Secrets Among the Cedars (Intertwined Book 2)

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Secrets Among the Cedars (Intertwined Book 2) Page 8

by Johnson, Sherri Wilson


  His phone buzzed again, and he groaned.

  "You can get that if you need to. It must be important."

  He puffed. "I'm sorry." He picked up the phone and hit the answer button. "What's up?" he barked. Phil massaged the back of his neck again and looked out into the darkening sky as he listened to the caller. "Um, I'm not at home."

  After a moment, he stood and paced around the dock. The wind was violent, but Kathryn was able to catch most of his words. "Why do you want to know where I am?" He paced like a caged lion. Then he leaned on the rail and buried his head in his left hand.

  Whoever was on the other end of that call was obviously someone he didn't want to talk to. If Phil was a dog, his hackles would be raised by now. Kathryn scraped the last bite of her ice cream out of her Styrofoam cup and tried to focus on the final glimmer of sun going down, the pink and orange sky displaying God's glory. He must care about the world to create such splendor.

  Phil shoved his phone into his pocket and plopped down next to Kathryn.

  "Is everything okay?"

  "Not really. That was my cousin, Drew. He's here in Cedar Key and looking for me."

  That couldn’t be good for either one of them. "What did you tell him?"

  "That I wasn't home. I've got to stall him until we can get out there to the shack."

  Chapter Nine

  Kathryn paced in front of the sliding glass door, wearing a groove in the peacock-colored shag area rug and waited for Phil to pull up at her dock. What was taking him so long? He'd walked home to get his boat an hour ago, and he should've been back fifteen minutes ago.

  Phil had spent the rest of the night in the spare bedroom to avoid running into Drew after Kathryn had taken him home and they'd discovered his Mercedes parked in his drive. Something must have happened to Phil. Had Drew taken him to Georgia to see Ezzo? Surely, he would've called to warn her. "Where are you, Phil?"

  Her phone chimed on the counter. She ran to retrieve it, tripped over Sadie, and stumbled into the edge of the glass coffee table. "Ouch!" She grabbed her shin and hopped the rest of the way to the kitchen. "That's going to make a terrible bruise, Sadie." She picked up the phone. A text from Phil waited for her in her messaging box.

  Kathryn, Drew is here. I'm trying to stall him and get to you as soon as I can. We have to get to the gun before he does. Be waiting. Phil

  Kathryn collapsed on the bar stool and dropped her phone to the counter. She buried her head in her trembling hands. This was like a mafia movie. How were they going to find the weapon before Drew got to it? He obviously knew where it was. Could her life be in danger for associating with Phil?

  She uncovered her face and slapped the top of her legs. How had she gotten herself into this mess? She needed protection. But who would protect her if Phil was unable to? What if Phil was a threat to her, after all?

  I will.

  Kathryn lifted her bowed head and turned it to both sides. Who said that? Great! Now she was hearing voices in her head.

  She needed a plan of action in case Phil didn't return to her—in case she couldn't trust him. Things like that always happened in John Grisham novels. She popped up off the stool and darted over to the phone directory on the foyer table. She flipped to the boat rental section. If she had to, she'd rent a boat herself and find the gun. Then she'd call D.A. Schwartz and tell him not to let Louie Ezzo out of jail. She'd contact the local police and have them arrest Drew, and maybe Phil, on suspicion of being connected with the murders.

  A beeping sound repeated several times out back. Kathryn ran to the back door. Phil was at the dock in his skiff, waving at her with both hands, like a hitchhiker trying to get a ride on the side of the road. She grabbed her cell phone and keys, locked the back door, and left without saying a word to Sadie.

  Kathryn ran across the tree-lined patio, branches whacking her in the face, and down the walkway to the dock, careful not to trip on the uneven boards. "Where've you been?" She took Phil's offered hand and jumped into the boat. "I was worried sick!"

  "I told you. Drew was at my house. He insisted on taking me to see Uncle Louie." Phil shoved the boat into gear, and Kathryn grabbed on to the rail. "I told him I had some business to attend to before I could consider going anywhere."

  "Phil, I'm scared. Are our lives in danger?" Kathryn yelled over the rushing wind.

