Epilogue
The beach was pristine. Brochure photo ready and then some. Waves rippled in the distance, careening down from great heights to simmer on the shoreline. The tide crept in and out. Saltwater kissed the toes of the beachgoers. Expertly constructed sand castles washed away with the incoming tide. Kyle Pittman paid no mind to any of that.
He remained focused on the drink in his hand and the stack of books he’d lugged onto the shore with him. He’d made a dent in the library, but nothing like he’d imagined when he arrived two months ago. For the first time in his life, there was no rush. Nowhere to be. No worries.
The sun punished his shoulders. The deep-ruby-red of his skin drew an occasional odd stare from the locals, but few paid it much mind. He pulled the floral print button-down over his arms but let the front hang open. Unbuttoned. Free to blow in the wind.
The ice cubes melted into the mango and orange-infused drink. The color reminded him of a fox. That fiery fur. The distant blaze. A memory of a soon-to-be forgotten past. Here, he wasn’t an English teacher struggling to live a comfortable life. He wasn’t a former drug runner, nor a former drug kingpin. He had nothing to do with the downfall of Joanne Mitchell. Hell, he wasn’t even Kyle anymore. There was a simplistic beauty in his clean slate.
Every time he heard something that sounded like Joanne’s name, his stomach hurt. Her love was undying and at first, so was his. A match of two souls wronged throughout their lives. Underestimated. Undervalued. As time grew on, feelings faded. But he saw how easily he could manipulate her to abuse the power and presence that she had within the park. It became a playground where he made the rules.
The act with Andy and Jessica and the others was a tough task. Each day he nearly broke or caved in. Confessed everything. Explained himself. But they wouldn’t have understood. Plus, they needed the money. There was a sick joy in watching the relief wash over their lives as they had enough room to breathe. Kyle was angry at the system. The system that failed these hard-working teachers by overworking and underpaying them. So he’d fought back.
He was halfway towards a midday nap when he snapped himself awake. There was enough sunburn on his skin to prove that a foolish endeavor. He folded up his chair, grabbed his backpack and drink, and booked it up the stairs, over the dunes, and into the condo complex parking lot. His two-bedroom bachelor’s pad was bigger than anything he had back in North Carolina. And there was no pressure or concern over rent or a mortgage. Here, he paid cash upon arrival.
Gulls squawked as they soared in the clouds. Sand snuck between his toes and he kicked his flip-flop to knock it loose. He glanced up and noticed somebody near his door. No, not near his door. At his front door. It was a woman. A pantsuit with muted tones that didn’t belong beside palm trees and tropical birds. He noticed a glimmer of metal on her side. Handcuffs reflected in the bright sunlight.
He dropped the beach chair and considered his next move. The clatter of the aluminum bottom on the sidewalk drew his visitor’s attention. She turned and leaned on the railing. Kyle let out a deep exhale.
“Well, hey there, Kyle,” she said. Her grin was wider than the coastline. “Nice to see you again. Thought we lost you for a moment.”
A life on the run leads you one of two ways. Either you’ve built the stamina to endure any marathon that comes your way, like a life of new identities and looking over your shoulder. Or it exhausts you. Drains your muscles and your heart of any hope. Leaves you stuck like cement when the moment comes and the starting gun fires.
Kyle nodded and took one last long look at the ocean. The waves danced along the shore. Families basked in the sun and splashed in the shallows. For a moment, he thought he could see the impression in the sand from his chair. Before long, that too would disappear. He smiled and then made his way towards the stairs. When he arrived, he sighed and put out his hands. He opened his mouth and couldn’t help but smile. “Detective.”
Acknowledgments
Above all else, thank you for reading. There is nothing that matches the feeling of hearing about how a story touched somebody, made them laugh or kept them turning pages into the night. I hope you loved the story as much as I loved writing it.
I’m beyond grateful to my family and friends for their relentless support and encouragement. Valerie for always being my biggest fan. Peter for positive feedback and input. Kyle for letting me borrow his name and for countless childhood nicknames. Kelsey for the constant cheers, questions and boosts along the way. Megan for being an incredible sounding board and teammate. Harper for long walks and telling me Hoagie should be the main character. Fox for leaning into the role of the villain, maybe a bit too hard. Nick for ranger expertise, positivity and fruit snacks.
Additionally, an enormous thank you to Lisa Orban and the Indies United Publishing House team for their support, community and encouragement. Thanks for taking a chance on me.
The magicians that turned the bones of this story into the words on this page are nothing short of miracle workers. The keen eyes of Aaron Gallagher and Jennie Rosenblum provided an impeccable editing and proofreading team.
A huge thank you to the brave souls who read through an early draft of this and provided feedback. You hold a big(Foot) place in my heart:
Valerie B
Nick D
Nancy R
Kyle B
Ryan M
Shreya V
Margaret B
Ann R
Mary N
Lisa T
Megan L
Fox L
Harper B
Also by Benjamin Bradley
Welcome to the Punkhorns (Shepard & Kelly Book 1)
The Stash
About the Author
Benjamin Bradley grew up in Parsippany, New Jersey. He currently resides in Durham, North Carolina where he consults for nonprofits and international development organizations. He credits his love of books and writing to his mother who taught him at a young age to appreciate and enjoy stories. Mysteries, thrillers and biographies are among the genres he most frequently reads.
Trouble Afoot (Shepard & Kelly Mysteries Book 2) Page 20