. This was the person who tried to kill Gina that night. He might have been the person who actually did kill Gina the night she was with Brick.
Still, knowing that didn’t tell me everything. In fact, it didn’t really tell me anything. This dude might have been the person who killed Gina, but why? I didn’t know who this man was, I didn’t know what his connection to Gina was, and I had no idea what would possess him to attempt to commit murder over and over again until he got it done. Plus, he said this was a job, and that led to a couple of other questions as well.
“Doesn’t seem like a great job, my man,” I said, tightening my grip on the wrench. “There’s gotta be an easier way to make a dollar.”
“Who said this is about making a dollar”?” he asked. “There are other reasons to take jobs, though I’ll admit, making money gets harder when lifeguards beat the hell out of your crew and take your product.”
“The police took your product,” I spat. “And I guess that’s a chance you take when you decide to peddle drugs on a family beach.” I shook my head. “That didn’t have anything to do with Gina, though, and it sure as hell doesn’t have anything to do with Jules. So, what’s your game here, friend?”
“If I were your friend, you’d know better than to think I’d answer that question,” he said. “But since I’m about to chop the both of you in half, I guess it couldn’t hurt. I’m doing what I’ve got to in order to save myself.” His axe moved up, pointing at Jules, still lying on the floor. “I don’t have anything against this chick. Hell, she’s cute. I’d hit that for sure.”
My stomach turned at the way the man said that, like Jules was some piece of meat or an inanimate object that someone could just own. I’d have punched him in the face if I’d seen him at a bar if we were under normal circumstances. This was about as far away from normal circumstances as you could get. Because of that, I decided to ignore it for now and focus on more pressing matters.
“Then why do it?” I asked.
“Like I said, I gotta get out of this mess,” he said. “This is the only thing that crazy bitch cares about. I gotta kill her, and I gotta kill anybody who gets in my way. See, I don’t have anything against you, either, except for busting me on the beach and getting me into this in the first place.”
My mind worked overtime, wheels turning furiously, as I took in everything he was saying. Finally, I started to understand. This guy had been with the other man on the beach, the one who tried to kill me,
the one who looked like he didn’t want to do it. More than that, I’d have bet money that the third man on the beach that night, the one I knocked out, was one of the people in the room when the camera blew up, and now, the last one was here with Jules. But why? Why attack Jules when I was what they wanted?
Unless I wasn’t what they wanted.
Finally, it clocked into place. Jules had just left my place when the first man came in to try to kill me. She was also supposed to be in the building when the camera exploded. These people weren’t trying to kill me. They were trying to kill Jules, but why?
“Whatever,” the man said. “I’m tired of this.”
Without another word, he launched the axe at me. It spun through the air, flying toward me like some kind of mythical, mystical weapon. The sight of it was like oncoming headlights, and it was almost enough to transfix me and keep me still. I didn’t want to die, though, so I dropped to the ground an instant before the axe would have plunged itself into my face. The axe hit the door frame behind me, sticking into the wall.
I figured that since he’d rid himself of the axe, I might have a leg up now. As I looked back up, standing, I saw why I was wrong. The sonofabitch must have had a knife on him somewhere because he had it in hand now, running down the steps toward me.
“Dammit,” I muttered, knowing I couldn’t move too much. Jules was right here, still unconscious, still helpless. I was pinned here, unable to move too much for fear of letting this creep hurt Jules.
I had seconds to act, maybe a single second. Instantly, my training and expertise kicked in. I thought about this like it was water, like both of us were wading through it. The force with which this guy was moving down the stairs was like a wave, a strong force pushing him forward. The thing about waves, though, is that they’re almost always stronger than you think, and if you’re not careful, they can sweep you up and get them into trouble. Trouble was exactly what I needed.
Dropping my shoulder, I leapt up the stairs, colliding with his legs and sending him flipping over my back. The force with which the top half of his body was still moving was enough to send him to the bottom of the stairs. Turning quickly, I raised the crowbar, ready to bring it down onto the guy’s head. But there was no need to.
Jules must have woken up while I wasn’t looking. She had the man’s arm twisted and pulled so far back that I was surprised it hadn’t torn in two. More than that, her foot was pressed flat against his neck, causing his face to go as red as a setting sun.
Suddenly, sirens filled the air. The cops were here.
“Jules,” I said breathlessly.
“I’m okay,” she said, reading my mind.
Looking past her and through the open door, I saw the first of the police cars come to a stop in the yard.
“Good,” I said. “Because I have to go.” I nodded firmly. “I know who is behind this.”
33
I walked under the pier, and though this still wasn’t over, it felt like I was back at home. This sand, this ocean, this beach . . . it was where I belonged. This was my habitat. It was where I felt strongest. It was where I felt safest, and the fact that this woman had decided to come in here and try to change all of that was enough to get me to see red.
She was right there, exactly where I thought she would be. When I deduced that it was her who was behind all of this, I also figured this was where I could find her, cleaning up the last of her loose ends.
“Abby,” I said, swallowing hard as I walked over to her.