  "I don't think so. At least I hope not."

  Kathryn's fear and anxiety churned her stomach into a mass of molten lava. She gripped the railing and braced herself for what they'd find at the old honeymoon shack. Her fear must've been painted across her face because Phil reached his arm around her and drew her to his side. She stepped closer to him and let his presence blanket her in security.

  The skiff bounced on the waves, and the waves reciprocated by pounding into it, splashing the sea onto Kathryn and Phil. The engine roared as Phil pressed the skiff to its maximum speed, begging the boat to take them to their destination with haste. Kathryn's heart pounded against her chest. The moment she'd waited for since she'd arrived Friday evening was finally here.

  "Phil," she yelled. "If we find the gun, we have to remember not to smudge the fingerprints."

  "I've got a plastic bag we can use to pick it up." He lowered the gear, and the skiff bumped along the waves, rocking them from side to side.

  Thunder rumbled and lightning clapped in the distance. Kathryn grabbed on to Phil's forearm with both of her hands. If it rained, they'd never be able to climb the rickety pylons to the remnants of the shack and find the gun.

  Phil pulled the skiff up to a pylon and tied a rope around it. "You stay here. I'm going to climb up and see if I can find the gun." He steadied himself as the boat rocked in the waves.

  "Let me go. I'm lighter than you, and I can probably climb easier." She stepped toward the edge of the skiff. Thunder rumbled again, and Kathryn lost her balance. She teetered on the edge of the boat and fell back onto the driver's seat. "Never mind. You go."

  Phil laughed. "Oh, so now it's okay for me to put my life at risk?"

  Kathryn covered her mouth with her hand and winced. If her choices were to stay in the safety of the boat or climb up what was left of the shack and possibly fall into the dark Gulf, she'd pick the safety of the boat. "Sorry. I'm more of a coward than I thought."

  Phil winked at her and hoisted his way up onto the post.

  "Be careful!"

  "I will." He found his footing and then pushed himself up to a strip of what must have previously been the floor of the shack.

  The skiff banged into the side of the pylon, and Kathryn squealed. What would she do if it turned over? What if Phil fell into the water? She turned to the back of the boat. Two lifejackets were pinned to the underneath of the bench seat. She rushed back there, put one of the lifejackets on, and then brought the other one to the front with her.

  A pelican balanced on one of the pylons and stalked Phil. Sea gulls and egrets soared in the increasing wind, and waves crashed against the boat and the shack. A dark cloud rolled in overhead, casting its gloom upon them.

  Kathryn cupped her hands around her mouth and screamed, "Do you see anything?"

  "No, nothing. There's nothing here."

  "Then come back down. I'm afraid we're going to get struck by lightning or that the boat is going to turn over." After another clap of lightning, the sky opened up, and rain poured down on them. Kathryn wrapped her arms around her waist and squeezed her eyes shut. This had to be the craziest stunt she'd ever allowed herself to be involved in. Finding the weapon was not worth risking her life—or Phil's. "Phil, please come back to the boat!"

  "I'm coming." Phil eased his foot off the top of the pylon, sending the pelican into the burgeoning storm.

  The boat slammed into the pylon, and Kathryn tumbled to the back. When she righted herself, Phil was nowhere. "Phil! Phil!" She slipped to the front of the boat and leaned over the edge.

  Phil reached his hand up out of the water. "Help me up!"

  Kathryn re
ached for the lifejacket, but it was floating away beyond the shack. The wind must have blown it out of the boat. "Hold on! I'll get you." She reached over the side of the boat as far as she could but couldn't get to his outstretched hand. "Reach, Phil!"

  Phil went under the water and crashed into the pylon. Then he popped up at the edge of the skiff. Kathryn reached again and grabbed him by the back of his T-shirt. She held on to the railing and pulled on Phil until it felt like she would go overboard too. She groaned and tugged with all her might using every bit of strength she had in her.

  Phil coughed and gagged then grasped on to Kathryn's arms. She yanked, and he pulled, and finally they got him back into the boat. They fell to the back, saturated from the rain, gasping for air.

