Backrush

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by Jana DeLeon


  She’d had a missed call from her aunt the night before, having dozed off watching HGTV and playing Bubble Witch. By the time she’d awakened and noticed the call, it was already past midnight. Her aunt was usually up early, so Alayna figured she’d just get on the road then give her a call. She yawned as she loaded her suitcase in the car, then went back into the hotel to snag a large cup of coffee and a bagel from the setup in the lobby. Unfortunately, the sleep she’d gotten between Bubble Witch and when she woke shortly after midnight had been the only solid stretch she’d managed. The rest of the night, she’d tossed and turned, busy dreams keeping her from deep slumber.

  At 5:00 a.m. she’d finally given up and had taken another shower, hoping to prep her muscles for the drive ahead. Then she’d drunk the stingy two cups of coffee provided with the room and gone over her route on her iPad. If everything went perfectly, the remainder of the drive would take eleven or twelve hours. As soon as the sun peeked over the treetops, she headed out.

  When 8:00 a.m. came around, she put in her earpiece and dialed her aunt.

  “Alayna, thank God,” her aunt said. “I was just about to call again. I was afraid something had happened when I didn’t hear from you last night.”

  “Not at all. I just fell asleep watching television and didn’t think you’d appreciate my calling back in the middle of the night when I woke up and saw I’d missed you.”

  “I probably wouldn’t have hated it. Well, maybe just a little. Anyway, how far did you make it yesterday?”

  “Only to Roanoke, I’m afraid. Traffic was crap getting out of the city and I ran into some construction. I’m hoping to make better time today.”

  “Are you already on the road?”

  “Left an hour and a half ago.”

  “That’s great. I don’t suppose you’re going to make it tonight though.”

  “I’m going to try, but it will depend on how things go. I don’t want to be driving after dark.”

  “No. It’s best to be cautious when it’s an unfamiliar route. Give me a call later and let me know for sure. I was planning on leaving the key for you so you don’t have to stop and get it from me. Whether it’s tonight or tomorrow, you’ll be tired and wanting a shower. There will be time for visiting later on.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Bea. I’ll let you know how things look this afternoon.”

  She hung up the call and smiled. Just talking to Bea, knowing she was on her way to Tempest Island, made her feel 100 percent better. Her aunt was her rock. Her biggest fan. And Tempest Island was a magical place. A place of belonging and healing. When everything went down in New York and she knew she wouldn’t be able to stay, it never occurred to her to go anywhere else.

  Some might consider it giving up.

  Alayna considered it going home.

  She pressed the accelerator down and smiled as the miles ticked off behind her. At lunchtime, she stopped to refuel and checked the time and the app that reported traffic. Everything ahead of her looked clear and she’d made excellent time so far. Maybe even good enough to get to Tempest Island before dark. Which meant no time to waste on things like eating. At least, not eating in a restaurant. So she grabbed a hot dog and chips from the store while the fuel pumped and promised herself that she’d do a purge from junk food once she was settled in.

  By 5:00 p.m. she was roughly two and a half hours away from her destination, assuming the roads remained clear and the Gulf didn’t kick up a surprise storm. She’d lost a little time stopping at the bank to deposit the cash, but she’d felt better knowing the funds were out of her backpack and safely tucked away in her checking account. Now she was stopped again, this time for fuel, and stood staring at a motel across from the gas station. Did she risk it and continue? If she didn’t run into trouble, she’d arrive just before sundown. She rolled her head around in a circle, then twisted from side to side, trying to loosen up her stiff body. If her muscles could vote, they’d be standing in a hot shower in about twenty minutes. But her desire to be home, in her own space—well, her space for now—was greater than the discomfort she’d have from another two to three hours on the road.

  Mind made up, she went inside to grab what she hoped would be the last of her convenience store meals, then jumped in her car, ready to get back on the road. As she snapped her seat belt in place, she felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. She looked from side to side, then checked her rearview mirror, but didn’t see anything odd. Just normal-looking people going about their everyday business.

  She pulled out of the gas station and merged onto the interstate. As she drove, she checked her mirrors but didn’t see anyone enter the road behind her. She took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. It was just her imagination. Because of everything that had happened, she was on edge. And traveling alone just made things worse, but when Bea had offered to fly to New York and drive back with her, she’d refused.

  Bea had already done enough and was continuing to do for Alayna. She had a bookstore to run and didn’t need to pay people to cover for her just so Alayna had someone to talk to on the drive. And then there was the other thing—the dark possibility that Alayna didn’t like to think about. If someone was watching her, waiting for an opportunity to exact revenge for her agreeing to testify, then having Bea with her would only put her aunt at risk. No way Alayna was doing that. If anything happened to her aunt because of her bad decisions, she’d never forgive herself.

  She checked the mirrors again and felt her back relax when the only vehicles behind her were a school bus and an eighteen-wheeler. Letting out a sigh of relief, she queued up the book she’d been listening to and tried to concentrate on the story. In a couple more hours, she’d be on Tempest Island.

  Where her new life awaited her.

