No Place Too Far

by Kay Bratt

  “Shut up, Lani,” Kira said.

  “You can’t tell me to shut up!” Lani’s face reddened.

  “Both of you, stop it,” Jules said, as though talking to bickering young sisters instead of the adult women before her.

  Noah sighed, his anger gone and his eyes sad. “Okay, so you don’t like working in the family business anymore?” he asked Michael. “Is that what you are trying to tell us?”

  Michael’s expression was hard to read, but Quinn thought he looked like he was planning for an argument, getting his thoughts lined up before he spoke.

  “Of course I like it,” he finally answered, his tone softening. “I worked behind four walls most of my life, and then you showed me a way to leave that behind and work on the water, in the sunlight and beauty of the ocean’s shadow. And I appreciate everything you’ve taught me, Noah. You have to believe that. But I want to be my own man.”

  “You’re a captain of a successful venture. You aren’t paid hourly or by charter. Instead you get a split of the profits. How is that not being your own man, Michael?” Noah asked, his voice gentle. “Can you explain this to me? To us?”

  “Damn it, Noah. Can’t you understand? I want to go further. Make more money. Why don’t you get your own son to take my place? It’s about time he started pitching in anyway.”

  “Michael,” Kira said, putting her hand on his thigh and scolding him with the tone of her voice.

  Jonah was silent, but Quinn could see the rage well up in his face. His struggles were known in the family, but yet too personal to speak aloud. Quinn didn’t even know her father that well yet, but she could tell those words hurt him. Of course, he probably had always wanted his own son on the water with him.

  “This isn’t going well. Let’s try it from another angle. Kira, why don’t you tell us what it is you and Michael want to do?” Jules said, her voice soft and inviting, a balm to the hurt and resentment floating around the room.

  “There’s a man who wants to sell his luxury private yacht charter business. It’s a newer boat, looks amazing, and he gets a thousand dollars for two hours and two thousand for four. He already has repeat clientele and can prove he’s made a profit for five years plus. You both know how hard it is to get recreation permits on Maui. This way we just take over a lucrative business without fighting the city to start from scratch,” Kira said.

  “Sounds suspicious to me. Might be a scam,” Lani said.

  “It’s not a scam,” Kira shot back at her sister. “The boat owner is ill and needs to retire. He’s spent a long time building his clientele.”

  “Oh, I get it. You want to cater to the snob society that flies in and out,” Lani said. “The snowbirds and celebrities. The common people aren’t good enough now.”

  “No, Lani,” Michael returned just as heatedly. “We want to build a legacy for our boys. Our own legacy. Not one they have to split across fifteen cousins.”

  “Anyway, the celebrities have their own boats, idiot,” Kira said, glaring at Lani.

  “Wait—what do you mean, fifteen cousins?” Jules asked. “You two are the only ones with children so far.”

  “You know what I mean, Jules. You’ve got another daughter in the picture. Who’s to say she doesn’t get married and start popping out kids?” Michael said. “And Lani over there is just burning to find a husband. This family is getting bigger by the minute, and that means my family will get smaller pieces of the pie as the years go on.”

  Lani looked flabbergasted at his comment. And rightfully so. Quinn could relate. She felt heat rise up her neck and fill her face. She wanted to leave but was mortified someone might see her. Her childless life was a sensitive subject to her. Not to mention that she wasn’t getting a penny from the charter business and never planned to. She wanted to earn her fortune, not be given it. But the inn—that was probably going to be pulled into the discussion soon, and she wished she could disappear before that happened.

  Noah stood. He pointed his finger at Michael. When he spoke, it was calmly but with authority. “You listen to me very carefully. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Michael. I’ve never heard you disrespect anyone in this family like that before, and I’d better not ever hear it again.”

  Jonah stood too. He was deathly quiet and still. Like a panther.

  Kira burst into tears, though Quinn wasn’t sure if it was because she’d disappointed their father, or if she was upset for her husband. Or maybe both.

