With Every Breath

by Beverly Bird

  Maddie leaned back against the counter. She was overwhelmed, a little by what he had said, but mostly by the poetic way in which he’d said it.

  "But it’s not always like that," she said softly.

  His eyes narrowed on her. "No. It’s just that the potential is always there for the love to twist, turn, and become something nasty. Not the slow and respectful kind, the mutual-interest kind. Not something that’s purely physical—I have a whole separate bunch of theories for that," he admitted with a self-deprecating twist of his mouth. "Like I said, I don’t think either of those things are love. I’m talking about that sudden-impact thing."

  "But that’s still just . . . sexual. A male-female thing. There’s the love of a parent for a child, that sort of thing. That’s different."

  He flinched again. Yes, it had been different with Lucy. But not so very different. "Would you kill to save Josh?" he asked evenly.

  She didn’t miss a beat. "Yes."

  "For him, as much as for yourself. Because your heart couldn’t bear to lose him, or have him harmed."

  She nodded slowly.

  "I rest my case."

  Joe drained his coffee, trying deliberately to shake off the strange mood that had settled over him. "Anyway, I believe you about Rick. I’ve been thinking about it, and I can understand a man being unable to let go." And there was one other reason, he thought. He needed to eliminate suspects so he could figure out who he was watching out for. If it wasn’t Rick who was taunting her, then he wanted to find out in short order so he could start watching the other faces on the island.

  Maddie hadn’t realized how desperately she had needed someone to believe her until her knees almost gave out. "Thank you." She hesitated. "So what do we do now?"

  "A few things. First of all, I’ve got No-Name in my truck."

  "In your truck?"

  "I’m going to take him over to the mainland for an autopsy." Maybe he wasn’t as good, as experienced, as a city cop, he thought, but he was going to take a stab at not acting like a small-town one. "You’re coming with me," he went on flatly. "You and Josh. I don’t want you here alone while I leave the island."

  Maddie turned for the hall. "I’ll wake him."

  "Wait," he said, snagging her wrist, then letting it go just as quickly because her skin was so damned smooth and warm. "One other thing. I need to drop your house key off at the station. I’m going to have somebody drive up here and dust that back window for prints, the one that was open last night."

  "The rain ..." she began.

  "Yeah, I know. But it's worth a shot. Whoever came in went out that way, too, because your door was locked. Maybe they left some prints on the inside. I’ve got Rick’s file coming in from Fort Lauderdale. Maybe we’ll be able to match them."

  Maddie nodded urgently. "He left his car behind, with Josh in it. His prints would have to have been in there. And he was in the service. They’d have a copy of them, right?"

  "Either way, we’ll get them," Joe agreed. "In the meantime, I’ve got three patrol cars on the island. I’m going to have them cruising up here today." It was going to mean logging in some overtime, and city council was going to be pissed, but he knew those guys fairly well, and he thought he could probably push it past them. "I’ve told them to stop and question anybody they don’t know," he finished.

  Maddie gave a strange, pitched little laugh. "I knew coming here was a good idea."

  "How so?" he asked almost warily.

  "It’s so small, so isolated. A strange face would probably stand out here like a sore thumb, right? And there’s no way a strange face could even get here without you knowing about it."

  He gave a small, twisted grin. "Theoretically." Then he hesitated. "Listen . . . don’t get your hopes up, okay? It could be Graycie, or it could be ... anybody."

  She flinched. "I guess you’ve got to think that way." "Yeah. I do."

  She went to wake Josh. Joe went to the back window, the one that had been open last night. He studied it without touching it, trying to remember where and exactly how he had closed it last night. He wanted badly to believe that there were invisible prints all over the sash, just waiting to tell their story. But he knew, in his gut, that it wasn’t going to be that easy.

  Gina Gallen fidgeted in the last pew in the back of the Methodist church. She found it almost impossible not to dance her foot, and she heard not a word of the

  sermon.

