Dune Drive

by Mariah Stewart

  She stood and pulled her dress over her thighs so it wouldn’t get wet.

  “I’m not going to make you walk in it. Come closer.”

  With one hand, he lifted her from the boat and held her securely. His other hand held the rope that had tethered the boat to the dive platform. When he reached the beach, he set her down on the sand and walked to the jetty, where he wrapped the rope around a rock several times.

  “That should hold it for a few minutes.” He took her hand as they crossed the road and walked over the dune. The moon was so full and bright overhead, the path was clear, and within minutes they’d reached the store.

  “Gigi must be asleep by now,” Chrissie said. She climbed the front steps and tried the door.

  “Ah, good, she left the door unlocked.” She opened the door and whispered, “Kiss me good night here. She’s a really light sleeper and I don’t want to wake her.”

  “I thought her bedroom was in the back.”

  “It is, but I swear, that woman’s hearing has not diminished with age. She can hear a pin drop on the second floor.”

  “Well, then, we’ll let her sleep, and we’ll say good night.” He kissed her, and she let herself be molded into his body for just a moment.

  “Enough,” she whispered. “Or I won’t be able to let you go.”

  “I’ll be over in the morning. What time is your mother coming by?”

  “I told her between nine and ten.”

  “I’ll be here earlier. Have the coffee ready.” He kissed the tip of her nose, and as an afterthought, asked, “Got scones?”

  “I’ll make them in the morning. Go.”

  She pushed him out the door, then stood in the doorway and watched until he was nothing more than a shadow in the moonlight, which disappeared on the down side of the dune.

  She closed the door behind her and locked it. Swinging her shoes in one hand, she padded softly across the old pine floor. She was almost to the stairwell when she realized she was not alone.

  She stopped, tilted her head, and tried to place the sound she’d just heard.

  There. Again. Too late she recognized the scrape of the chair against the wooden floor. She turned toward the table and said, “Gigi?”

  “Nope. Try again, Chrissie.” The familiar voice that had been haunting her for months whispered through the darkness.

  The scrape was louder as he pushed the chair away.

  “Aren’t you going to say hello? Greet me like you just sent that guy on his way?” He walked toward her, and she was frozen where she stood, too stunned to move. “Big dude.”

  In a flash he was there, one hand on the back of her neck, the other around her wrist, and he was kissing her.

  “Stop.” She tried pushing him away with her one free hand, but he was too strong. “Don’t. Don’t . . .”

  “Was he as good as me, Chrissie?” His breath was on her face and she wanted to gag.

  Old Chrissie would have said, “No, Doug. No one’s as good as you.”

  New Chrissie said, “No. He was better.” And because she couldn’t resist, even knowing what it would cost her, she added, “A thousand times better.”

  The slap was not totally unexpected. It had merely been a question of when, not if, he would strike her.

  “You think you’re so clever. Did you really believe I’d let you go? Did you really think I couldn’t find you?”

  “How did you find me?”

  He laughed. “I read People magazine.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He twisted her arm and watched her face. She refused to give him the satisfaction of letting him know how much pain he was causing.

  “That was a real nice lunch you made for those movie stars. Bet you thought you were hot stuff, having your picture taken with Dallas MacGregor. Nice of the person who took the shot to make sure they named that little restaurant.” He gave her arm another little twist. “After we’re through here, we’re going to take a ride, and you’re going to watch me burn that place to the ground.”

  Chrissie’s veins turned to ice. Sophie, Jason . . . their baby . . .

  “Doug, no. Please. There’s no reason to do that.” She fought back the panic that was threatening to overtake her.

  “Of course there’s a reason,” he whispered, and pulled her closer. “You need to be punished. And that’s just the start.”

  “Where’s Ruby?” She looked anxiously toward the apartment door.

  “The old lady?” He grabbed her ponytail and pulled it back so she had to look him in the face. “She’s sleeping peacefully.”

  “If you touched her . . .”

  He laughed. “You’ll do what? You’ll hurt me?”

  “Doug, tell me you didn’t hurt her.” God, if he hurt her . . .

  “The old lady’s fine. And she’ll stay that way as long as you do what I want.”

