Come A Little Closer

by Kim Karr

  My stomach dropped as I imagined what she’d find when she got to Savannah. Alone. Upset. And with no one to help her.

  I looked at the time. It was after five, and I knew I wouldn’t get a flight out until the morning.

  “Fuckkkkkkkk,” I shouted. “Why did you leave your goddamn phone?”

  I knew why, of course—she was cutting me out of her life.

  Sorry sweetheart, that wasn’t happening.

  My cell rang, and I pulled it from my pocket thinking it was Jake, but it was Finn. “Hey, man, perfect timing.”

  The line was full of static, and the background noise made it hard to hear. “Hey, I’m at a fight, but I just got an interesting ping.”

  “Ping?”

  “Yeah, I set up an alert on our friend Sidney McCray.”

  “What did you find out?”

  “How about the FBI have his condo under surveillance, but they aren’t looking for him, they’re looking for Wade Crestwell.”

  “Another alias?”

  “Nope. Simon/Sidney’s husband.”

  “He has a husband?” It wasn’t too much of a shock.

  “Yep, from what I could find out they were married in Florida as soon as same-sex marriage was legalized. They also have a son. Well, Wade does.”

  I felt the tick in my jaw pulse. “Go on.”

  “Ironically enough, it was his nine-year-old son that put him on the FBI radar.”

  “What about Simon?”

  “He’s not even on their radar as Sidney but Simon has an old Persons-of-Interest tag from six years ago for scamming older women, but a warrant was never issued since they couldn’t find him.”

  Six years.

  He’s been with Montague for five. He must have traded older women in the States for one very wealthy woman in the Caribbean. “You’re telling me we know Sidney and Simon are the same person and the FBI does not?”

  “Bingo! According to what I could find, Wade is wanted in a long list of financial scams involving older women, but they haven’t fingered Sidney yet. However, it’s only Wade’s most recent scam that got him caught. So it’s only a matter of time.”

  I stood up and started to pace the room. “What did they do?”

  “I’m almost ashamed to tell you this because I wish I would have come across this info weeks ago.”

  “What did they do, Finn?” I rarely called him Finn. He had to know I was going out of my mind.

  The noise in the background was so loud, but I focused on his voice. “I hope you’re sitting down for this. The kid was hit by a car while riding his bike.”

  “Woah, say that again.”

  He knew he didn’t have to. “The old lady claims she never saw him, and it was in broad daylight. He was with his father who claimed the old lady practically ran his kid right over. To keep it out of the news, she settled and paid Wade more than a hundred thousand dollars to make it go away. The only thing was, Wade didn’t know she took the information to the FBI. Still doesn’t. She might have been old, but she wasn’t stupid.”

  My head was pounding. “Do you think Riley is Wade’s kid?”

  “I do and I don’t. He has a hospital record and although I don’t doubt he could have put a whole new identity together for that, I don’t think it would have been easy. The only way to be certain is to check out the address I sent you. It’s in Savannah, not Miami.”

  I glanced around the room and found my laptop. Over at the keyboard, I brought up my email to find the message that I hadn’t opened, only to find it had been deleted. Sadie. “Do you have it handy to resend?” I asked him.

  “Sure, not a problem.”

  My phone buzzed. It was Jake. “Listen, man, I have Jake on the other line. He was looking into Riley. Can I call you back?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “And thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me. Just save the girl.”

  I shook my head. Since when did Finn become a romantic?

  I clicked over to the other line. “Hey, Jake.”

  “Sundance,” he said. “I made some calls and I’m not sure where your friend got her information, but Riley was hospitalized with pneumonia and was perfectly healthy when he was released.”

  My entire body started to shake with both anger and relief. Sadie hadn’t hit this Riley Houston. The Riley Houston Simon said she did, anyway. Who knows, maybe she hadn’t run over anyone at all.

  That had to be it.

  Or maybe it was planned that way. It could have been a rubber tire or a punching bag flung at the car.