  "Thank. You. Kathryn." Phil coughed and sucked in as much air as would fit into his lungs.

  "You're welcome, but don't ever do that again.” She beat at his chest. “I thought you were a goner."

  "I almost was." Phil pushed himself to his feet and offered Kathryn his hand. He helped her to the bench. "Sit here. I'm going to get us out of this storm."

  #

  Kathryn handed Phil a towel and went into the kitchen to brew some coffee. Sadie sat at Phil's feet. "What about your cell phone? Did you have it on you?"

  "No, it was in the boat's glove compartment. I've learned my lesson about having my phone on me when I'm around water."

  "Smart move." She slipped the single-serve cup into the slot, shut the lid, and pressed the brew button. "If you falling in and the boat crashing against the pier hadn't been such a scary experience, it'd kind of be comical."

  Phil towel-dried his hair and tossed the towel on the coffee table. "I say we go ahead and laugh about it because if we get distraught, it's just going to make things worse.”

  “I’m glad you were the one who climbed up there because if I had fallen into that water, I’d probably have had a heart attack before you could’ve rescued me.”

  “Not true because I would’ve jumped in as soon as your body hit the water.”

  She pinched his beardless cheek. “Aww, thanks.”

  “Let's not waste anymore of our time thinking about my near drowning or the case today."

  Kathryn propped her hand on her hip. "How do you propose we do that with your cousin lurking around Cedar Key?"

  "I'm going to go home and take a shower then take you for breakfast."

  "It's almost lunch time." Kathryn laughed, letting the aroma of the Columbian roast ease her stress.

  "Okay, we'll go for lunch." Phil punctuated his sentence with the waving of his hands.

  If he insisted on persuading her, Kathryn would share a table with him again. She giggled under her breath. Who was she trying to fool? It wouldn't take any persuading at all. "Lunch sounds good. I still don't see how you can just push the case aside completely. We've hit one big dead end after another. I can't believe the gun wasn't at the shack."

  "It may have been at some point. Someone may have gotten to it before we did since you were asking questions about it. Or it could've gotten knocked off by a bird or a storm."

  "You know that means your uncle is not going to go down for murder if he’s guilty."

  "I refuse to believe that. All we need to do is find somebody who knows what happened."

  "You make it sound so easy. Since I no longer have access to the information, and you don't want to defend him, I don't see how we can get our hands on any more evidence."

  "You're right." He accepted the red-and-white lighthouse adorned mug from Kathryn.

  She sat next to him on the sofa with her mug in her hand.

  Phil stared into her eyes and drank from his cup. "This is good!"

  She smiled at his compliment. Oh, to forget all about the case right now and focus on what was happening between them—but her mind couldn't let it go. Too much hinged on this case. She blew on her coffee and sipped its richness.

  "Kathryn, why do you care so much?"

  The way he said her name, it sounded smooth like honeysuckle dripping off the vine. She could sit and listen to him say it a million times and never tire of it.

  "Kathryn?"

  She cleared her throat. "I told you. I'll never get another chance at a case like this."

  "So?"

  "So…my career will be over."

  "And?"

  Kathryn huffed, "And I’ll be unemployed, for one reason, but I’ll also let a lot of people down if I fail at this."

  "Like who?"

  "You're nosey, aren't you?"

  "When I have to be. I know there's something you're not telling me."

  Kathryn took a long sip of her coffee and placed the mug on the coffee table. She wasn’t used to revealing so much of her heart to people she barely knew, but it felt like she’d known Phil for a lifetime already. "My father wants me to be a Supreme Court Justice. So much so that he almost convinced my mom to name me Justice when I was born."

  "Seriously? Then you would’ve been Supreme Court Justice Justice. I’m sure you’d have gotten a lot of snickers with that."

  "Exactly!" She rolled her eyes. "Nothing wrong with being named Justice as long as your occupation isn’t being a justice in the Supreme Court system. In order to get there though, regardless of my name, I have to be a judge first. In order to be a judge, I have to become District Attorney. My county is small and is run judicially mostly by men. They're all good old boys. It takes a lot of work to get their approval. This case could get me closer to my goal."

