Shelter in the Tropics

by Cara Lockwood

  The female officer who’d fingerprinted her had at one point brought in water, a package of pretzels and a fish sandwich that smelled so strong she hadn’t thought it a good idea to eat it. She had enough problems without adding food poisoning to the menu. Her stomach growled and ached from being empty. If that was anything to go by, she’d been here at least a full day and a night. Maybe longer. She was thirsty, tired and hungry, and feeling more and more like she’d been abandoned forever.

  In the time she’d been in jail, she’d managed to catalog every single mistake she’d ever made in her life, and imagined exactly what she’d do differently. Maybe she never should’ve run with Avery, after all. Maybe she should’ve insisted on trying to find a police officer somewhere who would listen to her. Or she could’ve set up cameras throughout the house to get irrefutable proof that he’d been laying his hands on her. Everything seemed so simple and easy now.

  Of course, she knew she hadn’t been thinking rationally when she’d been married to Rick. How could she outthink him when she was always just trying to read his mood, predict the erupting of his temper and hope she could avoid the tornado that would inevitably follow. Plus, Rick made no secret of feeling paranoid that others were out to get him—his competitors, his rivals, even ex-girlfriends. If he’d found cameras she’d planted, then he would’ve killed her. Not to mention, the ever-watchful eye of the servants—the butler, the housekeeper, the cook—always seemingly everywhere at once. She was never alone enough of the time to set up surveillance equipment. They would’ve seen. They would’ve told Rick.

  That had been part of the worst of it—surrounded by people, none of them ever willing to help her. Their silence bought like so many others.

  Her thoughts looped endlessly around what she could’ve done differently, should’ve done differently. Should she have run the second she’d even had a suspicion about Tack? Hadn’t she known something was off the second he’d climbed into her hotel minibus? A big, strapping vet who’d flirted with her had to have an ulterior motive.

  He said he loved me. He said he’d look after me.

  She glanced at the empty cell across the hall and couldn’t help but feel abandoned. Then she heard voices from down the hallway. Loud ones. A man’s voice, arguing. She stood and pressed her face against the bars. She couldn’t see anything, but she heard a steel door creak open. Then came footsteps.

  She closed her eyes and prayed they’d belong to Tack.

  “You can’t hold her here. It’s been thirty hours, and have you even given her anything to eat? One meal is inhumane, Officer. And it’s clearly against the law. I don’t think your chief will want to hear about this. Any of this.”

  Cate craned her neck to see. The voice didn’t sound like Tack’s. She tried to stifle the heavy disappointment that threatened to rest on her shoulders.

  The female officer lumbered into view, and beside her stood a man she’d never seen before, wearing a smart dark suit and tie. He was striking with dark hair and hazel-colored eyes and had the kind of determined walk that said he was used to getting what he wanted. She couldn’t help but feel sorely disappointed. Who was this man?

  “Cate Dalton? I’m John Benoit. US Consulate. Here to see that you’re safely bonded out of this facility.”

  “Do I know you?” Cate asked, perplexed, as the guard opened her cell and she came out.

  “No, but I know you. And all your questions will be answered in due time. Now, come along. I’ve got someone who’s very eager to see you.” Cate’s heart leaped. Was it somehow Avery? She glanced at the man who’d gotten her out of jail, and as they turned down a narrow passage to the steel door with the small Plexiglas window, she wondered if Mark had sent him. Had Mark somehow heard she’d been arrested?

  In the front area of the jail, where the coffeemaker and two desks sat side by side, the female guard handed her a bag containing her personal effects: her watch and jewelry and phone.

  She thought about the boat, and her suitcase and purse.

  “What about my suitcase...and the boat?” she asked.

  “I’ll take care of it,” John promised. “We’ll get it back.”

  Cate simply couldn’t believe it, as she walked by the desks, past the unhappy-looking guard, that she was actually leaving. She glanced backward once, and the man in the dark suit gently clasped her elbow.

