Shore to Please

by Annette Mardis

  “What? Are you sure?”

  “I don’t see his truck anywhere.”

  Steven rolled out of bed and went to the window to have a look. When he didn’t spot the pickup, he started gathering his stuff and advised Jane to do the same.

  “We’re leaving, the sooner the better,” Steven told her. “I don’t trust him not to come back.”

  They were on the road within minutes and drove south for about a half hour until they came across another cheap motel that at least had a working phone in the room. Several tense days passed before Steven ventured outside to retrieve something from his car and found a foreboding note taped to the driver’s side rearview mirror. So they tossed their belongings into their vehicles again and sped about twenty miles farther south, seeking anonymity in an even grungier room with stained carpeting, lumpy pillows, and paper-thin bath towels.

  Their patience frayed from wondering whether Chase would track them down again, they emerged from a nearby drugstore several days later to find four slashed tires and shoe-sized dents in Steven’s prized BMW convertible.

  “Please, baby, please don’t call the police,” Jane, half hysterical, begged him when his eyes narrowed, his face reddened, and he reached for his cell phone. “I don’t doubt for a minute Chase will shoot us and dump our bodies in an alligator-infested lake like his note said.”

  Although Steven felt like his head might explode any second, he tamped down his anger and pulled her trembling body against his. He rubbed her back as her tears dampened his shirt, and then he kissed the top of her head.

  “Honey, we have to report this,” he murmured in her ear. “We can’t keep running forever.”

  She pulled away and stared at Steven in horror. “Oh God, oh God, oh God, I don’t want to die!”

  “And you think I do? Calm down before you make yourself sick.” He ran his hands up and down her arms in a clumsy effort to comfort her. “We’ll get a restraining order against him if we have to.”

  “That piece of paper won’t stop him from hurting us. Oh God, my life is such a freaking mess. I made a huge mistake getting involved with you. How could I have been so stupid? Well, it’s past time I cut my losses.”

  Steven’s eyes widened as if she’d slapped him. “Are you freaking kidding me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Jane stepped back, the physical distance between them matching the emotional chasm that had just opened up beneath his feet and swallowed him whole. He shouldn’t be surprised. Jane had always been selfish at heart, unlike Tara. Tara…damn it, he couldn’t think about her now.

  “You know exactly what it means.” Jane’s voice dripped with ill will, snapping him back to reality. “You’re not a dim bulb, Steven, so stop acting like one, all right?”

  As he glared at her, Jane pulled out her cell and turned her back on him. He stepped in front of her and grabbed at the phone, but she batted his hand away.

  “Who are you calling?” Steven demanded.

  “My brother. I’ll stay with him tonight, and then I’m getting the hell out of Dodge and not coming back.”

  “That’s crazy. You don’t have any cash, Chase closed your joint bank accounts, and your credit cards are worthless now that he’s removed you as an authorized user. Your brother’s barely getting by, so I wouldn’t count on him to spot you any money.”

  Her big blue eyes turned pleading. Steven’s narrowed. Is she out of her mind?

  “Let me get this straight, Jane. You’re bailing on me after all we’ve been though and you want me to give you the money to do it? Did Chase damage your brain when he backhanded you?”

  Her gaze turned so frosty he half expected to turn into a pillar of ice.

  “It’s your fault my life has turned to shit,” she accused. “You owe me.”

  “My fault? How the hell do you figure that? Last time I checked, I wasn’t in bed alone, screwing myself. Oh wait, maybe I was.”

  “You hounded me until I gave in and slept with you. And then, instead of being satisfied with the way things were, you had to have more, and you kept pushing and pushing. I moved out of my beautiful home for you, and what do you do, you cheap ass jerk-off? You check us into hellhole after hellhole. None of these dumps even has a pool or free Wi-Fi in the rooms.”

  Steven’s patience had hit empty. “I was trying to save my damned money for the furniture, linens, dishes, and other crap we’ll have to buy for our new apartment. Are you forgetting that Tara kicked me out and refused to reimburse me for my share of the stuff we bought together?”

