by Mark Stone
“I brought Richard here and showed him my prisoner. I put her here, in this place he loved, and I was going to kill her here.” She ran her free hand through her hair. “At least, that was the plan.”
“He wouldn’t let you,” I sneered.
“He had nothing to do with it. My husband has always been in need of a backbone. He couldn’t have stopped me. But yes, he did come up with a couple pretty compelling arguments.”
“He was going to ruin it all. He’d have left you,” I deduced.
“You’re quite the detective,” Aubrey answered. “He didn’t care about the money or anything else. He said that, if I killed her, he’d leave me. Still, he didn’t want to go to jail. What we had done to keep our money were serious offenses. And now we had the wife of an up and coming government official in our basement. He knew how it would look. He knew this would mean the end of his career, and the end of his freedom. So, he convinced himself that, so long as she was alive, he could count himself as a good person.” She shook her head. “So, this is where she stayed: my husband and his whore.”
“She was pregnant,” I said, horrified. “Your husband--”
“He’s a monster, but he’s not that sort of monster,” she replied. “She wanted nothing to do with him after we took her captive. She was a smart thing. She tried to get away one night, and she almost succeeded. She fought me off and made a run for it She made it to the damned pier before I shot her in the neck, and even that wasn’t enough to stop her. She crawled out into the gulf and started swimming. I knew she wouldn’t make it, not with that kind of wound. Still, I hoped her body would never turn up.”
She shook her head.
“When you pulled her from the gulf, it coincided with my plan to have Peter Storm removed.” She shrugged. “Mayoral campaigns are expensive. Being CEO of the biggest corporation in the city would definitely help with that. I saw an opportunity. Drug running would be enough to get Peter Storm out of there, but I needed a trump card. I needed something so heinous and horrible, no one would ever look at him the same way again. Jonah and the woman standing behind you were just collateral damage. I took her from her house and left a letter telling Jonah to do what I said if he ever wanted to see her again. He changed the DNA results. He faked the pregnancy. She was never with child.” A flash of hate ran through her eyes. “I would have never allowed it, not with my son in the ground. I knew they would never see each other again, and that wasn’t fair, I suppose. What could I do though? I needed an in, and this woman had already seen my face. She couldn’t survive, and I wasn’t in the business of keeping long term guests out here anymore.”
“You didn’t get him,” I said. “I saved Jonah. He’ll tell everything.”
“Everything?” she scoffed. “I doubt that. He’ll have no way of knowing his mother is dead. Something tells me the boy will keep his mouth shut so long as I dangle the carrot over him.” She laughed. “Which will be just long enough for me to finish the job.”
“No!” Jonah’s mother screamed. ‘Don’t hurt him!”
‘Don’t worry,” Aubrey said. “You’ll already be gone. You two will both be dead, just like your friend upstairs, and then this house that I hate ... this damned monument to a son that my husband won’t allow to rest in peace … will burn. It, and you, will be ashes in the forest, but it’ll all be for the greater good. I’m going to change the world, Detective Storm, and I’m going to use my husband and your father’s company to do it.”
She raised the gun a little higher, pointing it at my head. I took a deep breath and braised myself for the bullet and for the death that would come along with it. I thought of my grandfather, of Isaac, of Charlotte, and Boomer. I thought of my mother, and what it would be like to see her again. Hell, I even thought of Peter, rotting away in that jail cell for something he didn’t do.
Then I thought of Jack Lacey.
Not because he was important enough to me to run through my mind at what I was sure would be the last moment of my life.
No, because Jack rushed into my line of sight, pouring down the staircase like a wrecking ball through an old building.
Aubrey must have heard him, because she spun, but she was too late. He slammed into her, knocking her sideways and to the floor.
Unfortunately, she didn’t drop the gun. She shot into the air as she fell and I pushed Jonah’s mother down while bullets flew through the air.
I ran toward Aubrey, still on the ground. She scrambled, pointing the gun at me. She fired a shot and I felt a sting run through my shoulder. I stumbled backward, but didn’t fall.
“I fired six shots upstairs before she emptied her pistol out into me,” Jack said, standing up. “She just fired two. How may bullets was in your magazine, Storm?”
