by Chris Niles
But in America, Gloria thought, he didn’t have the law in his pocket. Here, he was as much of a criminal as she was. Perhaps here, she could finally put an end to the Irishman.
That would certainly win Papa’s respect. He would have no choice but to name her his successor.
She called to one of the men standing guard on the ship’s upper deck. “I need to know where the Irishman has been. What he’s doing. If this is him, I must know.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He spun and hurried toward the bridge, his sat phone already to his ear.
Gloria turned to the bloody courier dangling from the overhead of the dingy hold, and slapped the flat blade of a knife against her palm. “Now, back to you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kate glanced at the bathroom mirror, touched up her mascara, and gave her damp curls one more scrunch. Halfway through her cabin, she stopped short. Instead of the dock leading to the seawall and the thick seagrape hedge, the channel and the little uninhabited hammock of Horseshoe Key stretched out ahead of her.
I’m Alice.
Ever since docking the boat bow-first, she’d felt turned around in her own home. Inside, everything was right, but the light fell on the wrong side of the room. Even Whiskey took an extra beat when she opened the door before running up the dock to do his business.
She spun on the ball of her bare foot and zipped out the glass door of the salon, grabbing her dress flip-flops from a basket beside the door.
Running up the concrete steps, she tugged at the dark gray skirt — the only skirt she owned.
This is a bad idea.
She turned back toward Serenity, but a shout from near the bathhouse at the end of the parking lot stopped her.
“Miss Kate!” Eddie sprinted toward her across the crushed coral. “Miss Kate! I helped Tony make a shower today!”
Kate crouched, then realized her skirt was dragging in the dusty gravel, and bunched it up in her fist. “You what? Tell me all about it.”
“We made a hose, but not like a hose you use on the driveway, this one was white and straight and we made pieces where it turns and goes up and then when you pull a string it spits water out on your head like a real shower but it’s outside…”
Tony trotted up behind them, chuckling. “He helped me work on the outdoor shower. Works like a charm, too. He’s a good little helper, when he’s not sitting on the storage compartments and keeping my tools away from me.”
“I sat way up high and held everything togepher.”
“Yes, you did, buddy. You were really helpful.” Tony reached out and helped Kate back to her feet. “He sat up on my shoulders and held the brackets as I screwed them in. Super-helpful, especially when we dropped one.”
“That only happened …” the little boy stopped and counted on his fingers, “Four times.”
“And my calves are still screaming. I’m not used to doing squats with an extra forty-five pounds on my back. Now, go tell Mister Chuck you need to clean up before your dinner.”
Eddie took off across the parking lot then scurried up the steps to the deck.
“Wish I had that kind of energy. The kid never slows down.”
Tony took Kate’s hand and whirled her around, her skirt flying out in a wide circle. “You look lovely this evening, Miss Kingsbury.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks and her gaze dropped to the chipped nail polish on her left big toe. Tony led her to his truck and opened the door. The stupid skirt caught on her knee, and she tried again, bunching it up in her fist.
“Why women wear these things, I’ll never know.”
Tony’s eyes twinkled. “Because men love it when you do.” He closed the door with a gentle click, then rounded the front of the truck, his lean calves bulging below his pressed khaki shorts.
As he hopped into the driver’s seat, Kate flicked the sharp crease in the sleeve of his white collared shirt. “I didn’t realize you owned an iron.”
“I don’t. Babette did it for me. Said if I was gonna take you out, I had to look like it was a real date.”
“That… She’s the one who told me I had to wear this stupid skirt.”
As they made their way down the lane past Babette’s fifth-wheel, she was outside watering the many containers of tomatoes, cucumbers, and flowers in pots around her deck. She straightened up, waved, and shot them a wide grin.
“Yenta strikes again.”
Tony slowed as he guided the big truck around a tight curve in the lane. “Look, Kate, I know this isn’t… you’re not… ” His words trailed off to the crunch of tires on gravel.
