A Stranger on the Beach

by Michele Campbell

  “It’s all right. Whatever you say, I promise, I can handle it.”

  He nodded. “I feel like I can tell you anything.”

  “You can, Aidan. Don’t worry.”

  He took a deep breath.

  “I served time for manslaughter. But it’s not how it sounds.”

  “Go on.”

  “A long time ago, in high school, I had a girlfriend. Her name was Samantha. I thought she was the one. Turned out, she was sleeping with my best friend.”

  He stopped. How could he ever explain what came next, without sounding like he was lying?

  “There was—”

  He looked away.

  “Please. Tell me,” she said, and took his hand.

  “There was a fight, between me and my friend Matthew. This was ten years ago now. I was seventeen. Matthew had been my best friend since we were kids, until I found out what happened with him and Samantha. I was the one who ought to be mad. But Matthew threw the first punch. She’d got back with me, see. He was upset that she ditched him. The fight started in that cave where I took you. But it didn’t end there. We ended up in the parking lot. He hit his head. It … we … ugh, I don’t want to get into the details. I want you to know that it wasn’t my fault.”

  She lay back down, warm against him, her arms around his neck. Her face was a breath from his as she looked into his eyes.

  “It wasn’t your fault. You did what you needed to do to defend yourself. That’s all I need to know.”

  “Yes. That’s it. That’s it exactly. I defended myself.”

  Caroline accepted him for who he was. She took his darkest secret with an air of calm and peace, like she knew what had happened without him needing to say a word. And she was on his side. Other women would have been scared off. Maybe she should have been. Caroline was like the lady in the castle, and he was the hired hand. You’d think he’d have to do something crazy to win her—an act of bravery, or of strength. Fighting a duel or something. But all he had to do was be honest with her, let her see who he truly was. Now she knew the worst thing about him, and still wanted to be with him.

  “Thank you. I’m really grateful for your understanding,” he said.

  “It’s not only that I understand. I admire that part of you. Because I know that you would defend me the same way you defended yourself,” she said.

  “Always. I’ll protect you. I’ll do anything you need.”

  “You mean it?”

  “Of course. Say the word, and I’ll be there.”

  “Okay. I’m going to trust you, then.”

  “Yes. You can, absolutely.”

  “I told you the terrible way my husband treats me.”

  “I know.”

  “He brought his mistress to my party. I couldn’t stand for that, so I asked him to leave, and then he left me for her.”

  “It’s insane. What a fool he is.”

  “He didn’t just leave me, Aidan. He stole my money. He left me destitute. With nothing.”

  “You told me that. What an asshole.”

  “But even more. I don’t know the extent of it, but I think he may be involved in criminal dealings.”

  “What kind of criminal dealings?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why it’s so scary. I’m afraid of him. Afraid he could end up hurting me or my daughter, maybe without intending to. Because he doesn’t care enough to protect us.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “I need him gone.”

  “Okay. I understand that you’re afraid of him. Do you want me to be there when you tell him it’s over?”

  “No. That wouldn’t be enough, you see.”

  They were sitting up, looking at each other, serious now.

  “What then?” he asked.

  She leaned over and put her hand to his cheek.

  “I need him dead.”

  Aidan jumped out of the bed. His boxers were lying on the floor, and he pulled them on, then his pants. Jesus. She’d just asked him to kill her husband. He’d said he’d do anything, but he never expected her to ask for that. Why did she think he’d do it? Because of his past, that’s why. She thought of him as some outlaw, some lowlife. He was so shaken that he didn’t know what to say.

  Caroline watched him warily. He must look as stricken as he felt.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked, as he buttoned his shirt with trembling fingers. “Where are you going? Don’t leave.”

  “Did I hear you right? You just asked me to kill your husband.”

  “Okay, no. You’re right. That’s crazy.”

  “Is that what you meant?”

  “I want him out of my life so badly. And I have to keep the money. We could be together, Aidan. You and me.”

  He sat on the edge of the bed and took her hands.

  “I want that, too. More than anything. But I can’t do what you asked. I’m not like that. I need you to understand. This one terrible thing that happened years ago—it wrecked me. I can’t go through that again.”

  “Okay, I understand,” she said. “I’ve been so stressed with Jason leaving, I’m talking crazy. I got crazy there for a minute. That’s all. I apologize.”

  He leaned in and kissed her. The sheet was draped across her body, but it couldn’t hide the beautiful curve of her breast, the elegant slant of her neck, the lustrous fall of her hair. She looked up into his eyes. He said he’d do anything, and she took him up on it. She’d placed her faith in him. What she’d asked was too much. But he forgave her. How could he not?

  “Of course I forgive you.”

  “You won’t tell anyone I said that?” she said, laughing nervously.

  “I’m no snitch, and even if I was, I’d never tell on you.”

  “I know.”

  “But I want you to know, I’ll do anything else in my power to protect you. Other than that. I swear it. I’ll have your back, now and forever. You have to believe me.”

  “I do believe you,” she said. And she melted into his arms.

