The streetlights were out and she hadn’t seen another car on the road since she drove into town, except the cop’s jeep, of course. She turned the corner in the direction of her father’s house. Instantly it felt like she was driving in a wind tunnel as blustering winds rushed her from all directions. At least she was off the main highway and away from police cars.
With that thought, she began thinking of the officer who had stopped her earlier. His expression had been curious. When she looked up at him his eyes had seemed to widen in surprise. If she didn’t know any better, she would have said that he knew her. He did look somehow familiar…But that was impossible. She didn’t really know anybody here anymore.
A heavy wind shook the car and brought her back to her current reality. The storm was definitely getting worse. There were fallen branches and windblown debris everywhere. Buildings were haphazardly boarded, with the eerie howling winds and horizontal rain, the area looked like a ghost town.
A strong wind pushed the car into a gutter-side puddle. She lost control and felt the car hydroplaning in water much deeper than she anticipated. Mia grasped the steering wheel and held tight. She allowed the car to come to an almost stop before braking then reaffirming control. She needed to focus on getting to her father’s house now.
But her nervousness intensified as she drove through town. Near panic, she felt as if a noose had been tied around her throat. The puddles were too deep, the rain too steady and the wind was ferocious. Having at times stayed with her mother in Boston, she was adept at driving in all kinds of weather, but this was insane. Then, moments later, she was off the main road and headed to the small area she knew like the back of her hand. She hadn’t been here in years, but thankfully it was still the same. She turned the radio on and scrolled through static until she found Terrence Jeffries again. “Okay, Holy Terror, get me out of this mess.” Jazz played as she drove through a darkened intersection of the now ghost town.
“I can do this, I can do this,” she muttered to herself, as the storm bore down around her and the winds, howling like a wounded creature, jostled the car again. At five-thirty it looked as if it was midnight. The dark gray sky had turned vicious. She gripped the steering wheel tighter, feeling the wind whip up again.
Few things unsettled Mia. That’s how her grandmother had raised her. Never lose your cool. Never show your anger. Never lose control. She reached back, remembering her grandmother’s words. Always, always, be in control. As she repeated the mantra and continued driving, till she suddenly saw flashing lights in the rearview mirror. “Crap.”
Rain spotted her face as soon as she rolled the window down. “Not again,” she breathed out exasperatedly, as she waited for the police officer to get to her car. The last thing she needed was an overzealous cop hassling her. “Yes, Officer,” she yelled over the wind’s roar as soon as he arrived. “What did I do this time? Break the speed limit, forget to put on my turn signal, not pause long enough at a yield?”
As soon as he saw her face, he knew it was her. But this wasn’t the place or the time to talk. He needed to get her off the road and out of this weather. “No, ma’am,” he said as calmly as possible. “I’m sorry, but for your safety, you’re gonna need to turn around and get to a shelter. I’ll escort you. Please turn and follow me.”
“But I’m almost there. I’m going to my father’s house and it’s just a few miles up the road. Once I get there I swear I’ll stay put until this is over. Just let me get to his place, okay?”
“Most residents have evacuated for their safety,” he said.
“Believe me, he’s still in the area,” she assured him. “If you’re concerned for my welfare then follow me to my dad’s house to make sure I get there safely.”
“Please follow me, ma’am.”
It was like he didn’t hear a word she said. “That’s not gonna happen, Officer. As I said before, I’m fine. So you can go play superhero and save somebody else,” she said, pressing the button to roll the window up again. She turned to face front and shifted gears to Drive, but stopped when she heard the tapping. She rolled the window down again. “Yes?”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist you follow me this time, ma’am.”
“Like I just said, that’s not gonna happen,” she defied.
“I think it will,” he affirmed, challenging her defiance.
She looked at him squarely. He returned her stare. It was just her luck to be stopped by a gorgeous cop with superhero issues. Apparently reasoning with him wasn’t going to work. “Look, alienating the local authority isn’t my intent, so don’t take this personally, but I’m not going to any shelter, now or ever.”
