by Dee Lloyd
“Everything was in the same envelope. I burned the whole envelope - negatives, printouts, memos … everything - in the fireplace at the marina.”
Jon began to pace, flicking uncertain glances at her from time to time. His conceit was urging him to believe her. The longer he debated, the more chance she had of help arriving before Jon drowned her. She decided to press on.
“Nobody knows what I saw, Jon. We could still get married. You know what a good move that would be for you. We could tell the world we had a lovers’ spat.”
“What did you tell the people you were working for?” He seemed to be considering the possibility.
“Nothing. The old man was recuperating from an operation, and they were desperate for a housekeeper. I told them a story about trying to avoid a persistent boyfriend.”
He stopped pacing.
“I’d love to take you up on your offer, Maura, but I can’t risk it. As things stand, you’d be more of a liability than an asset to me.”
“Stop and think about the hold you’d have on Gran. And all my honorary uncles.” She could see he was still a bit tempted by the idea. “Please. While you’re thinking, could you do me a huge favor?”
“Favor?” His smile mocked her.
“I really need to use the outhouse.”
Jon looked at her impatiently. “I don’t care about your comfort, Maura,” he muttered. She knew then. He really was going to kill her.
“You’d rather I had an accident?” she snapped. “I hoped you had some decency left, Jon.”
“Come on, then.” He gave in with poor grace. Obviously, the accident she mentioned didn’t fit in with the scene he wanted to leave in the cabin.
Wilson, who was on the dock watching the rowboat fill with water, shouted as they approached, “This isn’t going to work, Jon.”
“It doesn’t have to float long. Go and see what’s keeping Vince and Joe. They’ve had plenty of time to move the car.”
Wilson threw up his hands and stalked up the driveway.
When they reached the outhouse, Reenie turned her back to Jon and muttered selfconsciously, “I’ll need my hands.”
Without a word, he ripped off the tape that Wilson had used to bind her wrists. With a mock bow, he opened the outhouse door, all the while carefully keeping his revolver aimed at her.
She shut the door and reached for the rubber gloves that sat on the narrow shelf above the bucket of quicklime. She slipped on one glove, filled the dipper with the caustic powder and steeled herself for what she was about to do. Her father had told her tales of people being badly burned by outhouse lime. She cringed at the thought of what the lime could do to a person’s face, but she had to do something to save her own life.
Concealing the dipper behind a fold of her over-sized T-shirt, she took a deep breath and opened the door. Jon gestured with his gun hand.
“Hurry up!” he said.
She took one step and, with a sidearm motion, hurled the lime at Jon’s throat. He howled with pain and clutched at his face. His revolver fired once but the shot was nowhere near her. Reenie ran for the woods. She could hear Jon cursing as he stumbled towards the lake. Even as she fled for her life, she hoped the lime had missed his eyes. As she ran, she could hear him splashing into the water.
Wilson must have heard the shot and Jon’s bellows. He was probably heading this way at full speed. She crashed through the first few feet of underbrush, then made herself slow down and move more quietly. Reenie had played over every inch of this shoreline as a child, and knew of the perfect hiding place where no one would find her.
Dodging from one small evergreen to another, she made her way towards a small, rocky cliff that jutted out into the lake a couple of hundred yards to the south of the cabin. At the base of the cliff on the side away from the cabin was a small cave. The only way to reach it by land was to rappel down the crumbling cliff face. To reach it, she’d have to swim around the rocks.
Reenie crouched out of sight behind some scrubby balsam at the water’s edge and listened for any sign of pursuit. Jon was still splashing in the water by the dock and shouting for Wilson, but there was no answering shout or sound of pounding feet in the driveway. Why wasn’t Wilson replying? Had Matt arrived? And Gus?
The breeze off the water chilled her. She hated the thought of getting into that cold water. At least, the huge T-shirt she had worn to sleep in last night would not impede her swimming much. She knotted the hem between her legs so that it wouldn’t float up and waded into the thigh-deep cold water.
Taking a deep breath, she submerged. She swam a few yards, then cautiously broke water to take a breath. She was still too close to shore to see the dock. When she resurfaced another few yards out, she could see the whole area in front of the cabin.
One man - she was sure it was Jon - was lying on the dock. Bending over him, was a large redheaded man wearing the same kind of red plaid shirt that Gus had been wearing last night. Gus was all right! Another man, she thought it was Wilson, was standing on the shore by the dock with his hands secured behind his back. Where was Matt?
At that moment, she saw Matt explode out the cabin door.
“She’s not there,” he shouted. Then he said something to Wilson that she couldn’t hear.
“Matt,” she yelled, waving one hand above her head. “Here. I’m here”
She submerged again to swim as fast as she could back towards the dock.
Matt turned toward the sound of her voice just in time to see her disappear under the surface of the water about a hundred yards south of the landing. Shouting her name, he tore down the dock. As he vaulted over Jon Casen’s prone form where he lay cursing and moaning, Matt saw that the man’s lower face was hideously blistered. If he had done anything to Reenie, that would be the least of Casen’s worries. Matt launched himself in a shallow dive and swam furiously towards the spot where he’d seen her go down.
