Echoes From The Water: (A Dangerous Waters Thriller Series: Book One)

by David Banner

"I know Micah,” she said. "He knows better than that. He would never believe that you've given up on him."

  "I hope that's true,” I said. "It's just been so long."

  "That’s not your fault,” Rachel said. "You haven't stopped thinking about him since all of this began. Everything you've done has been for your brother. He'll know that when gets out of there."

  Her words fell on me like a soft ocean mist. That’s all I wanted, for my brother to get out and have the freedom he deserves. The kind of freedom I could never give him. "Do you think I smothered him?" I asked.

  "What?" Rachel said.

  "Do you think I smothered him? That I watched him too hard, made him keep his profile too low? That I held him back from something?"

  "Listen," Rachel said. "I know you think you held him back, but you didn't. You couldn't if you tried. Micah is the center of every room he walks into. No one can hold him back. He has too much of his brother in him for that."

  Maybe she was right. Maybe Micah would understand that I had done all of this for him. Maybe he wouldn't hate me, there was no way for me to know. All I could do was hope and pray that she was right.

  'Ding!'

  The low echo of something rang through the air.

  "What was that?" I asked.

  "My phone,” Rachel replied.

  "You still have your phone on you?" I asked.

  "Yeah,” Rachel said. "I didn't see the harm. No one knew who I was until that basement incident. Besides, it was powered off. I only turned it on a few hours ago to let them know I'd be out of work for a while. I guess I just forgot to turn it back off." She pulled the phone from her pocket.

  "Oh my God!" she said, reading the text message.

  "What?” I asked, pulling the phone from her hand.

  “Come back to Anna Maria. Face me, admit to everything you've done and your brother can go free. 1165 Waterford Way. 9:00am,” the screen read.

  "Back just in time!" Hope said, plopping down beside me.

  "It's a trap!" Rachel said. "Don't go there."

  "Well of course it’s a trap,” Hope said. "But I have a plan."

  "So... we're not going?" Rachel asked.

  "I'm going,” I said.

  "Damned right!” Hope said. "Back to Anna Maria!"

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  T HERE WAS SOMETHING RIDICULOUSLY BEAUTIFUL ABOUT THIS PARTICULAR MORNING. Maybe it was knowing I might not see another one, maybe it was the fact that I knew the rest of my days could very well be spent behind bars. Maybe it was Anna Maria Island itself. After all, it turned out this place was a gem in the Gulf.

  Though I had dealt with more than my fair share of drama since coming here, I had come to appreciate this island as more than the most troublesome place I had ever been in my over quarter century on this spinning blue rock. I came to see the beauty in its land, in its architecture, in the way everything seemed to tilt toward the water. Hell, I had even come to see the beauty in the people of this island... all but one.

  "You didn't have to come with me," I said, turning toward both Hope and Rachel, who were standing on either side of the rental car we'd planned to take to Mexico City, a car that would now be speeding as fast as its wheels could take it back to Miami, regardless of what the people inside of it say.

  "Don't be like that," Rachel said, shaking her head. "We're in this now, and there's no reason for us to pull up stakes now."

  "Except that there is," I answered with resolve. "First of all, the damned text this psychopath sent explicitly told me to come alone. Since I'm turning myself in, I don't see the need in pissing him off by bringing other people along." I took a deep breath. "Besides, you've given enough to me already." I looked to Hope. "You both have. And it's not like we don't have a plan," I said, remembering what Hope told me and patting my chest. "As long as I have my secret weapon here, it's not like anything can go wrong."

  "When you say wrong, do you mean like Mayor Hall killing you in cold blood?" Hope asked, her eyebrows raised. "Because, in case you forgot, that's what he did to my father."

  "Hope," I started.

  "What will that secret weapon help if you're dead?" she asked, cutting me off.

  "It'll help Micah," I answered.

  "Screw Micah," Hope scoffed bitterly.

  "You take that back," I answered, anger rising in me. Micah was the only thing that mattered right now. He was the entire reason I was content to do something this ass-backwards.