  Mateo Ruiz watched as the Honda Accord disappeared over a rise in the interstate, but he didn’t bother to accelerate. He preferred not to lose sight of her, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world if he did. He already knew where she was going. If she managed to elude him, he’d simply proceed to Tempest Island and acquire the target again. When she’d stopped in Roanoke the night before, he’d hoped she’d check into a hotel, then go out for dinner, giving him an opportunity to search her room. But when she stopped at the burger joint and left with a bag, he knew she was going into lockdown mode.

  He’d managed a search of her car that night, but the boxes of personal items and clothes contained nothing of interest. He figured anything important was in that backpack that never left her side. He sped up a bit and inched from behind the eighteen-wheeler he’d been trailing in order to take a look up the highway. The Accord was ahead of him by probably a half mile and showed no sign of exiting. He slumped a bit in his seat and grabbed the coffee he’d picked up at the diner across the street from the convenience store Alayna had stopped at. The waitress had warned him that it was old and probably lukewarm at best, but he didn’t have the time to wait for a fresh pot to brew, so he’d taken it anyway.

  He took a sip and cursed. It wasn’t even lukewarm. More like cool, and it tasted burned. Disgusted, he rolled down his window and tossed the entire thing out. Only a couple more hours and then he could settle in with all the hot coffee he wanted. Or better yet, a cold beer.

  He always liked a cold beer after a long day on the job.

  Chapter Four

  Alayna lifted the giant conch shell in the landscaping and pulled the key out of it. Trust Aunt Bea to keep her word and leave the key where Alayna could let herself in to get settled rather than insisting on meeting her there, thus forcing her into an awkward conversation that she wasn’t quite ready to have. It was coming, that conversation. But not yet. Maybe when she felt more normal.

  You’ll never feel normal.

  Too exhausted to go down that road again, she pushed the thought from her mind as she opened the door and stepped inside. The cottage was smaller than she remembered, the way structures always seemed with childhood memories, but the feel was exactly the same. The wall
s were still painted a light turquoise with white beadboard ceilings. To the left of the entry was a wall with two doors. One led to the tiny laundry room. The other to a small but serviceable bath.

  To her right was the compact but efficiently constructed kitchen, with its white cabinets and turquoise sea glass backsplash. It had an eat-in dining area comprising a window seat on one side and a weathered table and chairs. The cushions in the window seat and the chairs had been updated since the last time she’d visited and were now both white-and-turquoise striped.

  The kitchen was open to the living room, which was located at the back of the cottage. The entire back wall of the room contained two sets of sliding glass doors that led onto a deck and allowed a ton of natural light into the room. But this room was all about the view.

  A most magnificent view.

  White sand that felt like powder cascaded in sweeping mounds from the edge of the deck all the way down to water that matched the paint on the interior walls. Gentle waves swept in from the Gulf of Mexico, tiny whitecaps dotting the tips as they rolled onto the pristine sand. Sea oats adorned the dunes that stretched on each side of the cottage, blocking the view of her cottage from the one some fifty feet away. No matter how many times she’d seen it, this stretch of Tempest Island never ceased to amaze her with its beauty. And this time was no exception.

  The Accord sat in the driveway, waiting to be unloaded, but she ignored it and dropped her backpack on the couch before opening the doors onto the deck. The sound of the water rushed through her. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, letting the warm salt air pass through her nose and mouth. A gull flapped overhead, and she opened her eyes to watch it glide across the water then dip down to pick up its dinner.

  The sun was sinking fast, creating a yellow, orange, and pink glow across the horizon. Soon, it would be dark. That thought had her closing the doors and locking them behind her. She needed to get her stuff inside before the sun went down. She headed outside and grabbed her small suitcase from the car and hauled it inside. The suitcase contained her toiletries and her sleeping clothes, which would get her through the night. That, along with the remainder of the snacks she’d bought at the convenience store, would do until tomorrow morning.

  Then she carried the snacks, and what was left of a case of water into the cottage and sat them on the kitchen counter. On the final trip, she opened the center console and pulled out a can of Mace. The last ray of sunlight hovered on the horizon but any minute, it would fade away, and this uncluttered stretch of the island would be pitched into darkness, with no streetlamps or illumination from other structures to cast a glow around it. Only the porch lights and the moon, if it didn’t storm, would penetrate the dark.

  She locked the car and hurried inside, pulling the dead bolt on the front door, then grabbed the suitcase and backpack and headed for the only bedroom the cottage contained. The walls were still the same turquoise as the rest of the cottage, but the old yellow bedspread with seashells on it had been replaced with a bright white one with a mermaid in the center and turquoise scalloped edges. The matching pillow shams were perfectly propped up against the driftwood headboard. The only window in the room shared the same awesome view as the living room.

  She flipped the blinds closed to shut out the night, placed the suitcase on the bed, and pulled out the change of clothes and toiletry bag. After so many hours on the road, her sore body ached for a shower, but she’d wait until morning when this little space in the world was filled with sunlight again. She shed the tennis shoes, jeans, and tee she’d been wearing since before daylight and let out a sigh when she pulled off her bra. She tugged on shorts and a tank, then grabbed the toiletry bag and carried it to the bathroom.

