As the Tide Comes In

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As the Tide Comes In Page 13

by Cindy Woodsmall

Luella waited for him to elaborate, but he said nothing else. They finished their breakfasts in silence. Should she prompt him to say anything more?

  The waiter dropped off the bill as he walked by. Luella reached for the black check holder. “I’ll pay for it. I’m the one monopolizing the conversation.”

  “No, no. I invited you.” Charles scooped it up before Luella could grab it, stuck a credit card in the slot, and handed it back to the waiter when he passed by on the opposite side of the table.

  Luella had been on enough dates to know when one was dead in the water. They’d started out clicking so well. What had happened?

  He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Some of this is my fault, but I wish you hadn’t shared with me the financial aspect of Julep’s dilemma. I can’t give you that vacancy you want.”

  “What?” A few diners nearby looked up from their meals. She flashed them a mind-your-own-business look. “Why?”

  He rubbed his temples. “You just told me about the debt involved, and the only purpose of getting a larger store with more overhead is so she can purchase more goods from the wholesalers, which will be even more debt. If your business goes into bankruptcy, we’re tied up in the court system, unable to make you move out right away and unable to collect rent owed—or most of it anyway. As it stands, we have several other surefire applicants.”

  What had she done?

  The server returned to the table and handed him the finished check. Charles nodded at him and filled out the tip and signed the receipt. “Part of the mistake was mine. I didn’t mean to ask questions that would cause you to share the store’s debt, and I shouldn’t have invited you, knowing you were part of the group attached to this bid.”

  They picked up their belongings and left the restaurant.

  How could she have messed up this situation even more? What was she going to say to the girls? “Charles, please just tell me you’ll give our proposal a fair look. Don’t take what I said over a friendly breakfast as a reason not to do so.”

  He nodded. “I intend to. But you’ve raised some red flags.”

  Yep. Like she stuck her foot in her mouth again. The way she did every time she got near Chuck.

  14

  A welcome breeze came through the open windows of the back bedroom as Gavin gently pried a walnut board away from the stud, using a hammer and small crowbar. Once he’d created a small space between the shiplap and stud, he slid the crowbar into his tool belt and grabbed the thin, but sturdy, pry bar. He eased it between the two pieces of wood and tapped the hammer against it. Splitting the shiplap would ruin it, and he needed every square inch to meet his quota.

  He tried to stay focused and keep his hands steady, but he longed to nap for a bit. The king-size mattress upstairs was a moldy mess from the storm that took off the roof last spring, but the twin-size mattress on the floor in the living room called to him. That’s where he’d slept of late, but it would probably be midnight before he gave in to the desire. His two twenty-four-hour shifts had allowed for little sleep this week. It seemed as though every time the EMTs and firemen returned to the station to sleep, another call came in, which was fairly typical during tourist season. What wasn’t usual was his working every free second on dismantling a house. When the work wasn’t so painstaking, he’d ask his buddies to help him.

  “Knock, knock.” His mom’s voice echoed through the empty house.

  “In the back bedroom.”

  His mom stopped in the doorway. “Hey.” She had a lunch tote in hand, hopefully with lots of food for him.

  “Hi.” He angled the pry bar slightly and tapped it more. Once he created enough space between the stud and shiplap, he’d slide a pair of metal shears between them and cut the nail. He’d discovered that was the best way to free the shiplap from the stud without splitting it. “Did you find what you were looking for last night?”

  “Was I looking for something?” His mom’s brows furrowed.

  “I think so. When you came by to drop off dinner—which was quite tasty, so thank you—you or one of the girls went into Sapphira’s painting room.”

  Before Sapphira passed, she’d been very clear that the painting room was to be left untouched for as long as possible, giving Siobhan to the last minute to come home and claim everything inside that room. Of course Saffy had no idea they would dismantle her beautiful home and sell it off bit by bit. She had, however, expected them to move into it or sell it. But removing the home was the only way they could divide the property in half and sell each part to a builder.

