by Connie Mann
“Alexi snorted. ‘You just want to be near the water.’
“I remember grinning and saying, ‘That, too,’ as I pulled the door shut behind me. It was a game to me.”
Jesse stroked a hand up and down her arm, and his touch gave her courage.
“I ran down three flights of stairs and out into the street. Papa was a block and a half ahead of me, so I hurried to catch up, but got caught by a traffic light. When the light changed, I raced across the intersection, eager to reach him. I knew he would scold me, but then he would smile and take my hand and take me aboard the big ships he helped load at the docks. I loved being near the ships, filled with grain and bound for ports around the world. Papa would tell me stories of places and people far, far away from our little world.
“I chased him across the next intersection, trying to catch up. He was almost to the port, so I raised my mittened hand to wave and call to him, when a man came out of a dark alley and stepped up beside him. Something about the way Papa shifted away made me drop my hand. I’d never seen the man before, and Papa seemed afraid, which made no sense to me. My Papa tossed bags of grain like they were feathers. He was never afraid.
“Once they reached the docks, I hid behind the corner of a building and watched. I couldn’t tell what they were saying, but the man sounded angry. Papa kept patting the air like he was telling the other man to stop shouting.
“Suddenly the other man pulled out a knife. I gasped and clapped a hand over my mouth.
“When both men turned toward me, I ran, desperate to get home before they realized I’d been there.
“The man caught me, and I almost peed my pants. I kept my head down, panting from my run. ‘Who are you?’
“I could barely get my name out.
“He grabbed my chin. ‘What did you hear? Where are your parents?’
“My eyes automatically went to Papa, but I knew right away that was the wrong thing to do.
“‘You know her?’ the man demanded.
“Papa pleaded with the man. ‘Please, she’s just a little girl. She knows nothing. She’ll say nothing.’
“The man shook me like a rag doll, then shoved me toward the street. ‘Go. Get on home. And if you ever breathe a word of anything you saw or heard here, I’ll kill you.’
“I only made it a block before I had to stop running because I couldn’t catch my breath. I kept looking over my shoulder, but no one was behind me. I ducked into a storefront, huddled in a dark corner, trying to stop crying, to get enough air.
“Suddenly Papa was there, hauling me into his strong arms. ‘Hush, little one. It’s all going to be all right.’
“He carried me home while I sobbed on his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry, Papa. I just wanted to go with you.’
“When we got back to the apartment, Mama’s eyes were wide with panic. ‘Oh, thank you, gracious Father, you are both unharmed.’
“Papa told me everything would be OK in the morning, but as I huddled in the narrow bed I shared with Alexi, I couldn’t sleep. Mama and Papa were arguing in hushed voices, and the fear in Mama’s voice kept me wide awake.
“I must have fallen asleep, because suddenly Papa crouched beside the bed, shaking my shoulder. ‘Wake up, children. We are going on a trip.’
“We hurried into warm clothes and coats. Alexi whispered, ‘Where are we going, Papa? How long will we be gone? Will we miss lots of school?’
“Papa laughed quietly, but I could tell it was forced. ‘So many questions, my Alexi. All will be answered in good time. Come. We must go.’
“I glanced at Mama, who wrung her hands even as she tried to smile, and I knew something was very wrong. We tiptoed down the stairs and out to our ancient Citroën and climbed in.
“Alexi chattered nonstop, but Mama and Papa said nothing, just kept checking the side mirrors. Suddenly Mama gasped. Papa gripped her hand and kissed her clenched fist. ‘It will be all right. God will protect us.’
“Something slammed into us from the side, and Alexi and I were thrown against the doors. The Citroën didn’t have seatbelts. ‘Children, are you all right? Sit back up, quickly,’ Mama whispered.
“I glanced at Papa, his hands tight around the steering wheel, jaw clenched as he checked the rearview and side mirrors, and fear gripped me like a living thing. Papa was never afraid.
“The car hit us two more times and Alexi and I braced our legs against the front seats. Mama prayed quietly.
“‘Sasha, my pet, this is—’
“Papa never finished the sentence. There was another loud crash behind us, and then the car started to bounce and roll. I heard screams, but had no idea where they were coming from. The car thumped and bounced, over and over. Glass shattered. I heard Papa moan.”
Jesse pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. She blinked and came back to the present, surprised when she realized her cheeks were wet with tears. She turned to look at him.
“I think I was knocked out. When I woke up, there was an eerie silence. I called their names, but no one answered. The car was upside down, and Alexi was on top of me. Somehow I got out of the car and checked on them. They were dead. All three of them, gone.”
Sasha swallowed hard and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She fingered the mariner’s cross around her neck. “This was Papa’s. It’s all I have left.”
Jesse gently stroked her cheek. “It wasn’t your fault, Sasha.”
Sasha studied his face. “If I hadn’t followed Papa that night, if I had done what he asked, been responsible . . . my family would still be alive.”
He made a dismissive sound. “You don’t know that. You don’t know what your father had gotten mixed up in. Besides that, you were nine, Sasha. A child. This was not your fault. My guess is that if someone showed up with a knife that night, the trouble started way before you got there.”