When they reached the highway, Kate checked for traffic to the left, then finally sucked in a breath. “I haven’t been out with anyone since Danny. I know it’s been a long time, but everything still reminds me of him.” She took a deep breath. “Tony, I like you. Probably more than I’m comfortable with. But I’m still not over him, and that’s not fair. Not fair to him. Not fair to you. Hell, it’s not fair to me. I just don’t know how to do this, and not lose—”
The truck eased to a stop in front of a red light, and Tony’s piercing blue eyes turned toward her and held her gaze. “I don’t expect you to get ‘over’ him. You were in love, and he was taken from you. That’s not something you get over. I’ve never lost a woman like that, but I lost buddies in action. That’s different, sure. But I know a little bit about grieving, and I know you don’t just get over people who matter to you. But you do get to keep living. Even when it feels like a little piece of you died with him, you get to keep living. You have to keep living. Do you think Danny would want you to just stick your heart in a box and bury it with him?”
Kate felt her head shaking, as if of its own volition.
“He loved you and he would want you to live a full—” He cut himself off. “If this is too much, just say so, but let me ask you this: What did the two of you imagine your life would be like? What did you dream about? Did you want kids? Were you gonna travel? What did retirement look like?”
Her stomach tightened, and the tension rolled up her back and down her arms to where she found her hands balled up in little fists. As the truck eased forward, she stretched her fingers wide then lay them on her knees. She stared out the windshield as the truck climbed up the Cow Key bridge then turned right onto Roosevelt.
She focused on the horizon, her head easing to the right as the truck rounded the northeastern tip of the island and pointed into the evening sun. Tony dropped his aviators down to the bridge of his nose, and her breath caught in her throat. “I … we … Why do you want to know this stuff? I can’t just… you’re not interchangeable.”
He turned, and she caught her reflection in his mirrored sunglasses, a streak of mascara stretching down her cheek.
“I don’t ever want to take his place, Kate. Nor do I want to erase him. I always want to respect his place in your heart. And in order to do that, I want to know him. And I think you need to figure out what dreams were yours together, and which ones belong to you on your own.”
Kate swallowed. She pulled the visor down, flipped the little mirror open, and stretched a finger up to wipe the thin black streak from her cheek.
Suddenly, the sunlight was blocked by something huge, and her body jerked against the seatbelt. She heard a heavy thud. Felt a rush of air blast her back against the seat. An acrid burnt stench filled the truck’s cab. Her ears shrieked. As the sparks in her vision faded, the spiderweb of the windshield came into focus. Limp, white airbags hung in front of her, and dangled in front of—
“Tony!”
She slapped at the latch for her seatbelt, fumbling until it finally released her. Tony’s head lolled to the side, his sunglasses bent and dangling across his cheek. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth.
Kate began to scream.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Strong hands wrapped around her shoulders, pinning her arms, and pulling her out into the street. Seagull calls were drowned out by sirens wailing
in the distance, growing louder. Closer.
The pavement felt rough and hot under her thighs. Hands. Armpits. Bent knees. She was in the air again, backward. Gold and pink clouds floated in blue above a stoplight glowing in the sky. Then more bodies. Dark blue uniformed shirts. Bright light in one eye, then the other. A muffled voice.
“Ma’am. Ma’am. Can you tell me your name?”
She blinked a few times, fighting to clear her mind and remember. “Kate. Kate Kingsbury. My name is Kate.”
“And the driver? What’s his name?”
Her head jerked to the side and she fought to sit up. “Tony! Where’s Tony? Is he hurt?”
“Do you remember what happened, ma’am?”
More sirens wailed as Kate tried to access her memory. A streak of makeup. A mirror. A crash. “No. I… was looking in the mirror. Not … Tony!”
“The EMTs are with him now. We’re gonna get both of you over to the hospital for a check—”
She reached to rub her right shoulder, then jerked away from her own touch.
“Yeah, you’ve got a nasty bruise starting and a little friction burn from the seatbelt. You’ll probably have the same on your hip. But it looks like your seat was back far enough that the airbag didn’t break your nose. The doctors will want to check you out more thoroughly, but I think you’re gonna be all right.”
