by Kelly Lane
Buck grabbed my shoulders and helped me up. Then, he moved around to sit behind me, wrapping his arms around me. He held me tight.
“You must be cold. We need to get you to the hospital.”
We were in the bilge of his boat . . . or, I guess it was his boat. I’d never seen it before. But it was the one he’d been driving when he found me in the water. The one with dual engines. We were both soaked, floating around in the middle of the Big Swamp.
“I don’t need a hospital. Did the alligator make it?” I asked. “You didn’t shoot him, did you?”
“Actually, he did make it,” he whispered in my ear. “And I never fired a shot. I figured it was easier to jump in, cut you loose, and get you out of the water and out of harm’s way than it was to try to kill the bastard and have him die then drag you to the bottom of the swamp with him before I could get you free. Of course, he didn’t like that idea, and I had to bop him on the nose a few times, just to let him know who was boss.”
“But you let him go?”
“Yup. I already have a pair of alligator boots.”
“That’s good,” I said.
Still holding me from behind, Buck bent around me so I could see his face. He winked. I tried to laugh. But I was too exhausted. And Buck still had that worried look in his eyes that I wasn’t used to seeing.
“Babydoll,” he said, taking my hands in his. “I’m sorry for the things I said to you this morning. It was wrong. Someone hurt you. Seriously bad. And instead of coming to you and offering my support, I yelled at you.”
“No one hurt me. At least not recently. Unless you count the alligator . . . Do you think it was Suitcase?”
“Eva, I’m serious. I was so outraged when I discovered what Dex Codman had done to you, it didn’t matter that it’d been years ago. For me, it was like it’d just happened. And it made me crazy. Frankly, the guy is lucky he was already dead.”
He took one hand and caressed the side of my face.
“I get it. You had to do your job. And you couldn’t do it being involved with me.”
“No. I took it all out on you . . . the very reaction you feared when you decided not to tell anyone in the first place. I promise you, I will never, ever, put my feelings ahead of yours again. Look at me, Eva.” He pulled my face around to his. “I will always keep you safe.”
“Even when I do stupid things?”
“Even when you do stupid things. But what happened with Dex did not happen because you did something stupid. Do you understand?”
“Yes. If you say so. Still, I should’ve known better.”
“Stop. It wasn’t your fault. And you did the right thing when you left him. A lot of women, and men, never get to that point. It took guts to leave. I’m proud of you.”
Buck squeezed me close to him. Even soaking wet, his skin felt warm.
“Now,” he said, releasing me, “do you think you can stand up?”
I nodded.
“We need to get you out of these wet clothes.” Buck reached into a locker box and pulled out a sealed plastic bag and handed it to me. “Here’s a sweatshirt and some running shorts. Not your usual style, but they’re dry. Put them on.”
“I can’t. I’m too tired. And we need to catch up to Skeets and Pottie Moss.”
Hurriedly, I told Buck everything that had happened, about the group on the island—already, we could hear them yelling again—about Pottie Moss’s confession, and about how she was getting away. And although cell phones didn’t work on the swamp, radios did. Buck was on his radio calling for reinforcements before I’d even finished my story. Some of his deputies were to meet him at the Taylor Farm dock. Others were to get boats into the water at the main Big Swamp dock and start fanning out across the swamp, looking for Pottie Moss and Skeets.
When he put the radio down, we were headed to Alligator Island.
“Eva, I’m serious: Take off your clothes. Or I’ll do it for you.”
“That sounds like fun, too.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“Fine.”
While Buck navigated the boat, I peeled off my wet clothes, tossing them in the bilge, before pulling on Buck’s sweatshirt and shorts. Both had Abundance County Sheriff’s Department insignias on them. And once I got into the dry clothes, I did feel better.
“Here. Eat this.” Buck handed me a Butterfinger candy bar. “You need to get your strength back.”
“Thanks.”