Sasha’s mouth dropped open. She’d never thought of that before. But it still didn’t excuse her. “I do that, Jesse. You’ve seen it happen. I act on impulse and don’t think, and people get hurt.” She eased out of his arms and took the helm, turned them toward home. “I’m better off on my own. That way, my irresponsibility doesn’t hurt people I care about.”
“What about the search for Tony?”
She stared at him. “What about it?”
“Are you being reckless and irresponsible?”
Her head jerked up. “No. Although Pop might think so. I’m doing what Mama asked me to. I’m trying to do right by my family. To make amends.”
“Then what? You’ll leave with a clear conscience? Alone?”
“I told you I got a job offer today. Fort Lauderdale. To help pilot a racing boat. Be part of a two-man team.”
He gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. “You want to drive fast boats, I’ll give you a job with me when I’m set up. But that’s not the issue, and you know it.”
She wanted to look away, but he wouldn’t let her. “You didn’t kill your family, Sasha. And when you find out what happened to Tony—and I have no doubt you will—it won’t undo what happened in Russia. And it won’t make Mama Rosa or Sal love you any more than they already do.”
“You don’t understand,” she mumbled.
“Oh, I understand perfectly. You’re trying to earn your family’s love, but you don’t realize you already have it. You believe you’re not worthy of love and should spend your life alone. Which is a total crock.”
His words pierced deep and made the picture of her past she’d carried in her heart seem distorted, like a kaleidoscope that had been turned upside down.
He reached over and fingered the cross she wore. “The cross for faith, the anchor symbolizing hope. Your family were people of faith, Sasha. They loved God and they loved you. Don’t reject that gift.”
Sasha couldn’t think, couldn’t talk. Instead, she turned back to the helm and flipped on the running lights. As they headed back to the marina, Jesse stayed beside her, his words echoing in her mind.
It w
as after eight when they docked. “Want to grab dinner?” he asked.
Sasha shook her head. “I need to go check on Mama, see how things are going.” She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. Three texts from Eve. “And I need to check in with Eve.”
Jesse nodded and pulled her close for a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. “It wasn’t your fault.”
She managed a weak little smile and headed toward the house, their conversation heavy on her mind. She needed to think, process.
The living room was dark when she got inside. She turned on a lamp and walked down the hall, surprised to see the doors to both Mama’s and Blaze’s rooms closed. She heard low voices in Mama’s, so she knew Pop was with her. Some sort of screaming metallic sounds came from Blaze’s, so she figured she was busy, too.
She went into the kitchen and peered in the fridge, wondering what everyone had for dinner and who cooked it. Pop and Blaze both tried hard, but neither were very good at it. She saw a dried-out piece of chicken, a shriveled baked potato, and a nice-looking salad. No sign of Mama’s macaroni and cheese. She sighed, nuked the chicken and potato, and carried her plate out to the porch.
She rocked slowly while she picked at the food. She was almost done when Blaze appeared on the porch. She looked over at Sasha, shook her head, and kept going, slamming the screen door behind her.
“Hey, what’s that all about? Where are you going?”
Blaze ignored her and headed toward the dock. It wasn’t until she disappeared from sight that Sasha remembered. She’d told her she would watch some program with her tonight for a homework assignment. What time was it now? She checked her cell phone. It was after nine. Guilt slapped her hard. She’d done it again.
She dropped her plate on a side table and hurried after her. She finally found her on the bench outside the marina office and plopped down beside her.
“I screwed up, Blaze. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, I waited for you. You were too busy with Jesse to bother.”
Sasha heaved out a sigh. “It was lousy of me. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”
Blaze hopped up. “Don’t say anything. Just go back to where you came from. And don’t tell people you’re going to do something and then blow them off. That just sucks.”
She ran back to the house, and Sasha leaned her head against the rough boards of the building. Oh, dear God. Would she never get it right? She meant to help, to show up and be responsible. But she didn’t always remember to do what she’d promised. She let people down.
Disgusted with herself, she walked back to the house but detoured past her Jeep to grab her bag. She washed her dishes and took the bag upstairs to go over the file and call Eve. She’d get that much right tonight, at least. Her sister would no doubt have an itemized list of next steps for her to take.
She set the tote and her phone on the bed and reached in the bag. The file wasn’t there. She leaned closer and went through everything inside, then upended it on the bed. Nothing.
Her phone rang. “Hi, Eve.” She propped the phone between her ear and shoulder and tried to remember when she had the folder last.
“You’re ignoring me again.” As greetings went, it could use some work.
“Not on purpose. Just busy here.”
“Bring me up to date on what’s going on.”
Sasha filled her in on the note and the sandwich incident.
“A threat? You actually got a threat? Is everyone in that town crazy?”
“Maybe just one,” Sasha said, rifling the drawers of the dresser, though she was pretty sure she hadn’t tucked it in with her underwear.
“What are you doing?”
“Right now? Trying to find the file Nick gave me.”
“You lost the police file?” Sasha pulled the phone from her ear as Eve’s volume went to screech level.
“No, I didn’t lose it. I put it in my bag. I haven’t taken it out.”
Silence lengthened while they both considered the implications. “You think someone took it.”
