Flaw-Abiding Citizen (The Worst Detective Ever Book 6)

by Christy Barritt

  The house shook again, and the wind outside howled.

  I shivered.

  The storm was getting worse.

  These houses were built to withstand storms like this, right? I mean, no doubt the place had survived uncountable storms. But if that was the case, why was it unoccupied now? Had it been . . . condemned? Maybe during Irene?

  I needed to move faster. I pulled my legs up onto the seat of the chair. That helped give me the leverage I needed to thrust my body upward and work my binds off the top of the chair.

  In the blink of an eye, I shot up, the ropes still around my midsection. The chair tumbled behind me.

  I landed on the floor with a thud.

  An ache pulsed through my shoulder on impact.

  But I was free. Free!

  I pulled myself to my feet, and the rope dropped from around me.

  That had gone better than I thought . . . other than my shoulder and a total lack of grace.

  I rolled my arm back, trying to ease the pain. The action didn’t help, but I could push through my discomfort. I had no other choice.

  I darted to the door and grabbed the handle.

  I still had fifteen minutes to the last ferry. If I ran, maybe I could make it.

  It was locked.

  Of course.

  What had I expected?

  I gave it a few more shoves and tugs, but it didn’t budge. I needed to think of another way to open it.

  Or another way to get out.

  With that thought, I rushed toward the window. Just as I reached it, something slammed into the glass.

  I gasped and jumped back.

  A branch. It was just a branch that had been caught in the wind.

  I stared out the panes there, and my heart sank.

  The storm was raging worse than I thought. Water already covered the ground. I couldn’t tell how deep it was. I only knew that the ocean and sound surrounding the island had invaded the land and appeared to be winning the battle. I felt like I was in a disaster flick.

  This wasn’t good, to say the least. Most disaster flicks weren’t.

  I reached for my phone, but of course Currie had taken it. Probably when he’d put that bag over my head. It didn’t matter anyway. The towers were down, I reminded myself.

  So now I was here without a phone. No one knew where I was. Zane had left me.

  Would this be how it all ended? Quite possibly.

  At least I was going to go out in an ending worthy of Hollywood.

  I shook my head. No, I couldn’t think that. I wasn’t going to go down this easily. Not if I could help it.

  I wiggled the window. To my surprise, it opened. A gust of wind rushed inside, electrifying my hair and wetting my face.

  It was nasty out there. More than nasty. Even the air seemed to be running in fear.

  I peered out again, farther this time, and my stomach sank.

  It was a straight drop down. Three stories. Well, two, but the stilts elevating the house made it more like three.

  I probably wouldn’t survive a fall out of here, and there was nothing to grab ahold of to lessen the impact. Just by looking at it, I could tell the rope that had been wrapped around me wasn’t long enough to extend to the ground. Besides, there was nothing to tie it to. The doorknob was the only possibility, but it was all the way across the room.

  Also, there was some kind of generator down there, raised high on stilts just like any kind of HVAC unit would be in this area. Landing on that would not increase my chances of survival. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

  I needed a plan B.

  I pulled my head back in, my face and hair drenched. I wiped away the moisture with my hands, pulled my hair back into a bun, and glanced around the room again.

  A magical way out didn’t suddenly appear, nor did I have a light-bulb moment, a ghost from the past stop by to help me, or a genie in a bottle.

  Maybe I could just wait this out. The storm wouldn’t last forever. And when it was done, the water would eventually recede.

  How long did eventually last though?

  Certainly, as soon as the wind died down, someone would come around to check on people.

  Except that everyone was supposed to have been evacuated.

  This was looking worse and worse by the minute.

  I shouldn’t have come here. I should have told Jackson, at least. I mean, I had tried to tell him, but then my phone had died and I wasn’t sure if he’d heard me before we got disconnected.

  Except what if Jackson worked for the Barracudas? No, I couldn’t believe that. I wouldn’t.

  And it was too late to undo any of my mistakes now. I had no one to depend on but me.

  I tried the door again.

  Looked out the window again.

  Tried to pick the lock on the door using a splinter of wood that broke off the chair.

  Nothing worked.

  I knocked my forehead into the wall.

  I didn’t want to wait this out. So much could still go wrong.

  I could be stuck here for days with no food, no water, no bathroom.

  The flood waters could compromise the safety of the house. A tree could fall on the roof. Debris could jeopardize the structure.

  I sat on the floor and pulled my knees to my chest, burying my head into my arms.

  I had to stay calm. To think this through. To keep a clear head.

  But it was so hard.

  Where was Leonard when I needed him? Or my super-stalker fan club?

  They’d probably been smart enough to get off the island. Like Zane had been. Without me.

  I would deal with those emotions later.

  Just give it some time, Joey. Just give it time.

  I raised my head and drew in a deep breath.

  That was what I would do. I glanced at my watch, and my stomach sank.

  I’d missed the last ferry. Whatever happened, I was stuck here on this island for the duration of the storm.

