Shore to Please

by Annette Mardis

  “I’m perfectly fine, Flipper. Don’t treat me like I’m helpless.”

  “Didn’t this morning teach you anything? Situations can change in an instant, landing you in trouble you might not be so lucky to get out of next time.”

  “Why do you assume there will be a next time?”

  “Until the police link Childers or someone else to the worst of the letters and the potshots in the parking lot, I’m not resting easy, and neither should you.”

  “Okay, fine, you win. I won’t leave the police lobby until you drive up. Will that satisfy your macho urge to protect me?”

  “It will. I’ll see you in just a bit.”

  *

  Tara sat in a hard plastic chair watching the comings and goings outside police headquarters. She expected to see Flipper’s Wrangler pull up outside the door any minute. When the man himself strode inside, stone-faced and resolute, she flew to her feet and into his open arms. In her peripheral vision, she saw people’s curious looks, but for once she didn’t care about “making a public spectacle of herself,” as her mother would’ve described it. They shared a kiss so steamy she wouldn’t have been surprised to hear someone shout, “Get a room!”

  When they pulled apart, several onlookers had the gall, or the good humor, to applaud. Tara noticed that Flipper preened. Just like a man.

  “Let’s go,” he urged. “We’ve given these folks enough excitement for one day.”

  Tara shielded her eyes when they walked outside into the bright sunshine. “Where’s your Jeep?”

  He pointed to the other side of the lot as a gleaming black Hummer pulled up alongside them. Tara’s pulse tripped until she recognized Scott behind the wheel.

  “Get in,” the bodyguard ordered.

  “It’s not far to walk,” Flipper replied, barely sparing the other man a look.

  “I said get in.”

  Flipper scowled but opened the door, ushered her into the front passenger seat, and climbed into the back. “Where are you headed now?” Scott inquired.

  “Orlando Regional Medical Center,” Tara informed him. “Do you know Orlando? It’s on Kuhl Avenue.”

  He punched some buttons on his GPS. “This will be easier if you two ride with me. I’ll drop you back here later.”

  “I still need to go by my condo.”

  “Then we’ll do that after we’re done at the hospital.” If they had any objections, Scott didn’t wait to hear them before pulling into traffic.

  “I’ve never been in a Hummer before,” Tara said to make conversation. “They don’t manufacture these anymore, do they?”

  “No. GM shut down production in 2010. Don’t ask me why our company still uses them. They get awful gas mileage.”

  “But it makes quite a statement to drive one, doesn’t it?”

  “I guess. This one’s loaded. Satellite radio, heated leather seats, dusk sensor in the headlight controls, ‘intelligent’ airbags.”

  Tara nodded as though any of that mattered to her. She couldn’t seem to stop chattering as she tried to block out that morning’s events. If she thought too much about what happened, she might fall apart. Her nerves pinged like gravel off a windshield. She even jumped when Flipper reached forward and placed a calming hand on her shoulder. She wished she could cuddle with him in the back. Maybe then she’d feel secure.

  When they pulled up in front of the emergency room, Scott instructed them to wait just inside the automatic doors while he parked his vehicle. Tara expected Flipper to balk, but he didn’t say a word. She surveyed the lobby, making inadvertent eye contact with a disoriented-looking senior citizen clutching his bruised, swollen wrist and a harried young mother trying to corral a squalling toddler.

  Tara averted her gaze to stare into a tank of freshwater fish in spectacular fluorescent hues not found in nature. As she watched them flit about, she wondered why in the world she’d come here. Steven wasn’t her concern any longer, but she couldn’t wash her hands of him when he was injured. Could she?

  “Thank you for not complaining about my helping Steven,” she told Flipper. “I know this is the last place you wanted to be today.”

  He pressed a kiss to her temple. “My place is wherever you are.”

  At that moment, Tara made up her mind. The thought had been bouncing around in her brain since the attack that morning, but Flipper’s unwavering support brought it into sharp focus.

