by ML Gardner
They turned down a long street. He could smell the salty air and hear the call of the seagulls.
“Where are we stopping?”
“The Sheriff’s office.”
They stepped inside and a short, pudgy receptionist looked up from her newspaper.
“Can I help you?”
“I need to speak with the Sheriff.”
“Reporting a crime?”
Bomani hesitated. “No.”
“Then what’s this regarding?”
Growing impatient, Bomani decided that it was only a matter of time before news spread all over this little town like a virus. He supposed it didn’t matter if the receptionist was the first, or the second to know. She’d know soon enough, and it would be all over.
“I’ve knowledge of intent to commit a crime. I’d just like to prevent it if I can. Could I speak with him, please?”
She perked up with interest. “Well, now, the Sheriff is out on some business, but I can get a deputy for you. He can take a report.”
“That’s fine.”
She rose and waddled to a back corner office, knocked briefly and poked her head inside. Bomani couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she was whispering intently.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Ruth asked. “I thought we were going to keep things quiet. We’re leaving a trail.”
“It’s fine. We’ll go warn him and then head out of town. After we leave, I’ll feel better if someone were keeping an eye on things.” He looked at Ruth and smiled. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll catch him and throw him in jail for a really long time.”
“Jail is too good for him.”
Bomani turned at someone clearing his throat. “Hi there. Name’s Marvin. How can I help you?”
∞∞∞
Caleb stood staring at the stash in the stall, holding a small bottle. “He said it was only booze.”
Patrick leaned against the rickety wall. “Looks like he lied.”
“I can’t have this here.”
“No, ye can’t. We could take it to the boat. Dump it in the ocean.”
“No. This is property of the Sheriff’s department.”
“And my granny’s the Queen of England.”
“It is. He said it was. They didn’t have room to hold it at the office. This is the overflow. He’s been slowly destroying it.”
“Funny, because it looks like the pile is growing.”
Caleb put his hands on his head and sighed. “I need to talk to Jon.”
“No, don’t do that. I wasn’t even supposed to tell you.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“No. He threatened you.”
“This doesn’t make sense.”
“Trust me, Caleb. If you’ve ever trusted me on anything in the world, trust me on this. Just dump it in the ocean. Act like you don’t know anything about it. Like someone found out and broke in and stole it. Else he’ll be out for you and me both.”
“He’s a law man, Patrick.”
“Caleb, yer a hell of a lot nicer to be around when yer sober, but not much brighter. Him being a law man doesn’t make a damn bit of difference. Looks to me like he’s got a side business going. If you’d open your eyes, you’d see it, too.”
Caleb sighed and sat down on a crate, staring at the pile.
“Jon would know what to do.”
Patrick removed his hat and slapped it across his hand. “Jon just buried his parents. His wife is pregnant and his business is barely keeping food on the table. He has enough on his plate. This is your land. Be the man of it. I’m goin’ home. I’ll be at the cabin if ye need me.”
∞∞∞
Jonathan and Ava sat on the couch listening to the radio. The window was open and the curtains moved with a cool breeze. The Indian summer had finally relented and gave way to the start of autumn. Leaves seemed to turn brilliantly overnight and mornings were crisp. The mid day sun was warm, but tolerable, and just as the sun went down, it was the kind of perfect comfort that one dreamed about all through the hot summers and frigid winters.
Ava yawned and leaned her head over on Jonathan’s shoulder.
“Do you think Jean will be okay?”
Pulled from his deep thoughts, he seemed startled. “What do you mean?”
“It might get chilly tonight.”
Relieved, he smiled. “He’ll be fine. I’ll put an extra quilt over him before we go to bed if it will make you feel better.”
She nodded and settled back down on his shoulder. “What are you thinking about?”
“Everything.”
“Impressive. I can only think of one thing at a time.”
“So do I. Just very rapidly.”
“Doesn’t seem like you’re thinking. Seems like you’re troubled.”
“Same difference anymore.”
“Arianna is bringing some baby clothes by tomorrow.”
“That’s nice of her.” His brow furrowed, remembering they didn’t have much for the baby at all.
“Katie is throwing a diaper party.”
“A what?”
“Where a bunch of us get together and visit and sew diapers.”
“Ah. I’ll be sure to organize a poker game during that time.”
“You’re not going to help sew?” she teased.
“Do you want the diapers to function? If so, I’d better not.” She grinned as he pulled her close.
The knock interrupted a peaceful silence. Jonathan rose and opened the door. His face fell as he scrutinized the stranger.
“Are you Jonathan Garrett?”
“Yes, who are you?”
“My name is not important. I have an urgent message for you. Can I come in?”
“I think you’d better just tell me from where you’re at.”
“I’d really prefer to come inside. I don’t feel comfortable standing out here.”
“And I don’t feel comfortable letting a perfect stranger into my house.”
Bomani nodded. “I understand. You don’t know me. But you do know her.” He stepped aside, revealing Ruth and Jonathan’s mouth fell open.
“What the hell is going on here? You’re supposed to be dead!”
