Shelter in the Tropics

by Cara Lockwood

  “Tack knows the resort,” Mark said. “Don’t come here. We’ll bring the papers and your bags to you. Do you have a place in mind?”

  She thought about the island, and everywhere she could go just seemed too visible and required cash that she didn’t have. She knew it wouldn’t be safe to use her credit card anywhere, and she couldn’t figure out how she’d get another hotel room, or even a booth at a restaurant, without one. Besides, the idea of sitting in a bar with Avery somewhere just didn’t seem right. Nor did walking around a small strip mall.

  She racked her brain, trying to come up with places that Tack wouldn’t look for her.

  “I know exactly where to go,” she finally said.

  * * *

  TACK DID HIS best to keep Cate in his sights, without getting close enough to tip her off that he was following. He managed to drop back eight cars, and the curves along the cliffside highway would also help him blend in. Following her wouldn’t be that difficult, but he knew catching her would be. The woman had a talent for disappearing, and he had a feeling she was planning to do that right now. She was in full-on flight mode, and it was all his fault.

  He’d betrayed her, and he knew she’d never forgive him, but he only hoped she’d listen to him. He could help her. But running was a bad idea.

  He knew Rick Allen, and knew that the best way to deal with a bully was head-on. Running only made things worse. Right now, there was a very real possibility Cate would face jail time for kidnapping her son, and the attempted murder of her ex-husband. Tack didn’t know exactly how to ensure that Cate didn’t go to jail and Avery could still see his mother, but he knew he could figure something out. If only he could think long enough about all the angles. He could find some way forward. But not if she ran.

  If she ran, she was very likely to be caught. And that meant jail. And no more Avery.

  Then again, if she stayed put, it might also mean jail. Tack wasn’t blind to the reality of the situation. She’d taken her child out of the country for three years. And her allegations of abuse would be his word against hers, since the local police incinerated that report she filed all those years ago. Still, Tack would figure it out. There had to be a way to prove she was abused. Witnesses at the police station, maybe. Witnesses who weren’t in the pocket of Rick Allen?

  Even he had to admit that things looked grim for Cate.

  And I’d been the one to paint her in this corner.

  He didn’t know how he’d make it up to her, but somehow he would.

  He watched as the small taxi made its way around a truck turning left. He noticed that the cab drove past the turnoff to the resort, and Tack wondered what game Cate might be playing.

  Tack gripped the steering wheel. Whatever it was, he would find out.

  Tack checked his own rearview mirror, to see any cars that might be tailing him. He didn’t trust Derek. Not at all. The man was probably the worst captain in the entire marine corps. The rules never did apply to him. He never cared about loyalty. About even his own men, just his own future. He wanted to be promoted more than he cared about what happened to anybody around him. Even now, Tack could feel the anger bubbling up in him, the righteous indignation. The man was an asshole, and now he was working for an even bigger one.

  Tack didn’t see Derek following him. He probably planned to stay right at the airport. If I were him, that’s what I’d do. The quickest way off the island was by plane.

  Tack looked ahead and saw Cate’s taxi turn toward the green-blue water.

  Scratch that. The best way off the island might just be by boat.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE TAXI STOPPED at St. Anthony’s Marina, and Cate leaned over and paid the driver the last of the cash she happened to have in her wallet. She grabbed Avery’s hand and led him gently out of the cab as they walked along the dock.

  “Boats!” Avery cried in little boy delight as Cate steered him along the row of impressive fishing boats and yachts.

  Cate steeled herself. She couldn’t believe she was considering doing this, but she also knew she had no choice. She and Avery passed by Terry Blake’s obnoxious party boat, and she let out a long sigh. She had to be desperate to come groveling to that man. But Rick had found her. She was that desperate.

  She pulled open the double doors of the marina’s office and felt the cool air-conditioned air sweep over her. Terry owned not just the party boat, but the marina, as well. It was why he’d been so interested in buying the resort, less than half a mile down the road. With it, he’d wind up owning a fifth of the island. She saw Terry standing behind the counter, talking to his pretty receptionist, who was wearing one of his neon-green party-boat tank tops tied up under her bikini top.