  “What do you want, Doug? Just tell me, and I’ll do it.” She’d do anything—promise him anything—if he’d leave Ruby alone.

  “You know what I want. I want what he had.” He slid one strap of her dress over her shoulder.

  “Don’t do this, Doug.” Her mind raced. She had to find out if Ruby was all right. She could deal with anything else he might do to her, as long as Ruby hadn’t been harmed.

  “If you’re thinking you’re going to scream and the old lady will come running—that ain’t gonna happen.” His mouth was at her ear again. “I locked her in. Even if she hears you, she can’t get to you.”

  He pulled down the other strap of her dress and began kissing her neck. She closed her eyes and tried not to scream. He pushed her up against the wall and started to pull up the hem of her dress. “You be nice, and I promise I won’t touch the old lady. If you struggle . . .”

  “I’ll be nice.” She knew what being nice meant to Doug, but if that was what it took to keep Ruby safe, then so be it. She gritted her teeth and willed herself not to cry. And there was still Blossoms. There was no way she could let him do what he’d planned.

  There was a clicking sound from across the room and he froze, his lips still against her skin, his hand still on her thigh.

  “Son, I think you best be walking away right about now.” Ruby’s voice was clear and strong. “While you still can.”

  Without letting go of Chrissie, Doug turned and looked over his shoulder. The light from the moon spilled in through the big window next to the table, and Chrissie knew he saw what she did.

  Ruby stood in her bathrobe, her feet bare, holding what looked like a rifle up to her shoulder.

  “Been a while since I shot a man, but I still remember how,” she said.

  “Who are you kidding, old woman?” Doug turned around slowly and laughed. “You’re not going to shoot me. I doubt that thing’s even loaded. You even know what to do with one of those things? Put it down now.”

  She braced herself against the wall and pulled the trigger. The shot hit two feet in front of him.

  “I guess it be loaded, and I guess I know what to do with it.”

  Doug started walking toward Ruby.

  “You calling my bluff, boy?” she said softly.

  Before he could answer, Chrissie picked up the nearest chair and struck him over the head as hard as she could. He went down in a heap on the floor.

  “I called Beck,” Ruby said calmly. “He be along anytime now.”

  She walked closer, the rifle still pointed at Doug. Chrissie burst into tears.

  “Where did you get that?” She pointed to the rifle. “How did you know . . . ?”

  “Now, you come here, girl.” Ruby reached one hand to her. “Nothing to cry about. No one hurt but him, and that’s all right.” She looked down at the man on the floor, who was just beginning to come around.

  Flashing lights lit up the night outside the store, and a car door slammed, followed by footfalls on the porch.

  He started to get up, and Ruby said, “Police just pulled in, boy. You stay put or I be putting a sl
ug in you.”

  The door opened and Chrissie heard heavy boots crossing the floor.

  “Where the hell’s the light switch?” Beck asked as he came in, his gun drawn.

  “Chrissie, you go put on those lights so he doesn’t shoot you or me.” She pointed the tip of the gun at Doug’s head. “Him I don’t be caring about.”

  Chrissie ran across the floor and turned on the overhead lights. For a moment she was blinded, but she could see Beck moving toward Ruby, his gun drawn.

  “Miz Carter, you can put that down now.” Beck holstered his gun and flipped Doug onto his stomach, none too gently, Chrissie noted. He snapped handcuffs around Doug’s wrists but let him lie facedown on the floor. “Actually, I’d appreciate it—a lot—if you did.”

  Another car with flashing lights pulled in out front.

  “That would be Duncan Alcott.” Beck stood. When the newcomer came into the room, Beck said, “Officer Alcott, please remove this piece of”—he glanced at Ruby—“the prisoner. Read him his rights and get him out of here. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Sir, you’ve got this all wrong. I know what this looks like, but . . .” Doug began to babble.

  “It looks like exactly what it is. Home invasion, assault, attempted rape. I’m sure there’s more.” Beck brushed him off. To Chrissie, he said, “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, but then started to quietly cry. “I can’t believe he found me. He could have hurt Ruby.” She felt the tears roll down her face. “He said he was going to burn down Blossoms.”