  “I’ve decided to sell the condo.” She smiled at the emotions—relief, exhilaration—that lit up his face. “I’ll give Steven his share and deposit the rest in the joint bank account you and I will open so we can save for a house.”

  Flipper sank into a kiss just as the automatic doors whisked open.

  “Are you two at it again?” Scott complained. “You should be keeping an eye on your surroundings, not sucking face.”

  Tara pulled away, but this time she wasn’t flustered.

  “Oh, hush,” she admonished. “Don’t be such a fuddy-duddy.”

  His mouth quirked. “Yes, ma’am. I guess you told me.”

  “Well, now that you’re back and willing to hurl yourself into the line of fire to protect us…”

  Yanking Flipper close by his shirtfront, she planted a smacking kiss on his lips. Just as they settled in for a more leisurely meeting of their mouths, Steven limped out to the waiting room. His gaze circulated around the room until it locked onto Tara.

  “Ex-boyfriend at two o’clock,” Scott alerted.

  Tara separated from Flipper again, and he frowned when Steven headed in their direction. He appeared unsure of his welcome until she introduced him to the other two men and began fussing over his bruises and bandages. Steven shot Flipper a smug look and asked how she was feeling.

  “A little sore but not all that worse for the wear, fortunately.”

  “You’re lucky I tackled Chase or he might have really let you have it.”

  “Yes, I guess I am in your debt for that.”

  “Except if it hadn’t been for you, Childers wouldn’t have shown up at her door in the first place,” Flipper pointed out. “Exposing her to danger isn’t what I’d call heroic. A better word for it is—”

  Tara cut in, “We’re here to give you a ride back to the condo so you can pick up your car, Steven. Ready to go?”

  He glanced with wariness at Flipper and Scott. “You sure?”

  “Yes, of course. And if you need to stop at the drugstore or the grocery, let us know.”

  “Thanks, but I think it’s best if I get out of your way as soon as possible.”

  Flipper whacked him on the back hard enough to make Steven grimace. “You’re smarter than you look, Christianson.”

  Chapter 33

  By the time she dragged herself into Flipper’s cottage, Tara was exhausted, her adrenaline rush having long since worn off. Traffic had been bumper-to-bumper, as usual, around the Disney complex, and a jackknifed tractor-trailer brought traffic to a standstill just outside Gulf Shore’s city limits. She’d watched through her windshield as Flipper smacked his steering wheel while, in her rearview mirror, Scott checked his watch every few minutes. She’d had to pat her cheeks with increasing vigor just to stay awake.

  “Baby, you look like you’re about to fall over. Why don’t you stretch out on the couch while Scott and I carry your stuff in?” Flipper suggested.

  “I think I will close my eyes for a bit.” Her lids were already drooping. Seconds after her head hit the throw pillow, her breathing deepened and she fell into a dreamless sleep.

  She jolted awake what seemed like moments later, only to find she’d taken a two-hour nap. Disoriented, she listened for sounds to indicate she wasn’t alone in the house. But all she heard was the ticking of the dolphin clock on the wall. She sat up, her aching body protesting with every movement, and looked out the front window. The Hummer was still parked along the curb and the Jeep in the driveway behind her sporty sedan, but there was no sign of the two men.

  Before worry could take ro
ot, she caught sight of them examining one of the side windows. A few minutes later, Flipper and Scott came inside, their eyes hard and their mouths in a grim line.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  The men exchanged a look before Flipper answered, “Everything’s fine. Nothing to concern yourself about.”

  “Don’t give me that. Something’s happened. Did you find another threatening note?”

  “No. But it looks like someone tried to pry open that window.” He pointed toward the west side of the cottage. “Jo’s on her way over to check it out.”

  Tara tried to stay calm. “Somebody attempted to break in while we were gone?”

  “I know for a fact it happened after Flipper left for work this morning,” Scott informed her. “George, my overnight relief, didn’t notice anything unusual during his shift, and those marks weren’t there when I did my security check before escorting Flipper to the aquarium around seven. But they were there when we returned from Orlando. Those gouges were caused by a pry bar or some other tool. Something spooked the son of a bitch before he could get inside because both the glass and the screen are still intact.”