  Terry looked up, saw Cate and a smile broke out on his ruby-red face. His eyes were bloodshot, even though it wasn’t that late in the day.

  “Cate! So good to see you. What can I do for you?” He wiggled his massively overgrown eyebrows, making sure to make the innuendo obvious. God, was she really going to sell to this man?

  I don’t have a choice.

  She took a deep breath and tried to send him her best smile, despite the fact that his overgrown gray chest hair stuck out of his button-up Hawaiian shirt.

  “Could we...talk for a moment?” Cate glanced at the receptionist with the orange tan and the bleached blond hair, tied up in a messy ponytail. She was young and curvy, and seemed sweet.

  “Who’s this little guy?” the receptionist cooed as she eyed Avery. She swept around the counter in flip-flops and bent low enough to give Avery a little pinch on the cheek. “What’s your name?”

  “Avery,” he said, shyly clinging to his mother’s legs.

  “Avery, do you like to draw? Want a coloring page?”

  Avery looked at Cate, and she nodded, figuring the young woman was harmless. The receptionist grabbed a printout from the top of the counter along with a pack of four crayons. Avery grabbed them quickly and with excitement tottered off to a seat near Terry’s office to color.

  “Avery...” Cate called.

  “He’ll be fine there,” Terry said. “Casey will watch him, won’t you, hon?”

  “Sure thing!” Casey cooed.

  Cate hesitated. Terry leaned over and put his arm around Cate’s shoulder. “I think we need to leave the grown-up talk to the grown-ups, you know what I’m saying?” Terry moved his arm down a little, and placed a suggestive hand on the small of her back. She nearly jumped out of her skin and bolted straight out of there right then. She didn’t know what he expected, but Cate was going to keep this all business.

  “Terry, I’m here to talk business.”

  Terry didn’t lose a beat. “Good! Good. Then step inside,” he said as he nudged her forward with his hand.

  Cate glanced at her boy and figured he was right outside the office. Maybe it was best he stayed there. The less he saw of Terry, probably the better.

  Terry pointed to a chair and Cate slid into it. Terry, however, sat at the edge of his desk, giving her a full-view of the strained buttons of his blue Hawaiian shirt, which seemed in danger at any moment of pinging off and hitting her in the eye. She tried to avert her gaze, as she was pretty sure if she stared, she’d be able to see belly hair poking out of the gaping holes.

  “What can I do for you, honey?” Terry asked.

  “This is all about business,” she said.

  “And wouldn’t I like to give you the business.” Terry snorted at his own joke and then shrugged. He had to have been drinking, Cate thought.

  “Terry. I’m here because I want to sell you the undeveloped beachfront property.”

  Terry raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Really?”

  Cate nodded.

  “What about the resort?”

  Cate thought about Mark’s share of
it. She couldn’t sell that without talking to him first, and he’d said he wanted to stay. “No,” she said, shaking her head firmly. “Just the beachfront property. It’s right next to your marina. You could expand, or build your own resort right there.”

  They both knew that the beachfront was what he really wanted. The parcel lay between the marina and her resort.

  “How much?” Terry asked her, suddenly all business, all sexual innuendo gone.

  “I just want a catamaran,” she said, simply.

  Terry blinked fast, as if she’d thrown cold water in his face. He couldn’t have looked more flabbergasted. “But that’s $350,000 at most. Your land is worth three times that.”

  “Are you going to take the deal or not?”

  Terry squinted at her, clearly trying to look for an angle. “What’s the catch?”

  “I can’t wait for a close on the land, and all the paperwork and everything else.” Cate wanted to keep to the truth as much as possible. She needed Terry to go for this deal, and she needed him to do it quickly. Every second ticking by was one she couldn’t afford to lose.

  “What? Got the police after you?” Terry laughed, because the island police were notoriously slow to do anything. There were only four police cars and eight officers for the whole island.