“What about Tony? I need—”
“Shhh, I can check on him, but I need you to stay right here, okay?” The man turned to his partner. “Keep her calm, don’t let her move. I’ll go check on the driver.”
Kate tried to sit up, but the uniformed woman gently held her to the sidewalk. “Kate, I need you to stay still until we know you don’t have any serious injuries, okay?”
She flopped back on the rough sidewalk and blinked up into the sky. Everything was a blur. They’d been talking about Danny. Driving. The stupid mascara. And Tony. Those sunglasses, his loose blonde curls and neatly trimmed 3-day stubble. His soft, patient smile.
If he was hurt. If he was dead? Her breath stopped halfway into her lungs, her throat tight. She tried to roll, but the EMT held her. She forced more air into her lungs, then counted as she pushed it back out into the universe, watching as a gull landed on the horizontal bar of the stoplight, and the light turned from green to yellow to red. Finally, the other EMT crouched beside her, blocking the bright sun.
“Kate, Tony’s going to be okay. It looks like he’s got a concussion and probably a broken nose. The airbag hit him pretty hard. But he’s awake and alert. We’re gonna take him back to the hospital to get a more thorough checkout. They’re loading him now, and we’ll get you into the bus in just a minute. Is there anyone we can call for you? Family or neighbors, maybe?”
Kate started to shake her head, then paused. “Chuck. Call Chuck Miller at Shark Key Marina. He’ll take care of—” A sharp siren cut her off as Tony’s ambulance eased out into traffic and shot up the other side of Roosevelt toward Stock Island.
Then a medic crouched down beside Kate and began to examine her. Turning her head, pressing and prodding. Finally, he let her sit up.
“I think you’re gonna be okay, Miss Kingsbury. Let’s see how you do sitting up for a minute, and if that goes okay, then we’ll try walking a bit.” He held Kate to the low lip between the sidewalk and the seawall. She sat, her feet planted wide and her knees jutting up, with the ridiculous gray skirt draping to the sidewalk between them. She leaned forward, wrapped her arms around her knees, and rested her forehead on her crossed forearms.
“What … what happened? It’s all a blur.”
The medic rested his hand on her back. “Tourist stepped into the street. The other guy swerved, lost control, tipped, and caught you guys on his way over. He’s pretty banged up, but he’s lucky he was wearing his seatbelt. If he’d been in one of these little rental cars, he’d have done a full roll, and you’d have crushed him. He’ll be okay, but your friend’s truck might have driven its last mile.”
Kate lifted her head and tried to focus on the chaos in the middle of the street. Traffic was stopped on the north side by the water, police cruisers sat with their lights flashing a couple hundred yards on either side, funneling traffic to the eastbound side of the four-lane road. Between Kate and the long string of slow-moving traffic, Tony’s spotless black truck leaned forward, the near-side of the short bed jutting up into the air. Sparkles of tempered glass lay strewn across the street beneath it, the front window shattered, and the side window missing. The passenger-side airbag lay half out the missing window.
A few yards further west, a white box truck lay on its side facing the wrong direction in the left lane of Roosevelt, its refrigeration unit still groaning as it fought the still evening heat. In the middle of the street, she watched as a short, tanned man with dark hair waved and pointed, presumably explaining the accident to yet another uniformed officer.
Kate pushed herself forward into a squat, and then slowly rose to her feet, the EMT gently guiding her elbow. She stretched, testing her balance and finding new aches and bruises. Her stiff muscles and joints loosened as she moved, and after a few laps between the streetlights, she looked up at the medic and nodded. “I think I got this.”
As she spoke, she looked up the street to see Chuck’s Wagoneer making its way past the police blockade and easing up toward her. He stopped, and both front doors burst open. Babette ran toward Kate, wrapping her in a tight hug. Kate flinched.
“OW! Careful, there.” She stepped back and waved up, then back down her body. “Victim, here.”
