by Beth Flynn
“A note?” she questioned.
“Yeah.” He smirked. “I’m sure it was to say she was sorry for fucking up with the car key.” He gave Lucy a serious look. “Shasta doesn’t know I can’t read. Nobody really knows it. Just Anthony and X.”
“Are those the men I saw you with at the restaurant that day with Christy Chapman?”
He nodded.
“What kind of name is X?”
“It’s short for Alexander,” he explained.
“So, does Shasta come here regularly?” They’d stopped walking and she kicked at the dirt. She wouldn’t look at him as she waited for his answer.
“She’s never been here before, and if you’re wondering how she found her way here and back by herself, I left markers for her. Bright orange ribbons that a blind man couldn’t have missed. She stopped and collected them as she made her way out of here and back to Naples.”
Lucy knew that was his way of telling her that she wouldn’t be able to leave the cabin and find her way out of the Everglades without him. They’d finally circled back to the cabin, and Jonas was walking her past where her car was parked.
Lucy stood with her hands on her hips and looked at the pond that was just beyond it. “I guess the chances of me finding my car key are pretty slim.”
“Stop worrying about the car key. Like I said, it’s not a safe car anyway. I’ll get you a better one. A safer one.”
“You do not need to get me a car, Jonas. I can get my own car. Wait a second. I already have a car!”
When he didn’t reply, she changed the subject. “Why is your motorcycle in the back of your truck? Do you still need to get it fixed?”
He looked over his shoulder as if to verify his bike was where she said it was. “No. It’s already been fixed. I just didn’t want to leave my bike at the camp.”
“The camp?”
“Where the bikers I hang with all hang.” She started to look flushed again and he realized it was the heat. Lucy was pale, so translucent her veins could’ve been mistaken for tattoos in some places. She was starting to wilt. He opened her hatchback and grabbed her things. He hauled them up to the front porch and left them there while he went to the bed of his truck. He reached over the side and pulled out a camouflage canvas duffel bag.
“C’mon inside,” he told her. “I think the heat is getting to you. Don’t worry. I’ll get the generator running and have those fans going in no time.” He marched back up to the porch and flung open the door before grabbing her bags and taking them inside. He quickly peeked his head out. “C’mon inside now, sweetheart,” he told her as he patiently waited for her to move.
Lucy stood still for only a moment longer. She let her eyes drift over the cabin, his truck, her car, the pond, the shed, the outhouse, and the surrounding property. This was going to be her world for the next thirty days. “It’s not the heat getting to me that I’m worried about, Jonas.” She walked up the front porch after him and silently told herself, it’s you.
Chapter 25
True to his word, Jonas retrieved the generator and fans, and before too long, the cabin was swathed in warm but circulating air. The old refrigerator buzzed to life with an ancient hum that was loud but steady.
Lucy had unpacked her bags, filling up the old dresser with her clothes and piling her toiletries and other personal items on top. There was no closet to hang her nicer garments, but since she wouldn’t be wearing any of the finer wardrobe she’d packed for the more formal activities on the cruise, she was content to leave them in the suitcases and stack them in a corner.
Jonas walked in behind her and found her staring at the bed.
“I left you a drawer,” she informed him.
“Thanks,” he replied and then added, “I’ll take the couch in the front room. You can have the whole bed to yourself, Lucy.”
Her head snapped his way. “You’re too big for that little couch, Jonas. I can sleep on it.”
He shook his head. “The bed is yours.”
She watched him unload the duffel bag into the empty drawer. He tossed the empty sack into the corner with her suitcases and returned to the front room. Lucy followed and immediately noticed a crossbow and arrows in a corner that had been vacant before.
Before she could ask, Jonas informed her, “For hunting.” He nodded at the cooler that temporarily served as a coffee table. “I don’t know if we’ll run out of meat.” She made no comment but immediately pitched in to help transfer the cooled items into the refrigerator.
When they were finished, she announced, “I have to use the outhouse. I’m pretty sure I don’t need an escort.”
Jonas didn’t comment and followed her out to the front porch and stared as she walked to the structure that had been placed in an open clearing a couple hundred feet from the storage shed. He stood on the top step with one hand clutching the weathered railing. He silently observed her, mesmerized by how she carried herself. She walked with a grace that conjured up images he’d seen of Queen Elizabeth. He marveled at Lucy as she strolled her way toward a homemade outhouse yet carried herself like she was walking to her coronation. He thought back to their meeting in front of the drugstore and couldn’t help but wonder why the guy with the dog had called her a freaky looking bug-eyed bitch. There was nothing freaky looking about Lucy. Her thick glasses didn’t make her eyes look buggy, they only enhanced them. He couldn’t help but think that she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. He felt a drop of sweat tickling his brow and swiped it with his arm.
A few moments passed before she emerged from the old-fashioned restroom. She passed by him with a small wave. “I keep my lessons for the students I tutor in the backseat of my car.” After retrieving a huge tote bag with a beaming yellow smiley face on it, she marched up the steps and past Jonas, letting herself into the cabin and shutting the door behind her.
