by Jana DeLeon
They spotted Pete as they came through a patch of sea oats and Alayna called out. He looked over at them, his relief apparent. Old Franklin was out of the tidal pool and sitting on the sand next to Pete, glaring up at him. Pete was dripping wet and his shirt was missing. Luke glanced down and realized it was covering Old Franklin’s lap. Mostly.
“Mr. Franklin,” Alayna said, “it’s Alayna Scott. Remember me? I brought you a blanket.”
“Don’t need it,” Old Franklin said. “Warm enough out here already.”
“If you catch a cold, then your son will be mad at me,” Alayna said. “You don’t want that to happen, do you?”
Old Franklin sighed. “Fine. But that boy is a trial for me. Always bossing. Always knowing better. I can’t believe I raised such a stick-in-the-mud.”
Alayna draped the blanket around him as he scowled.
“Thank God,” Pete said. “He insisted he was going to rinse off in the ocean. I told him that it wasn’t safe to go swimming in the surf right now, especially as the sun was going down. But he’s surprisingly quick for an old guy.”
“Who are you calling old, punk?” Old Franklin groused.
“So what happened?” Luke asked, indicating Pete’s wet clothes.
“When I was talking to you, he jumped up and ran for the water,” Pete said. “By the time I noticed, he was halfway there. I took off after him, but he made it in before I reached him. He was staring out at the ocean when a huge wave crashed into him and he crashed into me. I’ve got burns on my knees and elbows from being rolled in the surf.”
“I’ve got burns in worse places,” Old Franklin said. “If you hadn’t gotten in my way, I could have dived right through that wave.”
“You were standing upright and I was behind you,” Pete said. “You were never going to dive into that wave and I’m the victim here.”
Old Franklin waved a hand in dismissal. “Get off the cross. Someone needs the wood.”
Pete’s eyes widened, and Alayna burst out laughing. Luke tried to contain himself as he had a ton of empathy for what his friend had been through, but he couldn’t help it and finally joined Alayna laughing.
“Sorry, buddy,” Luke said. “But Alayna was explaining to me on the way over that Mr. Franklin is a retired pastor.”
Pete stared at Alayna in disbelief and dismay as she nodded.
“This is wrong on so many levels,” Pete said.
“His son is on his way,” Alayna said. “He’s the current pastor. He should be here any minute.”
Voices sounded on the trail behind them, and Luke looked over to see an older gentleman wearing a suit and no shoes hurrying through the sand with a woman wearing a pretty yellow dress and no shoes right behind him.
“Dad, what are you doing?” Young Franklin asked as he approached. “We’ve talked about this. When you’re outside the house, you have to wear clothes. At minimum, a swimsuit. And you can’t go swimming this late and definitely not way out here. It’s not safe.”
“Wasn’t swimming,” Old Franklin said. “I was bathing. You know I love the hot springs.”
Young Franklin glanced up at the sky and Luke guessed he was praying for divine intervention. The woman Luke assumed was his wife bent over, trying to coax Old Franklin up so they could take him home.
Old Franklin groused for a couple seconds, then flung the blanket off his shoulders and popped up, remarkably fast for someone with ninety-year-old knees and no muscle content to speak of. Unfortunately, Pete’s T-shirt dropped on his way up and everyone averted their eyes. Young Franklin looked as if he wanted to take a long walk into the ocean and not come back.
Mrs. Franklin hurried to grab the blanket and threw it over his shoulders. “Thank you so much, Alayna. I’ll get this washed and back to you. And maybe we can have a visit and catch up. I know Bea’s thrilled to have you home.”
As she started to lead Old Franklin away, Young Franklin stuck his hand out to Pete. “I assume you’re the gentleman who kept an eye on my father. Thank you so much. When I think of what could have happened…”
“You’re welcome, sir,” Pete said. “I’m a medical doctor with the Navy. I hope I’m not overstepping if I say that you have a situation here that you need to address. Has your father been tested?”
Young Franklin nodded. “It’s Alzheimer’s. We’ve been trying to manage it but it’s becoming increasingly more difficult—and you’re right, unsafe. I’ve been putting this decision off for quite a while, but I know it’s one I have to make soon. I’d never forgive myself if something bad happened and I could have prevented it.”
“It’s a hard place to be,” Pete said. “If you need any help with your decisions, I know someone who specializes in elder care. She’d be happy to speak with you and let you know what your options are. No cost involved.”
“I would be grateful,” Young Franklin said. “Please get my number from Alayna and send me the information. Thank you again. I best get him home.”
The three of them watched as they walked away, and Pete shook his head. “What a sad and frustrating situation,” he said. “And so many find themselves between that rock and a hard place where a facility with experience with aging diseases is the most viable option but the senior is dead set against it.”
Alayna nodded. “I imagine the guilt is overwhelming.”
“And a former pastor would be well versed in how to dish out that guilt,” Luke said.
“Sure,” Pete said. “But when it reaches the point of being danger to themselves, then you have to let go of the idea that you can handle it alone, regardless of how bad it makes you feel.”