“Nine,” I said, looking at Aubrey, who was standing with the gun pointed at my head again. “That leaves one bullet. You gonna kill us all with one bullet, Aubrey?” I asked. “It’s over. One of us is going to take you down and when we do, the entire world will know what you’ve done here today. You wanted to change the world, but all you’re ever going to be is a monster. People will hear your name, and their stomachs will turn and more than that, you’re going to spend the rest of your life in a jail cell.”
She blinked at me, narrowing her eyes. “No, I’m not, Detective Storm.” She nodded morbidly. “One bullet, you say?”
She sighed and turned the pistol back on herself.
“No, you don’t,” I said, my heart thumping hard against my ribcage. I tore toward her, crashing into her before she was able to pull the trigger.
Grabbing my gun, I thrust my hand upward before our bodies slammed hard against the concrete wall, with hers taking the brunt of the blow.
I heard something crack as I pulled away from her, her body falling to the dirt floor unconscious.
I handed the gun back to Jack quickly, and pulled out my handcuffs, my shoulder screaming in pain.
“How many?” he asked, looking down at me as I slapped the cuffs onto Aubrey. “How many bullets were really left in this thing?”
I snorted. “Hell if I know. What about you?” I asked, turning back to look at him. “How’d you survive all those bullets to the chest?”
He lifted his shirt. “Bulletproof vest, dude.” He smiled at me. “You should try it.”
Chapter 30
The next morning saw another beautiful day dawn in Naples. The sun was a bright ball in a cloudless blue sky. White sandy beaches ran into gulf water as clear as glass and as inviting as home.
And me? I was in the hospital.
After taking Aubrey Rich down, Jack and I managed to get Jonah’s mother out of the house. Together, we put both women in The Finder, taking Aubrey to jail and Jonah’s mother for much needed medical attention.
Of course, the instant they saw my bleeding shoulder and pale face, they wanted to admit me. Too exhausted to fight it, I relented and here I was, pumped full of pain meds and wearing a paper gown. As they looked me over, I suggested to Jack Lacey that he consider joining the force.
“We could use men like you,” I said.
He just laughed at me and shook his head. Something told me he didn’t think of himself as detective material.
The door of my room opened. I sat up in bed as my grandfather walked in, a sack filled with greasy goodness from Rocco’s in his hands.
“Fried oyster sandwich?” I asked, immediately pepping up.
“Fried oyster sandwich,” he confirmed and plopped the bag on the counter next to me.
“You’re the best, old man,” I said, digging into the sack, the unmistakable aroma of oysters pulled fresh from the gulf filled my nostrils and set my mouth to watering.
“I might have some competition on my hands,” he answered, sitting on a chair across from the bed. “You did a hell of a job out there last night.”
“It was just that,” I answered, peeling pack the paper to reveal one of the most beautiful sandwiches this world had ever known. “My job.
I don’t need bells and whistles to congratulate me every time I don’t screw something up.”
“Are you really too hard headed to take a compliment?” He chuckled.
“Are you surprised?” I asked, diving in with the first bite. The briny amazing taste of those oysters filled my mouth and made me happy to be alive, happy to be in Florida, and just happy in general.
“If I am, I guess I shouldn’t be,” my grandfather lamented as he settled into the chair.
“How’s Jonah and his mom?” I asked.
“They’re both going to make it, thanks to you,” my grandfather said. “She’s in better shape than him. Turns out that Aubrey woman strangled him to an inch of his life with a thick rope. She probably thought she had killed him.” My grandfather shook his head. “That wasn’t the last mistake she made last night.” He shook his head. “Boomer said he thinks they’re going to press charges against Jonah.”
“That doesn't surprise me,” I answered. “He broke the law, not that it gives me any pleasure to see that kid go down just for trying to protect his family.”
“I don’t think he will,” Grandpa said. “Boomer talked to Ethan, and it looks like the district attorney might be open to a pretty sweet plea deal. All the charges dropped in exchange for testifying.”
‘That’s great news,” I said, relief flooding me. “I mean, he won’t ever get to work for the police department again, but--”
“Stop that,” my grandfather said. “Forever is a long time, and we don’t know God’s plan. Things happen the way they’re supposed to.”
