“Oh, honey. I came right outside as soon as I heard you were coming my way.” She tugged me into the shop with her.
Dad slipped outside. He circled the cart slowly, rubbing his forehead. I held my breath, waiting. He waved and yelled, “Not a big deal. I can fix it.”
For the first time, I wished I had some of his special water to calm me down. That was the most humiliating drive I’d ever made, even worse than leaving the FBI when they fired me. What if people in town thought Sebastian was my married boyfriend? Who knew what anyone would make of such an act of vandalism.
“It’s bad karma.” This was Mom’s equivalent to “It’s not your fault.”
“I’ve done nothing to earn bad karma. I’m trying to help people.” I sank into a nest of pillows by the children’s book area of The Pony. Leafing through a stack of pony-themed board books, I felt almost like a child again.
The bell tinkled over the front door and I slunk lower into the pillows. Sebastian and Dad walked inside. My parents disappeared, and Sebastian joined me on the floor.
“Nice ride.” I guessed the pictures I sent hadn’t done it justice. The poor little cart was one of those things a person needed to see to fully appreciate. Sebastian joined me on the floor. My parents disappeared. “Your ex stopped up to see you last night. I’m not sure he’s convinced he’s your ex.”
“I heard.”
Sebastian’s face blanked. “When?”
“He made me breakfast.”
His teeth ground together. The muscles in his jaw worked. His eye twitched.
“He didn’t sleep over. He was in the kitchen when I woke up. I thought he was an intruder.” Explaining myself bothered me even more than checking in with him. This situation wasn’t working for me. The days when I made my own schedule with nary a thought of death seemed long past instead of just last week.
His shoulders relaxed. “I mean, if he did, that’s fine.”
Fine? That made me mad, too. I must’ve looked like I felt because he began to fumble.
“It’s not fine. Or, fine to you, not to me.” He cleared his throat, inhaled deeply and locked eyes with me. “You should be happy. I’m not here to tell you who to spend your time with. That sounds exhausting.” His eyes looked wild, but somehow he concealed emotion like I concealed cellulite. “I came here to help you clear your ex of a crime, and then people started shooting at you. Now it isn’t about him anymore, but he’s still in the picture? Inconceivable.” He shifted on the pillows, looking frustrated. “This is crazy. Right?”
I loved that he used the word inconceivable. It had been one of my favorite words since I watched The Princess Bride in kindergarten. “What do you mean? This isn’t how it usually goes when you start seeing someone?”
His cheek lifted with the hint of a smile.
Crap. Did I say we were seeing each other? Were we seeing each other? We weren’t. Were we?
“All fixed.” Dad dusted his palms together, returning from outside.
I scurried to the door. “Oh. No.” I shoved my way out into the sunlight, letting the door slap shut behind me. Dad had painted giant ovals and polka dots over the letters in a dark shade of hot pink.
“What do you think, Peepee? Pink’s still your favorite color, right? Everyone likes polka dots.”
“It looks like my sister’s old lava lamp.” Sebastian smiled at Dad.
“Yep.” I marched back into the store, passing Dad and Sebastian. “Mom!”
Mom popped her head out from the back room.
“I’m going to ride home with Sebastian.” I’d had enough of the golf cart.
I turned back toward the door. Sebastian and Dad stood side by side. They looked out at the harbor, arms folded over their chests, neither of them speaking. Next to Sebastian, Dad looked like a Care Bear. Dad trusted everyone. Sebastian trusted no one. Dad wore shirts to protest war and support PETA. Sebastian wore jackets to cover his Glock.
I never had to worry about my parents being too tough on a new guy before. They liked and approved of everyone, but Sebastian was the first true stranger I’d ever brought home to meet them. It was a little late to be nervous, considering we’d shacked up a week ago, but a hoard of butterflies invaded my stomach anyway.
“You coming out, Peepee?” Dad pulled the door wide.
I’d stopped mid-push.
Sebastian furrowed his brow. “You all right?”