At Alligator Island, we picked up the group and loaded up Daphne’s picnic stuff. It seemed that all the alcohol had finally kicked in. Except for Claudia’s whimpering, and a few giggles from the twins, no one said a word. We made it back to the Taylor Farm dock in less than fifteen minutes, where we quickly unloaded and met up with some of Buck’s deputies. Buck barked out instructions to his deputies before he grabbed my hand and led me up onto the field where the vehicles were parked. In addition to the deputies’ vehicles and the rental van we’d all taken from the plantation earlier that day, there was a big, shiny, chromed-out, one-ton white Dodge dually with clearance lights and a big brush guard around the grill guard, with an empty trailer hitched behind it.
“Yours?” I asked Buck.
Of course, I knew it was his before I’d asked. He nodded.
“Nice,” I said.
“When Daphne called me saying you all hadn’t returned home from the swamp tour, I decided to start where you had taken off. So I launched the boat here. Then, I just headed out to Alligator Island.”
As we were talking, the group was loading the supplies into the van. The twins were slapping at bugs again.
“Wait here a minute.”
Buck went to confer with his deputies while Wiggy, Coop, Spencer, Claudia, and the twins piled into the rental van. The driver’s-side window in the van rolled down. One of the twins looked out.
“Miss Eva, are you coming?” asked Charlene. Or maybe it was Darlene.
“I . . . I . . .”
I didn’t know what to say. Getting into the crowded van with the group from Boston somehow riled me. And for some reason, I really wanted to be . . . alone. Like, totally alone. I just wanted to sit for a bit and listen . . . listen to the bugs, the frogs, the night birds and creatures . . . all of it.
Buck was at my side. His deputies waited near the dock.
“Eva, are you alright, Babydoll? Do you need me to take you to a hospital? I can call Doc Payne.”
“Oh, goodness, no, not Doc Payne!” I laughed. “His bad breath would surely kill me on the spot.” I smiled. “No. I feel fine, really. Just tired. I can’t explain it . . . I just want to be . . . alone. It’s kind of like I need to push my reset button.”
Buck patted me on the arm. “It’s okay. I get it. Used to happen to me all the time. After a big mission.”
He walked over to the van and told the twins to go ahead without me. As the van pulled away, Buck headed to the truck and trailer, released the hitch, and jacked up the trailer.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Buck reached into his pocket. “Here,” he said, tossing me the keys. “When you feel up to it, drive my truck home. I’ll have one of my deputies bring me by later to pick it up. If you feel okay enough to drive, that is . . .”
“Yes. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, then. If not, just stay here, inside the truck. And lock the doors. I’ll come find you. Okay?”
“Yes.”
Buck gave me a hug, pressing himself close. “Be safe,” he whispered. “And don’t worry. We got this.”
Then he pulled away and started jogging back to the boat. “Come on, boys, we’ve got some catching up to do.”
Buck hustled down to the pier and climbed back into his boat, along with a couple of deputies. He waved as the twin engines grumbled and the boat took off down the river. Meanwhile, the r
emaining deputies climbed back into their vehicles and fired up their engines. And they all left.
Without me.
CHAPTER 59
Sitting on the dock on Snake River listening to the cacophony of night creatures, I was totally alone. I must’ve sat there for thirty minutes or more, just thinking. I’d spent nearly half my lifetime running away from what Dex had done to me. Hiding from myself, really. And now Dex was gone . . . and my secret was out.
I wondered, had I changed? Not really, I thought. Still, I did feel stronger. More sure of myself. And I did know what I wanted from life. Still, I knew that I had more work to do on myself, before I’d be ready for a forever relationship with someone.
Finally, I stood up to leave.
Everything is going to be okay.
And that’s when an engine roared as a pair of headlights came flying across the field, headed right toward the dock. I knew instantly who it was. And I had to laugh.
“A perfect ending to my night,” I said out loud.
The black Escalade slammed to a stop. The door flew open, and out jumped Debi Dicer. Fists clenched, arms flapping, she stomped over to the dock.
GPS, GPS, GPS . . .