  “No,” Cate said. I’ve got someone way worse after me.

  “What about the deed and title?”

  “Mark is bringing it.”

  “Now?” Terry hopped off his desk, as if he thought Mark might stride through his office doors at any second, which Cate really hoped he did. She’d told Mark on the phone to bring the deed, their suitcases and whatever food or supplies he could fit in his car. Terry paced a little, thinking.

  “Just a catamaran? Which one?”

  “How about the Sweet Pea?” He owned two catamarans, one yacht and a party boat. The catamaran she wanted was the newer of the two. It wouldn’t be the easiest to maneuver by herself into and out of port, but she didn’t have much choice at the moment. His yacht was too big, and the party boat wouldn’t set out to sea.

  “The deed to your beach property. For the Sweet Pea.” Terry said it slowly, as if waiting for Cate to tell him it was all a practical joke.

  “On one condition.”

  Terry looked wary. He was waiting for this. “What is it?”

  “That I take the Sweet Pea today.”

  Terry relaxed. “That’s it? Boy, you are in a hurry, aren’t you?”

  He had no idea. Cate felt antsy. Too much time was ticking away, and Terry needed to just get on board. “So, do we have a deal?” She offered him her hand.

  Terry looked at her and suddenly joy spread across his face. “You bet your sweet ass we’ve got a deal.” Terry grabbed Cate’s hand and shook it with such force Cate’s teeth rattled together. She might hate Terry on principle, but at that moment, she came dangerously close to wanting to hug the man. Of course, one whiff of his cheap cologne instantly dislodged that notion, but still. Terry and his gold-chain-wearing, hairy self might’ve just saved her life.

  Cate checked her phone and saw a message from Mark.

  I’ll be there in two minutes.

  Cate felt tears sting the back of her eyes. How grateful she felt at that moment to have hope.

  * * *

  TACK PARKED THE hotel van in the marina’s parking lot. Thanks to the view of the boats and open water, he’d know if a boat left. And then what? Hijack a boat like he was in the middle of a spy movie?

  Maybe.

  He weighed his options. He could rush in and demand to speak with her. Try to get her to see reason?

  I don’t even have a plan. What am I going to tell her? Just face the music and hope for the best?

  Even he knew that sounded ridiculous.

  He knew the facts: she’d taken her boy away from his father and out of the country. It was parental kidnapping under Illinois state law, which made it illegal for a parent, even if he or she was legally married to the other parent, to conceal a child from his or her spouse for more than two weeks. It had been close to three years, so he was fairly sure she’d violated that law, and probably a dozen others that Allen’s lawyers would cite. But surely there was a defense? He’d reached out to a family law friend he knew from high school who’d gone on to law school. He glanced at his phone to see if his friend had a chance to respond. Just then, his phone dinged with the answer he was looking for.

  If your friend was fleeing domestic violence, which is hard to prove, she could use an affirmative defense. Sometimes this works.

  Tack quickly texted back. No jail time?

  Not if the judge believes the mother and son were really in danger. But you’d need proof. Police reports. Restraining orders.

  Tack winced. He already knew there wasn’t a paper trail for the abuse. Cate had said Allen had the local cops in his pocket.

  Not to mention, aside from the kidnapping charge, there was the money Cate took. Though proving that wasn’t joint property since they were married at the time would be hard for Allen to do.

  Still. There had to be a way of proving her abuse claims. Tack might even be able to talk some sense into his former boss. At least, he’d be willing to try. It would be easier to negotiate a truce if Cate didn’t run. If she gave herself up.

  Still, if he were honest with himself, at this moment all he wanted her to know was that he was sorry. That he didn’t mean for any of this to happen, that if he’d known the kind of man Allen really was, he would never have led him straight to her.

  But he had. He knew that. He’d have to work to make it right somehow.

  Walking away was simply not an option.

  Tack saw another car drive up to the marina, and he saw Mark Gurda get out, then pull several suitcases out of his trunk. His wife, Carol, was with him, too. He watched as Cate and Avery emerged from the office of the marina, and Carol embraced Cate in a long hug. He couldn’t tell from here, but it looked emotional and intense.

