I’ll Be Seeing U

by Dianne Castell

  “Now, Demar, please…”

  His muscles clenched in a furious climax, the pulsing waves fueled by hers, driving him into her again and again. She yelled his name as he ground into her one last time, reveling in the incredible moment, the sensation that went beyond the act of possessing the woman he loved, cherishing her more than life itself.

  He gasped for air, fire sizzling through his limbs, then lessening bit by bit. He collapsed onto her, his arms cushioning his weight from her, heartbeats still pounding in his head. “Damn, girl.”

  “Me too,” her words barely audible, her hair damp with perspiration. “I can’t move.”

  “If you wanted me to get up right now you’d need a crane.” He pulled in a few more breaths. “What you do to me is sinful. You make me lose my mind.”

  “Well, you kept part of it because you in the sack is an experience and a half.” Her arms folded across his back. “I care for you, Demar, and not just because of the incredible sex. I like being with you all the time.” Her warm palm cupped his chin and she brought his face to hers. “I have to know how you feel too. You told me but do you mean it—really mean it?”

  “I swear I do, Sally. There’s no one but you. Trust me on this, trust in what we have. Promise me you will, no matter what.”

  “I—”

  “Fuck.”

  “Good grief, I didn’t say anything yet. Give me a chance here.”

  “Someone’s knocking at the damn door. It could be important.”

  Her eyes widened. “And this isn’t?”

  He kissed her. “Yeah, it is but…Damn, there’s always a but.” He slid from her, disposed of the condom, pulled the curtain and peeked outside. “It’s Jett. I have to see what she wants. Stay here and keep quiet.”

  Sally bolted upright. “Excuse me?”

  Candlelight gave her breasts a warm glow that beckoned him to return to her right now…except Mimi and Bonnie depended on him. “Just sit there for a moment and—”

  “And you can go fuck yourself and the horse you rode in on, Demar Thacker.” She threw a pillow at him, then a handcuff, grazing his forehead.

  “Ah, babe, I—”

  “Damn you to hell!” She yanked off the covers and stood naked and mad and completely glorious. “I hope your dick rots and falls off.”

  Ouch! “Sally?”

  She grabbed her coat. “There’s a back stairway and I’ll find it and then you can screw around with your old partner till you drop dead.”

  “That’s not going to happen but I can’t tell you what’s going on and—”

  “Like I can’t see for myself? If that woman was carrying a sign that said Come screw me Demar she couldn’t be any more obvious.”

  Sally slipped on one heel, hopped on it as she slipped on the other.

  Naked and high heels suited her—hell, everything suited her, thought Demar. She tromped for the back entrance.

  Jett called, “Demar? Are you all right in there, sugar?” More knocking. “Is your headache better? I brought soup.”

  Sally mimicked in a high squeaky voice, “Oh, Demar, you big hunk of man, I brought soup.” She said, “Your woman’s calling.”

  He snagged Sally’s arm, turning her back to him. Their bodies tight together, he could feel the anger pouring off her in waves, and he hated it. “My woman’s right here in front of me.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that, big boy!” She yanked her arm away and thundered down the stairs.

  Chapter 12

  Quaid felt every cell in his body freeze in total fear as he zeroed in on Lawrence, bobbing in the waves. Quaid grabbed a buoy ring, tied the rope end to the railing, threw it overboard, then jumped into the water. A faint afternoon sun penetrated the thick clouds, and Quaid caught sight of Lawrence’s jacket and the self-activated flashing light attached to his vest. Thank God for that.

  Quaid swam for all he was worth, and Lawrence must have spied Quaid, too, and fought his way toward him. Swells broke over his head, the current pull in the wrong direction, taking Lawrence further away. Shit, damn, fuck! Quaid gritted his teeth and pulled harder, Lawrence seeming to do the same, till Quaid reached out, snagged the jacket and hauled Lawrence to him.

  “Grab my neck.”

  “Broke my arm.”

  Quaid put Lawrence in front of him, face to face, cradling his arm between their bodies. “Hold onto me with your good arm.” This way Lawrence couldn’t slip away from him.

