by Peggy Webb
Zap her, unchain her, throw her over. Easy as one, two, three. Then he’d dive in long enough to get his clothes wet and make the sad call to Lily.
Darling, there’s been a terrible accident.
He was bending over Annabelle with the needle when her unchained leg lashed out and her shoe caught him squarely in the groin. He doubled over and stumbled backward. Before he could get out of reach, her lethal foot slammed him under the chin. His teeth cracked, his head snapped back, and the needle went flying from his hand.
They both scrambled for it. He was hampered by shock and pain, and she was younger and more agile.
The needle glinted in her hand. Her face was fierce in the light of the pale moon.
He stumbled away from her, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. She lunged, and he felt the sting in his neck. His last thought was I’ve underestimated her. His last awareness was of the long, slow fall into darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jack stood beside Lily on the deck as the lights of the police search boat cut through the darkness. He hadn’t left her side since her frantic call.
She’d left the manor without a coat, and one of the rescue team had given her a yellow slicker. She huddled inside, more from fear than the cold. She was so scared she couldn’t think about anything except catching Stephen before he carved up Annabelle as he had Cee Cee and Debbie and countless other girls.
“How far ahead of us do you think he is, Jack?”
“I won’t lie to you, Lily. His boat is an open water speed demon. We don’t know if he’s still in the sound or has already made it into the Gulf beyond the barrier islands. And it’s going to be harder to find him in the dark.”
Because of the heinous nature of Stephen’s crime, there were three search boats in the water—theirs and two from Biloxi. Behind her, she could make out the noise as the rescue team communicated with each other. To her, it was merely the constant static of fear.
“I wish I knew what they were saying.”
“I’ll go check. Will you be okay?”
“Yes.” It was a lie. She’d never be okay until she found her daughter safe. She’d never be whole until she could put this horrible chapter of her life behind her.
She squinted into the distance, searching, hoping, praying. But all she could see was a vast darkness where the horizon had melted into the sky.
The ring tone of her cell phone startled her, and she fumbled as she tried to find it among the folds of her oversized coat.
The name seemed to jump off the screen. Stephen.
“Hello? Stephen?”
“Mom! It’s me!”
Lily sank to the deck. “Annabelle! Where are you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Her daughter was crying.
“Are you okay? Where’s Stephen? Did he hurt you?”
“No.” She paused, sniffling. “He’s gone. He fell overboard.”
A tsunami of emotions washed over her. It was almost a sickness, this kind of relief.
She heard footsteps and swiveled to see Jack racing toward her.
“It’s Annabelle,” she yelled. “She’s on Stephen’s phone and his boat. He’s in the water.”
The entire team went into a frenzy of activity, some racing toward Lily, others communicating the news to the other rescue boats.
“Can Annie drive the boat?” Jack called out. His face was alight with the good news.
Lily shook her head, no, then punched the speakerphone. “Annabelle, Jack and a rescue team are here. Do you think you can drive the boat if they talk you through it?”
“No, Mom. I could barely reach the tail of his coat to get his phone. I’m chained to a pole by the fish box.” A mother’s rage boiled so furiously she barely heard her daughter saying, “I couldn’t get loose to save him.”
Save him? What alien planet did teenagers come from?
“Annabelle, is the boat still moving?”
“Yes, but not fast. I think the motor’s idling, and I’m just sort of drifting along.”
Jack knelt beside Lily and leaned over her shoulder. “Annie, this is Jack. That’s okay. We’re coming to get you. Take a good look around and tell me what you see.”
“It’s dark. I can’t see anything.” There was more sniffling, the sound of her daughter scrambling around, and the unmistakable clank of a chain. Lily died a little inside. “Wait. There’s a long dark blob ahead, maybe an island?”
“She’s in the sound,” somebody shouted.
“Boat two has her in its sights,” another shouted. “Allistair headed straight to Horn.”
“Hang on, Annie,” Jack said. “We’re coming to get you.”
Lily woke with one thought in her mind. Stephen was still at large.
Though divers had started searching the morning after the stunning arrest of two Allistairs and a massive manhunt for the third, Stephen had not been found. Was it only the day before yesterday? It seemed a lifetime ago. Since his boat was found so close to Horn Island, cops had simultaneously swarmed the island. They’d found nothing except sea oats, Saw Palmettos, pine trees, and wildlife that inhabited the inland lagoons and the sand dunes along the beach.
Had Annabelle actually injected him before he fell into the sea, or had he managed to swim away to freedom? Even worse, would he come after her and Cee Cee again? An extra guard was now posted in Cee Cee’s hospital room.
When Annabelle told the story of what happened, she knew she got the needle into his neck, but everything had happened so fast she wasn’t certain she’d pushed the plunger. Every waking moment since Lily had heard the story, she was grateful she’d insisted on self-defense classes after a bullying incident at school when Annabelle was thirteen.