Jonas once again reflected on the man with the dog at the drugstore. When he’d driven off, Jonas had committed the numbers on his Florida license plate to memory. He also could recall the shapes of the letters but didn’t know what they were. His first order of business with Lucy would be to identify those letters and the next time he saw his contact, he would have that man tracked down. And it wouldn’t be to make sure he was taking care of his dog.
Chapter 26
Once inside the cabin, Jonas found Lucy standing with her back to him in front of the small corner table that housed a lantern and a box of matches. He spied her tote bag on the couch.
She slowly spun around and held up a framed picture. “I didn’t notice this before.”
“I had it in my duffel bag and put it there before I brought my stuff into the bedroom to unpack.”
She held it up. “Who are these people? They’re sitting on the porch of this cabin, so I’m assuming they’re family.”
“It’s my grandfather and his ex-best friend, Cleo,” he answered. “It was taken about forty years ago.”
She smiled and nodded. “And the little boy?”
“My father. I think he was about six at the time.”
Lucy brought the picture closer to her face. It was a black-and-white photo, old and grainy, and whoever had taken it was standing with their back to the sun. Lucy was hoping to see a resemblance to Jonas in his father’s picture, but it was hard to make out his features because the photographer’s shadow cast a shade over the boy’s face. She gently set the frame back where she found it and continued with her query. “Your grandfather and his friend,” she began. “They would’ve been an unusual pair during that time period. You referred to him as your grandfather’s ex-best friend. What happened?”
Jonas’ shoulders lifted slightly, giving the appearance of indifference. “They were an unusual pair, thick as thieves and closer than brothers the way my grandfather told it. But they had a difference of opinion when it came to the wildlife.”
Lucy raised her eyebrows, an indication that she was interested.
Jonas took the hint and cont
inued. “My grandfather farmed this land. Selling produce is how he made a living before moving inland and buying the building that would become Brooks’ Bait & Tackle. Grandpa also hunted but only for what was necessary to survive. Like we’ll do if we run out of meat. Back in the day, Cleo owned the property that butted up to this one on the east side.” Jonas unconsciously nodded his head in that direction. “Sadly, he didn’t have the same heart for the natural inhabitants of this land, especially when he saw how much he could prosper from their demise. He saw dollar signs in the alligator skins, animal pelts, and skulls. He left a boatload of carcasses all over this swamp. Grandpa tried to stop him, tried to reason with him, but to no avail. It came to a head when Cleo started hunting on this property. My grandfather had reached the end of his rope when he found a baby black bear camped out next to its skinned mother. He confronted Cleo and it turned physical. Grandpa told me it was the first time in the history of their friendship that they came to blows. He told Cleo if he ever found another dead animal on this property, he’d bury him with it. My grandfather was not a hotheaded or violent man, but I think he actually meant it.”
Lucy had been listening intently when she posed a question. “Couldn’t your grandfather have reported it to the police or game warden? I’m sure poaching on private property is illegal.”
Jonas gave her a sarcastic smirk. “He did that. Nobody came because back then, nobody cared.”
“I can believe that,” she told him, her eyes glistening with understanding. “I’m not sure how much someone would care if it was happening even now.”
Jonas clapped his hands in front of him and announced, “Whew, I don’t think I’ve ever told anybody that story. It’s water under the bridge anyway. Cleo kept on poaching, just not on this property. They never spoke again, and I don’t think my grandfather ever saw him after that. Cleo eventually sold his land and moved away.”
“It’s a shame it had to end that way,” she admitted. “But I can see your grandfather’s point of view. He sounds like he was a man of principle. What’s his name?”
Jonas got a faraway look in his eyes before answering. “His name was Isaac.” He cut his eyes to Lucy. “Like the Old Testament prophet.”
“Yes, Abraham’s son. Did you go to Sunday School?” she inquired.
He shook his head. “No. My grandpa used to read to me from his Bible.”
Lucy moved to the couch and sat down. Looking up at Jonas, she asked, “Will you tell me about them? About your parents and grandparents?”
She seemed genuinely interested, so Jonas took a seat on the cooler and told her about his childhood.
He never knew his grandparents on his mother’s side, and his grandmother on his father’s side died before Jonas was born. He barely remembered his mother, who like Lucy’s father, had died when Jonas was young, just three years old. “She had a rare form of leukemia that went undiagnosed and took her quickly. I have very few memories of her,” he explained. His father remarried when Jonas was six years old, and although his stepmother was kind to him, he never allowed himself to get close to her.
Lucy interrupted only to ask if it was because he resented his stepmother for taking his mother’s place.
His answer was a shake of his head before continuing with the story.
Lucy sat, horrified when he told her that his father and grandfather had been killed in a car accident when Jonas was ten years old.