  “None of us girls went in there, Gavin. We were inside this house for less than sixty seconds before driving to Brunswick to shop for a new lantern for tomorrow night’s annual celebration on the marsh.”

  Gavin withheld a sigh. His mamas and their annual reciting of the poem in period clothing seemed really out there to him, but he held his tongue.

  “That aside”—his mom fluttered her hands—“it reminds me of why I’m here. You need to watch your reclaimed goods closer. Get them off the driveway.”

  “A man is coming in about three hours, and we’ll load all the shiplap onto his truck, so no need to worry about that.”

  “Good, because there was a thief hiding out in our garden last night. We scared her off.”

  “Oh, good gravy, Mom. No one likes vegetables enough to hide out in a hot garden and steal them. You sure it wasn’t a bunny?” He put the pry bar and hammer in his tool belt and slid the metal shears in place.

  “Yeah, yeah. I know. You think I’m full of nonsense all the time. But I know what I saw, and after you chased a vanishing woman down the beach last week, I’d hoped you’d have a bit more respect for what people see. There is no proof you saw anyone, but you did.”

  “True.” He squeezed the shears, trying to put enough pressure to cut the nail without adding stress to the antique walnut plank. “But your creature was a little bitty scared rabbit who happened to startle you.” He grimaced, hoping all pressure was being applied to the right spot.

  She pulled a piece of material out of her purse. “You think a bunny was wearing this?”

  Gavin’s heart lurched, and he clenched the nail cutters. The nail popped. He studied the plank, and thankfully his sudden movement hadn’t caused it to split.

  It looked like the scarf the woman was wearing yesterday, the one who’d grabbed his attention and then disappeared. What was it about her that intrigued him? He was a nose-to-the-grindstone kind of guy, and any female close to his age was nothing but trouble. He’d learned that by the ripe age of twelve. He’d been overweight, and the girls at school and church had made him a target, taking out their angst and insecurity on him.

  “Mom, there were three wrinkled and damp dollar bills on the counter last night.”

  “Were they my tip?”

  He studied her. Like an unsuspecting wave crashing in, he suddenly realized what was going on. The woman who’d disappeared on the beach. A woman with a similar build beside his truck yesterday. The opened door to Sapphira’s room. The scarf. The missing food. The three dollars. The wet pavement and footprints near the outdoor shower.

  He closed the gap between them. “So you’re in cahoots with the firemen on this one, huh?” He took the scarf from her and shoved it into his shorts pocket. “I’ll keep this. Someone will want it, and I’m not giving it back without a payoff of some type. But I’m proud of you, Mom.”

  She seemed confused. “I’m in cahoots with no one…except the girls in trying to get a better shop and you concerning Sapphira’s house so the debtors don’t take our home. Okay, fine, I’m in cahoots plenty, but not with the firemen. You think the guys put that woman up to hiding in our garden?”

  “It’s sounding that way.”

  She set the lunch tote on the floor. “Two of your favorite sandwiches.”

  “Thanks.”


  “We set a trap in the garden, and it’s attached to an air horn, so if you hear it go off, call the police.”

  “So they can arrest a terrified bunny? Or maybe it’ll be the woman the firemen hired to pull a prank.”

  “Gavin, I’m serious. It was a real woman, not a rabbit, and even if your pals hired her, which I seriously doubt, she had no right to steal our food. That garden is our contribution to the needy—from selling the food and donating the money, to giving fresh produce, to canning it—and we work hard for the yield.”

  “Ah, now I get it. You’re going gangbusters to keep anyone from taking produce because you intend to win the annual competition of whose garden has the largest harvest for the needy.”

  She huffed. “Maybe.” She angled her head. “We did the gardening work, and we get to use its produce however we choose, not some thieving misfit who is hungry because she smoked too much pot.”