“Hot. I think. Tired.” Crazy-sexy and apparently sixteen again. “Can I ride with you?” I waved toward the cart by way of explanation.
Sebastian tilted his head to the Range Rover and swung the passenger door open for me. I kissed Dad’s cheek good-bye and climbed in. We went straight to Adrian’s house. After he’d checked every room thoroughly, Sebastian turned to me. “I get the feeling Adrian has your place bugged. I don’t know how he gets in or out, either. How about we stay here awhile? I’ll make dinner and hang out with you until dark.”
“I’ll make dinner.” While I worked in the grand kitchen, I cooked up a plan. As much as I enjoyed Sebastian’s company and appreciated his protection, I had something I wanted to do alone.
“Can you believe this place?” Sebastian straddled a stool at the kitchen island. “How can he afford it? He doesn’t seem to have a job.”
“You don’t need a job if you have a trust fund. Besides, he’s had four years since he finished his MBA to rack up savings.”
“No school loans?” Sebastian tapped his fingers against the marble island top.
“Nope.” Unlike me. I had a ton of student loans. I’d insisted on paying my own way when my parents offered, and partial scholarships only go so far.
“Adrian’s family’s been on the island forever. I think his ancestors crashed here on a boat from Spain and stayed. They’re like royalty here.”
“He doesn’t look Hispanic.”
I shrugged. “I don’t look Italian, but my mom’s dad came over from Italy.”
He nodded. “His mom owns the tanning salon?”
“She really likes a good tan.”
“A tanning salon on an island doesn’t seem like a big moneymaker.” Sebastian snorted.
“The Davises are shellfish farmers. They have been for generations. Their stuff is sold in every grocery chain in the country.”
“Shellfish.” He released a little laugh and joined me at the stove. “What do you have going over here?” He stopped behind me. “This is grilled cheese.”
“I’m not a great cook.” I never had time to learn and frankly, my appetite waned by the day.
“I love grilled cheese.” Sebastian’s voice had a smile in it. He opened cupboards until he found two plates, and I dished up the sandwiches.
“No, you don’t. I should’ve made something better.” My shoulders slumped. My heart wasn’t into playing hostess. Life was too complicated and I was in a hurry.
He carried our plates to the island and we ate in companionable silence. Sebastian never wasted words. Quiet people used to make me nervous. Lately I found a new appreciation for being still.
“Are you sure you’re comfortable here alone?” he asked. He carried our empty dishes, washed them and set them in the rack to dry.
“I’m fine. Really.” I hoped he believed me. I hadn’t fully convinced myself yet.
Sebastian took another trip around the house, peeking into doors and listening, as if someone could sneak inside without him knowing.
“Yeah. I’m okay. Thank you for staying at my place, and for looking after me. I know you have your own things to deal with.”
He returned to the kitchen and stepped into my personal space.
“I’m glad to be here.” His eyes bore into mine.
My craning neck ached from looking up at him. My mind went blank.
�
�I’ll come back in the morning.” He slipped his arms around my waist and pulled me to his chest. I pressed one cheek against his shirt and relaxed into the embrace.
“Stay inside. Don’t open the door for strangers. Call me if you need anything, if you hear or see something unusual, or just get nervous and want company. Anything. Understand?”
I nodded against his shirt because I could only agree to some of his requests. If I made eye contact during a lie, even a partial one, I was toast.
He pressed his lips to my head and let himself out the side door. I locked up behind him and watched his taillights disappear. The minute he was out of sight, I went to change. I packed a gym bag I found in Adrian’s closet and tossed in some things I might need. Ready for reconnaissance, I headed to the garage. Just as I hoped, two black and yellow oars hung on the wall. I pulled them down and looked for the dingy. No dingy. He did, however, have a kayak.
I hated kayaking. The feeling of being pinned into a little boat freaked me out. I walked down the hill outside to the marsh. Probably he left his dingy tied to the dock in the summer. A spiderweb wrapped around my face about two steps into the trees outside his house.