“It’s nice to see you, too, Jon. Will you let us in? We do have something urgent to tell you.”
Jonathan turned and saw Ava, who sat on the couch with a look of utter disbelief.
“Maybe we should talk outside. I don’t want to upset her.”
“It might not be safe outside,” Bomani said. His eyes were desperate and Jonathan quickly nodded them in.
Ava stood up with her hands on her hips and her mouth still hanging open as Ruth took off her jacket.
“Why is it that every time I am having a most relaxing evening with my husband, you show up?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you like this. But it is very important. Not good news, I’m afraid.”
“Is it ever with you, Ruth?”
Jonathan put a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s just hear what they have to say.”
“If you have another kid besides Jean, I swear to God—”
Ruth smiled. “She’s gotten feisty.”
“I’m learning pregnancy does that to women,” Jonathan said with a hint of warning.
Ruth’s eyes traveled down to Ava’s stomach. “Congratulations. When are you due?”
“She’s due in December. Look, I’d really like to know what this is all about. Why did Vincent tell me you were dead and who is this you’re with?”
She got right to the point. “I’ve been in hiding. Victor tried to have me killed for, I’m assuming, insurance money. Maybe he was just tired of me and wanted to clear the air, maybe it’s because I know his secrets. Or because I tried to warn you about him right before you left New York. I don’t know.”
“Who is this?”
“This is Bomani. He has been helping me stay out of sight. Victor still thinks I’m dead. And we are here because he just found out that you are not.
”
The hair on the back of Ava’s neck stood on end and she folded her arms tightly.
“Excuse me?”
“He thought it was you that died on the Ava-Maura last June. The newspaper got things mixed up in translation.”
Bomani nodded. “And when he found out, he was livid. At first he tried to hire out your murder. Then he changed his mind. He is intent on doing it himself. He knows where you live and he’s on his way here now.”
Jonathan exploded into action, grabbing Ava and ushering her upstairs. “Get some things together for you and Jean. We’re leaving.”
“Where are we going?”
“Caleb’s. No, Claire’s. He doesn’t know where Claire lives. Just go and hurry!”
She moved as fast as she could. She was off balance and the quicker her step, the more unsteady she became. Twisting her ankle on the last stair, she fell, catching herself with her hands splayed out on the floor, and called for Jonathan. He came bounding up the stairs with Bomani and Ruth behind him.
“Are you okay?”
“My ankle,” she hissed, trying, but unable to reach it. Jonathan lifted her up in one swoop and carried her down the hall, setting her on the bed.
“I don’t mean to drop bad news and run, Jon, but if Victor finds out Bomani and I were here, we’re as good as dead. We have to get out of town.”
“Just wait!” he ordered. “I have more questions. Wait downstairs for me.” He turned to Ava, lifting her leg to look at her ankle. “Can you turn it?”
“Barely.” It was already beginning to swell.
“I think it’s just sprained. I’ll get Jean and our things. You sit here and I’ll come back for you.”
“Jon, I’m sorry, we have to go,” Ruth pleaded. It was clear they were not going to wait.
He spun around. “How long before he gets here!”
“Tomorrow, most likely.”
“Why does he care if you were here?” He stared pointedly at Bomani. “Who are you to him?”
“I worked for him, for a time.”
“Worked for him how?”
“He hired me to do jobs for him. Jobs he didn’t want to do.”
A flash of understanding crossed Jonathan’s face and he stood slowly. “Was it you that rigged the boats?” he asked. His voice was dangerously low.
“No. But I taught him how to do it.”
“Bomani—” Ruth whispered.
“You taught him?”
“He could have learned from anyone, anywhere, Jon. It wasn’t Bomani’s fault. He didn’t know why Victor wanted to know. He had no idea about any of this.”
Jonathan hadn’t taken his eyes from Bomani’s. “You helped kill a good man. May God have mercy on your soul.”
“I pray He does. Though I don’t deserve it.”
Ruth grabbed his arm. “We have to go, Bomani. We’ve done what we’ve came here to do. Our conscience is clear. I don’t want to stay any longer.”
Still staring at Jonathan, he said, “If he has more questions, we’ll wait. I owe him at least that.”
“Five minutes,” Ruth said, and turned away. Bomani followed her downstairs.
Jonathan sat down in front of Ava and covered his face with his hands. “Jesus, when is this going to be over?”
She put her hands on his head. “Go get Jean and our things. Let’s get to Claire’s. We’ll talk there and send someone to get Vincent.”
He nodded and rose, grabbing a suitcase from the closet.
∞∞∞
Jean sat next to Ava, rubbing his sleepy eyes. “Why are we going to Claire’s?”
“Because she invited us for the night. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
“It does. Does she have her bebe yet?”
“No, not yet.”
“Will Maura be there?”
“She will.”
“Can I get my blanket to take with me?”
“Yes, go ahead.”
He slid off the bed and padded out into the hallway. Jonathan packed what he thought they would need for three or four days. He darted out to the bathroom to get his razor and overheard Jean at the bottom of the stairs.
“Who are you?”
Like a shot he was down the stairs, grabbing Jean by the arm.