“Eva Knox! I warned you!” she cried, slamming her feet onto the pier. She was wearing a white linen shift with a big, bright pink beaded necklace and matching pink dangly floral earrings. The heels of her Tory Burch sandals click-clacked on the wooden planks.
“Where’s Buck? Buck!” she called out. “Buck!”
To say that Debi looked upset was an understatement. Her normally pretty face was all knotted up. She slammed down to the end of the pier to face me.
“We were having a date when we got interrupted by a phone call. I just knew it was you, Eva Knox! Buck! Come out here! Bucky!” she screeched.
“And good evening to you, too, Miss Debi,” I said with a smile. “Bucky’s not here.”
“What do you mean, he’s not here? His truck is here!” She stepped closer. “And well, well, well, just look at you! Been doin’ a little skinny-dipping in the river? Where are your clothes, Eva Knox? If he’s not here, then what are you doin’ wearing Buck’s sweatshirt and . . . pants!” she shrieked. “Buck! Y’all come out here, right this minute!”
“Actually, since you asked, I did do a little dance in the swamp with a big reptile earlier. But I’m used to it . . . After all, I found a snake in my bed the other night, thanks to you.”
Suddenly, Debi stopped spinning around, looking to catch sight of Buck. And she smiled.
“Ahh, so you did find my little gift. I thought it suited you.”
“Yes. And I found my phone, too, so thank you for returning it. It was really very sweet of you.”
“I’m always sweet, sweetness. I found it in the seat of Bucky’s SUV. Should’ve been more careful, hon. That’s how I knew you two were still sneaking around together. Well, I’m totally onto you now. As you can see. So your little nighttime nooky sessions are no more.”
“Gosh, Debi. You’re so smart.”
“You think this is funny?” she said. “Watch this!”
Suddenly, she reached out to shove me hard, toward the edge of the pier. Except I was ready, and at the last moment, I stepped aside. When Debi kept falling forward and lost her balance, I might have left my foot in the way, and she might have tripped over it, completely losing her balance. Of course, with nothing to hang on to, and no one reaching out to save her, Debi tumbled right into the muddy river.
“Enjoy your dip, Debi,” I said, turning on my heels. “And watch out for Suitcase. He missed his first course tonight. He must be hungry, no doubt, for a sweet Southern dish like you.”
CHAPTER 60
Later that night as I walked across the moonlit lawn to my cottage, I spotted Ian Collier sitting on the stoop with Dolly. When Ian saw me, he stood up.
“Eva, I hope ye don’t mind my coming here this late at night,” he said outside the cottage. “I figured I needed to apologize to ye . . . for the way I reacted this morning when ye found the painting.”
“Hi, Ian. I’m so happy to see you. There’s no need to apologize. Really. I’m so terribly sorry. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I was snooping around in your home, and I had no business . . .”
Ian stepped close and put a finger to my lips.
“Fiona,” he said.
“Wh . . . what?”
“Fiona. The young woman in the painting. She was beautiful, full of light and life, just like you are standing here in this moonlight, even in . . . Wait!” Ian took a step back and looked me up and down. “Are those yer man’s togs yer wearing?”
Even as he chuckled at my outfit, his eyes looked soft and full of sadness as he reached up and touched me lightly on the cheek.
I nodded. “I had a little swamp adventure tonight. It’s not important now. Please, you don’t owe me an explanation, Ian,” I said. “Precious was right; I had no business snooping around your library like that. I’m sorry. Really, I am. Won’t you come inside?”
“No, thanks, if it’s all the same to you, I’d just as soon stay here, outside. Can we just set here on the stoop for a bit?”
“Sure. I’d like that.”
“I won’t be staying long.”
Ian sat on the big stone stoop to my cottage and stretched his long legs out in front of him. I sat down beside him, letting his heavenly woodsman scent envelop me. The night air was thick with the singing of crickets and frogs out in the yard. Ian looked up at the dark night sky.
Gosh, he’s gorgeous.