  “Keep moving,” John urged. “Just keep moving.”

  She followed him out of the jail and into the blinding morning sunlight. She blinked back the light, and then, once in the parking lot, saw a tall, broad figure leaning up against a gray sedan.

  “Tack?” she murmured, almost unable to believe her eyes. He had come for her, just like he said he would. He uncrossed his arms and jogged to her. In seconds, she was in his arms and he’d lifted her straight off the ground. She’d never been so glad to be swept off her feet. He kissed her almost instantly, running his hands through her hair like he’d been waiting years, and not just a day, to have her in his arms again.

  “You came for me,” she said, still not quite sure she believed her own eyes. “But what about the visa?”

  “We might still be able to get it. But I wasn’t going to leave you behind. Never.” His full lips quirked into a crooked grin, and Cate felt her insides melt just a little bit. The man’s smile still had the same effect on her.

  “While this little reunion is heartwarming, I think we’d better go, Tack, before they realize you’re the guy who set a police car on fire and then stole it,” John said drily as he slipped out of his suit jacket and opened the front door.

  “Stole a police car? Set it on fire? Sounds like I missed quite a lot,” Cate said.

  “You have no idea.” Tack wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and they both ducked into the back of the sedan. John took the driver’s seat.

  “What would I do without you?” Tack said as he reached the driver’s seat and clapped his friend on the shoulder.

  “Rot in jail probably,” John quipped and Tack chuckled, as his friend keyed the ignition and drove the car out of the police parking lot.

  “I’ve known this guy since boot camp,” Tack said. “He was the one who fainted in the mess hall.”

  “I had heat stroke,” John said, quick to clarify. “So, the proper term is passed out. Not fainted.”

  “Whatever you say, London.” Tack grinned at Cate, grabbing her hand and squeezing it.

  “London?” Cate questioned.

  “London Bridge is falling down,” Tack explained, and Cate could see John roll his eyes in the rearview mirror.

  “That’s some way to thank the man who just sprung your girlfriend out of jail.”

  “They weren’t even holding her on any real charges,” Tack said, squeezing her hand.

  Cate didn’t understand. “What about the kidnapping? What about the theft? They said that I’d be on trial soon. That I’d be in jail for a long time.”

  “Allen bribed them, we think,” Tack said. “As it turned out, he didn’t want to go through proper channels, because he didn’t want to have to wait. He wanted to make sure he maintained control, and the only way to do that was not to involve the US government.”

  “Where’s Avery? Are we going to see him?” Cate felt hope rise in her chest. If the US authorities weren’t involved, maybe that meant there was a better chance she’d get to see her boy. Then she saw Tack meet John’s glance in the rearview mirror.

  “We think Derek took him to see Allen. I saw them leave on a private jet.”

  “What?” Cate felt her heart race. Her boy was on his way to see her ex right now.

  “The good news is we can travel. And London, here, has access to a private jet.”

  “I didn’t say you could use it,” he deadpanned, but when Cate met his gaze in the mirror he winked. “She can go anywhere she
’d like, especially if it’s with me. But I don’t think I promised you anything.”

  “I told you she’s off-limits, London.”

  “That’s for the girl to decide, isn’t it?” John was clearly flirting, but Cate didn’t mind. It was good-natured, and she could tell he was mostly doing it to get under Tack’s skin. The fact that it was working made Cate feel a little thrill. Tack cared.

  “I’m not going to let you go alone with London. He has a bad rap with women.”

  “Women love me!” he exclaimed.

  “Exactly why you have a bad rap,” Tack said, and his friend laughed at that.

  “Okay, I’m going to have you to the airport in about ten minutes.”

  “You’re flying with us?” Cate asked, even as Tack wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders.

  “Wish I could, but no. It’s just you two outbound. The jet has to fly to pick up the diplomat’s kid from boarding school, so it might as well take you to Chicago on the way. I’ve got all the papers you need. It’s wheels up in an hour.”