Bleck. I spat it out and wiped my eyes free of the silk. My head itched the rest of the way to the dock. No dingy. Stupid Adrian and his dumb kayak fetish. I hiked back up the hill to the garage and pulled the kayak off the wall. For crying out loud. I’d never had to drag one, plus an oar, down a hill. I left the second oar in the garage. By the time I got the boat in the water, I was ready to call it a night. I slid my cell into a Ziploc bag and left the rest of my supplies on the dock. Nowhere to carry a gym bag in a kayak. Dangling binoculars around my neck and checking for killers, I eased down into the seat.
I took the causeway around the marsh to the national shoreline, past the beach and out to where Adrian told me Perkins used to fish. I wasn’t sure what I expected to find, but I wanted to see the location someone paid thousands to pollute. Maybe I’d see fish floating belly-up or wildlife in need of rescue. I paddled faster toward the old Saturday night spot. I knew the place well—a clearing in the woods with room for private parties at the shoreline that parents didn’t know about. Many of my Saturday night memories started there. A lot of broken promises haunted that hunk of sand, along with a few broken hearts.
When the clouds moved away, the moon was full. Its reflection rippled over the water’s surface. I relaxed and inhaled. I snapped a picture for Claire with my phone, but it didn’t turn out. Phone pictures never did scenery justice. I slid the phone back inside the bag and almost lost my oar.
In the darkness, a large ship motored past me and slowed. The wake bobbed me around like a human buoy. I tried the binoculars to see who it was. Thanks to the moonlight, I glimpsed shady images of people moving around on deck. Finally, luck was on my side. I had only intended to scope out the area and reminisce, but if this was the boat in question, I could get some answers. I placed the Ziploc bag in my lap and paddled slowly toward the boat, careful to keep my distance and stay in the ship’s shadow.
The sleek white vessel looked closer to a yacht than a fishing boat. I imagined a private party on board with no idea that someone dumped who-knows-what in the same spot. I stretched my phone out in front of me to capture the boat name and numbers, just in case. I clicked, and my flash lit up the night.
SPLASH.
Whoa. The kayak jerked and bobbed beneath me. Someone had dropped a giant barrel right past my head into the water.
“What was that?” Men’s voices swirled above me as footfalls pounded the deck overhead. I grabbed the oar and paddled for my life into the dark, away from the boat.
“There. Look there! Who’s out there?” The voice seethed, gravelly and adamant. I kept my eyes on the moon’s reflection on the water ahead of me.
“Get the light.”
Crap. My arms burned from effort. I prayed their flashlight beam couldn’t reach me. The ocean lit up. A giant spotlight trained on the back of my head cast a shadow of me onto the water ahead. Who were these people?
Bang! Bang! Bang! Split. Splat. Split. Splat.
Tiny splashes rained down around me. A shower of bullets hit the tail of Adrian’s stupid yellow kayak, and I capsized.
“Eep!” I squealed and crashed face-first into the ominous darkness.
Chapter Seventeen
I needed air. I had lungs like a mermaid, but I wasn’t one. Turning to my side as the surface broke over me, I inhaled and dove again, focusing my efforts on getting far away from the kayak, which they’d surely come looking for.
The shots ended, but the spotlight was going strong. Gaining on me. The light moved steady through the water. My kayak was either farther now than the boat, or it had already sunk. The fast-approaching boat scanned the shoreline. I mentally rolled my eyes. For once my horrible sense of direction came in handy. Someone drowning would head for shore. Unless they thought they were heading for shore while in fact they were headed out to sea. Like me.
Several minutes in, my limbs began to burn from effort and fear. Treading water in the dark ocean while a giant boat looked for me with a spotlight made the simple exercise excruciating. Not to mention, I had no idea how long I’d been stuck in the water, or how much longer I would be. The boat trolled back and forth, spotlight trained against the shallow waters and beach. Somewhere, at the bottom of the ocean, my cell phone sat protected in a Ziploc bag.