  "You mean your dad's goal." He touched her knee with the lightness of a butterfly's wings, leaving behind a sensation that left Kathryn breathless.

  She shrugged. "True."

  "Is that what you want?"

  "I don't know anymore. But if not this, I'm not sure what I'd do."

  They lingered over their coffee and watched the pelicans and seagulls soar outside in the post-storm afternoon heat. Sadie tapped her tail on the floor and pinned her ears back every time a bird swooped in front of the door. Phil stretched out his legs, letting his thigh rest against Kathryn's thigh. Could she believe this meant something? That he was interested in her. Could it be possible?

  "Do you know the whole story about why Maria found someone to replace me? My best friend, at that?"

  Kathryn grimaced. "Great subject change.”

  “Sorry. Do you?”

  “No, but do I want to know? That's part of your past, and it's private."

  "I want to tell you." He turned toward her, placing his mug on the coffee table.

  "Okay." Kathryn changed her position and faced him.

  “Unless you don’t want to hear.”

  “No, I’d love to know what happened.”

  "Promise not to laugh."

  Kathryn raised her right eyebrow. "I can promise, but since you've already broken that promise to me twice…" She twirled a tendril of hair and stared out the window.

  He bent his neck until he captured her gaze with his. "All right, all right. Guilty as charged."

  Kathryn patted his knee. "I promise not to laugh."

  "Maria wanted to be more physical than I wanted to be. I know that sounds like I'm some kind of freak or something, but I was trying to do things differently than the men in my family. I didn’t want any unplanned children, and I didn’t want there to be deep scars if we didn’t make it, the kind you get when you’re physically attached to someone. Apparently she wasn't willing to wait."

  "Yeah, well, that doesn't make you a freak. It makes you admirable. It shows you respected her even if she didn’t respect herself. For the record, I didn’t know any of that. I just always assumed y’all were…involved.”

  “I think a lot of people thought that. Maria liked it that way.”

  “That’s kind of how things happened with me and Zeke. He did a lot of unwarranted talking. I probably wasn't as chaste as you were, but I'd been raised pretty conservatively and wanted to keep my reputation clean, so I wouldn't move in with him when he asked
me to and wouldn't spend the night. As a side note, my dad was cheating on my mom the whole time he was telling me to remember that people were watching me and that I'd better live an upright life."

  "Crazy."

  "I know. Such a hypocrite. I thought I'd marry Zeke, but he wanted to test drive the car first, so we were at an impasse. He was too busy being a playboy to realize how much I cared for him. When we broke up, he moved in with a friend of mine a few weeks later, and I pretty much swore off men."

  "So we've both had the same situation happen to us. Has it made you reluctant to get involved again?"

  "You have no idea. I figure all men must be cheaters, so I'm better off focusing on my career." Kathryn raised her eyebrows and shook her head. She'd succeeded at everything but love. Phil waited for her to continue, seeming to take everything she said in seriousness. "I'm not good at relationships. I fell in love in high school, or thought I did, and that ended poorly like most high school relationships do. I fell in love again in college, and that was a disaster because he wanted me to put him through med school and promised to put me through law school after he graduated but had no plans of marriage in his future. I knew that would end one-sided, leaving me without a ring on my finger and no law school while he had trysts with nurses in the hospital.”

  “Yeah, it wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened.”

  “See, you see my side of things. Thank you for that. When I got to law school, I met Zeke. I didn't know how to have a successful relationship because I'd never seen it modeled before. I saw too many of my friends fall in love with the wrong person—or be the wrong person, like Maria. With the way my parents' hypocritical relationship was, and the way things turned out with Zeke, I figure I'm not going to be any good at it for a long time."

  "I'm not a gambling man, but I'll bet that's not true."

  Chapter Ten

  Phil pulled away from the dock at Kathryn's rental condo, as she waved at him from the porch. Lunch had possessed a different flavor than their lunch on either Saturday or Sunday. How in just two days had they formed a bond that felt like they'd known each other their entire lives? They couldn't be more different. She, the Southern belle of the courtroom. He, the runaway attorney whose voice reverberated like a cymbal.

 

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