  Who the hell knew.

  My breath exploded in a huge burst. “That motherfucker!”

  Almost immediately though my anger fizzled as a sense of foreboding crept up my spine. Simon had been scamming Sadie from day one. And he was still scamming her right now.

  Fuck!

  I had no way to get ahold of her, but there was no way to do that, and I was at least twenty-four hours from being able to catch up to her.

  “Jake,” I said in anguish, “I’m going to ask you to do me another favor. It’s going to sound crazy, but I need your help.”

  “Sure man, anything, what is it?”

  “Unless you have a private plane you can send for me, it’s going to involve you making a five-hour drive tonight.”

  “How about I do both?”

  “I wasn’t serious about the private plane,” I said, a little shocked.

  I wasn’t but he was.

  JAXSON

  THE PRIVATE PLANE WITH THE ‘Moongate’ insignia plastered along the side belonged to none other than Mrs. Montague.

  Turned out Mrs. Montague and Beatrice Kissinger, Jake’s recently deceased grandmother, were best friends back in the day.

  The Moongate operation, which would shuttle between Savannah and the Caribbean Islands, wasn’t officially open for business until January 1st, but all it took was one call from Jake to get on board.

  Just as wheels touched down on the runway, I pressed send on my email to Elise Petra.

  The one thing I hadn’t done yet was contact my editor. Kylie was not going to be happy about another cancellation. I’d deal with that tomorrow.

  Right now all I cared about was getting Sadie in my arms, and then spanking her ass for never listening.

  While I was on the plane, I called Jake and Jules to tell them the whole truth. I didn’t want them to get involved if they weren’t comfortable with the situation.

  Turned out, the sympathy I got from Jules over how terrible she felt for Sadie had Jake calling his sister, who in turn told her husband, the governor’s son, who then called his father.

  Since Sadie hadn’t committed a crime, she was in no legal danger. Simon, on the other hand, had an immediate warrant for his arrest and the FBI were en route to Miami. His list of offenses was even longer than Finn realized, and he was going to be spending a long time behind bars.

  Thank fuck Jules didn’t ask where I got the info I had gotten because I really didn’t want to have to lie. Still, there was a right and a wrong time for morality. And there was no way in hell I was going to be the one to inform her of what her cousin was doing with his college education.

  As soon as I stepped out the door, I saw Jules and Jake standing beside a black SUV. Jules started waving at me, and I felt myself smile. I had mad love for her, but now it was no longer that kind of burning passion, can’t keep my hands off you kind of love. In fact, it never was. This kind of love was more like the kind of love I might have for a sister, if I had one.

  Realizations dawn at the most inconvenient times.

  Jogging down to the tarmac, I quickly shook Jake’s hand and gave Jules a fast hug. Knowing time was of the essence, we dispensed of the niceties and hopped in the SUV.

  Thirty minutes was never going to be so fucking long.

  SADIE

  THE ONLY REMAINING CONSTANT IN my life was the ocean. Other than the scent of him, the sound of the sea was the most familiar thing to me.

>   I wanted to be able to stand on this beach and look forward to the rest of my life . . . with him.

  But that wasn’t why I was here.

  Somehow my life had gone so far off the rails; I didn’t even know how I got to where I was. Don’t get me wrong, the life I’d led was never normal by any means, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t wanted it to be.

  I stood with cold sand beneath my toes and the salt-scented air tangling in my hair, and breathed deep. The water was anything except warm, and still, the waves did what was expected of them and frothed around my ankles as I stepped closer.

  Despite this, or maybe of because of it, I moved forward, unsure if they were warning me away or beckoning me forward.

  I guess it didn’t matter.

  With each step I took, my teeth chattered, goose bumps covered my body, and the water rose higher and higher.

  I shut out the darkness and wanted to look toward the light. The thing was, I wasn’t sure there was any left.

  Water splashed my knees, and it urged me to move faster. Soon it was up to my thighs, and I hugged myself to stop from shivering. It didn’t do any good.