“Someone obviously doesn’t want us looking into this, so yes, I think someone took it.”
Even huffed out a breath. “Now what?”
Chapter 13
Jesse went back to his shed, Sasha’s story on his mind. He knew all about regret, about trying to undo the past. Maybe he should have told her about Ethan’s death, but it wasn’t the right time.
He wiped his hands on a rag and shook his head as his thoughts slipped back in time. He hadn’t realized what Ethan was doing. Not until the moment they were arrested. If he had, he would have done . . . something. Even tried to borrow money from his father. He’d been so wrapped up in their business, in proving to his father he didn’t need him or his money, he’d let his friend down. It wasn’t a mistake he would make again.
But right now, he had to stay focused. He couldn’t get so tangled up in his feelings for Sasha that he missed some clue that would keep her safe.
Tied up in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the whisper of movement behind him until it was too late.
He turned his head toward the sound and saw a wrench headed for his head. He reached out to block the blow, but it wasn’t enough.
Pain exploded in his head, and he slumped to the floor. He heard men arguing, but he couldn’t place their voices, couldn’t distinguish anything but the throbbing in his skull.
Someone flipped him over, and he thumped his head on the concrete floor. Nausea threatened, but he tried to hold it back as he struggled to open his eyes. He wanted to fight back. Or, at least, see who was doing this. But he couldn’t get his eyes to open.
He took shallow breaths, trying to gather his strength to fight, when something pounded him in the middle of his chest. Once. Twice. Three times.
A low moan escaped. Through the haze of pain, he heard more whispered arguing. So at least two men, based on the voices.
He put his palms down beside him, prepared to stand up.
Another sharp pain in his ribs. He turned his head and threw up.
The beating stopped.
The voices stopped.
Blackness descended. This time, he didn’t fight it.
Jesse woke to someone moaning beside him. He tried to move, to see what was wrong. But then the sound came again, and he realized he was the one moaning. Everything hurt. He opened his eyes and slammed them shut again as sunlight poured through the dusty window and hit his face. His head throbbed, and when he opened his eyes and tried to focus, he realized there were three of everything. Dang. Concussion.
He tried to sit up and clenched his teeth against the pain. Since it had happened before, he knew he had some bruised ribs at the very least, if they weren’t fractured. What worried him was how hard it was to draw breath. He had to get up.
He rolled to his knees and waited for the room to stop spinning before he crawled over to the shelves along the wall and used them to pull himself to his feet. One agonizing inch at a time.
By the time he got all the way up, sweat ran down his back and his breath came in pants.
He turned, slowly, and shuffled his way toward the door, using the wall for support. The room wouldn’t stop spinning, but he couldn’t stop. He had to get these ribs looked at. Make sure he didn’t have a punctured lung. He couldn’t race with a punctured lung.
He wasn’t sure he could race with broken ribs, either, but he wouldn’t think about that right now. For the moment, he just needed air. Please, just enough air.
He stumbled out into the daylight and turned to look for Sasha. She would help him. He just had to find her. But the dizziness grabbed him again and spun him around, and somehow he was on the wooden dock. He felt something lick his face, and then everything went black.
Sasha handed the man his change. “There you go. Enjoy the charter. Captain Doug will make sure you have a good time.”
“Thanks. The family is looking forward to it.”
They both turned as Bella barked and bounded into th
e store, still barking. She raced over to Sasha and barked and nudged her knee. “What’s up, girl?”
Bella barked and raced back out, Sasha hot on her heels. She’d learned to pay attention when her dog acted like that. As she ran up the dock she wondered if the problem was with Mama, or Pop, or—
She skidded to a stop. Jesse lay facedown on the dock, halfway out the door of his shed. The back of his head was matted with dried blood. She immediately reached down and checked for a pulse. Thready, but there. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911, giving the particulars in short order.
Several people gathered around, and Pop pushed his way through. “Back up, folks. Give him some room.”
Sasha crouched beside him. “Jesse! Jesse, can you hear me?” He didn’t respond. She ran her hands over his body, looking for other obvious signs of trauma, but found nothing but the wound on his head. She didn’t want to turn him over and put that wound on the dock, maybe causing further damage.
Pop crouched down beside her. “Any other injuries?”
“Not that I can tell. He’s panting, so I know he’s breathing. I don’t want to cause more harm.”
Pop nodded, and they looked up as the county EMS vehicle pulled into the marina parking lot. Two muscled men in their twenties hurried down the dock, rolling a stretcher.
They cleared the crowd and crouched beside Jesse. Sasha gave them Jesse’s name and age and told them what she knew of his injuries. They conducted their own tests and quickly rolled him to his side, then loaded him onto the stretcher. The blond EMT looked at her. “Looks like a couple broken ribs, too. Do you know if he fell? Or if someone beat him up?”
Sasha stilled. “I really don’t know.”
Until that moment, she hadn’t thought about how Jesse got hurt. She stood and hurried back into the shed, but saw no signs that he’d fallen somewhere and hit his head. And how would he break ribs if he fell backward?
She shivered despite the heat and went back outside as the EMTs started rolling the stretcher toward the ambulance. Jesse hadn’t stirred.