“Guess you’re right,” I admitted. “I’m just glad they’re both okay and that Ethan finally knows what became of his wife,” I said, setting the sandwich down and wiping my mouth with a napkin. “I can’t imagine what he must be going through now that knows.”
‘Whatever he’s going through, it’s not as bad as what he had been going through. It’s better to know, Dilly. Remember that. No matter what it is, it’s always better to know. It’s the only way to move forward.”
“Speaking of moving forward,” I said, sitting up in my bed. “I called Peter last night.”
“Was he on his knees thanking you for saving his stupid company?” my grandfather asked.
“Not exactly,” I answered. “He never was the ‘thankful’ type. You know that. That’s not what I called him about anyway.” I nodded firmly. “I had some savings up in Chicago, and I’m pretty sure I can find someone to buy my truck.”
“Why the hell would you want to go selling your truck? It’s a fine truck.” Grandpa narrowed his eyes at me. “I guess those pain meds are stronger than the doctors let on.”
“It’s not that,” I said, chuckling. “It’s just that Isaac needs me, Grandpa. He needs both of us.”
“I know that,” Grandpa said.
“A boy needs men to teach him how to be one,” I said. “How can I do that, how can I look that boy in the eyes and tell him he doesn’t need his father when I’m living on a houseboat he paid for?”
“You earned that boat,” he said indignantly. “You saved his--”
“I know what I saved,” I said flatly. “But we both know that’s not how it works. Besides, it’s too late. I already wired the money into his account. That, plus what I get for the truck should be enough to pay for half of it. Peter agreed to let me put the rest on a payment plan.”
“So, Peter Storm is our damned landlord now?” my grandfather asked, shaking his head. “Only in Florida.” He blinked at me. “Charlotte was at Rocco’s. Seemed awful concerned about you. Said she’d bring Isaac out to The Good Storm later.” He winked at me. “I told her to call first.”
“I don’t think Peter will be showing up anytime soon, not after I made it clear I didn’t want anything from him.” I sighed. “I swear, Grandpa, that man confuses the hell out of me. It’s like most of the time he doesn’t know whether or not he wants to be a son of a bitch.”
“If you can take it or leave it, I think that means you are it,” my grandfather answered. “Charlotte apologized too,” he continued. “Said she shouldn’t have acted like that and that she hopes you won’t hold it against her. Says she hopes the two of you can still be friends.” He shrugged. “Friends,” he chuckled. “I didn’t know you ever were.”
“We are,” I answered. ‘I mean, I suppose we are. I want to be something to her.”
“You can be, son,” he answered, creaking as he stood up. “You can be whatever you want to be for whoever you want to be it for. It’s fine by me. If you want to be her friend, be her friend. If you think there might be something more there, then explore it. If a bullet from a crazy woman didn’t kill you, I don’t think going on a date with your high school girlfriend will.”
“I don’t know,” I answered. “Isaac needs me. He needs a stable influence in his life. How stable can I be if I--”
“You’re overthinking it, son,” he said, laughing at me like I was still a kid asking him how the world worked. In some ways, I guess I was. I guess I would always be. “You don’t need to figure out everything all at once. You’re young, and you’re a good man. The only thing you need to figure out is how to be happy, and how to recognize a good thing when it walks through the door.”
Just like that, the door to my room opened again. Dr. Rebecca Day stood there, coy smile on her face and clipboard in her hand.
“Dillon Storm,” she said, biting her lower lip. “When they told me you were here, I couldn’t believe it.” She laughed. “I’ll admit though, I think this is the first time a man’s ever gotten himself shot just to see me again.”
I grinned.
“Most of them just ask me out,” she said.
“You know something, Rebecca Day?” I started, looking at my grandfather with a smile on my face and then back at the petite doctor. “I just might do that.” I winked at her. “How do you feel about oysters?”
The End
Want to know what happens to Dillon, Boomer, Charlotte, and the rest of the gang?
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For more on Dillon Storm and his group of Naples neighbors, check out the sequels.
Book 2: Far From Shore can be found here. Check it out!
Book 3 Across the Sound can be found here.
Book 4: Caught in the Surf can be found here
Book 5: Buried in the Sand can be found here
And…
A new Spinoff Series set in the Coastal Justice world can be found here.
Thanks, and until next time, happy sailing,
Mark