  “I don’t know why you’re letting that selfish witch get away with it. Didn’t I tell you to get tough with her?”

  He shut his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “I can still take her to court. But it’s not like I’ve had a lot of free time between work and sending anonymous notes to those jackasses at that aquarium. And now we’re on the run from your asshole husband.”

  Jane huffed in annoyance. “You know what? This thing between us was supposed to be fun. Do I look like I’m having fun? You haven’t even touched me since I left Chase. It’s like we’re an old married couple or something. What happened to the romance, the excitement? I think all I ever was to you was forbidden fruit.”

  That pissed Steven off so much he wanted to shake the colored contacts out of her eyes and the veneers off her teeth.

  “That son of a bitch beat the hell out of us not that long ago and you’re complaining because we haven’t had sex!” His loud declaration caused a silver-haired woman headed into the drugstore to stop and stare. When Steven shouted, “Mind your own business,” she scurried through the automatic doors.

  “Damn it, lower your voice,” Jane scolded. “The last thing we need is for someone to call the police.”

  “You’re nuts, you know that?”

  He turned and stalked away, taking only a half-dozen steps before she screeched, “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

  “Anywhere you’re not,” he shouted over his shoulder.

  “How am I supposed to get back to the motel? It’s at least a mile. You expect me to walk in this heat and these heels? Get your ass back here right now and get us a cab.”

  Steven whirled around and marched back to where she stood scowling and tapping her foot on the pavement.

  “Call your own damned cab,” he snarled. “I’ve had enough of your bullshit.”

  “You know I don’t have any cash.”

  “That’s your problem.”

  “Fine, asshole, be that way.” He turned to leave again, but she wasn’t through. “You’re a sandwich shy of a full picnic basket, you know that? You’re leaving your car here? What kind of an empty-brained move is that?”

  “It’s not like anybody can steal it with four flat tires. I’ll call a tow truck later.”

  “Suppose someone reports it?”

  He shrugged his shoulders, and her expression hardened further, if that was possible.

  “So you really don’t care if the cops come, they question Chase about damaging your car, infuriating him, and then he comes after you? Or worse, me?”

  Steven smirked and shook his head. “You really are a piece of work, aren’t you? I should kick my own ass for losing a woman like Tara because of the likes of you. As soon as you get back to the motel, I want you to gather your crap and hit the bricks. I’m done.”

  He started walking again, and this time he made it about fifty feet before she shrieked at him. He ignored her and never broke stride as he continued down the sidewalk.

  * * * *

  Steven drew back the drapes to see Jane, shoes in hand, standing outside their room, banging on the door. When he let her in, she cursed him like a longshoreman as he stood with his arms crossed and an impassive expression on his face. She gathered her luggage and stomped out to her car. Steven ran out after her when he realized the money clip he’d set on the nightstand was gone. At first she denied taking it, but after he threatened to call the police, she too
k the clip out of her pocket and handed it to him.

  She smiled, but Steven recognized the calculating glint in her eyes.

  “You’ve got quite a bit of money there,” Jane wheedled. “Can’t you even spare twenty bucks to help me out?”

  “Why should I after the hateful way you talked to me?”

  She flashed another smile that was more like a smirk as she trailed her fingers down his chest to the zipper of his jeans—and then squeezed him so hard through the denim that he yelped and stumbled out of her reach.

  “A real man would take responsibility for a woman he’s been fu—”

  “Okay, fine.” He peeled off two twenties and tossed them through the open door of her car, where they landed on the driver’s seat. Then, acting on a hunch, he ducked inside and searched under the dashboard until he found a GPS vehicle tracker. He held it up and shook it at her.

  “This is why Chase keeps finding us. God only knows how long it’s been in there.” He dropped the device onto the asphalt and smashed it beneath his shoe. “Consider that payment for services rendered. Good luck and good riddance.”