  “Take a seat,” Jules said, pulling on Noah until he sat back down. She beckoned for Jonah to do the same. “We aren’t going to draw battle lines in this family. I won’t have it.”

  “So I guess you’re going to tell Helen not to loan us the money?” Michael said. “Going to ruin our one and only chance at finally catching a break because you want to keep all the money tied up in the family business.”

  “My mother is in charge of her own accounts,” Jules answered, her voice soft. “But before you do this, I’d like for us to decide the future together, as a family. Like we’ve always done.”

  Michael stood and beckoned for Kira. He ignored Jules altogether. “Kira, get the boys. We’re leaving. No one is going to tell me how to make decisions for my family. You aren’t a child in this house anymore, and we don’t owe them anything.”

  Jonah stood and launched at Michael then, but just as fast, their dad stepped between them, stopping Jonah without Michael ever knowing what just about befell him.

  “Let it go, son,” he said, putting his hands on Jonah’s chest. “Let them go on home and we’ll discuss this later, when everyone has had time to cool down.”

  “He disrespects Mom like that again and there won’t be a later for him,” Jonah said, so quietly that Quinn had to strain to hear. As she did, she realized she was trembling.

  Jules came to her and pulled her into a hug, then let her go. “I’m sorry, Quinn. This wasn’t what we’d hoped to accomplish with a discussion, and I’m sure you aren’t used to all this family drama.”

  “No, not really.” She didn’t think the few years of teenage angst and gray hairs she gave her other mother could quite compare.

  “That’s just because you didn’t have your siblings around then. But I promise, it’s worth the growing pains to have family. Just bear with us,” Jules said, her eyes pleading for Quinn to understand.

  “It’s okay, Mom. Really. But I have to get back to the inn,” Quinn said, collecting her bag. “I’ll talk to you later this week.”

  She didn’t say goodbye to anyone else. There was too much chatter going on behind her, and her nerves were frayed from being a witness to her first family feud. She went out the back door, waited under the cover of the porch for Kira’s family to get in their van and leave, then went to her Jeep and climbed in.

  Once on the road, she picked up her phone to call Liam. Even if he couldn’t come to the hotel, she needed to hear his voice.

  Chapter Eight

  Maggie shifted in her seat, leaning in to give her total attention. Quinn had asked her over for a late Sunday afternoon chat. Maggie was tired but despite that, Quinn needed to vent, and that’s what best friends were for. Liam had Charlie, and they’d gone off on a short hike. Maggie didn’t want him too far from her, and Liam had promised to stay within earshot of the back of the inn.

  “And then Michael just stormed out of there with Kira and the boys,” Quinn said. “Jonah looked like he wanted to chase Michael and beat the piss out of him.”

  Maggie smiled gently. “I’m so sorry. But this kind of stuff happens in big families. We’ve had get-togethers where my brothers drew blood from one another, then the next day went out hunting together. It’s just the way it is. You’ll get used to it, I promise.”

  They heard footsteps behind them, and Maggie turned. A tall, older man came into view. Quinn greeted him.

  “Maggie, this is Mr. Westbrooks. He and his wife are guests here at the inn.”

  He held his hand out and Maggie shook it. He h
ad an official look about him, even in his casual polo shirt and shorts.

  Quinn cleared her throat. “Maggie, Mr. Westbrooks—David—is a retired detective and has offered to talk to you about some precautions you can take. Just to be safe.”

  Maggie felt cornered and a little peeved at Quinn. This was an obvious setup. Woodrow sat at her feet, the only thing keeping her from jumping out of her chair to go look for the wine bottle to fill her nearly empty glass. She had a feeling she was going to need a round two.

  She smiled politely. “I really appreciate it, but I’ve kind of been through the whole gamut of precautions, considering what’s happened in the past. I’m sure Quinn filled you in.”

  Quinn looked guilty, as she should.

  “Good for you,” David said amicably. He gestured toward Woodrow. “And kudos for getting the dog. I’ve told many clients that a dog can be their first and best defense, especially if he is trained.”