“Not to mention that it’s not the best idea to have your father flashing tourists when you’re the pastor,” Alayna said. She told Pete the boogie board story.
Pete cringed. “I desperately need a shower and a drink and not in that order. Would you guys give me a ride back to my place? And maybe join me for a round? I don’t want to be that sad guy drinking alone.”
Luke laughed. “You’re just hoping you can bribe me with that expensive bottle of whiskey you bought so I don’t tell everyone on base that you got rolled in the surf by a naked old guy.”
Pete grinned. “Got me.”
Birdie cleared the dishes from the table and started loading them in the dishwasher. Since Tom had gone to visit his friend out of town, they’d eaten later than usual. Dinner had been Tom’s favorite—stuffed bell peppers. She didn’t make them often and quite frankly, had expected a better reception than what she’d gotten. Tom had seemed somewhat pleased but clearly, his thoughts were elsewhere during dinner. She’d had to keep repeating herself. And he didn’t even take seconds as he usually did. He’d just finished off what she’d put on his plate and said he was going to work on something in the garage for a bit before bed.
For a long time, Birdie had thought she was being foolish for thinking something was off, but that was no longer the case. When she’d finally worked up the strength to tell Bea about her suspicions, she was relieved that her friend didn’t think she was being dramatic. If anyone was going to tell her she was wrong, Bea would. Bea had known Birdie and Tom for decades and wouldn’t hedge on anything.
So Birdie was now standing firm in the fact that Tom was hiding something. And in her experience, hiding things rarely came to a good end. Look at poor Alayna and what had happened to her. She’d lost her entire life’s work because she’d accidentally taken up with someone who was invested in living a lie.
Was the same thing going to happen to Birdie?
Would all the years spent building the business, paying off debt, and saving for retirement be thrown out the window? Together, they had a comfortable life. Split in half, things would be much harder for both of them. And how did they split the business? No way Birdie would be able to work with Tom every day if she was no longer married to him. And what about the house? It was paid for and worth a pretty penny given the lack of real estate on the island, but half of the sale price
wouldn’t even buy her a tiny cottage here now.
What if she had to move to the mainland? Get a job? Her only qualifications were running an ice cream shop and serving up treats. And at her age, how many would be willing to hire her? Businesses would rather invest in someone younger who wouldn’t retire and leave them high and dry and who would likely be healthier and have more energy. Birdie knew the health and energy thing wasn’t necessarily true as she could match any young person in her store, but the perception was all that mattered. It meant she had marks against her before she ever got into an interview, assuming she could even get one.
She sighed and turned on the dishwasher. This entire train of thought wasn’t helping matters. She was worrying about things before she needed to and all it was going to do was lead to a night of restless sleep. Then she’d awaken in the morning feeling like crap and without a darn thing changed. All her life, she’d been able to keep her stress levels reasonably in check. She managed to convince herself that there was no point in dwelling on things she couldn’t control.
But this time, she’d met her match.
Breaking Point
* * *
“Love is bigger than any tidal wave or fear.” – Bethany Hamilton
Chapter Twenty-Three
Alayna opened the door to her cottage and disarmed the alarm as soon as she stepped inside. Luke closed and locked the door behind them and then pulled her to his chest and gave her a long, lingering kiss that set her entire body on fire.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since we left earlier,” Luke said.
She grinned. “Even while we were on the beach with Old Franklin?”
He winced. “Maybe not then. But the entire time we were having drinks with Pete, all I could think of was kissing you again.”
“Just kissing?”
“I am on board for anything your heart desires.”
“Right now, it desires another kiss.”
He obliged her and she melted into his embrace. She could feel his heart beating against her chest and it excited and comforted her at the same time. She’d never felt so many things about one man. One moment. She’d fought the attraction at first because she didn’t think she was ready, but there was no preparing for this anyway. It was like being knocked over by a tidal wave.
Her phone rang and Luke groaned. She frowned, wondering who could be calling so late. It was near midnight. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, expecting to see Bea’s number and hoping nothing was wrong, but she didn’t recognize the number on the display.
“Is it Bea?” Luke asked.
“No. I think it’s from California, but I don’t recognize the number.”
“Probably a sales call or wrong number. Just let it go to voice mail.”
Alayna frowned. Something about the call bothered her and she didn’t know why. But the overwhelming urge to answer it rushed over her and she pressed the button.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Alayna?” a woman’s voice asked. It sounded vaguely familiar, but Alayna couldn’t place it.
“Yes?”
“This is Carrie Winston. We met last year at a charity event.”
“Yes. Brad’s sister. I remember.”
“I…I got your number from Brad’s phone. I don’t know how to tell you this, but Brad has been killed.”
Alayna sucked in a breath. “What?! How? Oh my God.”
“The police said it was a robbery at his house here in California. I’d called him yesterday evening and he never returned my call and wouldn’t answer this morning. So I went over to see if he was all right. The cops were already there. Apparently, his housekeeper found him and called it in. They wouldn’t let me in the house, claiming it was a crime scene, even though I told them I could advise them on anything missing. Then I went to the morgue and they refused to let me see the body.”