  Whatever else he thought of his mom’s little speech, he was convinced she wasn’t in on the prank his firehouse buddies were pulling. “Fine. If I hear an air horn, I’ll rush over there and set the intruder straight.” He chuckled. “So where are you off to all gussied up in gardening clothes?”

  She appeared to be freshly showered, hair done, and makeup on, but she had on her clean but stained and slightly worn work clothes.

  “The Keenagers are collecting produce, washing it, and divvying it up into pecks to sell at the farmer’s market early tomorrow morning. All proceeds go to the needy.”

  “I thought the whole idea of the Keenager group was to have fun—keen old-timers reliving their youth.”

  “It’s not the whole idea, no. Even the church teens work to give back to the community.”

  “As long as it’s not to a hungry thief, right?”

  His mom rolled her eyes. “What if she’s out to destroy our garden just because she can? But we’ve fixed that. Thieves take because they can, but she’ll be in for a huge surprise if she comes back.”

  Gavin paused. “What did you—”

  “Julep?” Dell rushed inside. “There you are.” She grabbed her hand. “We’re late.” She waved at Gavin. “Hey, handsome. I’d love to chat, but bye.” She threw him a kiss without so much as a pause.

  Gavin set his tools aside and ate a few bites of a sandwich before returning to his work. Dusk fell, and his muscles ached, but there wasn’t time to take a break. He’d promised Roy Ashe ten thousand square feet of shiplap by nightfall, and it would take every minute to make that happen.

  Dusk eased into the room, stealing his light. He attached three clamp work lights to various studs and angled them at the wall he was dismantling.

  A blasting horn pierced the air, and someone screamed.

  Seriously?

  “Not funny, guys,” he mumbled. “I’ve got too much work to do.” While slipping the hammer and pry bar into his tool belt, he went through the house. Soon he was crossing the backyard. The air horn finally shut off. He pulled out his tactical flashlight and swept its beam across the thick foliage of the garden. He saw what appeared to be white skin or maybe clothing. “Get caught, did ya?” He grabbed his phone from his pocket and dialed Lieutenant Jimmy.

  “Hey, Gavin.” The man sounded pleased to hear from him. “What’s up?”

  “I don’t have time for this.” He plowed through the rows of corn.

  “Okay.” Jimmy laughed. “You need a hand with something?”

  Gavin stepped out of the cornfield and paused the light on a woman in the middle of the sugar peas, fighting to get free of barbwire. “My mamas, the four of them, set a trap for your hired help. I imagine, since they used barbwire, that she may need medical assistance. I like a prank as well as the next person, but this needs to stop.”

  The woman tried to back away from him, and she yelped in pain. Gavin shined the light in her face, and that one glimpse changed his tone. She had terror on her face, and if she was acting, she needed to be in Hollywood, not on this island.

  “So is she real this time, man?” Jimmy asked.

  Gavin realized he still had the phone to his ear. “I’ll need to call you later.” He ended the call and put the cell in his pocket. He shoved the flashlight vertically in his tool belt so it gave light without being intrusive. “It’s okay, ma’am. I’m here to help.”

  She shook her head and tried to move away from him. “They called the police. The woman holding the gun said they would.”

  A gun? Did the Glynn Girls pull a gun on this woman? Well, whatever was going on, she definitely wasn’t a rabbit, and he was beginning to think she wasn’t hired to pull a prank either. He saw a shiny liquid running down the woman’s arm, and he’d seen that same thing under the light of the moon too many times not to recognize it. She was bleeding.

  “My name is Gavin, and I’m an EMT. I want to help you, okay?”

  “You chased me down the beach…in a uniform.”

  “Ah, that was you. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was in my fireman’s uniform.” There was no way he could get close to her with metal cutters until she trusted him. “I told you my name. It’s Gavin. What’s your name?”

  Her breathing was short and shallow, and he wanted to free her before she passed out. If she went limp right now, she’d be punctured with a dozen barbs. What were his mom and the girls thinking to do this?