  “He’s only trained as a service dog, but he’s very protective too,” Maggie said, winding her fingers through the hair on Woodrow’s neck.

  “Great,” David said. “He’ll be a huge help to you if someone comes back around. And just so you know, stalkers are a strange breed. They’re lonely and lack self-esteem, yet they think they are extremely important.”

  “That sounds about right,” Maggie said, taking a sip of water.

  “I just don’t understand what they get out of it,” Quinn said. “Why spend your time going after someone who doesn’t want to be with you?”

  “That’s a tricky answer,” David said. “There are different variations of stalkers, but the two most common that I’ve dealt with are the predatory stalker and the rejected stalker. The predatory stalker is obviously the most dangerous, as he—or she, in some cases—seeks sexual gratification by using dominance and control. They get off on planning the process and fantasizing about the victim. The rejected stalker is someone most likely looking for vindication.”

  “Mine is the rejected stalker,” Maggie said. “We met on a dating site. I felt something was off about him, so after the first date I told him I wasn’t interested. He didn’t want to take no for an answer.”

  David nodded. “Very common. What mode of harassment did he choose?”

  “At first it was just irritating things. Flowers. Letters professing his love. I nicely tried to dissuade him for a while. Then when I finally told him outright to leave me alone, he got weird. He befriended people on my social network, then sent them messages with lies about me. He called my boss and told him he had a nude video of me. Which he didn’t, but at the time I worked as a publicist, and that’s the last kind of rumor we want making the rounds to our clients. He started showing up randomly at places I was at, like the grocery store or at a gas pump. One day I came out of a doctor’s appointment, and he was sitting in the lobby as if he were a patient too.”

  “Would it have been possible?” David asked.

  Maggie scowled. “It was at the gynecologist. I got a restraining order then.”

  “So what finally sent him to jail?” David asked. “He broke the order?”

  Maggie nodded. She felt sick. The memories never got easier to reprocess.

  “For weeks I thought someone was coming into my house, but I couldn’t prove it. I’d find little things out of place. Things I knew weren’t the way I left them. The police wouldn’t—or couldn’t—do anything without proof. So I set up a hidden camera, tucked into a teddy bear I had sitting on my dresser. It caught him doing, well . . . let’s say, unsavory things, with items from my lingerie drawer. Of course, he knew my schedule, so he made sure I wasn’t at home. I guess he didn’t think I was smart enough to set up surveillance. Still, they couldn’t catch him right away because somehow, he got wind of the warrant for his arrest.”

  She felt Quinn’s stare on her, but she didn’t look up. It would be full of pity.

  David sounded even more serious when he spoke again. “You’re right. He meets the criteria. But what I want you to understand, if you don’t already, is that a rejected stalker might seem harmless, but in some circumstances they can become predatory. Out of the many types of stalkers, the predatory and the rejected stalkers are the two most likely to assault their victims. If you had surprised him, there is no telling what he’d have done. Or what he had planned for another time.”

  Maggie felt ice water creeping into her veins. It was a balmy afternoon in Maui, and suddenly she was chilled.

  “Yes, I know that. I did my own research when this all started, and what I found was the catalyst to my year on the run. I quit my job, packed up my house, and went from town to town, jumping states to stay ahead of him, to keep my son safe, until they finally caught him.”

  David’s expression changed. “Oh, I wasn’t aware you have a son.”

  “You met him when you checked in,” Quinn said. “That was Charlie.”

  He nodded. “Oh, the curious little boy. That makes things a little more complicated.”

  “Were you able to find out if he’s still incarcerated?” Quinn asked.

  “I can’t call until tomorrow.” Maggie bit her lip, then realized Quinn would catch that and know how worried she was, so she let go.

  David leaned forward. “I get the impression you are fairly buttoned up and probably doing all the right things. But if it will make you feel any better, I’ll make a few calls and see if I can dig up any intel.”