  Quaid took off for the white buoy in a breaststroke; he kept losing the ring in the swells till a spotlight landed on it, picking it out of the darkness. Cynthia! God bless this woman!

  He swam toward the disk rolling in the waves, and finally hooked his arm into the buoy. At least now they wouldn’t be separated from the tow, his biggest fear. He looped Lawrence’s good arm through the ring too, then pushed them to the side of the tow. He snagged Lawrence around the thighs. “I’m going to hoist you up. Grab hold with your good arm and I’ll push you from behind.”

  Lawrence nodded and Quaid held onto the buoy for leverage and lifted Lawrence. “You can do it, champ. Step on my leg.” He raised his knee and felt Lawrence’s foot come down on it. Quaid grabbed the leg and heaved Lawrence up; with his other hand on Lawrence’s butt he gave one last boost up.

  Lawrence disappeared over the top and Quaid went weak with relief. He stretched as far as he could, the tow dipping down cracking him in the side, but allowing him to snag the bottom of the railing. He pulled himself up the rest of the way, Lawrence tugging at his jacket, trying to help. Great kid. Quaid sat down and braced his legs against the railing to keep from falling back into the water. He lifted Lawrence into his lap, realizing he’d never felt anything more reassuring in his life. He took off his life jacket then stripped off his shirt. He laid Lawrence’s arm across the middle. “Does it hurt?”

  “A little.” Lawrence touched Quaid’s forehead. “You’re bleeding.”

  “A scratch.” He tied the arms of the shirt together around Lawrence’s neck, making a sling. “You are one brave-ass kid.”

  Lawrence gave him a weak smile. “You are one brave-ass swimmer.”

  Quaid laughed, then held Lawrence close for a moment because he had the overwhelming need to. He wasn’t a praying kind of guy but some God somewhere had a hand in this and Quaid would be thankful till the day he died. He helped Lawrence up, then lifted him into his arms. “Let’s go find your mom. Every hair on her head must be gray by now.”

  “Yeah, and she’s going to be pissed.”

  Quaid thought of Cynthia and the gun. If she planned on shooting Aaron for threatening to take Lawrence, what did she have in store for Quaid for losing Lawrence in the Mississippi? Christ in a sidecar!

  Quaid rounded the bow. A light in the bottom quarters indicated the rescued men were obviously there. A part of him wanted to beat the crap out of them for not helping with Lawrence, but they were stupid beyond words. “Hold on to me with your good arm and I’ll get you up to your mom.”

  Lawrence was shaking, even though he smiled. Hypothermia was a real possibility. Quaid tore up the steps and yanked open the door. Cynthia’s face was white, her hand still grabbing the stick. “Okay?” Her voice was low but steady and it seemed to take all her energy to get out that one word.

  “One broken arm.”

  She nodded. “Okay.” But she still didn’t move, as if frozen in place. He set Lawrence on the captain’s chair and took the stick from Cynthia. He looked into her eyes, which weren’t focusing. “Get Lawrence out of those clothes, there’re dry shirts and towels in the cabinet. I’m going to get us to shore.”

  “Okay.” It seemed to be her word of choice at the moment, but then she grabbed Lawrence in a mama-bear hug and Quaid was sure she’d be fine. They would all be fine. The age of miracles was not dead.

  He checked in with the Coast Guard, giving them an update on the situation, then radioed the Memphis terminal dock that he was headed their way with a boat in tow. He requested assis
tance in docking it, and an ambulance to be waiting for Lawrence.

  “An ambulance?” Lawrence said, his voice stronger than before. “Wait till I tell the kids back home about all this.”

  Cynthia added, “That you lived to tell about it is the important part.”

  She sounded stronger too, beyond monosyllables. A towel hit his head and a shirt landed on his shoulder. He dried off his face and draped the towel around his neck. “Thanks.”

  “That’s just a hint of what’s to come.”

  He glanced back but Cynthia was busy taking care of Lawrence. Quaid turned to port and revved the engine, the abandoned Sea Ray bobbing at the side but riding lower now, as she had obviously taken on more water. He entered the channel to the terminal, slowing his speed to no-wake, keeping red channel markers to starboard. He came about to port, killed the engine and glided neatly into position at the dock like he’d done a thousand times before.