Stephen smirked. Stubborn and determined, she was so much like Leo it was amazing. “You will follow me to a shelter,” he said, just as determined.
“I’ll tell you what, you can consider yourself off the hook. If I kill myself out here, then it’s on me. So just let me go on my way.” The officer didn’t respond. He just stood there stoic. “We can argue this until the skies clear, but…”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, please follow me now,” he said firmly, then without waiting for her reply, turned and hurried back to his jeep.
“Not now. Not today of all days,” Stephen muttered, as he shook his head and headed back to the patrol jeep. “What is she doing here in the middle of a hurricane?” He had expected her to come eventually, but not in this.
This was all wrong. It was not how it was supposed to happen. He was going to get her down here, talk to her and then resolve his feelings one way or another. He needed her out of his system. This fantasized lovesick infatuation was disrupting his judgment and interfering with his life. He hoped that seeing her and talking to her would terminate his obsession. He needed to resolve his feelings for her, but right now he needed to get her to safety.
Mia rolled her window up and just sat there. She watched the rain continue pouring and the wipers splash back and forth. She’d spent over a dozen hours driving into a hurricane, only to find the county office closed, and now this. She was so close. Suddenly a barrage of thoughts came at her. She was always so close, but never quite there. She’d been so close to getting the position as department head, so close to getting married, so close to being happy, so close to fulfilling her dreams. But close just wasn’t good enough anymore.
The officer flashed his lights, then made a U-turn, expecting her to follow. She pulled out and drove down the road, not turning around. She glanced up, seeing him make another U-turn to follow her. “Sorry, Officer, I’m in control,” she said belligerently. “Fine, you can follow me all the way to my father’s house.”
In the rearview mirror she saw his jeep come closer. Then in an instant it vanished as part of a tree crashed behind her. She saw the jeep swerve then disappear off the road.
The crash was unmistakable. Whether her superhero cop survived was anybody’s call.
Chapter 4
“Oh my God, what have I done?” Mia jumped out of her car in a panic and ran to the side of the accident. She looked down the steep ridge in horror. The guardrail was completely sheared as the jeep had apparently slid down an embankment and was wedged against what was left of two fallen trees. It was smashed, dented and completely snarled by the impact. “Oh God, please don’t let him be dead, please don’t let him be dead,” she muttered a prayer as she searched for a path to get down to the wreck. “Officer, Officer, hello, can you hear me?” she yelled down at what was left of the police jeep. There was no answer.
“I killed him,” she muttered, feeling the tears of sorrowful guilt and frustration build inside of her. She knew this was her fault. Had she not been so stubborn and adamant about getting into town and then getting to the house, none of this would have happened. He would still be alive.
She started down the slippery slope. She stopped when she saw the door open and the police officer tumble out carrying a flashlight and a large bag. He looked dazed and dizzy as he got to his feet and began
climbing up.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” she yelled, seeing him struggling to get up the mucky embankment. His rain slicker was ripped and his clothes were muddy and saturated. “Hey, are you okay?” she repeated louder, reaching down to help him. “Grab my hand.”
“Get back in your car,” he ordered, motioning her away.
Ignoring his warnings, she started down the slope to help him. “I’m sorry. I just needed to get to my dad’s house. I know this is my fault. Here, let me help you.” She slipped as the mud beneath her feet gave way.
“No, go back,” he warned, seeing her regain her balance. “This whole area could flood and wash away, go get back in your car.”
“No, I can’t just get back in the car and leave you here like this. Come on, take my hand.”
“I’m fine,” he insisted, just before slipping down the muddy slope. She reached down to him, but he motioned her away again. “Get back in your car now.” He continued climbing until he neared the top of the slope. She grabbed his upper arm, but he winced and jerked away.