  Tack sat upright.

  She was going to flee now. Tack knew he had only minutes to catch her before she’d sailed off to God knew where.

  He watched as Mark helped Cate load her suitcases on a catamaran moored to the dock, and saw him toss tote bags full of supplies onto the waiting deck. Mark pulled out a manila folder from one of the bags. Cate nodded, and they exchanged a few words that Tack couldn’t make out. He never was a good lip-reader. Then, Mark, Cate and Avery marched back into the marina.

  Tack launched himself out of the van and made his way straight to the catamaran, with a quick glance about to make sure no one saw him. He hopped onto the boat and made his way to the lower decks, slipping inside the first cabin door. Inside, was a small queen-size bunk—must be the master suite—flanked by the boat’s likely only working toilet. He slid the door closed again and waited.

  * * *

  “YOU BE CAREFUL, NOW,” Mark said, giving Cate a big hug on the dock as they stood beside the massive boat. Carol stood with them, shading her eyes from the bright Caribbean sun.

  “I will,” Cate said, turning back to see her son happily sitting on the bench bolted to the deck, wearing an oversize bright orange life preserver. Seagulls circled above them, their high-pitched calls sounding like an invitation to the sea. White clouds covered most of the blue sky, but none of them looked too threatening. Not that she had a choice on the matter. She’d sail, rain or no rain.

  “You sure you don’t want to stay?” Carol asked, frowning. “We can fight him.”

  “How?” Cate already tried fighting Rick. She remembered her futile trip to the police station. How do you fight a man who owns everything...and everyone?

  “I don’t know. But we can fight him together. It’s not right what he did to you...and it’s not right for you to spend your life r
unning for a crime he committed.”

  “I know what I did.” Cate wasn’t innocent, either. She couldn’t pretend that.

  “Rick deserved what he got.” Mark wouldn’t be swayed. Cate could see that on his determined face. “Any reasonable judge would think so.”

  “Reasonable or not, the law is the law.” Kidnapping, attempted murder, theft. She was sure Rick had a laundry list of charges on an indictment ready to file the second she stepped back on American soil. She wasn’t going to spend her life in jail, away from her son. She’d run now and keep on running if it meant keeping her son safe. The idea of him in Rick’s control made her flesh crawl.

  She glanced at Mark and saw his ruffled, not-recently-combed silver-white hair and his rumpled Hawaiian shirt. She looked at Carol, too, her best friend and confidant. Cate felt a strong pang suddenly. What if she never saw this couple again? They were more than her best friends. They were family.

  Cate gave Mark a big hug. She released him and felt teary-eyed. “Don’t go crying on me!” he commanded. “Then I’ll start crying, and I’m ugly when I cry.”

  “Believe him,” his wife said and chuckled a little. “Oh, sweetie.” Carol squeezed her tightly. “Be safe.”

  “I’ll figure out a way we can be in contact,” Mark promised her.

  Cate nodded and then got on the boat, her feet feeling almost as heavy as her heart. Mark undid the rope latching the boat to the dock and tossed the slack up to her. She grabbed it and waved at him.

  “You sure you don’t need any help getting this monster out?” Mark called.

  “I’ve handled worse,” she said, thinking she’d have to learn to make do. She was once again alone. It was her and Avery against the world, just like the night she’d fled Rick’s mansion with her boy in her arms.

  As she pushed out to sea, she turned back to see Mark and Carol waving to her from the dock. She threw up an arm, and then she focused on steering her boat. She broke free of the little inlet, and not too long after found herself on open blue-green water, the waves mostly calm as they lapped against the side of the boat. She felt a weight lift off her shoulders as she put space between her and the shore of St. Anthony’s. She glanced at the lush, green tropical place she once called home and wondered if she’d ever see it again. She’d become attached to the island, and the people there. That had been her mistake. She couldn’t afford to let anyone close to her, not when she had to keep one step ahead of Rick.