The police detective didn’t seem surprised to see me as she turned, running a hand through her hair and offering me a quick smile that told me she still didn’t know all of this was over. Sure, she’d know that Oscar Rigman, the drug dealer she sent to kill Jules, had failed. I had gone out the back before the police came in, though, and I told Jules not to tell them that I was there quite yet. I needed to be able to get the drop on Abby, and keeping my name away from police chatter about the incident was the only way I would have a chance at that. The way she answered me let me know that, at least for the moment, I had succeeded.
“Danny,” she said. “Come to yell at me some more?”
“That depends on what you’re doing here,” I answered. “You are on my beach, after all.”
“There happens to be a crime scene on your beach,” she said. “I’m doing some investigation. It’s my job.”
“There are a lot of crime scenes on my beach,” I said. “Illegal stuff happens out here every day. It seems to me that seeing as how you’ve already made an arrest with this one, your attention would be better placed elsewhere.”
Her eyebrows arched upward. “I'm the detective, Danny. Why don’t you let me be the judge of where my attention should be?”
“Unless that’s not what you’re actually here for,” I said.
As quickly as her eyebrows had arched up, they went back down, tightening as her eyes narrowed into slits on her face. “And what else would I be doing out here if not looking for evidence?”
“You misunderstand me,” I said. “I have no doubt that you’re out here looking for evidence. It’s just that if you find any, I’m not so sure you’re going to turn it over. I’m thinking you’re out here trying to get rid of it.”
Slowly, Abby’s hand moved toward the gun on her hip.
“How are you going to explain that, exactly?” I asked, shaking my head. “You gonna tell everyone that I’m a murderer too? You gonna paint the entire staff of Shorewatch as killers to hide what you’ve done?”
“I didn’t do anything,” she answered quickly, but her hand froze in place, not daring to move her gun. “Brick killed Gina.”
“We both know that’s not true,” I said. “I’ve known that wasn’t true the instant you tried to sell it to me.” I shook my head. “But I was wrong about who actually had their hand on the trigger. You see, I thought it was Walt. I figured he was such an abusive nightmare that he just couldn’t move past the idea of killing Gina. I was wrong, though. He wasn’t the abusive one. He wasn’t the one who couldn’t move past his sick tendencies.”
“You need to watch yourself, lifeguard!” she shouted. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” I asked. “And won’t everyone else when Oscar Rigman turns on you? He’s going to tell everything, Abby. He’s going to tell them how you offered to overlook his criminal activity if he promised to kill Gina. He’s going to tell them how you extended that offer to the people in his clique, the ones I took out on the beach. He’s going to tell them how you wanted Gina dead, and then he’s going to tell them how he killed her under duress right here where we’re standing now. Isn’t that right?”
“I will kill you right here, Danny,” she growled. “Walk away!”
“If you were going to kill me, you’d have done it already,” I said. “You know you couldn’t sell that, just like you know that if any evidence that Oscar was here is found, you’ll be screwed. That’s why you’re here, trying to dig up evidence and toss it.” I shook my head again. “You know, I had it all backward. I thought your brother was crazy, that he was nice to these women to their face and then wrote them awful, horrible letters when he was away. But he wasn’t, was he? Those letters were from you. I wasn’t sure why you would do that until I remembered what you told me at the mayor’s party. You said that growing up the way you two did messed you up. It bonded you. It was just you and him against the world. You couldn’t move past that, could you? To you, it was still like it was you and him against the world, and some woman didn’t fit into that narrative. You didn’t want to share your brother. You didn’t—”
“She was a whore!” Abby screamed. “She slept with his best friend, for God’s sake, and he still wanted to take her back.” She stepped toward me quickly, her eyes filling with tears. “We went through so much. I gave my entire life to him, for him, and he was going to let her turn him into some dirty little secret? He was going to let her make him feel ashamed of himself and wh
ere he came from. Do you have any idea how hard I worked to make sure that wouldn’t happen? I raised him to be a good man, a respectable man. My brother could walk into every room and hold his head high. I wasn’t going to let her change that about him. She didn’t understand him. She didn’t understand where we came from or how hard it was. She couldn’t. She waltzed around like she owned the world, never having to work for anything, never having to worry about anything. She was characterless. She was a vapid joke, and that’s what she wanted to turn him into, but I wouldn’t let it happen. He was mine! He is mine!”
“And what about Jules?” I asked, my hands balling so hard into fists that I was surprised they didn’t compress into diamonds.
“She didn’t understand him either,” Abby said, waving it off. “She was a nuisance. They all are. We don’t need anyone. I knew that after I got married, after it failed. Just like always, the only people we can trust are each other. I’m going to protect him for the rest of my life.” She pulled the gun from its holster. “And I’m not going to let you change that either.”
My heart sped up, but I had an ace in the hole and it was time I played it. “You sure you can explain that?” I asked, raising my left hand, which was the signal.
“I’ll think of something,” she said, pointing the gun at my chest.
“It had better be a doozy,” Riley said, stepping out from behind one of the pier’s legs. He had a phone in one of his hands recording everything that had happened and a gun in the other pointed at the woman.
“What can I say?” I asked, shrugging as Abby took it all in. The look on her face said that she knew it was over. “Guess I brought a plus-one again.”
34
I knocked on the bedroom door though it was already ajar. I had been in this place a thousand times if I had been here once. Still, something about this day, about this time, felt completely different.