“At least give me the flashlight and bag. Come on, I’m only trying to help you up,” she said. He looked up at her, nodded, and then tossed the flashlight and bag. She caught them easily, put them aside then reached for him again.
She grabbed his hand as he reached for a tangle of roots. She felt him pull away from her again. There was a loud crack behind them. They turned and saw another huge branch fall onto the jeep. Losing his footing, he slid back down into the muddied trench.
“Will you let me help you now?” she yelled. He hesitated. “Come on, your jeep is under a tree and halfway down a ditch. It’s getting worse out here and we need to get inside now.”
He grabbed her hand and she pulled, helping him to the edge of the slope. They collapsed back into each other’s arms, him practically on top of her as they lay exhausted and breathless on the side of the road. They took faces full of lashing rain as gusting wind sheared through them, whipping her flimsy windbreaker and his uniform. “Come on.” They staggered to their feet, picked up the supplies and hurried to her car still idling a few yards away. “We need to get to a shelter,” he yelled above the high winds.
She turned, seeing there was no way they could get back the way they came. “The tree’s blocking the road. We can’t get through. We can go to my father’s house.” As soon as they got into her car, she sped away.
“What are you doing here?” he asked before thinking. “You’re not supposed to be here, not now.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know I’m stubborn. You told me to go back to the highway and I didn’t. I needed to see for myself that the clerk’s office was closed. But none of that matters now. We need to get out of this mess.”
That wasn’t what Stephen meant, but thankfully she understood him differently. He expected her to come down to the Keys and see about her father’s house. He didn’t expect her to risk life and limb to come in the middle of a hurricane. Leo was definitely right. His daughter was just as stubborn as he was.
“I hope we don’t run into any more falling trees,” Mia said, then glanced over to see his torn raincoat and uniform and the deep-red trail down his arm. “Oh my God, your arm. You’re bleeding. I need to get you to a hospital.” She slammed on the brakes and prepared to turn around.
“No, keep going. I’m fine,” he muttered, still winded.
She continued driving. “But you’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine. I just need to call in.” He pressed a knob on the walkie-talkie at his shoulder, but got only static.
“Is it broken?” Mia asked.
“No, it’s the hurricane. The signals are out all over the Keys. The police band has been having problems all day. Do you have a cell phone?”
“There,” she said, motioning to the cell phone attached to the car’s cradle. “Use my phone.”
He nodded, pressed the Call button then dialed. He pressed End, then dialed again. “There’s no service.”
The storm seemed to intensify a notch. The windshield wipers struggled against the wind and it was near impossible to see just a few yards ahead.
“It’s getting worse out here,” he said through clenched teeth.
“For once I’m in complete agreement with you,” she said, driving as quickly and safely as possible.
“We need to get inside,” he muttered, slowly closing his eyes and leaning his head back.
“We will,” Mia said, sparing a quick glance at her passenger. His eyes were closed and he was breathing slow and deep. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me. You might have a concussion or something. We’re almost there. My dad’s friend is a doctor. He never leaves during a hurricane.”
She managed to find the neighborhood with no problem, even though it was much different than she remembered.
Most of the homes in the area had been small tin-roofed bungalows, undersize eclectic-styled conch homes or simple colorful gingerbread cottages. They seemed to be all gone, replaced or rebuilt into elaborate mansion-styled tributes to wealth and privilege. She drove to her father’s neighbor’s house, passing beneath the row of bending palms swaying in the gusting winds.
She ran to the front door and knocked, then banged, but got no response. When she got back to the car, her passenger was unconscious.
She spared him a quick glance. He seemed very familiar for some reason. Did she know him?
She touched him gently. “Wake up. You have to stay awake.”
“Mi fantasía, usted está aquí,” he mumbled.
She translated easily. “My fantasy is here. What does that mean?” A loud crash of thunder sounded, and she jumped. Beside her, the officer woke up.
“Where are we?” he asked drowsily.
“I stopped at my dad’s friend’s house. He’s a retired doctor, Dr. Russell, but he’s not here.”