“Dadee, why is the backdoor open?”
“Who were you talking to?”
“Him.” Jean pointed and in the darkened corner of the living room stood Victor, gun in hand, a drunken smile on his face.
“Get upstairs now.” He shoved Jean in the direction of the landing and stepped in front of him.
“Cute kid. Is that the bastard Elyse went on and on about? The reason she came to me when she needed help finding you?”
Jean stood quivering behind Jonathan’s leg. “Elyse was my mommy,” he said quietly.
“Get upstairs, now!” Jonathan yelled without taking his eyes off Victor.
“Kids these days. Don’t listen to a damn word you say.”
“Get out of my house.”
“Soon.” A slow smile spread across his face.
“Jon, what’s going on?” Ava yelled from upstairs.
“Just stay upstairs!” he yelled back.
“That’s good,” Victor said. “Very good. Keep her up there. It’ll be easier to take care of her and the kid when I’m done with you. Can’t have any witnesses, you know. And the kid did see me.”
“You’re not going to lay a hand on them.”
Victor raised the gun. “I wasn’t going use my hands.”
Jonathan picked up a vase from the side table and hurled it at Victor. He ducked and fired, missing Jonathan by a hair, shattering a hole in the plaster wall behind him. Ava screamed from upstairs. Victor looked up and Jonathan took his moment, bolting across the living room and running headlong into Victor, knocking him to the ground. The gun fell out of his hand, landing with a thud on the hard wood floor. They both lunged for it and banged their heads. They rolled together, each having a hand on the gun. Jonathan used his free hand to punch Victor in the head. He let go of the gun and delivered a punch of his own, right to Jonathan’s throat. He gasped and wheezed, his eyes watering and his hands instinctively going to his neck. Victor grabbed the gun and pointed it. Through his watery eyes, he could see the barrel right between his eyes. He threw his himself to the side, missing yet another shot and bringing Victor over on top of him.
“Well, if that’s how you prefer it,” he said, grinning. He put a forearm across Jonathan’s throat and brought the gun down to his temple. Jonathan swung wildly through fading vision and had just enough time to stick a finger in Victor’s eye before the world around him started to fade. Victor let out a growling scream as blood flowed out of the socket. Still intent, he shoved the barrel against Jonathan’s skull. Neither of them noticed the movement at the door.
“Jon! MOVE!”
A shot fired and then everything was quiet. Both faces were splattered with blood. Both men were perfectly still.
Caleb ran in and rolled Victor off to the side. Jonathan’s eyes were open. His body was limp.
He blinked. Then he gasped for breath.
“Oh, thank God. Thank God,” Caleb whispered.
Marvin stood over them, the gun still in his hand. “Looks like I got here just in time.”
∞∞∞
Jonathan couldn’t shake the ringing in his ears. He rolled his head to the side and saw Victor lying on his back. One vacant eye stared back at him and his head had an odd shape about it. It looked deflated.
“It’s over,” he breathed as he closed his eyes, trying to sit up.
Caleb pulled him to his feet and helped to steady him.
They heard whimpering from above.
“Go to Ava,” Jonathan said and pointed to the stairs. “Tell her I’m alright.”
Caleb jogged up the stairs while Marvin disappeared into the kitchen. He closed the backdoor and began rummaging through drawers before returning to the living room.
He hel
d out a towel. “You have blood on your face. And…bits.”
“Bits?”
“Of Victor.”
Jonathan felt a wave of nausea as Marvin began to clean his face for him. “You can’t let Ava see you like this.”
“Jon! You’d better get up here!”
Ava lay on her side at the top of the stairs, holding her stomach. Jean crouched down near her head, holding Jonathan’s gun with both hands, looking scared.
“I heard the shots and tried to get to you.” She looked down and covered her face with her hand, mortally embarrassed. “I think I wet myself.”
∞∞∞
Jonathan paced the small waiting area of the hospital. His disheveled and bloodied state caused passing nurses to eye him with curiosity and a few stopped to see if he were waiting to be seen. He sat down and hid his shaking hand in his hair.
“Talk to me, Caleb. About anything.”
“Jean will be fine. I don’t think he saw anything and Katie will take good care of him.”
“I know.”
“Oh, ah…she’ll be okay. Ava, I mean. Don’t worry.”
“Not about Ava. Anything else. How did you know to come to my house?”
“I didn’t. I came to talk to you about something. I needed your advice.”
“Well, ask away. Distract me. Please.”
He bounced his knee, looking back every moment or so at the door.
“Just a problem I have at the farm. I don’t want to burden you with it right now. You’ve got enough to worry about with Ava.”
He glanced over his shoulder again and wrung his hands. “It’s too soon. She can’t have it yet.”
“Hey, that’s what I thought with Arianna and it all turned out fine.”
“That’s different. That was twins. They always come early. Thank God Marvin was there.” He wiped his face and stood again. “Sorry, I can’t sit still. I feel like I could run a marathon right now.”
“You probably could. And I’m glad Marvin was there, too.”
“What did you want to talk to me about? Give me something else to think about or I’ll go mad.”