  "I've never met your brother,” she answered. "But if he's the kind of person who would be okay with you sacrificing yourself for him like this, then he isn't worth saving. And, if he's not the kind of person who would be okay with it, then why disrespect him by making a decision you know he'd be against."

  "Because this isn't about what he would or wouldn't want," I answered tersely. "Lord knows he's too stupid to know what's good for him ninety percent of the time anyway. I'm the big brother, Hope. That's the point. It's my job to keep him safe, even if it means hurting myself in the process. I don't give a damn what his choice would be. This is mine."

  "It's a bad one," she said flatly.

  "Maybe," I answered. "But it's the only one I have. Now please, this is going to be hard enough without fighting you two tooth-and-nail the entire way. The two of you have meant more to me during this time than I could ever explain. I wouldn't be here without either of you, but I am here. I'm here, and this is my fight now. We've won together so many times. If I'm going to lose now, let me do it myself."

  Hope stared at me for a long time. Then rounding the car, scooped me into a hug. "This is stupid but, like I said, I'm not surprised. You've been stubborn since we met. You be safe, and don't forget what I told you."

  "I won't," I promised, whispering into her ear.

  As she let go of me, Rachel took her turn. Saying goodbye to Hope was hard. Saying goodbye to Rachel would be damned near impossible. Next to Micah, she was the most important person in my life.

  "It's not goodbye," she said to me, battling the tears in her eyes.

  "I hope not," I answered, leaning in and kissing her.

  She pulled away quickly, crumbling into the car and burying her face in the seat.

  "You go get him," Hope said, looking up at the sun. "You don't have much time now."

  "No," I said, shaking my head and looking at two of the most incredible women I'd ever met. "I guess I don't." As I drove away I refused to look in the rearview mirror, focusing only on the drive ahead of me. It was hard, but it made the time go by.

  The address from the text turned out to be an abandoned farmhouse at the edge of town. The mailbox was old and rusted, and the name on it was faded and illegible.

  The house, for its part, didn't look nearly as bad as its overgrown and obviously untended surroundings. White shutters so aged they had taken on a yellow tint and a roof sunken in on one side, it was obvious this place had seen its better days.

  As I walked toward it, I realized that maybe I had as well. If this was the trap that both Hope and Rachel thought it was, then I would very likely either never seen the other side of this building, or I'd be carted away from it in handcuffs.

  I took a deep breath, shaking those thoughts out of my head. They would do no good. They would only serve to make me weak, and I couldn't afford to be weak right now. I had to be strong for Micah's sake.

  Pushing open the door, I heard the damned thing creak so much it nearly screamed. The hairs on my arm stood up as I looked around the dusty, broken, dilapidated area. Furnished with vintage 1970s looking shag carpet and furnishings, I was instantly transported back to a time long passed away.

  Blinking, I wondered why I was here and just what I was going to find inside. Mayor Hall had just been shot. Even though he hadn't died, he had to be severely injured. What the hell was he even doing outside of the hospital? It must have been that, when you're the mayor, even doctor's orders fall by the wayside.

  "I bet this place was a hell of a sight back in the day," a
voice sounded from beside me. I shook, reaching for the gun at my hip and turning toward the voice.

  "Don't bother with that," the man said lazily. "You won't need it. I'm not here to hurt you, Brandon. In fact, I'm about to become your best friend."

  Turning, I saw a lanky and familiar figure standing at the bottom of the cracked and broken staircase.

  Johnathon Hall, the lawyer whose office I had broken into when first coming to Anna Maria, and son of the man Hope had just shot, stood there, a toothpick in his mouth.

  "I doubt that very seriously," I said, swallowing hard.

  "Don't be so sure," Johnathon said, grinning widely at me. "What if I told you I could fix all of your problems? What if I said I could have the charges brought against your brother dropped?"

  My heart leapt as my chest tightened. "I would say I didn't believe you, that you were lying to me."