  Two men jumped on board, securing lines. The ambulance strobe lights gave the rain-soaked docks an eerie quality. Two paramedics hustled onto the deck. Quaid opened the door for the EMS people, then stepped outside. The rain wasn’t as bad in the terminal, the building cutting the wind shears.

  He clambered down the steps and went into the cabin on the main deck, but no one was there. He asked at the dock, and all anyone had seen was two guys hurrying off into the terminal. He didn’t even know who the boat belonged to. Why would someone leave an expensive boat like the Sea Ray without taking care of it?

  Quaid watched the paramedics bundle Lawrence and Cynthia into the ambulance and drive off. He called Rory to let him know the Annabelle Lee wasn’t at the bottom of the Mississippi. He squared things with the dock master, made arrangements to tow the Sea Ray back to the Landing, since no one else knew what to do with it, went back on board the Lee and secured everything, changed into dry clothes, then he and Max hitched a ride in a police cruiser to the hospital. Rough day, but he knew it was nothing compared to the grief Cynthia Landon would heap on him once they met up.

  Leaving Max under the covered receiving area, Quaid went in the emergency entrance. He spotted Cynthia pacing in front of the double doors marked No Admittance. She looked up at him, furor in her eyes. He slowed. “I’m sorry, I really am. I had no—”

  “He threw me out.”

  “The doctor threw you out? What did you do?”

  “Not the doctor, Lawrence. He said I was…hovering.”

  Quaid folded his arms and rocked back on his heels. “No! You?”

  She leveled him a hard look through squinty eyes. “And you are on very thin ice. Do not push your luck, O’Fallon.”

  “It’s not like I planned that storm.”

  “I know that but…” Her voice trailed off as Lawrence came into view, camouflage-patterned cast on his arm, the doctor trailing behind looking a little frazzled. Lawrence beamed. “I think I want to be an orthopedic surgeon.” He looked to Quaid. “That’s during the week. On weekends I want to be a tow captain.” He pointed to a technician with phlebotomist on her ID tag. “I’m going to go talk to her.”

  Lawrence walked off and the doctor raised a brow. “He made me tell him everything I did. If he doesn’t do med school he’ll make one hell of a lawyer.” He looked at Quaid. “I think the captain part’s a for sure. He thinks you’re God.” He studied Quaid closer. “Nasty cut, son. You need stitches. Why are you holding your side?” He touched Quaid’s rib and he flinched. “Looks like you broke a rib or two, or at least bruised it. I should take a look.”

  “I’m fine, I’m fine. Hospitals aren’t really my thing. I’ll be okay.”

  The doctor added, “Word has it that you pulled two people off a sinking boat and saved Lawrence, who the Coast Guard has nicknamed Lucky since you found him in the storm from hell and you both made it out alive. I should check you over.”

  “I’m going home now.” He turned and ran smack into Cynthia, arms folded, eyes glaring. “Go with the doctor.”

  “No way.”

  She took a step toward him and he took a step back. He never stepped back. “Yes.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

  “Later,” she whispered back, knocking the air right out of his lungs and looking as if she surprised herself as much as him.

  The doctor laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes. You’re coming with me. You two can work out the conditions later.” He said to Cynthia, “It’ll be a few minutes, why don’t you grab a bite to eat.”

  By the time Quaid was finished getting stitched up he was edgier than ever over this whole situation. Some things didn’t fit, like the owners of the boat not hanging around, and then there was Cynthia’s comment about later that completely undid him. Did she mean it? Why wasn’t she furious at him? If he lived to be a million he’d never figure out women and their thought processes. Then again did they really have a thought process? He wasn’t sure but he wasn’t about to bring up the subject any time soon, he was in enough hot water.

  In the waiting room, Quaid found Rory sitting next to Cynthia. He walked over, shaking his head, relief in his eyes, a grin on his face. “I ask you to take one little propeller and engine parts downriver while I take a run upriver, and what happens? You wind up fishing folks out of the drink again. I think the story even made the newspapers.”

  “Ryan and Keefe are never going to let me hear the end of this.”

  “Needling is what brothers do best. Publicity hound comes to mind.”

