LIVE Ammo (Sunshine State Mystery Series Book 2)

by Lynda Fitzgerald

  They chose to eat outside. Rand held her chair and sat across from her. It was warm in the sun but made bearable by the breeze off the water. She could hear the slap of waves against the dock, the cries of birds. A plane soared overhead, too high to hear, leaving a stripe of white against the intense blue sky. Conversations were low around them. Allie was painfully aware of the man sitting across the table. When she looked up, Rand was watching her. In confusion, she picked up her menu.

  After they placed their orders, he leaned slightly toward her, his arms on the table. There was a curious intimacy in the position, as if they were the only two people in the room. She was suddenly aware that Rand Arbutten had considerable charm when he chose to use it. It frightened her a little.

  “Like it?” he asked, his gaze boring into hers.

  Allie laughed nervously. “Very much. I’ve never been here before.”

  “Good,” he said. Then, he laughed softly. “I’m glad. It’s always nice to introduce someone to something she’s never experienced before.”

  Allie felt the fine hairs all over her body snap to attention, and she caught her breath. This was no lost little boy she was dealing with here. This was a man with a capital M. She felt a shiver go through her at the thought.

  Their lunch came at that exact moment, and Allie thanked the gods for the rescue. What was happening with her body? In all her thirty years, she had never reacted this way to anyone. She felt like every nerve ending was on fire. The man’s charisma should be registered as a lethal weapon. Just the brush of his hand as they both reached for the salt at the same moment almost sent her over the edge.

  After that, she kept her hands close to her plate, but she couldn’t make her eyes behave. They studied his skin. It had that undertone of olive, which would account for his quick tan. His hands were square, his fingers long and tapered. His arms rested on the table. She had seen him in a T-shirt, so she knew what was under that suit and tie. His shoulders were like his father’s, broad and straight. She studied the shape of his jaw, his cheekbones, strong and square. As her gaze traveled up his face, she met his eyes. They were smiling.

  “How’s your food?” he asked.

  Allie looked down at her plate. She had eaten half of it, and she didn’t remember taking a single bite. “Good. Excellent.” She tried to think of something else to say. “Delicious.”

  He laughed again, that low sound of amusement in his throat. “That’s a pretty strong testimonial. I’d say we’ll have to come here again.”

  “But you’ll be leaving,” Allie blurted out. Then, she was mortified. She wasn’t a New York sophisticate, but she usually wasn’t this gauche.

  “What’s fifty miles of good road?”

  She looked up, startled. “That’s from—”

  “Pride and Prejudice. Yes, I know. I’ve always been a sucker for Jane Austen.” He laughed at her expression. “I know. Most men who read her are either professors of English lit or gay.” He picked up his water glass and took a sip, looking at her over the rim. “I’m neither, in case you’re interested.”

  Allie felt her face flush. She hadn’t felt so embarrassed since her thirteen-year-old brother caught Allie and Sheryl skinny-dipping and told her parents on them. She knew she had to put some distance between Rand and her. Right now.

  “I’m going to see your grandmother this afternoon,” she said abruptly.

  The change in him was instantaneous. He sat back in his chair, stiff suddenly. “I know. Myrna told me.”

  “I have a lot of questions to ask her. I know you told me she’s a liar, but,” she shrugged, “I have to ask.”

  He stared down at his plate. When he looked up, his expression seemed guarded. “Okay if I tag along with you?”

  Allie was stunned. Of all the things she had expected him to say, this wasn’t it. “I could call and ask. I don’t know if she’d be less or more willing to talk if you’re there.”

  She excused herself to make the call. When she came back, the table was cleared and the check paid. He raised his eyebrows.

  “She said she’d love to see you. I’ll need to get my car.”

  “No problem. I can follow you.”

  Chapter 18

  The place hadn’t gotten any less depressing overnight. Judging from Rand’s reaction as he stepped out of his car, he’d never been there before. He looked around as they made their way to the dayroom, dismay clear on his face. He flinched when he saw his grandmother sitting across the room, dressed in a too-tight dress and broken down bedroom shoes. Janet’s face brightened when she saw the bag in Allie’s hand, and it radiated joy when Rand walked in behind her.