“We were pulling out of the bait store. My father was driving, Grandpa was riding shotgun, and I was in the backseat. A ninety-two-year-old woman, who probably couldn’t see over the steering wheel, hit us. She was driving an old car that was built like a tank. My grandfather and the old lady died instantly. My father crushed his chest against the steering wheel. He died at the hospital. I was bruised and sore, but nothing was broken. My stepmother got custody of me and that’s the end of that.”
Lucy had been sitting on the end of the couch. She scooted sideways so she could be directly in front of him as he sat on the cooler, one elbow casually resting on his right knee. She reached for one of his hands and took it in hers. “It explains a lot, Jonas. All that loss and the resulting anger. And that anger had to go somewhere. It makes perfect sense as to why you’ve done the things you’ve done. Why you’re on the wrong side of the law.” She gave him an understanding look of compassion and concern.
He gently removed his hand from hers before standing up and walking to the other side of the cooler, as if to distance himself from her. He swung around and glared down at her. “Don’t, Lucy. Just don’t.”
She jumped up, surprised by his expression and the aggravated tone in his voice. “Don’t what, Jonas?” she asked.
“Don’t make excuses for me. You want to put a label on me. Poor illiterate kid who lost everyone he loved and was stuck with an evil stepmother. Of course he turned out the way he did. First of all, my stepmother loved me as best she could. It wasn’t her fault I didn’t love her back.”
“Maybe you were afraid to because you didn’t want to take a chance of losing her as well,” she corrected.
“You’re wrong. You don’t understand a damn thing about me, Lucy. You should by now. You’ve seen what I’m capable of doing. Shit, you’re living it right now. Stuck here in a cabin with me in the middle of nowhere. And you were wrong when you told me I couldn’t have lit a guy on fire because I was with you at the time. I did it right after you pulled away from the gas station. The guy was one of the newer club members who drove in when you and I were talking. I was glad to light his ass up. And I’d do it again a million times over without regret. I had the cop give you a different timeline to alibi, so I understand why you believed it.”
Lucy stood still, slack-jawed and bewildered. “What are you trying to tell me, Jonas?”
“I’m trying to tell you that I don’t do the things I do as a result of my childhood. Tragic as it sounds, it’s not why I’ve killed people. Don’t try and romanticize who I am. Don’t make excuses for me, Lucy, because you’ll only end up disappointed more than you probably are right now.”
He inwardly cringed at her startled expression. But, if he was going to ever have a chance with her, it wouldn’t be with lies. Because lies never stay buried. She had to know who she was dealing with from the get-go. She had to come to terms with and hopefully accept the real Jonas Brooks. And the real Jonas Brooks wasn’t a nice guy.
“Okay,” she said with a resigned expression. “I won’t make assumptions about your current lifestyle based on what I recognize as childhood trauma.”
He gave a quick nod of his head, grateful she was willing to not sugarcoat his past or present lifestyle. Even more thankful that she wasn’t wilting under his admission and insisting he return her to civilization.
“So, tell me then, Jonas, why do you do the things you do? Why are you the quintessential bad guy?”
“It’s very simple, sweetheart,” he answered with a curl of his lip. “I was born this way.”
Chapter 27
Lucy didn’t comment on his last revelation because she didn’t believe him. Instead, she insisted they pass the rest of the afternoon by getting started on his lessons.
She wasn’t shocked at all when Jonas appeared to be a quick learner. They’d started out simply enough. She held up a chart of the alphabet and was pleasantly surprised when Jonas pointed to three separate letters and asked her to write them down for him. After identifying them, she told him that he should try writing them. She handed him a pad and paper and was curious when he wrote two numbers, followed by the first letter, which he wrote backwards. Then he wrote two more letters, followed by a number.
“What is this?” she inquired.
He didn’t look at her but instead squinted at what he’d written. “It’s a license plate I tried to memorize. And now that I’m looking at what I wrote, I’m not sure they’re what I remember.”
She nodded. “That’s because the ‘C’ you wrote could easily be confused with an ‘O’ or
even a lower case ‘E’.” A beat passed before Lucy added, “I can’t be certain, but you might be dyslexic.”
Jonas looked up at her. “Dis what?”
“Dyslexia is a learning disability and it’s still too soon to tell. You wrote that ‘C’ backwards, but reversals happen as a normal part of development, and lots of children do that up until first or second grade. So you might not be dyslexic since that’s a normal part of child development. Do you remember how old you were when you thought maybe you weren’t getting it?”
Jonas looked thoughtful for a moment before telling her, “Maybe third or fourth grade. But, keep in mind, I was a rotten little brat. In all fairness to my teachers, I wasn’t interested in learning to read. I was too busy being a hellion. And then when my father and grandfather died, all bets were off. I checked out completely.”
Lucy held up a flash card. “Do the letters look like they’re flickering around? Does everything on this card seem a little jumbled?”
He gave a slow nod before looking at her. “Yeah, they kind of do.”
“Okay,” she told him. “That helps me. And I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re dyslexic.”