  Maggie hesitated. She hated to involve a stranger, and she also didn’t like that this was all becoming real again. That old fear was settling into her bones, and it made her mind skip ahead to the next possibility. Where would she go next? And would she ever be able to settle Charlie somewhere?

  “Maggie, I can see what’s going on in that head of yours,” Quinn said. She reached over and grabbed Maggie’s hand. “Don’t feel like you have to be alone in this. Let David check it out. Just as a precaution. You’re safe here, though.”

  Maggie nodded, but she didn’t believe that. She didn’t believe she could ever feel safe again. She gave him the name and brought up the phone number and address of the correctional facility.

  David jotted it down, then turned back to Maggie. “Let’s talk about further defenses. Do you have a firearm?”

  “No, and I won’t have one. Guns and children in a small apartment are not a safe combination.” She was firm on that one, and her tone let him know it.

  “Even if she wanted to, she probably couldn’t get a license to carry here anyway,” Quinn said. “Hawaii gun laws are strict and especially in Maui.”

  “Then she should be taking some self-defense courses,” David said. “I’m sure there’s someone on the island.”

  “Listen,” Maggie said, “I grew up in a family of brothers. I can take care of myself.”

  “It never hurts to refresh what you know, Maggie. There’s a woman on the island who does formal classes,” Quinn said. “I can get you her number. I’ll even go with you.”

  Maggie almost laughed at that, imagining Quinn in a martial arts stance with her hands up in defense just wasn’t easy. She smiled at her. “We’ll see.”

  David stayed serious. “Next up is simple things. Put dead bolts on all outside doors. If you have a sliding glass door, get a wooden dowel cut to fit. Install an interior and exterior alarm bell. Something loud enough to wake the neighbors. Make sure you have lighting outside your windows, preferably at a height no one can reach. Be alert for any unexpected packages or mail, and don’t open anything that looks suspicious.”

  “Yes, I know all that,” Maggie said, mentally noting to work on getting alarm bells. She couldn’t afford a real system, but he was right, bells could help.

  “Are you working?” David asked.

  “I’m supposed to start tomorrow,” Maggie said.

  “Make sure your son knows how to dial emergency on any phone. Will he be in school? If so, you walk him straight to the door, and pick him up there too. No bus stops.”

  �
��He was supposed to start day care, but now I’m not sure what to do,” Maggie said. She had been trying to figure out something all day. If it came to it, she’d have to tell Dr. Starr she couldn’t take the job. She needed the income, there was no doubt of that, but her first priority was Charlie.

  Quinn cleared her throat. “I was thinking about that last night, Maggie. And I might have an idea.”

  Maggie looked up.

  “You said your hours are noon to six. I just fired a housekeeper who was working the afternoon shift. I could possibly rehire her as a nanny. She could keep Charlie here, and that way, I can keep an eye on him too.”

  “Why did you fire her? How do I know she’s trustworthy?”

  Quinn held a hand up and smiled. “Slow down, tiger. Her name is Rosa, and she’s a local. She’s a super nice girl. She’s just not housekeeping material. It’s harder than people think. She could be okay at it someday—with some extensive training—but I don’t have time for that. However, I could totally see her as a good caretaker for Charlie. I think he’d be smitten with her.”

  “I don’t know, Quinn. How do I know she’s even good with kids? Charlie is a handful.”

  “She met Charlie one afternoon in the café. I remembered that last night and how she seemed to be fond of him right away. She was a natural with him, but I’d be here to make sure I’m right. And I always work until at least seven or eight, so they could use my rooms when they aren’t exploring the grounds. Oh, and her background check was clean too. I check all my employees before hiring.”

  “That sounds like a much safer alternative to day care,” David said. “At times, if a stalker can’t get to you, he’ll try to scare your friends or family.”

  “I would kill him if he came anywhere near my son,” Maggie said, all traces of her earlier smile gone.

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” David said. “Just to be safe, though, it sounds like if you are going to take the job, he would be better here under Quinn’s supervision.”