“Why would they do that?”
“They claimed it was because they had already established identity and it wasn’t necessary to put me through the stress of identifying Brad. I told them that wasn’t the only reason I wanted to see him—that our parents were going to want someone other than strangers verifying that their child was dead.”
She choked up on the last few words and Alayna waited as she composed herself.
“Their refusal was so odd that I started calling in some favors, and I think I finally got to the root of it all,” she said. “Because of Brad’s ties to Warren’s investigation, the FBI was notified. And according to a friend of mine at the morgue, they were given strict instructions that neither me nor my parents were allowed to view the body.”
“But they can’t do that.”
“Apparently, they can. But my friend sneaked me in late tonight after everyone had gone home.”
She paused for several seconds and Alayna heard her take a deep breath and slowly let it out.
“He was tortured, Alayna. That’s why they didn’t want me to see. I won’t go into the details, but it’s clear by the marks on his wrists that he was tied up, and I won’t even describe the rest of the damage. This was no robbery. I don’t have proof, but I know this has something to do with Warren. I would bet my inheritance on it. As soon as I got over my shock, the first person I thought of was you. If they came after Brad, then you’re not safe either. Brad didn’t know anything about Warren’s dealings. I asked him about it over and over again and I’m certain he wasn’t lying.”
“I’m certain too,” Alayna said. “He was blown away by all of it…just like me.”
“You have to protect yourself,” she said. “I don’t know what’s going on and the FBI won’t even return my calls, but tomorrow, I’m going to start raising hell. And trust me, they will regret the choices they made today. When I get answers, you’ll be the first person I call. But please, please watch your back.”
“I will. And thank you for calling me. I’m so sorry about Brad. He was a really good man.”
“He was.”
She disconnected and Alayna dropped her arm and stared at Luke. “Did you hear that?”
He nodded, his expression grim. “Brad was one of Warren’s friends, right?”
“They’d been buddies since they were kids. Do you think Carrie’s right about what happened?”
“What do you know about her?” Luke asked.
“She and Brad come from a wealthy family. I mean really wealthy—like Warren’s—but they both work. Brad had several businesses—mostly to do with construction. Carrie founded and runs a nonprofit in LA that helps victims of domestic abuse get training and job placement.”
“So she’s levelheaded and has seen plenty of the dark side of human nature.”
“I’d say that’s probably true. I’ve only met her once, but she seemed very genuine and realistic.” Alayna bit her lip. “So if she says Brad was tortured, then I believe her. But there’s no reason to torture someone to rob their house. Why not just kill them and proceed at your leisure?”
“Maybe he kept a lot of money on hand—a safe maybe?”
“They wouldn’t have had to torture him for the combination. Brad wasn’t the sort who would have let pride stand in the way of his life, and there’s no way that any amount of money he kept in his house could put a dent in what his family has. He would have given them anything they asked for.”
Luke ran one hand over his head. “Unless he didn’t have it.”
“You think they were looking for something specific—something to do with Warren?”
“If the FBI is trying to cover it up, then I can’t think anything else. They let the two of you, who were the closest to Warren, walk away with the reassurance that your lives weren’t in danger. Then the son of a wealthy family is tortured and killed inside his own home and across the country from where Warren did his crimes, and the FBI has instructed everyone to go silent. They don’t want that screwup to get out.”
“Should I call Agent Davies?”
“Probably, but that conversation is a di
cey one.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you can’t let him know that you’re aware Brad was tortured, or you’ll get Carrie’s friend in trouble. And given what you told me about her organization, it’s possible that ‘friend’ in the morgue was one of the people she helped at some point.”
“Shit. I didn’t think about that. He’s just going to give me the whole ‘it was a random thing and nothing to worry about’ line, isn’t he?”
“Since he didn’t bother to call and inform you of what happened himself, I would bet money on it.”
“So should I call?”
“I would. If they screwed up then maybe he’ll throw some resources your way now, even if he just phrases it as them using an abundance of caution—or whatever ass-covering language he chooses. But I’d wait until morning.”
She nodded. “That’s smart. I’ll have to tell him that Carrie is the one who told me because I have no other connection for getting that information. But if he knows she called me at midnight, then he’ll know it wasn’t a just-to-let-you-know call.”
“Exactly. Carrie sounds like someone I’d like—especially since she’s not taking anyone’s word over her own instincts and experience. I’m grateful that she called to warn you. I wouldn’t want to create trouble for her.”
“Me either. Especially since she’s already got Brad’s death to deal with. How do you tell your parents something like that? God, what a nightmare.”
“I can’t even imagine.”
She sniffed and tears pooled in her eyes. “Brad was a nice guy. And it was real. He came to see me the day I left New York. He gave me five grand and insisted I take it. He felt guilty about what Warren had cost me even though he didn’t know anything about Warren’s crimes. But he wanted to do something to help. He wanted me to be all right.”