  “But he didn’t now, did he?” Ruby handed the rifle to Beck and wrapped Chrissie in her embrace. “Didn’t I tell you we be strong and we be smart, that we be fine?”

  “You did. You knew.” Chrissie stared at the remarkable woman who’d just turned 101 years old.

  “I be feeling it coming for a time. I be ready.” She pointed to the rifle in Beck’s hand. “That belonged to my Harold. He loved that thing. Remington, it be. He taught me how to load it, shoot it.” She smiled with no small amount of pride. “Had to lean me against the wall, though, lest the kick put me on my kiester. Might have shot clear through the roof.”

  “Could you have shot him, Gigi?”

  “Didn’t bring that thing out here for show. My Harold always said you don’t load it if you’re not about shooting it.” She looked Beck in the eye and told him, “I’d’a blown a hole right through him if he’d harmed my girl.”

  “Can’t say I blame you, Miz Carter.” Beck patted her on the back.

  “You thinking about arresting me, Gabriel Beck?”

  “For what? Shooting a hole in your own floor?” He shook his head. “I would put this in a safe place, though.” He left the rifle on the table.

  “Keep it where I always kept it,” she told him. “Under my bed.”

  “You sleep with a loaded rifle under your bed?” he asked.

  “Doesn’t everyone?”

  He laughed and headed out just as Jared came in, soaking wet.

  “What the hell’s going on? Chrissie . . . ?” He rushed across the room.

  “The short version? Doug was waiting for me here, in the store, in the dark, when you brought me back. Ruby shot at him with Harold’s rifle, and I hit him over the head with a chair.” She looked at Ruby. “Oh, Gigi, I broke your chair.”

  “No matter. There be another one just like it in the storage room. You can go on in and get it for me. I think I’m going to need a cup of tea and a place to set while I drink it.” She shuffled off toward her kitchen.

  “Gigi, how did you get out of the apartment?” Chrissie called after her. “Doug said he locked you in.”

  “Don’t know how he could’a done that. Only key be in a drawer in my kitchen.” She paused and turned around. “Must’a used that old key I keep hanging on the wall here.”

  Ruby ran her hand along the wall. “Yep, that’s what he must’a done.” She chuckled. “That old key only worked one door, and it not be this one. My Harold hanged it there when we moved down here from the point.” She paused and looked back at Chrissie and Jared. “That be the key for his granddaddy’s house. Burned down about seventy years ago. ’Course, it hardly matters which key he had. That lock be broke inside for maybe ten, fifteen years. He could turn that key all he wanted, lock still be broken and the door still be opening.”

  She continued on into her living quarters to make her tea. “Don’t you be forgetting that chair, Christiana.”

  Chrissie buried her head in Jared’s shoulder and he wrapped her in his arms. “Are you crying or laughing?” he asked.

  “Both. My ex shows up—he’s probably going to rape me before he kills me, and probably kill Ruby as well. Oh, and he’s going to burn down Blossoms before the night is over. My great-grandmother shows up in the dark with a shotgun . . .”

  “Rifle,” Jared corrected her.

  “Whatever. He’s taunting her and she shoots the damned thing.” She pointed to the hole in the floor. “She shot right there. Just to show him she could, and she would have shot him. I feel terrible that she was put in harm’s way.” Chrissie took a deep breath. “Looks like Ruby can take care of herself.”

  She let him hold her, even though he was soaking wet. “Why are you wet?”

  “When I heard the gunshot, I dove in and swam. I figured it would be faster than untying the boat and rowing. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I’m sorry I left you here. I should have stayed.”

  “There’s no way you could have known he was here. With all the traffic on the island today because of the party, no one would have noticed an out-of-state car. He must have parked down near the point and left the car there, walked up.”

  “I’m so grateful to Ruby, but damn. I wanted to be your hero.”

  “You are my hero.” She nuzzled the side of his face. “Just not tonight.”

  “I don’t see a chair there in my place.” Ruby shuffled into the room.

  “I’m on my way, Gigi.”

  • • •

  WHEN CHRISSIE AND Jared made their way downstairs in the morning, they found Ruby, Dorothy, and Louis drinking coffee at Ruby’s table in the store. Dorothy looked up when she heard them.