  Renewed anger raced across her face and she aimed her knee at his crotch, but he was ready for her this time.

  “Try to hurt me again and I’ll take back my money and confiscate your keys.”

  “I’ll tell the cops you tried to steal my car and held me here against my will.”

  “Go right ahead. I’d love to fill them in on everything that’s happened.”

  Jane hurled insults at him as she hopped into her car. And then she sped off like the hounds of hell were on her bumper. Steven let out a loud sigh of relief. He’d begun to have doubts about her even before the altercation with her loose cannon of a husband but hadn’t wanted to admit he’d been such a poor judge of character. With any luck at all, he’d never have to deal with Jane or that asswipe she’d married again.

  After going back inside his room, Steven pulled a local phone book out of the nightstand and settled onto the bed to make arrangements for four new tires. He considered calling a cab to take him to another motel but decided that was a waste of money. Hadn’t Chase extracted revenge by damaging the BMW? And won’t he see that Jane’s car is gone and figure we took off again?

  An unexpected and unwelcome visitor late that night nearly made Steven soil his boxer shorts and shattered his false sense of security. He awoke from a restless sleep to pounding so loud and persistent he expected the door to come crashing open any minute. Besides, he already knew who it was. How could I have thought I’d be safe here? Stupid, stupid, stupid!

  “Open up, pecker breath, or I’ll break this door in.” Bam, bam, bam. “I mean it, nutbag. Don’t be such a pussy.” Thump, thump, thump. Chase had switched to kicking the cheap hollow-core wooden door. Then he rattled the knob and pounded some more.

  Steven was about to call 911 when a siren wailed in the near distance. It sounded like it was headed his way. Police, ambulance, or fire truck, he didn’t care as long as it sent Chase packing.

  “This isn’t over, dickhead. I’ll be back, and that whore you’ve been screwing had better be here, too. Or maybe she left you already because your prick’s the size of my pinkie. Wherever she went, she’s not getting away from me, and neither are you.”

  As the siren drew closer, the shouting suddenly stopped. Moments later, Steven heard a car door slam and tires squeal out of the parking lot. He slumped back against the wall and closed his eyes, willing his heart to stop thudding out of his chest. Maybe he needed to take an extended vacation and get out of Central Florida for a while, too.

  Chapter 6

  Two weeks after the note appeared on his door, Flipper drove to the University of Central Florida in Orlando to attend a seminar with visiting dolphin experts from Murdoch University in Perth, Western Australia. The researchers were there to share methods, results, and anecdotes from their studies on natural behaviors and the impacts of human activity—coastal development, tourism, habit degradation—on wild cetaceans. As Flipper and his colleagues were forever explaining to their aquarium guests, the Order Cetacea included some seventy-eight species of whales, dolphins, and porpoises.

  Normally, Flipper would’ve attended the seminar with a small delegation from Gulf Shore Aquarium. But along with its usual day-to-day operations and the three rescued pilot whales in the critical care unit, the staff had the added responsibility of training Trident, the orphaned dolphin calf newly released from rehab and now a permanent resident at the Dolphin Inlet habitat. So Flipper’s boss had asked him to represent GSA at the gathering, take copious notes, and report back to his colleagues.

  The Orlando school had opened the seminar to the public and invited marine science and environmental studies students from elsewhere in the state. They occupied a significant number of seats inside The Venue at UCF. The presentation was also being broadcast live over the Internet.

  Flipper greeted trainers he knew from other aquariums and slipped into a chair. Five rows in front of him, he caught sight of a familiar head of cascading ginger curls. She appeared to be alone, and he sat back and admired her profile as she turned to acknowledge the person who took the seat next to her. Flipper longed to discover what her creamy, lightly freckled skin felt like beneath his stroking fingers. And he couldn’t help imagine pressing his lips, and his body, close to hers and breathing in the fresh floral scent of her shampoo as he…

  He shook his head to clear his blasphemous thoughts. The last thing he needed was to run into Tara Langley out of sight, and hearing, of the jaw-flapping nosy Neils and Nellies he worked with in Gulf Shore. At least there he could discipline himself enough to remember how many complications she presented. But here, more than an hour from home and with nobody to act as a buffer between his libido and her considerable appeal?