  I’d done something terrible, and I had to pay for what I’d done. It wasn’t a simple mistake. That was a sweet lie. I hadn’t forgotten to pay the cable bill. What I’d done was something I could never forgive myself for.

  I dove deep into the water and let it take me away.

  Tomorrow, justice would to be served, but tonight I had my own penance to pay.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I opened my mouth and my lungs took in water instead of air. I swam until the waves turned me upside down and my body scraped along the sandy bottom.

  I opened my mouth again, and this time I imagined it was his full lips pressing against mine and not the harsh taste of seawater.

  But when I heard his laugh and felt it rush around me like cream-topped waves, my eyes snapped open.

  Deep down in the sea, I saw his rugged, handsome face, and I remembered how it all began.

  With a picture.

  With his picture.

  Jaxson Cassidy, no longer just a pretty face, but a man I knew I didn’t want to leave behind. A man I couldn’t leave shattered. No, I had to get back to him. To talk to him. To say goodbye in person.

  Determined, I swam up, up, up, but I couldn’t reach the surface. I pushed and clawed and fought until my head broke the surface. Gasping, my arms and legs beat against the water. I swam and swam and swam until the sea tossed me upon the shore.

  I laid there panting, searching for breath I had never wanted so desperately.

  My wrist laid upright and in the moonlight I could see the ink on it. The rainbow. The sliver of hope I always clung to, and I knew right here I always would.

  Hope.

  No one would ever take it away from me.

  Tonight I would face my past and tomorrow I would face my future. I owed that to Jaxson.

  Drying off, I walked up the beach and toward the only thing I had left to my name, except for the mark Jaxson had left on me. The good he’d given me that I’d never forget. It would stay with me through whatever came next.

  The door had been left unlocked.

  It squeaked as I stepped inside and squeaked again when I closed it. After I locked it, I stood in the doorway and sighed a long, shaky breath. Simon had taken everything, just as he’d said.

  Looking around the empty kitchen, I took in every sad detail. The outlines on the walls of where framed prints of coffee cups had once been were so prominent they screamed for a coat of paint. The wallpaper, slightly peeling in the corners, was more noticeable now than it had been when the place had furniture. The scrapes on the old bamboo floor where the chairs had worn patterns into the wood begged to be buffed.

  At the window over the sink, I stared out into the darkness. It was after ten, but I could still see the waves in the moonlight. The sweet, sweet scent of the ocean lingered in the air, in my hair even, and I breathed it in.

  I smiled when I saw the old hammock still in the corner. Simon hadn’t bothered with it and I was glad. I loved that thing.

  Slowly, I walked through the beach shack and entered the living room. First, I checked the door to make sure it was locked.

  The room was as empty as the kitchen, except for the box. It sat right in the center, the label reading, “Theodore Banks, 1 of 2.”

  It was the same box that sat in my apartment for weeks, and I’d never opened it. Would my life be different if I had?

  Worse?

  Better?

  Worse. Much worse, I determined, because everything I’d been through led me to Jaxson.

  Beside the box sat a bottle of Jack Daniels. Nice one, Simon. It was meant as a jab, but I didn’t care. Beside that, just as he promised, his phone.

  Pulling my wet hair aside, I lowered myself down in the empty room and lifted the flaps of the box to find the diary lying on top of an old army jacket with my father’s handle, “Goose,” embroidered on the chest pocket.

  Guess Simon didn’t want anything else in the box.

  With shaky fingers, I lifted the diary and set it on the floor in front of me. Then I took out the coat and wrapped it around myself. Through everything, I’d never stopped loving my father. I only wished I could have helped him get well.

  Lifting the diary, I opened the cover. Engraved to the left in gold was an inscription. It read:

  My dearest Teddy,

  No matter what you fly, you will always be my wingman. Just remember to keep your thoughts close and don’t let them fly away.