  * * *

  INSIDE THE PRIVATE JET, Cate glanced at the tasteful tan leather interior and the two facing armchair seats on one side of the plane, and the long couch on the other. On the far end hung a wide, flat-screen TV, plus a small table with a magazine and newspaper on it. For a second, she felt like she was back on one of Rick’s jets, but then remembered this one did not belong to him and felt a bit of relief.

  “Hey, folks,” the captain said as he poked his head out of the cockpit. “Welcome aboard. We’ll be taking off soon. It’s a seven-hour flight, and it’s just you two, me and the copilot up here. Keep your seat belt on for take-off, but after that you can serve yourself drinks or grab something from the mini fridge. If you need anything, knock. Otherwise, we’ll probably see you on the other side.” The pilot slid the privacy door closed, and it was suddenly just Tack and Cate, alone, as the engines of the plane came to life, and the plane moved away from the hangar.

  “This is nice,” Tack said as he slid into one of the overstuffed armchairs. “I’m used to flying coach—or cargo plane. This is something else.”

  Cate nodded and slipped into the armchair across from him, suddenly reminded of all the dozens of flights she’d taken in a private jet. She’d been lucky, she knew, yet she’d paid for that wealth every single day she’d been married to Rick. “Sure, it’s nice.”

  Tack glanced up. “But not as nice as you’re used to.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to.” Tack studied her a minute, leaning forward and touching her knees. His big hands felt warm and protective there as he squeezed them ever so slightly. She suddenly felt a little shiver down her spine. She didn’t want him to stop touching her. “Do you miss it? The wealth?”

  Cate glanced out of the small, oval window. “Sometimes,” she admitted honestly. “It’s not easy to worry about money. I worried about money my whole life growing up, and then after Rick...everything was much harder.”

  Tack’s hands slipped from her knees. She reached out and touched his arm. “But I wouldn’t want it back. Not if Rick came with it. I know now that being poor and happy is far better than being rich and miserable.”

  The plane shuddered beneath them as it turned at the end of the runway. Then, the engines revved and the plane throttled forward, eventually taking flight. Tack looked out the window as the small plane took off, the airport and the island growing smaller and smaller beneath them, until it was a small dark shape in a sea of blue-green.

  “It really is beautiful down there,” Cate said. “I’m going to miss the Caribbean.”

  “Maybe you can come back,” Tack said.

  “Maybe.”

  “I don’t think Mark is going to sell the resort,” he said.

  “He might not have a choice.” It was funny, the worry of the resort had been all-encompassing just days ago, but now it seemed almost inconsequential. Not that she didn’t care, but she simply couldn’t focus on anything other than Avery. And getting him back.

  The plane soon leveled off as they began the journey to Chicago. Cate wondered how she was going endure the entire flight when she just wanted to get there already. Why hadn’t teleporting been invented yet?

  Tack glanced at the small mini fridge near the couch. “Want a drink?” he asked her. “We’ve got seven hours. Might as well get comfortable.”

  Cate wasn’t sure she could get comfortable. All she could think about was her little boy, and whether he was getting fed foods he’d eat, whether Derek was taking care of him, whether he was sad or scared or worried. She hated the not knowing more than anything. Being a mother had been the most fulfilling role of her life, and yet it was also the most demanding, even when Avery wasn’t in her sight. Maybe more demanding when he wasn’t. The worry ate away at her stomach.

  She popped up from her seat and began to pace in the small cabin.

  “Hungry? Can I get you something to eat?”

  “Starved.”

  “I see crackers and cheese here, and wine... but you probably want water.”

  “Wine is good. Or anything stronger.”

  He glanced over his shoulder and saw the expression on her face. “You okay?”

  “I’m just worried. Do you think...do you think Avery is okay?”

  Tack put down the bottle and returned to her. “I think he’s fine, I do.” He put his arms gently on her shoulders. Cate turned and faced him, biting her lip.