  "No lies, Mr. Waters," he answered. "I'm one hundred percent serious. I will make sure your brother walks out of that prison by nightfall and I'll have the charges against you dropped too." He started walking toward me. "All you have to do is kill my father."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  "W HAT?" I ASKED, SURELY I HAD MISHEARD THE MAN. Had he just asked me to do what I thought he had? Did he really want me to kill his father?

  "I think you heard me," Johnathon said. "Don't you think he heard me, Andrew?"

  Johnathon's eyes moved to the left. Following them, I saw a similar looking man spin toward me from the other side of a wall. He wasn't quite as tall as Johnathon and, because of that, he was a little chunkier than his taller counterpart. Still, there was obviously some sort of familial bond.

  "How many people are in here?" I asked, my body tightening and my hand hovered over my gun.

  "Just us," Johnathon said. "You have my word."

  "Forgive me if that doesn't mean a lot coming from a person who was keeping a private folder on me and my brother," I grunted.

  Andrew chuckled. "See, I told you they got into it." He shook his head. "Not that it surprises me too much. That security system of yours is a joke."

  "You'll have to forgive my brother, Mr. Waters," Johnathon said. "He's never met a stranger."

  "He's your brother?" I asked. "He's the district attorney?" I asked, realizing I was surrounded by both of Mayor Hall's sons. What were they going to do with me?

  "Present and accounted for," Andrew said. "And happy to drop all the charges against your brother if you'll just do as mine asks."

  A shock ran through me. I knew he could do as he said. I knew he could free both Micah and me with a stroke of his pen. But why would he? Why would he want his own father dead? It didn't make any sense... until it did.

  "This is a trick," I said. "You're trying to get me to agree to do something illegal so you can lock me up here on the spot."

  "You have open warrants, Mr. Waters," Andrew said. "I don't need another reason to have you locked up on the spot."

  "Listen," Johnathon said, raising his hand. "I understand this might be confusing to you. So, please, let me explain it."

  "Be quick," I answered.

  "Will do," Johnathon said. "I guess you're a busy man."

  He started toward me, and I reached for my gun again.

  "Easy, Quick Draw," he said. "I have answers. My father is not a good man, Mr. Waters. He has done horrible things. He continues to do horrible things. You know this, because, when your friend shot him in the chest, you were there. You saw the woman he was keeping in the wall."

  "You knew about that?" I asked.

  "Unfortunately," he conceded. "My brother and I found out about our father's unsavory activities when we stumbled onto his trophy room in the old house a few months ago." He shrugged. "It had been in legal limbo for years now, ever since your father disappeared while in the process of selling it to mine."

  "What do you know about my father, about my parents?" I asked, my heart in my throat.

  "Only that they were investigating my father's adulterous nature when they found out that he killed our babysitter,” Johnathon said.

  "Emile," Andrew lamented. "I had such a crush on her. I assumed she moved away."

  "She didn't," Johnathon said. "None of them did. It was all right there in black and white, in some sick journal he kept as a testament to his horrible deeds. All of his victims were there."

  My throat closed. "Including—”

  "Your parents?" he asked. "No. I'm afraid I have no idea what actually happened to them. It must have been something else."

  "That doesn't matter," Andrew said. "What matters is what our father did and what it would mean to us. We'd lose everything if it came out; our names and all of our money in civil suits, everything."

  "That's why I sent him the letters," Johnathon said. "I wrote letters telling our father we knew what he did, and signing it as anonymous. We had no idea he'd assume it was you."

  "Your own parents must have found out the truth about what he was doing too," Andrew said. "Maybe he thought they would have told you. Still, I had no idea he'd go so far to discredit you. Sending that lackey of his, framing your brother for her death. It all got so out of hand."

  "Out of hand!" I balked. "Two women are dead!"

  "The other one," Andrew started. "She brought it on herself. She was actually surveying the property. She saw father's secrets. I couldn't let her just tell everyone, not with all we had to lose."

  "You?" I asked. "You killed her?"