  Love, Brenda

  Like me, my mother only wanted to help him. I just hadn’t realized his issues reached back that far.

  Pulling the cap of the whiskey, I took a sip and hated the burn I felt as it went down. I took one more swig and then set it down on the ground.

  Flipping through the first few pages, I read about how my father thought his wife didn’t love him anymore. That she was looking for someone new. Pages and pages of erratic thoughts about what she did with her time when he was at work.

  I looked at the date as I turned each page. His entries were sparse. Ten pages later a year had passed. It was now the year my mother died. He wrote that he knew she was having an affair with Ruffus Magnolia, and they were meeting while he was flying to Miami.

  The wind knocked against the shutters of the roof, and I jumped, almost throwing the book in the air. These weren’t my secrets to know, and I wished I didn’t need to read about them.

  I stood and dragged the box, along with the bottle, and his damn phone, over against the staircase and I leaned back.

  It was dark outside and the light from the ceiling fixtures was dim, making some the entries hard to read. Near the stairs, I had the light from above as well as the living room.

  And yes, I was closer to the front door if I felt I had to run. Something unnerved me. I almost felt like I was being watched, yet I knew no one was here.

  Finding the page I’d left off at, I started to read again. The entries picked up a week after my mother was found dead. He wrote that he knew it was Ruffus here that day because his cigar smoke lingered in the air.

  I gasped when I read that. I remembered that smell. It had been in our house for a very long time. Perhaps, my father wasn’t delusional. Maybe she was having an affair with Ruffus Magnolia, the owner of Moongate, my father’s partner.

  I kept reading. He wrote about how Ruffus had pissed himself when Linc, who was Simon’s father, interrogated him. It took two days, but he admitted to arguing with her over leaving my father, and he didn’t mean for her to fall when he hit her.

  Ruffus Magnolia had hit my mother.

  He’d been hitting my mother.

  I recalled the bruises I’d seen on her body all the time. She’d claimed she needed to eat more iron because she was bruising easily. Why would she continue to have an affair with a man who hit her?

  I knew that was a question I would never know the answer to.<
br />
  I read on. My father wrote that Ruffus was going to pay. He and his two Navy buddies were going to make certain.

  Slapping my hand over my mouth, I didn’t want to read anymore. I didn’t want to know. Yet I knew I had to.

  The next entry was made a week later, and it stated that no one was ever going to find Ruffus Magnolia’s body. The three of them had made sure of it.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to know the truth. I wanted to unlearn it. My father had committed murder, and so had Harvey and Linc. And Simon knew this.

  What had he done with that knowledge?

  The entries that followed were about me. How my father feared for my life. That Linc was unhappy with the money they were making at Moongate. That he wanted to sell, but Harvey and my father refused. Linc made threats. My father worried his threats were real.

  My heart pounded and I started to cry. He really wasn’t paranoid. My life truly was in danger, and I never knew it.

  I flipped faster. Pages and pages of the same. For years this went on. Then it all stopped, and the entries didn’t pick up until he was in prison.

  My eyes were tired. My body was tired. My mind was tired. Yet, I kept reading.

  The next entry was three months after my father went to prison. He wrote about how worried he was that I had run but how grateful he was at the same time because now Linc couldn’t make good with his threats.

  There were pages and pages of the twelve steps. Years of fighting for sobriety that he was forced into. How good he felt to be able to think clearly. How he wanted to get out so he could find me and keep me safe. How Harvey vowed he would make sure Linc didn’t find me.

  Then came the entry about Linc’s death. What I read terrified me and I gasped. My father wrote that Simon had killed his own father with a drug meant to mimic a heart attack and then told Harvey about it.

  He’d blackmailed Harvey and drained Harvey of every cent.

  The last entry was when he learned of his early release and how he was going to beg my forgiveness, and when he gathered the courage, he was going to tell me everything.

  Tears streamed down my face.

  I swiped the water away.

  The creak of the floor above me had me jumping.