  It wasn’t her church anyway. She was Catholic. She normally attended St. Matthew’s, three blocks to the north and over by the beach. But Cassie Diehl was Methodist, and if anyone knew what had happened last night up on The Wick, it would be Cassie.

  After an interminable length of time, the service ended. Gina stayed seated as people streamed up the aisle on their way to the door. She had spotted Cassie when she had come in, and she had been way up at the front. Gina waited for her.

  Cassie was hard to miss. She wore the most horrendous, burnt orange suit, with a bolero jacket that had gone out of style eons ago. The skirt was too long, in Gina’s estimation, and it made Cassie’s knees seem even bonier than usual. Her calves stuck out from beneath the hem like a bird’s legs.

  When Cassie reached Gina’s pew, Gina stood up, smiling widely. "Hi there."

  Cassie almost jumped. She was that startled to see her. "What are you doing here?"

  Gina fell into step beside her. "I just wanted to see how the other half sins. And I wanted to talk to you. What happened up on The Wick last night? Have you heard?" Cassie stumbled. She hadn’t heard much of anything of interest lately. "The Wick?" she repeated carefully. She’d heard sirens, but they had been going south.

  "With Maddie Brogan," Gina persisted.

  "I haven’t—"

  "Somebody killed her cat," said Mildred Diehl, coming up behind them. Both Cassie and Gina whipped around to look at her.

  "Mama!" Cassie was furious. "When did you hear that? Why didn’t you tell me?"

  Mildred ignored her, thumping heavily with her cane. "Somebody killed her cat," she repeated. "Broke in a window to do it. Leslie Mendehlson says it’s the same person killed her folks. Now things’ll happen." She seemed very pleased by that prospect.

  "Just a cat?" Gina asked, disappointed. "Joe was so angry."

  "You saw Joe?" Mildred asked. "He coming around again finally?"

  Gina flushed. "He just stopped by real quick to ask me if I knew anything. He knows I try to keep my eye on things for him."

  "Well," Mildred said with a huffy sniff. The cane thump-smacked from the carpeted aisle onto the vinyl-floored anteroom. "You’d better get him doing more’n that, girl, or you’re gonna lose him now for sure."

  "She’s already lost him," Cassie snapped.

  Her mother gave her a pitying look. "Don’t be stupid. Ain’t seen him marrying nobody else, now have you? He don’t even date nobody." She leaned-her cane against the wall and struggled into her coat. "Yet," she added.

  "Yet?" Gina aped. "What do you mean, yet?"

  "He was up at her house last night and bright and early this morning, too." Mildred shook her head. "Girl’s been trouble ever since Annabel hatched her. Never did know enough to just accept she was a Wick kid and leave it at that."

  "Pictures," Cassie sneered. "Like we all don’t own a camera."

  "She went to Florida. You know what they do in places like that," Mildred said darkly. "Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if there wasn’t no husband around, if she made him up to cover her sin, if you get my meaning." "Joe was there this morning?" Gina repeated helplessly. "Next thing, he’ll be spending the night up there," Mildred went on as though she hadn’t heard her. "Mark my words. You’re running all out of time to get him back, girl."

  Gina turned away from them. She began pushing her way past the people still blocking the door, and several turned to look at her, startled and angry. Cassie took off after her.

  "Gina! Wait! What are you doing?"

  Damn her! Damn that Brogan bitch! Gina cr
ied silently. She had been nice to her, taking her that cake, asking about her stupid kid. She’d known she wanted

  Joe, just from the way she was staring at him the other night at the Sandbar.

  Oh, God, she thought, oh, God. She finally made it out onto the sidewalk and stood looking around dazedly. She couldn’t let this happen.

  Joe Gallen was hers, she reminded herself. Everybody knew that. Nobody else dared to go near him, no matter how good he looked, except that stupid bitch Flannery Reed. Fair game, that was what Flannery had called him, until Gina had set her straight with what might happen to her little dog if she kept hanging onto him.