  But before I could fully comprehend that thought, I smelled smoke.

  I ran to the window.

  The backup generator was on fire.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Oh, no, no, no.

  No, no, no.

  How could this be happening? You couldn’t have a flood and a fire at the same time. Right?

  Obviously, you could.

  I darted from the window back to the door. In a last-ditch effort, I rattled it. Rammed into it. Prayed over it.

  Nothing happened.

  I sprinted back to the window and peered out. The generator was still on fire. I watched as the flames jumped from the generator to the wall of the house.

  My stomach sank.

  This was getting worse by the minute. Had I mentioned that?

  Tears wanted to push their way out, but I wouldn’t let them escape.

  I had to use all my energy to figure out how to get out of here.

  Now.

  I had no idea how much time I had before this place was completely destroyed, but I couldn’t take any chances.

  What could I do?

  I glanced around the room again—as if I hadn’t already glanced around it a million times.

  There was nothing in this room except this chair and the ropes that had held me in place.

  Anxiety tried to rise again.

  I stopped and stood in the center of the room. I was stronger and smarter than this. I could do it. I could get out of here.

  I went to the window yet again.

  The bottom half of the wall had gone up in flames.

  What was going on beneath me? Was the bottom floor of the house consumed? Would the fire come up through the floorboards and barbecue me like a pig at a luau?

  I could jump, I realized. I might break some bones, but at least I wouldn’t burn to death.

  I could attempt to rappel down the top half of the wall and then jump from there. That might help break my fall some.

  Unless I landed in the flames.

 
; I could try to get the hinges out of the door. But using my bare hands, it seemed like a futile task.

  I had no other options right now.

  I rushed toward the door. I pressed at the hinges. My nail broke, and blood pricked my skin.

  I sucked in a breath and put my finger in my mouth.

  This wasn’t going to work. I needed a nail or something to help me work the hinges out.

  I grabbed the chair and tried to use the leg, to wedge it into the hinge.

  It was no use. It wasn’t working.

  The tears came this time. Tears of desperation.

  I really had no choice but to jump out unless I wanted the flames to devour me.

  I went to the window.

  A ferocious wind howled inside, and a smattering of rain wet my cheeks.

  As I stared at the sheer height of the house, my stomach dropped.

  I could do this. I had no choice.

  With shaky limbs, I stuck one leg out.

  You can do this. You can do this.

  Just as I was about to pull my other leg out and brace myself for the jump, I heard the door rattle.

  I froze. Was it Currie coming back to finish me off? If so, would I be better off jumping?

  That was the question. And I only had a split second to make my choice.

  I held my breath, unable to move. And I hoped I didn’t regret it, but there was a good chance I would. Because I was taking my gamble and seeing who had shown up.

  The door flew open.

  I sucked in a quick breath.

  My dad stood there.

  My dad.

  He wore a ratty old T-shirt from a fishing tournament, khaki shorts, and a blue baseball cap.

  I toppled a minute before catching myself.

  “Dad?”

  “Joey . . .” It was one word but loaded with emotion. Love. Concern. Urgency.

  “Come on! We need to get you out of here.”

  I climbed from the window and rushed toward him. Were my eyes deceiving me? Were these the delusions of someone facing death?

  I wasn’t sure.

  But as I reached him and he pulled me into his arms, I saw his eyes.

  This was my dad. He was really here.

  I squeezed as hard as I could. He still smelled like Old Spice and Ivory soap. I’d missed those smells.

  “You’re alive,” I whispered.

  He squeezed me back like only a dad could do.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” I said.

  “Me too, Joey. Me too.”

  “I’m sorry about our last conversation,” I rushed, remembering it with absolute clarity. I hadn’t been able to forget it. My words had kept me up at night, even.

  I don’t need you. I’m fine on my own. You’re just jealous because I have everything and you don’t.

  Our hug didn’t last nearly long enough. He pulled away, and his taut muscles signaled that we were still in danger.

  “We need to catch up later,” he murmured. “We don’t have much time.”

  I nodded, tears streaming down my face. Tears of joy and surprise and fear. I wiped them away as my dad took my hand and led me down the stairs.

  Flames licked at the walls, and as I looked at the first floor, I saw that water had invaded the house.

  How were we going to get out of here alive?

  I had no idea.

  My feet hit the water at the bottom. We sloshed through the brown liquid, filled with seaweed and garbage that had been washed in with the tide.

  Dad opened the front door, and more water poured in. As soon as I stepped toward the outside, a strong wind tried to push me back. Rain hit my face, feeling like cold nails raining down from the sky.

  Just as Dad pulled me onto the porch, a whoosh sounded. Flames engulfed the wall beside us.

  This whole place was going to collapse at any minute, wasn’t it?

  We rushed down the steps. Water climbed up to my waist as my feet hit the ground.

  A tremor of fear washed over me.

  This was bad. Really bad. Worse than I could have imagined. It felt like trying to swim in the ocean, with an incredibly strong undertow.

