Everglades Escape

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Everglades Escape Page 11

by Kathleen Tailer


  “I think so, too,” Theo concurred. “If it’s all the same to you, I believe we should stay here for the time being. Those winds are pretty strong out there. It’s not safe to be in the kayak, and I don’t see any other mode of transportation available.”

  “I agree.” She nodded. “Let’s do a search and see if we can find a radio or other way to call for help.” She winked at him. “Finding a stash of food would be okay, too. That meal yesterday with John and Mark spoiled me.”

  “No kidding. That fish was amazing. Power bars just aren’t the same.”

  They spent the next half an hour going through each drawer and shelf in the small building. Unfortunately, they didn’t find anything that would be useful for communicating with the outside world.

  There was a small sink and coffee station in the small office in the back, and Whitney made them both a cup of coffee in case they lost power due to the storm and couldn’t make some later. She kept looking around, relief flooding through her when she found a microwave and four cans of soup in a cabinet above it, as well as a liberal supply of paper goods. She wasn’t hungry now since she’d just snacked on the power bar, but it was nice to know they would have something for later since it didn’t look like they were going anywhere anytime soon.

  The storm continued to build outside, the wind and rain pelting the building. They heard a loud crash and rushed to the window to get a glimpse of what had caused the noise. A large pine tree behind the building had come down, but had thankfully missed the building.

  Whitney crossed her arms and rubbed her shoulders. She wished the windows had shutters, so she could at least protect them from flying debris if something blew against the glass and broke through. She didn’t like storms, and really didn’t like being in this small ranger station with one raging outside. Whenever a hurricane looked like it was going to hit Tallahassee, she’d packed up and fled to Atlanta, or to one of her brothers’ houses.

  She glanced around the room and her eyes landed on Shorty. The dead body on the floor didn’t bother her. The idea that a hurricane was blowing outside while she was stuck in this rickety old building, however, made her very nervous.

  Theo must have noticed. He motioned for her to follow him into the center of the room by the interior wall and then sank to the floor, using the wall as back support.

  Whitney took one last look around, then followed and sat next to him, her coffee cup still in her hand. He had probably picked the safest place in the building to go. Experts usually recommended hiding in an interior bathroom or closet if a person was stuck in a home during a hurricane; those were the most structurally safe locations. Of course, if the hurricane became a category 4 or 5, there would be nothing left after a storm, regardless of where they hid. Without some sort of radio or internet access, however, there was nothing else that she and Theo could really do to prepare.

  She said a silent prayer, asking God to protect them from the violent storm.

  * * *

  Theo was again noticing little details about Whitney. He knew she didn’t like frogs or alligators, but apparently he could also add storms to the list. She had been pacing before, her arms and hands constantly in motion, as if she just couldn’t keep still. He took her hand and leaned back, closing his eyes, hoping that she would find the contact comforting and also less objectionable if he wasn’t looking at her when he touched her.

  She allowed the contact once again, and he was pleasantly surprised that she didn’t pull away. They sat in silence for several minutes, just listening to the storm raging outside. He’d meant to comfort her with his actions, but he found himself enjoying the contact more than he wanted to admit. Her skin was soft like satin, and just knowing she was nearby and facing these obstacles with him soothed the anxiety in his own heart.

  “So tell me the story of your life,” Theo said quietly, still not looking at her.

  Whitney gave a small laugh. “Wow, you must really be bored.”

  He opened his eyes and found that she was looking at him intently. He grinned. “Not at all. I’d just like to get to know you better.”

  “There’s not much to tell,” she answered with a shrug. “But truth be told, I’d rather hear about you.”

  “Nice deflection,” he noted. “I don’t usually talk about myself.”

  She smiled. “Yeah, I guessed that. But I’ve told you about my brothers and why I went into law enforcement. I think it’s your turn to share a little.”

  He pressed his lips into a thin line. She had a point, yet opening up to her still made him uneasy, despite the fact that she was growing on him. He drew his thumb across the back of her hand, trying to decide if he was ready to talk about his past or not. It was a tough decision. He was a very private person, and his introverted personality had driven him even further into solitude after he had gone through his family’s tragedy. Was he ready to reach out to this woman and open himself up for pain once again? Even if friendship was all that they ever shared, he still didn’t know if he could stand losing someone again, and in their current situation, losing her was a definite possibility.

  She must have sensed his hesitation and taken pity on him. Her next words confirmed it. “Tell you what—let’s make a deal.” She squeezed his hand but didn’t break the contact. “I’ll ask you three questions. Then, in return, I’ll let you ask me three. If you survive the first round, we might do another, but if three questions are all you want to answer, we’ll stop there. What do you think?”

  He tilted his head to the side, considering her words. “Law-enforcement officers are probably pros at digging answers out of people. Are you sure you can stop at three questions?”

  She put her hand over her heart. “I promise. Only three, unless you agree to answer another three after you’ve had your turn.” She nudged him playfully. “I’ve had CPR training. If the shock of talking about yourself causes your heart to stop, I promise, I know how to get it beating again.”