  If she so much as smiles at me like she means it, I’m a goner.

  The voice over the microphone announcing the start of the program gave him at least a temporary reprieve from further temptation. The Aussies spoke for nearly four hours, with a brief break, on acoustic monitoring, risk assessment models, foraging behaviors, social structures, disease surveillance, and post-mortem examinations. The topics, while dry to those outside his field, should’ve held Flipper’s interest. But he found his attention waxing and waning as he struggled to block out his awareness of Tara. He alternately cursed her and wished he could sit beside her, their shoulders and knees touching, her breasts rising and falling as she… Damn it!

  She didn’t seem to be having the same difficulty focusing. Her pen moved at a furious pace across her yellow notepad as she filled page after page with scribbled sentences and crude diagrams. That figures, Flipper thought. I’m such a deluded schmuck. The only time I’m on her radar is when she’s plotting how to put me and my friends in the unemployment line.

  When the presentation finally ended, Tara joined the large knot of people who’d surrounded the Aussies in hopes of gleaning additional insights, exchanging observations, or perhaps even wrangling an invitation to share an alcoholic beverage or two. Flipper hung back so he could watch, and listen, without her noticing him. She talked to one researcher at length about the differences between social bonds that dolphins form in the wild and in human care. Flipper had to muzzle himself at one point when she spouted “facts” he knew to be incorrect.

  Almost as if she could feel his eyes boring into her back, she turned and swept her gaze over him, and then did a double take. As recognition dawned, excitement—at least that’s how he chose to interpret it—lit up her jade green eyes, but only for the briefest moment before she furrowed her brow and clamped her mouth into a tight, thin line. He stepped closer and smiled.

  “Fancy meeting you here.”

  “Hello, Flipper.” Her tone held no welcome.

  Dismissing him, she turned back to the visiting scientist she’d been speaking with, but a group of giggling coeds had already snagged his attention. They elbowed Tara out of the way, and she shot F
lipper an accusatory glare.

  “So much for the other questions I wanted to ask. You just had to interrupt, didn’t you?”

  “Sorry,” he offered, but he wasn’t really. While Flipper had his share of female admirers, he knew he couldn’t compete with that accent or the Aussie’s chiseled jaw and bulging biceps. Flipper wasn’t some spaghetti-armed wimp who’d tremble while a muscle-bound behemoth kicked sand in his face at the beach, but it was obvious the burly scientist spent a great deal of time in the gym shaping his physique.

  Maybe later Flipper would consider why that bothered him.

  As Tara attempted to brush by him, Flipper watched his hand reach out and snag her arm. What the hell? He glanced at his fingers as though they belonged to someone else, and she regarded him with equal surprise.

  “Let me make it up to you by taking you out to dinner,” said his mouth, which seemed to have disconnected from his brain. “Anywhere you want to go. My treat.”

  “Why?”

  Her wariness gave him pause. Have I been that much of a dick that she has such misgivings when I’m trying to be friendly? Mama would skin me alive if she knew I’d been less than a gentleman. The realization made him determined to do better by Tara.

  “Why what?” he asked.

  “Why would you buy me dinner?”

  “Because even though we ought to despise each other, I want to get to know you better.”

  “I, um, I don’t think—”

  “That’s right, don’t think,” Flipper urged. “Just say yes.” Come on, please say yes.

  “O-okay, but I’m driving myself.”

  “Whatever makes you feel most comfortable.”

  “Where would you like to go?”

  “I’m hoping you’ll suggest someplace. You know this area better than I do.”

  “There are all kinds of restaurants on International Drive and Central Florida Parkway. Depends on what you’re hungry for. Burgers and fries? Pizza? Seafood? Steak? Something more exotic?”

  “You like seafood?”

  “I love it.”