She dressed quickly and followed a cinnamon and ginger scent trail into the kitchen. Jack’s mother Susan, still in her gown and bathrobe, her silver hair sticking up in spikes all over her head, was taking a pan of gingerbread from the oven. Her husband Bob sat at the antique oak table nearby, laughing with Annabelle over some story he was telling about their adventures in Italy.
Lily didn’t know if it was her daughter’s youth and courage that made her so resilient, or the fact that Jack had moved the two of them into his parent’s house the night of the rescue then called to tell Bob and Susan they were needed back home. It was incredible what gingerbread and constant hugs from substitute grandparents could do for the morale of a teenager who’d experienced the worst society had to offer and grown up far too fast.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Bob, a tall, rangy guy like his son, got up to kiss Lily on the cheek. “Coffee’s ready, and Mama’s making gingerbread boys.”
“I could smell them all the way down the hall.” Lily hugged Annabelle close then leaned down to kiss Jack’s petite mother on the cheek.
“Now, look. You’ve got flour on your mouth.” Susan swiped the flour off her own cheek, laughing.
“You should be resting after that long flight home, Susan. Grab a cup of coffee and let me make my famous dish.”
A chorus of three voices said, “Scrambled eggs.”
“That’s right. I never said I was Martha Stewart.”
It felt so good to be in the kitchen doing this small domestic chore that Lily wondered why she’d ever thought she would fit in with a family who had a staff do everything.
“Do I smell gingerbread and the famous scrambled eggs?” Jack strode into the kitchen, his face wreathed in smiles, his leather jacket slung over his shoulder.
“Join us, son. Lily always makes enough eggs to feed a battalion.”
Was her habit of overdoing it because she remembered days when she and her mother would divide one egg between them? And was that childhood memory one of the reasons she’d agreed to marry Stephen?
Don’t go down that path.
“Hey, you.” Jack slid his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Can I borrow you for a bit after breakfast? Yancy wants to see us.”
“Do we need to go now
?”
“It can wait.” He pulled out her chair and folded himself onto the one beside her. Then he proceeded to dig into the eggs and send Annabelle into wild cheering with the announcement that Cee Cee was being released from the hospital right after lunch.
While Lily was wondering whether she could find a furnished apartment that fast or whether they would need to move to a hotel, Susan solved the problem by insisting that everybody, including Cee Cee, would stay with them through the holidays.
“I can’t thank you enough, Susan.”
“That’s what family is for.”
Later, as she and Jack climbed into the car, Lily was thinking that while she’d searched for family in the wrong place, it had been right under her nose, waiting for her all along.
“What’s this all about, Jack?”
“They found a man’s body this morning, washed up on the beach at Horn Island.”
“Stephen?”
“They don’t know. That’s why we’re going to meet Yancy.”
“How could they not know? His face is all over the media.”
“Brace yourself, Lily. Sharks got to him.” That was not surprising. The Mississippi Sound was sometimes referred to as a sharks’ nursery. As Jack parked the car, he glanced at her face, and then the ring she’d forgotten to take off her finger. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Let’s go inside.”
As she and Jack followed Yancy, she wondered if she’d find the last of her nightmare waiting at the end of the long, cold hallway.
There was one body in the autopsy room, and what lay under the sheet was not for the faint of heart. Tatters of his clothes hung to the remains, the Polo logo miraculously intact on the black turtleneck pullovers he favored. The face was gone, as were both legs. But the arms and hands were intact. The tiny tattoo of a mushroom on the inside of his left wrist was there. The long, tapered fingers that had stroked her back then cut off the limbs of the girls who would become roses lay bloodless on the gurney.
“That’s Stephen.”
“Are you sure?” Yancy said.
“Positive.” Even with so little evidence, her heart told her so. Where it had once beat like the wings of a caged bird on the night of her engagement party, it now soared as if the door had been flung open and it had caught a glimpse of the blue and endless sky.
When they were back in Jack’s car, he said, “Tell me what you need, Lily.”
“A little time. Can you drive around a bit?”
“Sure.”
As the familiar scenery flashed by and the truth settled in, Lily found her composure. “This is horrible, but I’m thinking about what he did to all those girls, and I’m thinking this is a sensational kind of poetic justice.”
“That’s not horrible. It’s human.”
She pulled off the ring and dropped it into the zipper pocket of her purse. “I’m selling this and putting the money into a college fund for Cee Cee. It will be another kind of poetic justice.”
“It’s also the mark of a kind and generous soul.”
“Thank you, Jack.”
“How about we drop by your shop for a second cup of coffee? I’m partial to your break room.”
As he always had, Jack was leading her to a quiet place to help her prepare for the media circus that would follow. Because of the celebrity status of the Allistairs and the grisly nature of their crimes, the trial and the press coverage would be non-stop and sensational. Protecting Annabelle and Cee Cee would be paramount.
Further, she wanted to adopt Cee Cee, to take her out of her constantly changing foster situation and give her a permanent home.
But for the moment, she just needed to breathe. She poured two cups of coffee and slid in beside Jack at the table.