The boat changed direction once more and made a pass so close to me the waves sent out from it slapped me in the face. On instinct, I ducked beneath the water and swam in the opposite direction of the boat. Release stretched over my arms and legs at the opportunity to swim again. Treading was tiresome. When I broke the surface gingerly after swimming about fifty yards, the boat was gone. Before I could spend too much time wondering how soon it might return, I dove again and swam for shore. My freestyle was quick, but beneath the surface, I was a bullet.
When my fingers dusted the soft sand, I knew I was close. Barely onto the mushy sandbar near the marsh, a light flooded overhead. Profanity I hadn’t used since high school poured over my lips. All the while, my feet got busy carrying me away into the cattails and grasses ahead. Lucky for me the wind kicked up, hopefully disguising my flight through the reeds.
“Frick!” My left foot slid in muck, which felt suspiciously like manure. I slipped onto my knees. The warm squish encased my favorite old Chuck and sucked it off. I pulled my foot free to find it naked. Of all the ridiculous... The light slid over my head in the weeds. Shoe forgotten, my body flew forward in a full-out sprint until every new breath burned like knives in my sides and down my throat.
The forest at night had always looked ominous. Shadows rose and towered around me in every direction. Crickets chirped wildly and bullfrogs moaned near the marsh. My breath caught in my throat at every screech of an owl or scurry of night creature feet. The shine of tiny eyes came and went in the distance. Raccoons? Possums? Deer? Thankfully all were too small to be ponies. I’d feared the forest at night for as long as I could remember. I’d never have believed it would one day be my sanctuary.
I rested against a large tree, concentrating on my breathing and taking bodily inventory. All the necessary appendages were accounted for. Next, I tried to acclimate myself. The full moon hid behind the canopy of trees overhead, making it impossible to get a good idea of where I came out of the water, or which way was town. Gnarled, drooping branches morphed before me into silhouettes of creepy arms. I reached for my phone, only to remember its new home at the bottom of the ocean.
Back on my feet, I began hobbling forward, hoping to get eyes on the biggest landmark I could think of, the old lighthouse. The lighthouse had a well-trodden trail to the main road out of the national forest. If I could get there, I knew how to get anywhere else.
In the distance, hoofbeats pounded the forest floor. Ponies.
My heart jumped into my throat. I’d survived gunshots only to die at the hand of ponies. Owls screeched above me, adding urgency to my plight. Field mice scurried over the path ahead of me. An engine roared nearby, which, combined with the growing sound of the waves, let me know I was heading toward the national seashore and the road leading there from town. As much as I wanted away from the boat, the road would have people, park rangers at least.
“Patience!”
I stopped.
Silence.
Perhaps delirium was setting in. I began moving in search of the road back to town. My shoeless foot throbbed from my missteps on twigs hidden under leaves. Asphalt would feel like clouds underfoot compared to this.
“Patience!”
I froze, eyes closed to help me concentrate. No more stampeding horse sounds. No more engine noise. Murmuring hummed from the direction of the ocean. I opened my eyes and moved with caution toward the sound. Soon, red and blue lights floated overhead. Another engine approached. The sheriff?”
“Patience!”
“Sebastian?” He echoed my name, and I, his. The exchange lasted only a few moments before a light bounced toward me.
“Patience!” A mixture of alarm and relief swirled in the word. He hit me like a brick wall, lifting me into his arms as though I weighed no more than the flashlight that he dropped and left on the ground.
“Here!” he called. “She’s here!”
His embrace, wide and warm, formed a cocoon around me. He swept me into position like a parent used to carry a sleeping child.
Exhausted, I laid my cheek against his chest and lost my mind. Sobs racked my body. Frustration and anger threatened to set my hair on fire. I was not a damsel in distress.
Usually.
“Shh,” he whispered against the crown of my head. The sound soothed me back to reality. I needed to get a grip.
How did he keep walking so easily? My sopping wet clothes and shoe had to add ten pounds to my weight. He didn’t seem to notice.
Murder by the Seaside Page 19