  “Is it possible Chase could’ve done this? Would he have had time to get back to Orlando in time to confront me and Steven just after ten?”

  “Yes,” Flipper answered. “And if he’s our guy, he would’ve been outside this window while you were still here, honey.”

  “Oh, God.”

  The chicken sandwich she’d eaten during the drive back to Gulf Shore threatened to reappear, and Flipper hugged her close.

  “Thank God Jo recommended adding window locks after all this mess started,” he said. “Remind me to give her a big sloppy kiss when she gets here.”

  “You must like to live dangerously, man,” Scott joked.

  Flipper laughed but it sounded strained, while Tara barely managed a weak smile.

  *

  The crime scene technician who arrived with Jo couldn’t find any usable fingerprints on or around the window, or any other evidence, for that matter.

  “This is really pissing me off,” Jo fumed. “But at least we’ve eliminated a suspect for the attempted burglary. The guy watching Larry Clybourne confirmed he hasn’t left Orlando in the three days he’s been under surveillance.”

  “Any word on whether Childers has admitted to any of the crimes connected to Gulf Shore?” Flipper asked.

  “He swears he had nothing to do with the threatening letters or the parking lot shooting.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “He’s a scum and a lying sack of shit. So no, I don’t. But so far we haven’t tied him to anything except the attack outside Tara’s condo.”

  “You’ll nail his ass to the jailhouse door. It’s only a matter of time.”

  Jo shrugged. “I wish I was as confident as you are. Something’s just not right. Childers is one of the dullest knives in the drawer. He proved that this morning when he assaulted Christianson in front of credible witnesses. So why isn’t there a trail of evidence a mile wide linking Childers to Gulf Shore? We can’t even establish that he’s ever been here.”

  “Well, as far as I’m concerned, it’s over.” Flipper turned to his bodyguard. “Scott, my man, it’s been fun, but tomorrow morning I’ll ask my bosses to end your detail once and for all. You’ve done a great job, but it’s past time to put this nastiness behind us.”

  The bodyguard shook his head. “Just so you know, I’ll fight your request.”

  “I’m with Scott.” Jo held up her hand before Flipper could protest. “You’ll just have to deal with it until I wrap up this case and put a bow on it. Kelsey would have my head if anything happened to you.”

  “And what about you, detective?”

  She speared him with a look that would’ve intimidated anyone who didn’t know her well.

  “C’mon,” he wheedled, “You know you love me. Admit it.”

  To his surprise, her expression softened. “I’m asking you as a friend not to do anything foolish. And you’ve got a woman who’s counting on you to stay safe and help protect her. Don’t break our hearts, Flipper.”

  He glanced over to see the plea in Tara’s eyes. Only a fool would disappoint the ones he loved for the sake of his stubborn pride.

  “All right. You guys win.”

  *

  Tara put her condo on the market a few days later and immediately attracted a slew of potential buyers. That didn’t surprise her, considering the high occupancy rate at the complex. The place was popular among yuppies with more money than fiscal sense. She hadn’t wanted to live there, but Steven had convinced her it was vital for his image as an up-and-coming financial adviser.

  What a joke that had turned out to be.

  Luckily, the snob factor worked in her favor as several potential buyers waged a bidding war over her unit, and she ended up getting even more than her original asking price.

  The quick sale more than filled her quota of excitement for the time being, so Tara was thankful that life fell into a somewhat normal routine while she waited for the deal to close. The aquarium received no new threats, which Flipper pointed out every time the subject of bodyguards came up. But Scott stayed on, which at least allowed Tara to sleep at night.

  While Jo’s investigation continued, she was forced to admit she’d hit a concrete wall. No new evidence surfaced to justify any arrests for the worst of the letters or the potshots taken at Flipper. Tara knew it was naïve to think whoever threatened the aquarium had given up and gone away, but maybe the publicity had sent the guilty party underground. Even the detective was teetering toward cautious optimism. For Jo, that was a huge concession, although she warned everyone not to let down their guard.