  “Mary.”

  Okay, so maybe this was part of an acting skit. Was that real blood and real barbs or not? He ran a finger across a nearby piece of wire. Yep, it was real. But he’d bet money that wasn’t her name. It would be too big a coincidence, even for such a common name.

  “Okay. I’m going to step closer, and I want you to remain in place. Can you do that?”

  She gave a slight nod.

  “Look.” He held up the metal cutters. “Five to seven snips with this, and you’ll be free. Okay?”

  Again she nodded.

  “Good. Very good.” He moved in closer, half expecting floodlights to come on and his buddies to start applauding and laughing, calling him gullible. But on the chance she could be for real, he continued onward. “Are you hungry? Is that why you’re here?”

  “I lost my phone, cash, and credit cards at the beach yesterday when the tide came in.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it. The tides catch a lot of people off guard.” He removed the flashlight from his belt and lowered the beam. “I just need to look in your eyes and check your pulse before we cut you free from the barbwire. Okay?”

  “Why?”

  “I need to know if I should call for an ambulance.”

  “No!” She jerked one way and then another, trying to get free. “I’m not crazy. I…I’m waiting for my brothers.”

  Why would she use the word crazy? Had the word been used against her, or was her thinking so addled she felt that way?

  “That’s good about your brothers. Very good.” He kept his voice on soothe mode. “I’ll help you find them, but they would want you to get medical help if need be.”

  “I don’t need it.”

  “Then let’s prove that together. Okay?”

  She scowled at him. “Fine.”

  “Good decision. You’re doing well. Just take a few deep breaths.” Usually he’d call people by name when he was helping them through an ordeal. It was soothing and reassuring to them, but he didn’t believe Mary was her name. He stepped close enough to touch her. “I’m going to use the flashlight and look in your eyes.” He did as he’d said and realized her pupils were large, as if she was on a narcotic, and one pupil was more dilated than the other, which often meant a concussion. But each pupil responded to the light. He caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a suture. He turned the light to it. “You’ve recently been hurt, haven’t you?”

  She nodded. “Surgery.”

  Her hair had been shaved an inch wide
, and the cut and sutures were clearly done by a surgeon. “Yes, I can see that. What medication are you taking?”

  “Vico…something.”

  “Vicodin. It’s powerful.” It could disorient and confuse her as well as make her overwhelmingly sleepy, dizzy, and have poor judgment. “Is it helping with the pain?”

  She nodded. “You don’t need to call for help.”

  He was sure she needed to be seen, but it wasn’t an emergency situation. “I agree.”

  She relaxed at his words, and her knees almost buckled.

  He cupped his hand under her elbow and steadied her. Whatever else was going on, she was terrified of an authority uncovering her secrets. “It’s just us.” He flashed the light at her feet. “You balanced.”

  “Yeah.”

  He studied her. She was about his age and absolutely beautiful.

  Her eyes were brimming with tears. “Where are the mountains?”

  An ache for her made his heart shiver. “The mountains are at home, I imagine. And my guess is someone is missing you. But we’ll figure all of that out. I promise.” He passed her the flashlight. “I’m going to get my metal cutters out of my tool belt. Are we good?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You hold the light on the spots while I cut, okay?”

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  A surreal feeling seemed to float from the far reaches of the planet and settle around him, as though for a moment he’d connected with the real woman hiding underneath the odd behavior and confusion.

  “Not a problem.” He snipped here and there, cutting out sections of barbwire and tossing them to the side. How did the Glynn Girls intend to get back into the garden with this much barbwire everywhere? And how much damage had they done to their plants in the process? “Do you remember how you got to St. Simons Island?”

  “By plane.”

  “Do you know when you arrived?”

  “Last week, maybe Tuesday.”

  “And today is Tuesday again, so seven days ago.”

  “Yeah, my phone said about that before it drowned.”

 

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