“Jim Russell stays at the hospital during hurricanes. His medical expertise is needed there.”
“Oh, okay, then we’ll be at my dad’s house in a minute.” She shifted gears and continued driving. A few miles later she pulled into her father’s modest driveway. Compared to the other homes she passed, his, now hers, was a pathetic reminder and relic from the past.
It was a small two-bedroom conch house built in the late sixties. With a surrounding porch and yard out back, it sat high up on a ridge with wooden steps leading down toward the beach area. Nothing about the property had changed, except for the portion of the white picket fence that had been ripped down. The roof on the wraparound porch had been badly damaged, and one hurricane shutter hung precariously.
Half windblown, half exhausted, they grabbed flashlights and a bag each, got out and then ran to the steps. She juggled her keys, and then finally opened the front door. A strong gust of wind took it, blowing it wide, slamming it against the inside wall. He grabbed it quickly as she hurried inside. “Come on in,” she said. He followed, securing the door behind them.
“Man, it’s crazy out there,” she said breathlessly, walking into the living room and looking around in the darkness. She tried to turn on the table lamp she’d remembered by the sofa and realized it was no longer there. She moved to the light switch on the wall and toggled it a few times. Nothing happened. “There’s no electricity,” she said, checking a few more light switches.
“We’re having rolling power outages to help conserve electricity. It’ll probably continue for the next few days.”
“It’s sweltering in here. We need some air.”
Closed up for months, the room was hot and stuffy. She moved to the separate air-ventilation system, hoping they still worked. They didn’t. She turned back to him as thunder roared and the wind howled outside. He hadn’t moved. He just stood there looking around as if waiting for something. “It’s okay, it’s my dad’s house. He died a few months ago.”
“Yes, I know. Leo James,” he said softly, turning his flashlight on and upward to resemble a lantern.
“That’s right.” She looked at him surprised th
at he knew that. “You knew my father?”
He nodded and half smiled, showing a deep-set dimple in his right cheek. He sat the flashlight on the small table she didn’t remember being there years ago. “Yeah, you could say something like that. We had history,” he said, standing in the familiar house he knew all too well. He’d spent a lot of time here before Leo died.
Mia looked at him, puzzled by the cryptic remark. “Well, since it looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a while, I guess we should introduce ourselves. I’m Mia,” she said, moving toward him and extending her hand.
“I know,” he said softly. “Stephen.” He extended his hand. As soon as they shook she saw him wobble. She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off quickly. “There’s a gas generator in the back. I’ll check it.” He took two steps then staggered and balanced himself against the wall.
“Whoa. No way. You need to sit down.”
“No, I’m fine,” he said, swaying again as he pushed away from the wall.
She grabbed him quickly, fearing he’d fall. Holding him tight, she moved him to the sofa. “You’re not fine. Your arm is bleeding and so is your forehead. Sit down,” she said firmly, helping him sit and lie back. She grabbed the flashlight and brought it closer. In the muted light she saw that the cut on his forehead didn’t look as bad as she thought, but his arm, covered with mud and blood, was still bleeding badly. She sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of him. “I need to see how badly you’re hurt. You need to take your clothes off,” she said, but then realized how it sounded.
“You want me to take my clothes off?” he asked half smiling, and then he closed his eyes and lay back.
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Positive. I meant that you need to take off your jacket and shirt. I need to see your arm. It’s bleeding.”
He nodded but didn’t move. Realizing that he might be hurt worse than either of them realized, she leaned in and helped him remove his jacket. She struggled to get it over his arm, but finally got it off. Tossing it aside, she began unbuttoning his shirt. Her hands, usually steady and sure, trembled slightly. She slowly opened his shirt and began pulling it from his pants. She unbuckled his belt for easier access, but hesitated when her hand accidentally brushed against him. She instantly retreated and stood up.
Sultry Storm (Kimani Romance) Page 3