  Cynthia tore Lawrence away from the technician, who looked bleary eyed from answering questions. The rain had slacked off to a drizzle as they drove home, Max in back, Cynthia in the second seat of the Suburban, Lawrence asleep, his head on her lap, Quaid in the front with his dad. They pulled into Ivy Acres and Rory said to Cynthia, “I’ll carry Lawrence upstairs for you. He’s getting to be a big boy, and Quaid should give that cracked rib a rest.”

  Quaid rolled his eyes, knowing Rory was teasing him but also knowing it was true. Truth be told, he was tired to the bone. All he wanted was a hot shower, food and bed. He turned in the seat to face Cynthia and she gave him a tired smile and a little nod that suggested she wasn’t about to shoot him dead just yet. No matter what happened between them in the future, they knew they could always count on each other. She was a lot stronger, braver, tougher than most people realized…including him.

  He closed his eyes and waited for Rory to return, even dozed off for a moment. What was taking Rory so long? Quaid was ready to go into the house when Rory came through the door and got into the car.

  Instead of turning the ignition he turned to Quaid, looking serious as hell. Quaid rubbed his sore side. “You got that look, what the hell’s going on now?”

  “You better spend the night here. There’s been a development. Lawrence wants me to tell you that he recognized those guys who you took off the Sea Ray.”

  Quaid was instantly awake. “He knew them?”

  “Seems they’re the guys in the pictures Preston’s been showing around, the two missing presidents from River Environs.”

  Quaid bolted upright. “Holy shit. I didn’t get a good look at them in the storm. Is Lawrence sure?” He gave a half smile. “Stupid question.”

  “That kid’s got a memory that won’t quit. He’s sure about everything. And he didn’t fall off that tow, one of the guys pushed him in when he realized Lawrence recognized him. He shoved him into the railing first and that’s how Lawrence broke his arm.”

  Rory shook his head. “He’s scared. Guess his dad showed up today and that didn’t go well, then he runs into all this. Hell of a day for an eight-year-old kid.”

  “Hell of a day for anybody. Bottom line is, I just risked Cynthia and Lawrence to rescue the two men who would like nothing more than to wipe your fiancée off the face of the earth. Christ in a side car!”

  “That’s my expression, you’ll have to find your own.”

  Quaid slammed his hand against the dashboard. “I don’t fucking bel
ieve this.”

  “My guess is they knew we were watching for them on the roads and they were coming to the Landing—”

  “By boat.”

  “Do you think they know where Mimi is?”

  “I think they know she’s around here somewhere.”

  “They used the storm as cover to get here. Then it got worse than they expected, the Sea Ray broke down and I was making that delivery and our paths crossed.”

  Rory shook his head. “I thought about that, too much of a coincidence that they happened to be coming to the Landing while we were all three away.”

  “Ryan too?”

  “In Memphis scoping out an office. Somebody knew and tipped off those guys that today was a good one to come poke around.”

  “Who?”

  “That’s the sixty-four dollar question, isn’t it?”

  “Cynthia stopped at Slim’s for food before we shoved off. If she told Sally…”

  “Everyone would have known we were all gone.”

  “Now we get to find these guys all over again and figure out who’s the leak.” Quaid rubbed his ribs. “To think I had them right there.” He pointed to the middle of his hand.

  “But we know they are definitely headed here, we just have to figure out where they are now. And, I’m suspecting the third member of their little party, that finance guy, is already at the Landing.”

  Quaid’s gaze met Rory’s. “That’s who tipped them off.”

  “And Ida has that new boyfriend, Beau Fontaine. Preston said he couldn’t find anything on him in Charleston. We’ll keep an eye on him but we don’t want to give ourselves away that we’re on to him. We need all three of the guys or Mimi will never be safe.”

  Quaid raked his hair. “They have to know Lawrence already told someone who they were. Too bad he didn’t tell me before we docked.”

  “He was in shock with all that happened and it was probably good that you didn’t know. If you confronted them it could have gotten ugly on the Annabelle Lee and you had Lawrence and Cynthia to worry about. Probably best it happened the way it did. We’ll find these guys, we’re getting closer.”