When he stopped to get his bearings, he heard her voice again. She was a few feet behind him now, treading water, smiling and reaching out to him. She was all right!
The next thing he knew, she was in his arms and their mouths were joined in a desperate kiss. As they sank under the water again, Matt realized how cold her lips were. And how frigid the lake water was.
As they rose sputtering to the surface, Matt turned onto his back and holding her back against his chest, he struck out for shore. That Reenie allowed him to take command like that told its own story of how cold and exhausted she must be. When they reached the shallow water near the dock, Matt picked her up in his arms and carried her to shore. Without pausing, he strode by Jon Casen who was still lying, whimpering on the dock, by Wilson who was leaning glumly against a tree, by Gus who was barking commands into a cellular phone. He didn’t set her down until they were inside the warm cabin. He grabbed a beach towel from a peg just inside the door, wrapped it around her shoulders, and began to rub her shivering body briskly.
“Matt. Matt,” she whispered over and over through her chattering teeth, wrapping her arms around his neck and covering his face with trembling kisses.
“Are you all right, sweetheart?” He didn’t wait for a reply. He had to tell her what she meant to him. “I thought Casen had killed you. My life wouldn’t be worth living without you. Oh, Lord, Reenie. I need you.”
He took her face between his hands. “I love you. Stay with me, Reenie?” he asked as he lowered his head to kiss her.
He put all his hopes for the future in his kiss. They were both breathless when it ended.
“As long as you want me,” Reenie promised.
“That’s as long as we live,” he vowed. “Marry me, Reenie. Now. Today.”
“Don’t you think we should get into some dry clothes first,” Reenie said with a laugh.
“If you insist.” His gravelly voice had taken on the smoky tone she loved. “Of course, we have to get out of these …”
He called down to Gus that they’d need a few minutes to get dressed and drew
the bolt on the cabin door.
He pulled the soggy cotton shirt over her head. As he stripped off his own wet clothes, Matt’s eyes skimmed Reenie’s body. She had some fresh scratches and scrapes on her arms and legs.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked.
“I got away before he could,” she said. Her deep blue eyes told him that was all she was going to say for now.
“But I am cold, Matt.” Reenie’s arms went around his neck and she pressed her wet, chilly breasts against his chest. “Very cold.”
“Not for long, sweetheart,” he said, swinging her up into his arms and carrying her into the nearest bedroom.
Without giving a thought to the comings and goings of Gus and his deputies outside the cabin, Matt concentrated on warming her chilled body. Reenie had no difficulty warming his.
Epilogue
Reenie was lying on her stomach on the deck gazing out at the water. Its irregular patches of deep blue, turquoise and green were too beautiful to be real. Exotic palm trees rimmed sandy beach beyond it. The Sailing Solution was moored in the bay of a tiny island near St. Thomas, which they’d discovered on their honeymoon a year ago.
She rolled over and stretched languorously, almost too happy. Matt emerged from the galley with an ice bucket that contained a chilled bottle of champagne.
“Happy Anniversary, sweetheart,” he said, setting the champagne down on the flip-out table in the cockpit. He held out his arms. “Come on down here to me.”
“Happy Anniversary,” she said, wrapping her arms around his gorgeous tanned body. “And Happy Thanksgiving, too.”
He gave her one of his special long, tender kisses that never seemed to lose their magic and said, “We’ve a lot to give thanks for.”
He popped the champagne cork and filled their glasses with pale golden liquid. “I’ll always be thankful for Hazel Leigh’s runaway boat.” He raised his glass.
Reenie touched its rim with hers and took a tiny sip. “We should have it bronzed.”
“Hey, it was heavy enough the way it was.”
“I’m thankful that Jon is finally in prison where he belongs,” Reenie toasted.
“Gus is put out that Walt’s bosses and their FBI cronies got Casen’s criminal charge lowered to manslaughter in return for his testimony against Sal Gerardo and Chang Lu. But, just knowing that he’s been put away for a long time is something to be thankful for.”
They touched glasses again and drank.
“And I’m thankful that business is booming and your new waterside cafe was a hit this summer.” Matt drained his glass.
He reached for Reenie’s glass to refill it and looked at her in surprise, “It’s still full. Don’t you like it?”
“It’s delicious, but I don’t think alcohol is a good idea right now.” The happiness she was feeling was effervescent enough.
Matt’s dark eyes met hers for a second. She watched the joy dawn in them.
“I didn’t think life could get any better,” he said, grinning broadly and taking her in his arms. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”
“I’m only two weeks overdue,” she cautioned. “But I could be.”
“Then what do you say we make a real effort to make sure?” he said, beginning to kiss a line down the side of her neck toward her scanty bikini top.
“Sounds like a time-consuming project, partner,” she said with a sensuous chuckle. “But I’ll do what I can to help.”
Matt’s only reply was a low rumble. His mouth was busy.
The End
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