  He laughed outright. “Oh really?” Still, he had to admit, he was enjoying her banter, and the entire conversation was keeping their minds off the storm, the dead body across the room and the drug dealers breathing down their necks.

  “Okay,” he finally agreed. “Take your best shot.”

  She beamed as if he’d just given her a precious gift and tapped her cheek as if she needed all the help she could get with choosing her questions carefully. “If I only get three, I need to make sure they count.”

  Despite the fact that he had agreed to this game, he could feel a tightness in his chest as he worried about what she was going to ask. He was uncomfortable with baring his soul. Why had he decided to play this game? Hopefully she would stick to impersonal, generic questions.

  “Ready?” She gave him a side-eyed glance.

  “Sure. Go for it.”

  “Okay. Question number one. How old are you?”

  He blinked. “What?”

  Whitney shrugged. “I’m guessing you’re in your thirties, but I’m not very good at knowing ages on sight, so I admit, I could be way off in my estimation. You might be almost fifty.”

  He raised an eyebrow, then saw the mirth in her eyes shimmering just below the surface. “So I look fifty to you?”

  She shrugged. “It’s a definite possibility. You might be closer to sixty. I think I saw some AARP magazines at your house on the coffee table, and wasn’t there a walker stored in your bedroom closet?” She sighed dramatically. “Don’t worry. At least you’re aging gracefully. You still look pretty good for a man with your advanced years.”

  Tension drained from Theo as he laughed at the funny expression on her face. He had to give her points for putting him at ease. He could tell she had deliberately asked something simple and made a joke out of it to help him feel comfortable. “You’re pretty good at this game. I’m thirty-six. My birthday is in March. Next?”

  “Okay. Question nu
mber two.” She tapped her cheek again with her finger. “Do you believe in God?”

  Theo nodded. Although he had fallen away from his faith after his wife and daughter had died, it was still a part of him, and he would never deny God’s existence. “I do. I’m a Christian. My faith is very important to me, even though I’ve stumbled with it lately. I do miss attending church, though, since I’ve been living on the island. Next?”

  Whitney squeezed his hand again. “Okay. Good. I’m glad you said that. Last question.” She leaned forward so their eyes met. “Why are you so sad?”

  His heart was suddenly thumping against his chest and it was all he could do to maintain eye contact. He swallowed. “Do I seem sad to you?”

  She nodded. “Very. I realize I haven’t known you very long, but it’s like someone turned a light off inside you. I’ve been wondering why ever since I met you.”

  Theo looked away. For a moment or two, he was lost in memories. Finally he returned his gaze to Whitney’s face. “Four years ago, I had everything I ever wanted in life. I was a doctor in the emergency room up in Tampa and my career was flourishing. I was married to a beautiful woman and I had a sweet five-year-old daughter.”

  “And then?”

  “I lost everything in one afternoon. My wife was driving my daughter to ballet class and she was hit head-on by a teenage driver who was texting his girlfriend from behind the wheel. They brought them to the ER where I was working, but I wasn’t able to save them. I lost them both.”

  He finally released her hand so he could take off his glasses and wipe his eyes where tears had begun to make his vision swim.

  “Theo, I’m so sorry.” Whitney cupped his cheek with her hand for a moment then leaned back. “I’m sure you did your best.”

  “I did, but it wasn’t enough. I tried to pull in a surgeon or even another doctor to help, but there had been two other accidents that occurred at about the same time, and all of the victims from each of the accidents seemed to arrive at the same time. It was a nightmare.” He put his hand over hers before she could move it, then twined their fingers. “After that, I just couldn’t practice medicine anymore. If I couldn’t even help my own family, what good was I as a doctor?”

  Whitney shook her head. “That’s not fair. I’m sure you’ve helped hundreds of people with your medical skills. That talent is a gift from God.”

  He shrugged. “A short time later, a friend of mine who was good at grant writing helped me apply for the coral project grant. I got the award, and started working from the island. I had an undergraduate dual degree in biology and environmental science, and did some research work before I went to medical school, so they thought I would be the perfect candidate.” He blew out a breath. “So far, they seemed pleased with the results and even increased my funding, but there is still a lot of work to be done.”

  “Slacker.” She smiled, teasing him with her words and her expression. “Only two undergraduate degrees? Most people I know have three or four.”

  He made a face himself. “Oh really?”

  “Yes, really.” She laughed out loud this time and the tone was like music to his ears.

  She could have kept pressing for details about his wife and daughter’s deaths, but instead, she was gently guiding the conversation into safer territory, letting him decide how much to share. He appreciated her sensitivity. “You must hang out with some pretty brainy people.”

  She winked at him. “They don’t let just anybody become a US Marshal, you know.”

  “I’m starting to realize that.” This time he squeezed her fingers. “Okay. My turn.”

  She rolled her shoulders as if preparing for the ultimate challenge. “Okay, Mr. Brilliant. Lay it on me. I’m ready.”

  “Okay. Question number one. How old are you?”

  She laughed again. “Lofting softballs at me, are you? Toughening me up for the fast pitch?”

  He shrugged. “It’s a serious question. I’m even worse at guessing a person’s age than you are.”