  20

  The parking lot of Red Anchor was surprisingly full for three o’clock on a rainy Thursday afternoon. Just as I cruised in with Aidan in the passenger seat of my very recognizable white Escalade, a group of women spilled out of the restaurant and ran through the raindrops toward their cars. One of them looked directly at me, through my windshield. With a jolt, I recognized her. Julie owned a boutique in town that I frequented. I’d been there with Hannah a couple of weeks before, looking for a dress to wear to the housewarming party. Julie knew me, and worse, she knew my daughter.

  “Get down,” I said to Aidan.

  “What?”

  “Ach, forget it. Too late.”

  I sped past her, around the side of the building, stopping in the alley between the restaurant and the strip mall next door.

  “What are you doing?” Aidan said.

  The rain came down hard, and the wipers swished. I was so unnerved at being spotted by someone I knew that my heart was skittering. I looked in the rearview mirror, trying to see if Julie was still there. But from that angle, in the heavy rain, the parking lot was hidden from view. If I couldn’t see the parking lot, then people in the parking lot couldn’t see me.

  “You should get out now.”

  “Here? It’s pouring. Can you drop me at the front door?”

  “Isn’t that the back entrance right there?” I said, nodding toward a blank-looking door across from a collection of trash bins.

  “I don’t go in that way.”

  “I’m sorry, but there’s a woman I know in the parking lot, and where there’s one, there’re others.”

  “So?”

  “So, people talk. If she sees me dropping you off, she’ll think we spent the night together. She could blab that all over town.”

  “We did spend the night together.”

  “I don’t need everybody knowing that. It could hurt me in the divorce case. Jason is supposed to be the bad guy. Not me.”

  I could
see him getting mad again. His eyes clouded over, and his jaw tensed. His hands clenched into fists, and I started to get nervous.

  “I get it,” he said. “You took a walk on the wild side, and now you’re done. I get tossed aside. I’m expendable.”

  “I don’t understand why you’re taking this so personally,” I said.

  “It was personal. It sure seemed that way when you had your legs wrapped around my neck.”

  “Please don’t talk like that.”

  “Too rough for your dainty ears? Don’t lie to yourself, Caroline. You wanted it. You still want it.”

  “All I mean is, keeping this on the down low for now is not a judgment on you, or my feelings for you. It’s about my own situation. I never lied to you, Aidan. You know I’m married.”

  “You’re not married, not for long anyway. He left you for a Russian hooker. He took your money. You need to wake up and face the facts.”

  I wanted to appease him, but anger flashed through me. Who the hell did this kid think he was, talking to me like that?

  “Whether I’m married or not, and how I handle it, that’s my business. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “Then, what is this?” he said, moving his hand back and forth in the space between us.

  “What is what?”

  “What do we have together? How do you feel about me?”

  “I think we had a nice time.”

  “That’s it?”

  “It was one night.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that. It sounds like you’re blowing me off.”

  “How can I say where this is going at this point? We hardly know each other.”

  “Hardly know each other? What the fuck, Caroline.”

  He slammed his fist against the passenger window so hard that I jumped.

  “Stop that! You’ll break it.”

  My heart was pounding. I had plenty of evidence at this point that my first impression of Aidan had been right, and my alcohol-and lust-fueled second impression had been very, very wrong. Aidan had a probation officer. And a gun. And he was in my car, in an alley where no one could see us, on the edge of becoming violent.

  “You’re going to see him now, aren’t you?” he said.

  “Who?”

  “Your husband.”

  Had he eavesdropped, back at his apartment complex? It seemed impossible, given that I was sitting in the car when I spoke to Hannah about the dinner, and Aidan was inside.

  “I told you, I’m going to visit my daughter,” I said.

  “But he’s gonna be there, isn’t he?”

  I could lie and tell him he was wrong. But Aidan’s behavior was so possessive, and so over-the-top given the nature of our relationship that I felt like I had to talk some sense into him.

  “Aidan, no offense,” I said, trying to sound reasonable, “but if I choose to see my husband, that’s not your business.”

  Without warning, he threw himself forward and slammed his head against the dashboard three times in quick succession. I screamed.

  “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”

  A smear of deep red stood out on the rich beige leather. I looked at Aidan in horror and saw blood trickling from a cut on his temple.

  “You’re bleeding. Oh, my God.”

  “You hurt my feelings, Caroline,” he said, his eyes wet with unshed tears.

  Every woman likes to be desired. But it was completely bizarre that Aidan would be so into me after one night. Something was off with this guy. At the same time, maybe I bore some responsibility. I thought we were having a no-strings fling, but had I made that sufficiently clear to him? Had I led him on? He was a grown man, but he was so much younger than me. I had the impression he’d been with lots of women, but it was possible he hadn’t had many serious relationships. Maybe he wasn’t a player after all. Maybe he was vulnerable. Maybe he had a tender heart, and I’d bruised it.

  Leaning across Aidan, I grabbed a pack of Kleenex from the glove box.

  “C’mere and let me fix that,” I said.

  The skin around the cut was rapidly purpling. I dabbed at the blood with the tissue, and he flinched.

  “I’m sorry, did that hurt?”

  “Yes.”

  He looked at me with blue eyes that swam with tears. I felt a strange flash of that feeling I’d get when Hannah was little and skinned her knee. Pity and protectiveness at once.