  “But he’s all alone.”

  “Derek will treat him well because Allen won’t pay him if he doesn’t, and Derek just cares about getting paid.”

  “Are you sure? What if he doesn’t feed him, or makes sure he uses the bathroom, or...”

  “He’ll be fine, Cate. Try not to worry.” He looked so confident, so sure, and Cate wanted to believe him. She wanted to feel confident that everything would work out, but she just couldn’t quite shut her brain off. It rattled and hummed, as if it were filled with a million bees, all of them angry and anxious. She sank onto the couch.

  “How can I not worry? Even if he is fine, what if I never see him again? What if Rick uses his money and his influence and...and...what about when he finds out I lied to him, that his father was alive all this time, what if...what if he doesn’t want to see me again? What if he hates me?” This haunted her and made her feel sick to her stomach. Cate knew she’d done her boy wrong by keeping the truth from him. And even though he was still so little, he knew what a lie was.

  She put her face in her hands. “Rick is going to tell Avery what a bad mom I am, and what if he’s right? What if I am a terrible mother?” Cate was losing it. She didn’t know if she had the strength to face the horrible what-ifs, and her throat constricted with tears.

  Tack sat next to her, wrapping his strong arm around her shoulders.

  “You’re not a terrible mother. You’re a loving mother who did what she thought she had to do to protect her son,” Tack said, gently squeezing her to his side.

  “But Avery is so little. He’ll believe anything Rick tells him.” And Rick was so very persuasive.

  “Avery loves you, and he’ll always love you. Rick Allen’s money and his influence and anything else won’t change that.”

  Cate leaned into Tack, drawing comfort from him and strength. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I saw how much you love him, and how much he loves you, and a bond like that can’t be severed with money. Remember, your ex is a virtual stranger to him. Do you really think he’ll immediately believe his word over yours?”

  “He’ll be so confused, though. And hurt. And upset.” Cate felt the tears well up. The last thing on earth she ever wanted to do was hurt Avery.

  She laid her face against his broad chest. “Hey, you did what you t
hought was right at that time. You can’t beat yourself up over this. What was the alternative? You stay with Avery’s father and let him beat you to death? Then where would Avery be? Without his mother.”

  Cate nodded; Tack was right.

  “You did what you thought you had to do,” he continued, stroking her arm. “You might have had other choices, but at the time, what could you have really done differently? You were isolated and alone, and yet you still found a way to break free of all that, and take Avery with you. A weaker person would’ve stayed. A weaker person would still be there.”

  Cate hugged Tack, holding on to him, the comfort in his body and his words. “You think so?”

  “I know so. You’re one of the bravest and strongest women I’ve ever met.”

  “Avery might not think so. He’ll be hurt.” She bit her lip. She hated imagining him angry or hurt because of something she did.

  “Avery is young. And kids his age are very forgiving. Not to mention that you’ll be with him soon. To explain why you did what you did. You’ll have a lifetime to make it up to him.” Tack nuzzled the top of her head, and she leaned into the touch. He felt so big and safe, so strong. She wanted to believe him.

  “Rick could keep him from me.”

  “He won’t. I’ll make sure he won’t. We will work something out so that you can see your son. I won’t let Rick steal him away from you.”

  “Why are you fighting so hard for this? For Avery? For me?” She still couldn’t quite wrap her head around the fact that she had an ally, someone who would fight for her.

  “Because we’re a team now, whether you like it or not. And I’ll fight by your side for as long as it takes to make sure Avery gets to see his mother.”

  “Tack... If you really do this, Rick could destroy you.” Cate still thought Tack didn’t understand the enemy he was facing. He didn’t get that Rick just got what he wanted, whenever he wanted, that he was a man who never took no for an answer, who never had to. “I’ve seen him make people’s lives miserable. He has so much power, and so much money, he can have whatever he wants. He’ll dig up your secrets, and if you don’t have any, he’ll make them up.”