  "Unfortunately," he said. "And even more unfortunate that you happened to be there when the police found out about her. It was a series of unfortunate events, but it can all stop now. I thought we could scare our father into stopping before he got caught, but we were wrong. Yours is the best way. Just kill him, just tell me you'll finish it." He pulled a gun from his coat pocket. "Otherwise your brother will never get out of jail and you'll never walk out of here alive."

  "I'm not going to do that." I said. "I'm never going to agree to kill your father. No matter how horrible of a person he is."

  "Well," Andrew said. "Then I guess you'll just rot in prison. You and your brother."

  "Let’s go,” Johnathon said, lifting his gun and walking toward me.

  "Let's not!" I said, ducking behind a large wooden column.

  Shots rang out in almost every direction as shards of the hundred-year-old columns ricocheted all around me. I guess my turning myself in wouldn't be an option after all. I ducked low, quickly turning my arm around the column and firing in the two men's direction. It wasn't that I had come there with the intention to kill anyone, but with bullets flying toward me, shooting back was my natural instinct.

  "Come on, Brandon!" Andrew shouted. "This won't work in Micah's favor."

  "I'm not going with you two,” I said.

  Out of the corner of my eye I spotted what looked like a kitchen door. Poking my head around to get a closer look I quickly pulled back as a bullet zoomed past me, almost clipping my ear. From the look of it, the two brothers weren't fond of the idea of losing.

  "Why don't you just kill him yourself?” I yelled, spinning around from behind the wall and launching a few bullets their way.

  "Because.” Johnathon ducked to dodge the bullets path, shattering a small mirror that lay against the wall. "He's not big into trust. We can't get close enough. But from you he wouldn't see it coming. He thinks you're too weak."

  "I'm not weak!" I yelled, firing off another round and sliding across the floor and behind the fireplace.

  "Well," Andrew said, ducking only about two feet away from me on the other side of the fireplace. "You've been running around Florida like a chicken with your head cut off and you’re no closer to helping your little brother."

  "Shut up!" I yelled, standing and firing again.

  ""The truth hurts." Andrew came from around the corner, gun held high. "But not as bad as lead." I turned to scurry away, but saw that on the other side of me stood Andrew, waiting to catch me. "One last chance to agree with
us. Do what we ask and all your troubles go away."

  I stood between the two men, holding my gun at my side and trying to figure which move would be my best. Agree with them and get myself out of this house? Fight them and lose, two against one or...

  The sound of shattering glass echoed through the old wood-framed house as I turned to see the strangest thing. A large plastic beaver came crashing through the living room floor, the kind you'd see out by the pond at a catfish restaurant. But this wasn't the first time I had seen something like this. My mind echoed back to the storm trooper standing in the middle of the road.

  As fast as I could I dropped my weapon, sticking my two fingers as far down into my ears as possible just in time to hear the bone-chilling screech of one of Hope's sound bomb's fill the air. On either side of me the two brothers dropped to their knees, screaming in pain and pressing their hands to their heads.

  But it was no use, everything Hope said about the LARD's was true. The sound was too powerful, going beyond my body's ability to stand it. I could see my world going dark and my eyes started to blur when I felt someone grab me by the leg and begin pulling me toward the back door.

  Opening my eyes I could see Rachel, screaming into my face. Her own head covered in thick military-style earmuffs. "Brandon!" her lips mouthed. "Hold on."

  I felt the old wooden floor pull at my t-shirt as she dragged me across it and I felt my head knock against the corner of the kitchen counter. But before long I was outside and far enough away that I could finally hear her words.

  "Lets go!" she said. "Hope is uploading the footage now!"

  Her words came to me like a song, and finally, I knew that all of this was over.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  T HE SOUND OF A CHAIN LINK FENCE SLIDING ACROSS THE BLACKTOP WAS SOMETHING I NEVER THOUGHT I'D CARE ABOUT, BUT IN THAT MOMENT, SEEING IT HAPPEN I COULDN'T HOLD BACK THE TEARS. And what's more, I didn't want to.

  "Took you long enough!" Micah smiled, wrapping his arms around me.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "I've been through—”