“I’ve decided to do the Scarlett O’Hara thing and think about my problems tomorrow. I just want to spend the rest of the holidays trying to recapture the wonder and innocence of childhood for Annabelle and Cee Cee. They’ll be grown and gone before I know it.”
“That’s a great plan. I want to help.”
“You always do. And I always appreciate it.”
“Lily, this time I want it to be different. I’m helping you both as a friend and a man who cares deeply about you—and has for a very long time.”
“Jack…”
“Before you say anything I know you’re facing a media frenzy, and you need time to heal, probably as much or more than Cee Cee.”
She reached for his hand. “Thank you for that.”
He glanced at their intertwined hands and then deep into her eyes. “I don’t want you to get the idea that I’m leaving things to chance, the way I did after your mom died. When you’re ready, I want to be at the top of your date card.”
When we come to a crossroads and see the right path leading into our future, there’s a small, still voice in all of us that whispers yes.
“Jack, don’t you know? You’ll be the only man on my date card.”
FamilySecrets.Life
It takes courage to change directions and start all over. Do your homework, listen to your mind as well as your heart, then relax and enjoy the journey.
FamilySecrets.Life
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Get the final BEHIND CLOSED DOORS novel, Fatal Deception, by Cindy Gerard.
Sneak Peek
Deadly Reflections © 2020 by Regan Black
When questioning a family member about the past,
it is vital to be prepared to listen.
The fewer expectations you have for that conversation,
the more likely you are to discover sincere answers.
FamilySecrets.Life
ONE
Paige Coker stared at the bustling activity behind the uniformed police officer at the front desk of the station. The flurry of voices and movement struck her as chaotic, though that couldn’t really be the case. Several men and women were seated at desks, islands of calm surrounded by the constant, swirling hum of activity.
“Can I help you?” the officer asked.
“I’m Paige Coker,” she replied with a smile. “Detective Lewis asked me to come by.”
The officer lifted his chin toward the chairs lined up against the wall. “Have a seat.”
She sat down to wait, her mind wandering. She remembered visiting this same police station on school field trips through the years. They’d come by in fourth or fifth grade the first time. Years later, her high school criminal justice class toured this station, as well as the courthouse, in order to observe the system in action. The detective she was meeting today had been a classmate and friend on that trip.
Those visits had left her feeling proud of the people who served her community and several of her peers had been inspired to study law or go into police work, like Ronnie. Paige had known she would need to find a different way to contribute. The front lines weren’t the right place for her, an only child groomed from the cradle to take the safe and secure path through life.
Not that she didn’t crave her share of adventure, she just chose her battles carefully. The daughter of wealthy parents who often hosted or headlined the guest list of elite Charleston, South Carolina events, her dreams were carefully analyzed and moderated for risk factors. Anything that had the potential to stir up scandal or, more importantly, to upset the delicate emotional balance at home was set aside.
Her mother, Cora Alden Coker, had a history of debilitating depression that went back to before Paige was born. She recalled times as a child when her mom was off limits for a few days. Her dad, Jack, always made the best of it, taking time off work or inviting his sisters to come and stay with them. Paige had been trained to always be cautious and thoughtful with her mom and though Cora hadn’t had an episode in several years, those habits were set in stone now. Whenever Paige and her dad could shield her from potentially upsetting news, they did.
Cora wasn’t a burden, but her tolerances always factored into Paige’s ch
oices from education to career to where she chose to live.
There had been private academies from kindergarten through high school. She’d been encouraged to choose an in-state university where she earned both her bachelor’s degree and an MBA. And while she enjoyed her time not-too-far-away, her parents cleared a corner of the estate and built a house for her to come home to.
She didn’t resent those allowances because she adored her mother. And when she had to compromise, Paige considered the trade-off of a happy and content family worth the effort. It never occurred to her to press for more independence. She had the freedom she needed and she was close enough to help her dad if her mom’s depression started to take over.
Her dad’s retirement party—a big surprise in the works—was the most current example. Jack Coker was wrapping up thirty years with his financial firm and looking forward to shifting his priorities away from the office to more relaxing pursuits. Cora had started making the arrangements for the event from the menu to the guest list, but after their first meeting with his assistant, she panicked and asked Paige to take the reins. Cora had been overwhelmed by the details and though she was excited, she feared making a mistake with the very public event.
Naturally, Paige adjusted her schedule. She handled similar events for her clients all the time and she’d been honored to create a memorable send off for her dad. Her mom’s excitement for the event, and what retirement would mean for them as a couple, was growing now that Paige was handling the details.
And today she had a long list of tasks to follow up on. Some personal and some for the party. Last night her mother had finally narrowed down the dessert options, so she pulled out her phone and sent the final choices to Melissa Renner, the chef and owner of the catering company handling the party. They’d reached crunch time with the party just ten days away. Her dad believed the party was the typical firm holiday event and with luck no one would slip up and spoil the surprise.