  “Ruby told me everything.” Dorothy’s hand flew over her heart and her jaw dropped. “Oh my God, he could have killed you! Both of you!”

  “I think that was his endgame. He probably would have succeeded if Ruby hadn’t come in when she did,” Chrissie told her.

  Dorothy’s mouth still hung open. Finally, she said, “Thank God for you, Ruby. Thank God you kept that old rifle of Harold’s.” She paused. “I remember that rifle. He had that thing forever. It must be, oh, close to eighty years old.”

  Ruby nodded. “His daddy gave it to him when he was twelve. He was always proud of that rifle.”

  “Where is it now?” Dorothy asked.

  “Back where it belongs,” Ruby told her. “Under my bed.”

  Chrissie had to turn her back on Louis, whose eyes were big and round as dinner plates. He hadn’t said a word. She guessed if you didn’t know Ruby, it might be a little tough to take.

  “Why don’t you let me make breakfast for everyone?” Jared poured himself a cup of coffee from the old pot on the counter near the cash register, which Ruby preferred to the new Keurig. To Chrissie he said, “You should spend some time with your mother.”

  “Do you know how to make scrambled eggs?” Chrissie asked. “Cook bacon? Make toast?”

  “I’m going to forget you even asked. Go.” He pointed to the door. “Do I know how to scramble eggs,” he pretended to grumble.

  “There are some scones in the refrigerator that need to be warmed up. Would you put them in the oven, set the timer for ten minutes, then take them out? You know Ruby is dying for one.” She smiled. “So am I.”

  “Sure.” He rubbed her back for a second, then told her, “You finally have some time together. Use it.”

  “Good point. Thank you.” She turned to the table. �
��Well, Mom. Looks like we’ll have some time to catch up after all.”

  “Okay. Sure.” Dorothy nodded.

  “Girl time,” Jared told Louis. “You can come on into the kitchen and watch me scramble some eggs.”

  “I think I be coming along too. Someone’s got to be keeping an eye on those scones.” Ruby rose and followed Louis and Jared into the kitchen.

  Chrissie sat in her usual seat, sipping her coffee and wondering where to begin.

  “Dear God, Chrissie, I can’t believe what went on here this morning. Who’d have thought that Ruby—where she got the strength . . .” Dorothy blew out a long breath. “I just can’t get over that man wanting to hurt you.”

  “I’m having a hard time believing it myself, but it’s over and done with and Doug’s sitting in the jail in St. Dennis, waiting for someone to come bail him out, I suppose. I’d be surprised if anyone showed up.” She smiled. “As for Ruby, she’s the strongest woman I ever met. I want to be just like her. She was like an avenging angel, Mom. She was just not going to let that man hurt me again.”

  “I’m still having trouble understanding how this happened, Chrissie. Why you didn’t leave him sooner.”

  “It’s hard to explain, Mom. And it’s more involved than I want to go into right now. Someday. For now, I’ll just say it was a situation I got myself into, and eventually I was lucky. I got myself out. It wasn’t easy. It never is with a man like him.”

  Chrissie took her mother’s hands. “Now you know my secret, but there’s still the elephant in the room. Why did Dad leave? Why did he take Luke? Why didn’t they ever come back?”

  “I know I should have told you a long time ago, but it’s not a nice story, honey. I’m embarrassed to even think about it, but you should know.” Dorothy tapped her fingers on the side of her mug. “Your father left when he found out . . .” She swallowed hard. “When he found out that he isn’t your father.”

  For a very long moment, Chrissie couldn’t react. It was as if the words were spoken in a foreign language she’d never learned.

  “Dad . . .”

  “Wasn’t your father. I’m sorry, Chrissie, but that’s the fact. When he found out, he took Luke—who was his—and he left. Didn’t tell me where he was going, but I knew he’d never come back. That’s why he never came to see you, never sent a dime in child support.” Dorothy couldn’t seem to look up to meet Chrissie’s eyes. She stared into her coffee, her voice a monotone. “I wish I’d been able to tell you, so you’d have understood. But that’s not something you tell a child.”