Babette hopped back a step. “Oh, sorry, I just… We were scared.”
Chuck gently draped an arm around Kate’s shoulders, just barely touching her.
“They took Tony up to the hospital. Can we…”
Chuck jogged over to the EMT, then returned a moment later. “You’re clear to go. We’ll head over there, and then I’ll call and get all the details for Tony about where they’re taking the truck. Don’t you worry about a thing.”
Babette opened the front passenger door for Kate. Kate lifted her foot, but as she looked through the windshield, her mind flashed an image of the box truck looming ahead of them, and she stepped back onto the pavement. “I think maybe I’ll sit in back?”
Babette smiled and helped Kate settle into the back seat, her body was already stiffening from the brief rest as they talked. “I think I’m gonna need a lot of ibuprofen tonight.”
Kate glanced at the empty child seat behind Chuck’s seat. “Who’s got Eddie?”
Babette twisted in her seat. “William and Michelle took him out for a walk with all the dogs. They thought it’d help to wear him out a little bit.”
Kate grinned. “It’ll help me to have Whiskey worn out, too.”
As Chuck eased his truck into the left turn lane, Kate tensed, then focused on the worn maroon floor mats. He eased the truck up a two-lane road lined with thick seagrapes, rounded the curve, then turned left into the parking lot for the only hospital in the lower keys. After parking, the three of them walked together to the emergency entrance and gave their names to the receptionist.
“Good. Ms. Kingsbury, he’s been asking for you since they brought him in here. I can take you back, but your friends will need to wait here.”
Chuck and Babette settled into the waiting area while Kate followed the nurse through the swinging doors and into a curtained bay. Tony lay propped up in a hospital bed with an ice pack draped across his eyes and nose.
“If you’re not Kate, get out,” he mumbled.
Kate winked at the receptionist. As the woman stepped backward, Kate straightened the collar of his white shirt, then pulled her fingers though his curly hair and whispered in his ear. “You sure know how to show a girl a good time.”
He shot forward in the bed, nearly cracking Kate in the forehead with his own skull, and dropping the ice pack in his lap. “You’re okay. Thank God. They wouldn’t tell me anything, I was afraid it was because—”
>
“Tony, lay yourself back down. I’m fine. You’re the one who got the blunt end of that airbag.”
“Kate, that guy came out of nowhere.”
“Yeah, he did. They said he swerved to miss a pedestrian. He’s okay, but it looks like you’ve got yourself a nasty bump on the head there, my friend. Has the doctor been in yet?”
He shook his head, then pressed his fingers to his temples. “I’ve got a hell of a headache and I see two of you, but I’ve lived through worse. They’re talking about CT scans and MRIs, but I’m ready to bust out of here.” He glanced around the little curtained bay. “How did you—”
“Chuck. He and Babette are out in the waiting room.”
A slow grin crept all the way up Tony’s eyes. “I think it’s time for a jailbreak.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Tony, I can’t let you go to sleep like this.”
“Like what? I’m fine. Just a little headache is all.”
Kate shoved the air from her lungs and began to count. She got to three before she exploded. “You have a concussion. You are not fine. Your pupils are the size of the new moon. Sure, I let you break out of the hospital because, well, I wouldn’t want to be in that place unless I was dying, and if I was dying, I’d want to be in a chopper to Miami. But you are far from fine. I will not let you sleep and fall into a coma and—”
Tony lowered the ice pack and took her hand. “And die? Cher, I’m not gon’ die on you. I promise.”
Kate squeezed his cold hand, then pushed it — and the ice pack — back onto his face. “I appreciate that. But it’s a promise you can’t be sure to keep.”
He nodded. “Well, how ’bout this? I promise I’ll do everything in my power to not die on you. I plan to watch you grow old, whether you like it or not.
A flood of adrenaline shot down to Kate’s toes. Her gaze jumped from Tony to the door of his Airstream, then back to the man who’d become a fixture in her life, even though she hadn’t planned on it.