“It was our wedding day when it happened, more than twenty years ago,” he said slowly. “Fiona and I had met two years earlier in Scotland. Her father’d been a professor at the University in Edinburgh where I’d been a student. Her mother was a brilliant surgeon. Fiona was their only child. And from the moment we’d first laid eyes on each other, Fiona and I were desperately in love. Soul mates. We were crazy about all the same things, really—books, horses, long walks in the countryside. Cranachan and shortbread.” He smiled. “Her shortbread was the best, that one.”
He stopped for a moment, as if he was remembering the taste of Fiona’s shortbread.
“She was smart as a whip, too. She had several scholarships in Celtic and Gaelic studies, and she spoke fluent Irish Gaelic and Scottish Gaelic . . . no easy task, either one. And she had the most lovely, soft, lilting, musical voice. I guess that’d be the Irish in her . . . not like the more gruff and guttural sound of so many of the Scots I’d grown up hearing.”
“She sounds lovely.”
Ian nodded. Without looking at me, he kept on . . .
“Although we’d met in Edinburgh, her mother’s family was from a little village in County Antrim in Northern Ireland. And that’s where we’d gone to be married. All my family was there . . . my mother, father, and my two older brothers. And Fiona’s family, her parents, grandparents, and some aunts, uncles, and cousins. Some were young children. Anyway, a few minutes after the ceremony, we were all standing outside the church, organizing ourselves before having our wedding photos taken, when Fiona realized that her little niece, Hannah, had left her flowers somewhere inside the church. So I raced back inside to find them. I had my hand on the bouquet when I heard the blast outside. A car bomb.”
“Oh . . . my gosh. Ian . . .”
“Nineteen people were killed that day.”
“I . . . I . . . I don’t know what to say. How horrible. I’m so sorry . . .”
“Ye don’t have to say anything. It was a long time ago, now. I’m only telling ye about it because when I saw ye standing next to the portrait, I was thunderstruck at how alike you and Fiona look. And that’s even after knowing ye all this summer, and already recognizing how much you two look alike. It shocked the hell out of me the first time I saw ye a few months ago.”
“I unders
tand . . .”
“Also, I figure ye must think I’m some sort of nutcase, having feelings for ye because ye remind me of my wife. While it’s true, ye look uncannily like her, and ye remind me of her, I want ye to know that I do see ye for who ye are, yerself, not as someone I want ye to be, or someone I remember. Yer much more athletic and outgoing than Fiona ever was. And I must tell ye, Eva, yer much more of a hammerhead.”
He chuckled. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“I used to sit and stare at Fiona’s portrait and wish for a miracle. However, I don’t look at it much anymore. It’s just a fantasy. And lamenting for our lost life together distracts me from my purpose. Ye see, after that day at the church, I made a vow to spend the rest of my life working to stop people who make bombs that kill innocent people, like my family. And I’m still at it.”
A vehicle pulled into the parking area up at the big house.
Ian stood up.
“That’ll be Mister Lurch, coming for me. I’ve kept ye long enough tonight, Eva.”
“It’s okay . . . really . . .”
Still processing everything he’d said, I couldn’t find the words to respond as Ian started to head toward the big house. Then he stopped.
“Aw, I’m an eejit.”
He walked back toward me, smiling softly.
“I meant to tell ye, Eva, that the photos ye brought to me today proved quite interesting. It looks like yer friends set up a company with a name similar to but not exactly the same as the Perennial Paper Company in Boston. Yer man, Buck, and I were talking about it earlier. He’s thinking the Boston folks are using the legit Boston company’s assets to research and lay the foundation to acquire land, and they’re planning on tricking sellers into signing the actual deal with their phony company. Then the crooks will disappear before anyone figures it out.”
“What? How can that possibly work?”
“It can’t. Whatever they’re up to, they won’t be getting away with it. Their plan was sketchy at best. If they’d had a snowball’s chance in hell of getting away with it, they would’ve had to have planned on hiding for the rest of their lives.”