  “Restaurants always have first-aid kits,” I said, in a firm, motherly tone. “I want you to go inside and put some disinfectant on this right away. You hear me?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I’m sorry I freaked out.”

  “It’s okay. We’re both tired. It was a crazy night, right?”

  I smiled, and he gave me a sad smile back.

  “That it was, Caroline. That it was.”

  “You need to take care of yourself. So, do like I said, and get that cut cleaned up. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yeah, sure. When will I see you again?”

  “Very soon,” I said. But I was lying, and I suspected he knew that.

  I leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. That seemed to mollify him. He got out and ran through the rain to the restaurant’s back door. As he disappeared inside, I exhaled a long breath, then pulled out of that parking lot so fast that my tires squealed.

  21

  Aidan’s plan when he set out that afternoon was simple reconnaissance. He’d promised Caroline he would protect her, and he intended to keep that promise. The husband was ruthless and abusive. Caroline had told him that much, but he needed to understand the full extent of the threat. How far would the guy go? He’d stolen her money, and that suggested he had no conscience. Would he hurt her physically? Aidan had brought binoculars. He planned to follow the husband, find out where he went, who he met, what he was up to. He had to make sure Caroline was not in any danger. Maybe there was even a way to get some leverage on the guy, to force him to return Caroline’s money. If Aidan could swing that, he’d be her hero. And he wanted that, more than anything.

  Caroline had let slip enough information that Aidan was able to figure out the restaurant where they’d be meeting. It was an Italian place not far from the daughter’s college. He got there early to scope it out. The building was fake limestone with a green awning out front, set back from the street in its own parking lot. The lot was brightly lit on this chill, drizzly evening, and mostly empty—a bad combination. He decided not to wait in the parking lot, where his bright red truck might draw attention. He didn’t need anybody asking questions, didn’t need some Good Samaritan deciding he was a threat and calling his probation officer. He drove around for a while, stopped at a convenience store, bought a Red Bull and a pack of Twizzlers to keep focused. He returned an hour later with his senses on high alert and parked behind a tree at the far end of the lot, away from the lights, hunkering down in the front seat to wait.

  Time passed. He closed his eyes and saw Caroline’s face. He visualized kissing her brow, her perfect cheekbones. He remembered the eggs at breakfast, the view from her bedroom. The rain started up again, tattooing on the windshield. His heart beat steadily. His luck had turned that night Caroline walked into the bar at the Red Anchor. His life was good now, with her in it.

  Everybody was late, and Aidan was getting antsy. Had they changed the location since he found out about this dinner? There was nothing to do but wait some more. He ran the wipers briefly so he could see out the windshield.

  The daughter showed up first, emerging from the backseat of a silver Toyota that sported an Uber decal in its front window. He recognized her from the photos on Caroline’s phone. He felt bad about snooping, but he’d done it almost by accident. He’d seen Caroline type her code into the phone that night in the bar, and it stuck in his head because she used all sevens. Seven was his lucky number, too. He almost said something, how they were alike, but then he didn’t. Good thing, because later, when he was in he
r bed, and she was fast asleep, he’d picked the phone up to look at her screensaver, which was a picture of the beach in front of her house. He’d recognize that strip of sand anywhere, and he was mesmerized, looking at it. Once the phone was in his hand, he’d typed in her code almost without thinking. Just to see what he saw. Once he started scrolling, it was hard to stop, even though he knew that he was doing something wrong. The impulse to learn about her was too powerful.

  He wouldn’t recognize the daughter now if he hadn’t done that. Hannah Elizabeth Stark, age eighteen. She’d be nineteen in November. It was a bit awkward how close they were in age, closer than he was to Caroline. He’d be more like a big brother to Hannah than a stepfather, but they’d make it work. She was average height, average weight, long dark hair, nice face. Not beautiful like her mother, but pleasant-looking. She wore jeans and ankle boots and a sweater. Hannah went inside the restaurant.

  Fifteen minutes later, the husband’s car pulled into the lot. A real dick move, letting his daughter show up first, making her wait that long for him. This guy didn’t have a clue about how to treat women. The car was dickish, too, a Mercedes E-Class with New York plates, navy blue and sleek. It was the type of car you might expect a chauffeur to drive, the kind you saw idling outside fancy office buildings in the city every night, waiting for the masters to emerge and get driven to their expense-account dinners. Caroline’s husband was driving himself tonight, though. Jason Stark pulled into a spot right in front of the restaurant and got out. Aidan raised the binoculars and checked the guy out. Stark walked like someone used to getting his way in this world. A confident strut, his broad shoulders in a well-cut blazer tapering to tailored slacks, a hundred-dollar haircut. He didn’t even hurry out of the rain. Why should he? Raindrops couldn’t touch a guy like that. Aidan hated the dude on sight.

  Jason went inside. Five minutes later, he came out again, his phone to his ear. Just then, Caroline’s Escalade pulled into the lot. Aidan had been in that car a couple of hours earlier. He sniffed his shirt, trying to recapture the scent of her perfume and feel how it felt when she’d touched him. But it was already a fading memory.