  Sure, things had gone a little sour, she thought, fighting tears. He’d said he wanted a divorce and she’d started drinking too much, as much to show him that she couldn’t live without him as anything else. But she knew that didn’t matter. She could have other kids. He’d get over it. She was giving him time, and it was working.

  He never fought back when she started in on him. He was always late with his money nearly every single month, and she knew that was so she would have to call, so he could talk to her. He loved her. And she loved him. Always. And the sex had been so incredible.

  When she’d opened her door last night and had seen him standing there in the rain, she’d thought he had finally come around. She’d planned to make him beg just a very little, but then she would have given in. It had felt so good, that euphoria that had hummed through her at the sight of him. She had never felt anything like it before, not even when he had asked her to marry him.

  He’s back. That was what she had thought. But then it turned out that he was only there because of Madeline Brogan. That bitch.

  Gina hurried to her car and fumbled with her keys. A few minutes later, she was finally flying north up the boulevard. She ran the red light at the center of the island. No one would ticket her. She was Joe’s wife.

  Angus was just coming up over the closest, biggest dune behind Maddie’s house when Gina bulleted over the promontory. She skidded into the puddles in the driveway at 110, breathing hard.

  The Pathfinder wasn’t there. Maddie Brogan’s car was. Gina got out, slamming her own car door hard.

  Angus came around the deck, watching her warily.

  "Where’s Joe?" she demanded.

  "Took her. They went away."

  Gina ran up onto the deck anyway. She pounded on the door. There was no answer.

  And she realized that Angus was right, that they had gone somewhere. Together. She whirled around again. Angus was still standing beside the house.

  "Where did they go?"

  "They went together."

  "I know that, you stupid ass. Where? Did they say where?"

  Angus shrugged.

  He watched the lady who was Joe’s wife, except Angus wasn’t sure she was anymore because everybody said Joe hated her. She picked up a rock from the driveway and threw it furiously at the windshield of Maddie’s car. A great big spiderweb of cracks flashed across the glass.

  "Hey!" Angus yelled. "Don’t you do that! Bad! Bad!"

  Gina picked up another rock.

  Angus moved faster than he had in a very long time. He ran to her, his big feet shuffling as quickly as he could make them. He caught her from behind with a hand on each arm and lifted her right off her feet without effort.

  Gina screamed. "You stupid retard, let me go!" "You’re bad. Don’t hurt Maddie’s car."

  She tried to flail her legs to kick him, but he held her far enough in front of him that she couldn’t manage it. He carried her back to her car. He put her down by the passenger door, but he stood in front of her, his big bulk protecting Maddie’s car and everything else behind him.

  "When Joe comes back, tell him . . . tell him ..." She was too wild, too anguished to think clearly.

  "What?" Angus asked, already concentrating hard so he could remember what she said.

  "Tell him if he lays a finger on her, I’ll kill him," she panted. "I’ll take him back to court. I’ll get twice as much money. I can barely live on what he gives me anyway."

  Angus nodded seriously. "I’ll tell him."

  "Tell him if he touches her, I’ll make his life a living hell," she finished, but she suddenly felt like crying. "Oh, Christ, listen to me. You’re too goddamned stupid to remember any of this. Never mind, I’ll find him and tell him myself."

  Actually, Angus kind of agreed that it might be a very bad thing for Joe to touch Maddie. It made his own belly feel sort of sick.

  Gina got back in her car and drove off. God, her arms hurt. She lifted one and rolled her shoulder gingerly as she crossed back over the bridge. That stupid retard had really hurt her.

  Well, she’d make him pay, too.

  Chapter 14

  They reached the ferry just as its engines started rumbling. Joe leaned on the horn of the Pathfinder, and Harry Reiter looked up from the stem, where he was throwing off the mooring lines. He held up a hand and went ponderously to reopen the gates at the drive-on ramp.

  Maddie glanced into the backseat. Josh was sitting very still, buckled into his seat belt. His eyes weren’t exactly glazed, as they had been last night, but they were too dull for her comfort.