  “We need to get to higher ground,” Dad yelled.

  I nodded. My wet hair clung to my face, making it hard to see. Rain continued to pelt my skin. The sand beneath me felt like suction cups that tried to prevent me from moving.

  Yet, in all that craziness, I could still feel the heat from the fire blazing only feet away.

  As the wind blew again, I looked up.

  A fiery timber flew off the side of the house.

  The wind carried it through the air . . . headed right toward us.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Dad pulled me out of the way just as the burning wood hit the water beside me. The board sizzled in defeat as the ocean claimed it.

  “This way,” Dad shouted over the roar of the wind.

  I had no choice but to follow. To be pulled.

  By my dad.

  I still couldn’t believe it.

  But I’d delight in that later. I had so many questions for him. Those would have to wait until later also. Survival had to be our first priority.

  The current around us tugged at us and made me feel like I was wading in the ocean. Rain drenched me. The wind slapped against my skin.

  “This part might be tricky,” Dad shouted.

  I looked ahead, through the blinding rain. I spotted an area of rushing water—rushing even more so than that surrounding us now. There must be a ditch or something that caused the water to form a little rip current of sorts.

  “Can’t we go around?” I shouted.

  He looked back at me while still moving forward. “It’s even deeper over there. Once we get past this area, we can cross closer to the road.”

  I was going to have to trust him on this.

  The rain and wind continued to batter us. But as long as I held on to my dad’s hand, I couldn’t help but think everything would be okay.

  My dad took the first step into the rushing water. He tested his footing before pulling me forward.

  As soon as I hit the current, I felt like I’d been swept into the jet of an unheated hot tub. The sea rushed around me, desperately trying to abduct me. It was like Neptune himself had a vendetta against me and would make me pay for all my many mistakes.

  I tried to hold tightly to my dad’s hand, but my fingers were slippery. Too slippery. I could feel myself losing grip.

  “Dad!”

  “Joey!” Worry stained his features.

  The stream of water began pulling me into the ocean.

  I tried to scream but couldn’t. Water filled my mouth.

  I blinked against the water washing into my eyes. Saw my dad reaching for me.

  But it was too late.

  I was going to die in this storm, wasn’t I?

  Just as the thought entered my head, something hit my hand.

  A wooden post!

  It was probably part of a pier or a deck. I had no idea. But I grabbed it like a lifeline.

  My fingers almost slipped. The water pulled so hard, so fiercely.

  But I was even more fierce.

  I wrapped my hands around the splintered wood and held on for dear life.

  But the water continued to tug at me, to try and suck me into its vortex.

  “Joey, hang on!” My dad slowly moved toward me.

  There was no way he’d get to me without getting into this current himself. I didn’t want him to do that. We hadn’t come this far to both die.

  “Grab this!” someone shouted.

  I glanced over. Leonard stood at the edge of the current. He held a fishing rod, and the end of it was just within my grasp.

  But could I trust him?

  The water continued to pull at me, and my fingers slipped another inch.

  Did I have any other choice?

  I had to make a quick decision. I really hoped this didn’t get me killed.

  I grabbed t
he pole.

  I held my breath and waited.

  To my surprise, Leonard pulled me in. My dad helped him. I didn’t dare let go of the pole.

  Finally, my feet felt the ground beneath me. Dad pulled me the rest of the way out of the current before throwing his arms around me.

  “This way!” Leonard shouted.

  I followed him around the burning house, headed in the opposite direction.

  A bridge there crossed one of the creeks surrounding the house. The water hadn’t taken it out yet.

  I sloshed through the water until I reached it. Using the railing, I pulled myself across. When I hit the other side, the water was only up to my knees and not nearly as strong. I paused for long enough to catch my breath.

  “You can go in that house over there.” Leonard pointed to a building in the distance, one that was three stories high and away from the road.

  And before I could say anything else, he was gone.

  “Who was he?” my dad shouted.

  “It’s a long story.”

  My dad took my arm, and we trudged through the water. Finally, we reached the house in the distance. As we climbed the wooden steps, we were able to pull ourselves out of the watery grave trying to consume us.

  I started to knock at the door, but my dad ushered me inside, forgoing formalities.

  “Hello?” he called.

  I scanned the house. The place was a rental. I’d seen the sign outside, and the inside confirmed it. It had the typical golden-colored wood trim. A brown leather couch, wicker table, seashell lamps.

  Whoever had been here renting had been smart, I realized. They’d evacuated like anyone with good sense would have.

  “We can ride out the rest of the storm here.” Dad shut the door. “I’ll start a fire.”

  I nodded and shivered.

  Since no one lived here full time, that meant there probably weren’t any clothes to change into, so I was going to have to wait this out in my wet clothes. The temperature outside had dropped, and my chill was deepening.

  A fire sounded perfect.

  I glanced at my dad. My dad. Suddenly, I didn’t care about being cold anymore.

  We had a lot to talk about.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  I grabbed a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around myself.