  Tara dedicated much of her free time to making the cottage into her home. She and Flipper agreed not to spend a lot of money redecorating the place, but Tara brightened up the interior with new throw rugs, lamps, bath linens, and slip covers for his living room couch and chairs. Outside, she spent a long day on her knees planting pink and purple impatiens, and Flipper helped her with a couple of hanging baskets of pansies and petunias.

  When the condo sale finally closed, she halved the proceeds with Steven and looked forward to closing that chapter. He was so ecstatic about having enough money to upgrade his living conditions that he lifted her off the ground in a crushing hug after they signed the papers.

  “Let me buy you a drink to celebrate,” he offered after she squirmed out of his embrace.

  Tara shook her head. “That’s not a good idea.”

  “Oh, c’mon. For old time’s sake.”

  “That’s something you do when you have fond memories of the past.”

  “It wasn’t all bad, was it?”

  “No, but there’s not enough good to outweigh the bitter disappointments. I’m really and truly happy now. That’s what I’m focusing on.”

  He blinked, and she was surprised to see that his eyes were moist.

  “So this is goodbye, then?”

  She nodded. “Take care, Steven. I hope you find what you’re looking for someday.”

  The condo’s new owners also ended up buying nearly all the furniture except for the bedroom set. Flipper balked at keeping the bed she’d shared with Steven until Tara pointed out that she and Flipper had spent their first night together in it.

  Now, they stood perusing his—make it their—newly redecorated bedroom in the cottage.

  “How do you like it?” she asked.

  “It looks a hundred times better than the junk the landlady had in here. There’s one thing that bed needs to improve it, though.”

  “I have a nicer bedspread, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Nope.”

  She squeaked in surprise when he swept her off her feet and deposited her on the mattress.

  “There, that’s more like it. If you’d get naked for me, it would be perfect.”

  Her lips curved into a smile as she shimmied out of her slack
s. Next, she unbuttoned her blouse and tossed it aside. Her nipples, shielded by her black satin boudoir bra, pebbled under his scrutiny. She slid down the straps and flashed what she hoped was a come-hither look.

  “Before I go any further, mister, you need to show me some skin.”

  He raised his eyebrows and yanked off his T-shirt. “Anything else?”

  “How about your jeans?”

  He shucked them, along with his socks. “Your turn.”

  Reaching back to unhook her bra, she peeled it off and flung it to him. He snagged it out of the air, buried his nose in the fabric, and inhaled.

  “It’s still warm. And it smells like you.”

  She nearly shattered then and there. Eager to have him inside her, she stretched out on the bed and patted the mattress.

  “Lose the briefs and come over here.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say.”

  Once he lay beside her, Tara further aroused them both by cupping the heavy weight of his desire and circling the velvety head with feather-light strokes. He shifted on top of her and seemed intent on sampling every inch of her fragrant skin. Finally, his lips brushed across her panties a heartbeat before the revealing scrap of lace joined her other clothing on the floor.

  Flipper took her up and over the peak and, before she could catch her breath, he’d rolled on a condom and slid inside her. Together, they began another ascent.

  Just as they made it to the crest, Flipper asked in a strained voice, “Will you marry me?”

  “What?” The white noise in her ears made it difficult to hear.

  “Marry me,” he managed.

  “Oh. Oooooh. Y-yes! Yes! Yes!”

  And then she couldn’t speak, could do nothing but hold on as a wave of intense pleasure all but knocked the breath out of her.

  Chapter 34

  Flipper tried not to crush Tara as he collapsed on top of her. He couldn’t remember ever feeling more exhausted, more satisfied, and more confused after making love. Had Tara really agreed to marry him? Or maybe she’d been reacting to an orgasm that appeared to have rendered her speechless and perhaps comatose. Her eyes were closed, and she lay still except for her heaving chest.