  He had been doing so well. She bit back a groan and faced forward again. At least he had woken up. She admitted to herself, since the fear was behind her, that she’d been terrified that she wouldn’t be able to rouse him. The terror had bloomed, stealing her breath when she’d had to shake him once, twice, then three times to get him out of that deep sleep.

  Hiding, she thought again. Oh, baby, there’s nowhere left to go.

  She realized that was true in a literal sense as well.

  They were virtually at the end of the world there. There was nowhere left to run, to hide. But Rick had found them anyway, and Candle Island was turning out to be far from a hospitable place after all.

  "I just don’t see why Leslie felt it necessary to tell me all that today," she murmured, almost to herself.

  Joe glanced at her, then drove the truck onto the ferry. "She probably had some shrink-type reason."

  They parked and got out of the Pathfinder. Josh unbuckled himself at her urging and came to stand close beside her. He dug his fingers into her jeans at her thigh.

  "Rough today," Harry said, coming down to greet them. Maddie was relieved that he didn’t stare at her this time. "Lots of chop left over from last night’s storm. Got Dramamine in the pilothouse if you want some." "Thanks," Joe said. "We’ll let you know."

  He put a hand to the small of Maddie’s back and urged her toward the rail. She tried not to think about how warm his touch was. And it wasn’t really comforting this time. It seemed to shoot little spasms of sensation out into her skin, even through her coat.

  In spite of herself, she thought again of the conversation they’d had that morning. Obsession, she thought. Desperation. Compulsion. And how easily love could slide over into that descent. It had not been an entirely new thought to her. Ever since Rick had shot Ronnie Sanchez, she had known love was dangerous. It could destroy life and turn it upside down.

  And it was not just her own life she was concerned with. She had to think of Josh’s peace of mind as well. She didn’t dare get involved again, and yet there she stood, shivering at the touch of a man’s hand at the small of her back. Needing him, if only to believe in her. "What?" Joe asked, feeling her tremor.

  Instinctively, self-protectively, Maddie lied. "I was wondering . . . have you talked to Harry about what happened?"

  Joe hesitated only briefly. "Yeah. The ferry didn’t run yesterday because of the weather."

  "So Rick couldn’t have come over on it."

  "Not yesterday." Joe looked down at Josh. Maddie followed his gaze and knew what he was thinking. She was touched all over again.

  "I don’t think it’s necessary to keep shielding him," she said quietly. Though josh didn’t appear to be listening, she was pretty sure he was. "He’s a big, strong boy, and th
e truth can be comforting as well as horrifying. I mean, we’re aware of what’s happening, and we’re fighting it. We’re not just sitting ducks this time. We can fight back. Right, Josh?"

  He looked up at her slowly and blankly. She’d already told him that they were going to the mainland to find out if the storm had hurt the kitten, or if maybe somebody else had done it. She knew he was too smart not to pick up on all their tension, so it had seemed best to include him in what they were doing. And if Leslie Mendehlson disagreed, then she could just go to hell, Maddie thought.

  Once again, Joe seemed to read her mind.

  "I think that’s the line of reasoning Leslie was using when she smacked you upside the head with the truth this morning. I think she thought you’d just be better off knowing. People are sure going to be whispering about it and pointing at you after this."

  Maddie nodded grudgingly. "She pointed out that I probably would have heard it somewhere, sooner or later."

  "I’d put money on it," Joe agreed. "You get seasick?" The ferry was beginning to pitch and roll a little. In

  fact, she did feel a little queasy. "I guess we’ll find out." She looked back up at the pilothouse, where Harry Reiter had disappeared. "Did he have any strangers on board the day before yesterday?"

  Again, Joe hesitated. "He says no."

  "What about the docks?" she persisted. "I mean, Rick could have rented a boat and come over on his own." She was truly bothered by how he had breached Candle’s natural security. Was she wrong about its being him?

  "I’ve got somebody talking to the skippers down there today," Joe replied. "But I called most of the owners and captains first thing this morning. They didn’t notice any strange boats around."