  As she moved through the rooms, she did a quick check of the windows, ensuring they were all closed and locked, then checked the doors once more. She closed the blinds as she went and completed her rounds by shoving one of the kitchen chairs under the front doorknob. Then finally satisfied that she was secure for the night, she unpacked her snack bag, placing the meager contents on the counter. Finally, she grabbed the remaining bottled water and headed for the fridge, deliberating between potato chips and a candy bar for dinner. Both had looked good when she’d picked them up hours ago. Now, neither did.

  She opened the refrigerator to put away the water and found a loaf of bread, butter, ground coffee, condiments, eggs, sliced ham and cheese, and a container of potato salad. A bottle of wine completed the menu. A piece of paper taped to the wine bottle read simply, “Love you, honey. See you tomorrow. Aunt Bea.”

  Alayna smiled and pulled out the bread, ham and cheese, and potato salad. Leave it to Aunt Bea to think of everything. A sandwich was a sight better than what she’d brought with her, and even breakfast was covered. Eggs and toast with a cup of coffee…sitting on the back deck. There were so many worse ways to spend the morning.

  Like sitting in FBI headquarters.

  She shook her head. Those thoughts had no place here. That part of her life was over. She was going to have a new beginning on Tempest Island. A new life. She’d done it twice before, so it ought to be easy, right? Most importantly, no more being scared. The island had been her sanctuary once before and it would be again. But just the same, it wouldn’t hurt to leave the lights on tonight. It was a small place. It couldn’t possibly burn that much electricity.

  She grabbed her cell phone and sent a quick text to her aunt.

  I’m here. Thanks so much for the food! Lifesaver.

  The reply came quickly.

  I know my girl. Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.

  Alayna smiled as she made a sandwich, poured a glass of wine, and headed into the living room. As she put her plate on the end table next to the couch, she remembered the Mace. She hesitated, trying not to give in to her fear, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to relax knowing her one item of defense was out of her reach. She headed back into the bedroom and grabbed the canister, then placed it on the end table and plopped down on the couch.

  She snagged the television remote and turned on the TV. She’d never been one to spend a lot of time in front of the screen except the occasional movie when she had a night off and Warren was out of town. But ever since that night the FBI had erased her dream world, she’d spent a lot of time alone in her apartment and the noise of the television had been her companion, even though often, she wasn’t paying attention. Before that night, books had always been her preferred way to relax when she’d had some rare free time, but lately, she’d found she couldn’t concentrate well enough to get into the story. Even while listening to audiobooks on the drive to Florida, her mind had constantly wandered. But television didn’t require a lot of effort, especially if you didn’t really care much about what was on. And the sound filled the silence that she’d grown to hate.

  She located the Weather Channel first to check out the forecast. The weather had been great on the drive into Florida, but it was the Gulf Coast, and thunderstorms were common. She frowned when she saw the big red blotch moving from the Gulf inland. Letting out a sigh, she changed the channel to HGTV. It looked as though the tiny island was in for a rough night. It was called Tempest Island for a reason. But that meant sleep would be at a premium.

  She shook her head. Who was she trying to fool? Sleep had been at a premium since the FBI had taken her out of Warren’s building in handcuffs. But she still held out hope that it would eventually change. That sleep would allow her the escape she so desperately needed.

  She had to hope. It was all she had left.

  Alayna bolted upright when the boom of thunder shook the cottage, and she fought back the initial panic that rushed through her before she remembered where she was. Between the cracks in the patio blinds, she could see lightning flashing. A couple seconds later, rain began to pound on the roof. She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep on the couch, but the stiffness in her back and neck told her she’d been there for some time. She checked her watch: 5:00 a.m
. The last thing she remembered from the night before was checking her email around 10:00 p.m. She’d been asleep for almost seven hours and probably hadn’t moved an inch. Between that and all the hours she’d spent in her car the day before, it was no wonder she was sore.

  It was no use trying to go back to sleep. Even the comfort of the bed wouldn’t drown out the storm or slow her racing heart. The sun would be up soon. She might as well start her day. She rose from the couch and headed into the kitchen to make coffee. First, two cups at least, then a shower, then breakfast. She got the coffee maker set up and smiled when the smell of the fresh brew wafted up a couple seconds later. She located coffee mugs and was pleased to find packets of artificial sweetener next to them. As she pulled the items from the cabinet, she heard a noise outside the cottage.

  Like something had scraped down the side of the house.

  She stiffened, then grabbed one of her chef’s knives from its pouch on the counter. She peered out the kitchen window, but the porch light didn’t reach that end of the house. In the living room, she pulled back the vertical slats that covered the patio doors and looked out. The light illuminated the deck and a small portion of the dunes beyond, but she didn’t see anything untoward.

  It was probably something blowing in the storm.

  The silhouettes of the palm trees swayed just beyond the cottage, their giant fronds whipping around like sails in a gale. The marsh grass lay almost flat on the ground. That must have been it. The wind had lifted something up and it had hit the side of the cottage, scraping against it as the storm blew it past.

  She let go of the blinds but as they fell back into place, she saw something move, just beyond the deck. She yanked the blind back again and squinted into the darkness, but nothing was there.

 

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