  “Give me your best guess.”

  “No way. I learned my lesson a long time ago. A man can never guess a woman’s age, or her weight. Not if he wants to survive.”

  Whitney shook her head. “Oh please.” Her tone was playful. “Okay, you win. I just turned thirty last month.”

  “Ah, that’s exactly what I was going to guess.”

  “You were not!” she protested, laughter in her eyes.

  “Question number two—”

  Suddenly a frantic knock sounded at the door. Theo had been so involved in their repartee that he had momentarily forgotten their desperate situation. The reality came crashing back down around him as he stood and headed for the door. He motioned to Whitney. “Let me do this. Stay out of sight.”

  There was no way to look out the door to see who was banging on it. He took a deep breath, then unlocked the dead bolt, fully expecting a gun barrel to be shoved in his face. Had the drug dealers tracked them down in the middle of a hurricane? They were just that tenacious. Anything was possible. His pulse sped up as he turned the knob and threw open the door.

  THIRTEEN

  “Please help us!”

  Whitney approached the door at the sound of the plea for help. She stopped next to Theo, who still had a look of surprise on his face. There was no drug dealer with a gun at the door. Instead there was a Hispanic couple with three children of various ages clinging to them. They were all soaking wet, windblown and looked as if they were about to fall down.

  “Come in, come in!” She motioned as the wind whipped around them on the porch.

  “Our b-boat sank,” the man sputtered as Theo grabbed him as he started falling to the ground. “It was all we could do to make it here in one piece.”

  Whitney reached for a little girl that seemed about four years old. She was shivering, but Whitney guessed it was more from fear than the cold since the weather was still rather warm despite the storm. She hugged her close and drew her into the room. The girl came willingly, as if she needed the warmth of Whitney’s arms to feel safe.

  The mom gave Whitney an appreciative glance. “Thanks. I wish I could grow another pair of arms.” The other two children, a boy and girl that seemed about eight or so, were wrapped around her and making it hard for her to even walk. She ushered them in behind Theo and her husband, and Whitney stood, still holding the girl, and closed the door firmly behind them.

  Whitney shared a look with Theo. He nodded and they moved the new arrivals into the small office, away from Shorty’s body. She didn’t want the children scared by the corpse lying on the floor in a pool of blood. Apparently, Theo had understood her apprehension and agreed with her. Although Whitney didn’t like the idea of messing with a crime scene before the authorities could process the evidence, there was no way she was going to leave that man’s body in plain sight where it would traumatize the kids. As soon as they got a chance, they would have to do something about that.

  The kids...

  Right before she had left Tallahassee, the doctor had given her the fateful news. You will never have children. She could still hear the doctor’s voice, echoing in her head with the finality of the statement being emphasized over and over in her brain. You will never have children.

  She had always wanted a family, and the news had been so devastating that she’d had to leave town to get away from everything that reminded her of her broken dreams. Even being around children now made her heart hurt, and the little girl in her arms was no exception. Every toothless grin, every toy aisle in every store and every sticky-fingered child reminded her that she was a failure.

  I can never have children. Ever.

  And now she had a four-year-old hanging on to her neck for dear life. Whitney’s heart was beating a mile a minute in trepidation. The girl felt so heavy and right in her arms. What she wouldn’t give for a child of her own! But sh
e would never have that. It was a bitter pill to swallow. Still, she couldn’t let the child just cling there, wet, ragged and traumatized, seeking comfort that she was willing to receive even from a complete and total stranger. The girl’s mother obviously had her hands full, and was exhausted herself. This little one needed help, and Whitney was available and willing.

  She hugged the child to her, then pulled back to get a better look at her face so she could reassure her. The girl had somehow managed to put her thumb in her mouth, and Whitney recognized the almond-shaped eyes and other facial features of a child with Down syndrome. “Our boat sank,” the girl said simply.

  “I’m so sorry,” Whitney said, pulling her close again as she sat in a chair. “You’re safe now. I promise.” She started rocking the child gently back and forth, and the girl relaxed against her. Whitney brushed the long dark hair out of her eyes. “What’s your name?” she asked gently.

  “I’m Melissa.” The girl had taken her thumb out of her mouth long enough to respond then quickly slid it back in again.

  “We’re the Martinezes,” the man volunteered from a seated position by the wall where Theo had been sitting only moments before. “I’m David, and this is my wife, Geri.” His wife had settled in next to him on the floor, taking the other two children with her.

  “These two are Analena and Carlos.” The kids looked up but didn’t speak. Geri hugged them affectionately. “They’re both a little shy and probably won’t say much until they warm up to you. Please don’t take it personally.”

  “Not a problem,” Whitney answered, still hugging Melissa. “We’ve had a rough day today, too, but it sounds like yours was even worse.”

  “The storm wasn’t supposed to even come in this direction,” David noted. “We checked the news a couple of days ago when we first set out on this camping trip. It was just a tropical storm then, and it wasn’t even supposed to hit the USA. The weatherman said it was just going to bounce along the eastern seaboard and then head back in the Atlantic.”

 

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