  “Girls,” she called out to the women clustered around her, “this here’s my grandbaby. He’s the single good thing that girl of mine ever did.”

  Rand looked embarrassed and not particularly pleased by her words. The women reached out one by one to shake his hand as Janet belted out the introductions. “Lucy, this is Rand. He’s a big important lawyer in Orlando. Mary, Alice. Frankie.”

  Finally, she was done. She snatched the bag out of Allie’s hand. “You wait over there for me,” she said, gesturing toward the TV area, “I’m going to put this in my room.”

  Allie led Rand to the other side of the dayroom. His eyes missed none of it. The curling linoleum. The water damage. He sat on the edge of a chair as if he feared contamination. She felt sorry for him, but she was also glad he was seeing where his mother had stuck his grandmother when she was too ill to do anything about it. She wondered if he knew about that and that his father had been paying for it all along. She suspected he didn’t.

  Janet was gone for a good five minutes. When she returned, her smile was a few watts brighter. She wheeled her chair toward them as if it were a racecar, stopping at the last minute.

  “That’s better,” she said, winking at Allie. She turned to Rand. “Damn, you’ve gotten handsome. You have the look of your father about you. I’ll bet this little filly can’t keep her hands off you,” she said, nudging Allie.

  Allie blushed scarlet, probably because there was an element of truth in it.

  Rand wasn’t amused. “Allie isn’t my girlfriend,” he said, his voice cool. “She’s a reporter.”

  “Well, hell, boy, I know that. Doesn’t mean her private parts are dead, though, does it?”

  Allie couldn’t suppress a smile, partly because Rand was so obviously uncomfortable. But she had a job to do. She pulled her notepad and a pen out of her purse. “Mrs. French—”

  “That’s Frenchie to you. Did you forget? Want me to tell you how I got that nickname?”

  “No,” Allie said quickly. “No, I want to talk to you about your daughter.”

  “So you said, but I want to talk to my grandbaby here first.” She hadn’t taken her eyes off Rand the entire time she’d been speaking. It was like she couldn’t get enough of looking at him.

  “You still living in Orlando?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Got a wife?”

  Rand looked startled. “No.”

  “Steady girlfriend?”

  He looked irritated, but he shook his head.

  Janet nudged Allie again. “There you go, girl. What you waiting for?”

  Allie burst out laughing. She regretted it the minute she did it, but it was so much fun to see him uncomfortable for a change. Rand shot her a dirty look and turned back to Janet. “I told you—”

  “Well, hell,” Janet said, poking his leg with her finger, “don’t tell me you’ve turned out to be a stuffed shirt.” She turned to Allie. “Is he?”

  Allie was still smiling. “Not that I’ve noticed.”

  Janet sighed her satisfaction. “Well, that’s good. Ain’t nothing to sour a man faster than false pride. So, you’re a lawyer,” she said, turning back to Rand.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said stiffly.

  Janet tilted her head coquettishly. “Ma’am,” she repeated. “I kinda like the sound of that. Grandma would be bett
er,” she said, turning to Allie. “You know I’ve never heard my grandbaby here call me Grandma?”

  Allie saw Rand stiffen more. She knew she would lose him if she didn’t take control of the conversation. She sat forward slightly on the chair. “Mrs.—Frenchie,” she corrected herself before Janet could do it, “I wanted to ask you about your daughter’s relationship with Cord Arbutten. Did you see enough of her to be able to answer some questions about that?”

  Janet tore her eyes away from Rand long enough to grimace. “Saw more of her than I wanted, I can tell you that. Cord made her visit once a month like clockwork. He said it was the least she could do. More like the woman’s curse, I always thought. She’d come in here once a month flaunting her airs, making everyone feel ashamed that they’d come to this end and letting them know that she was better than they was. I know she was your mama,” she said, turning to Rand, “but she was real unkind to folks.”

  A muscle in Rand’s jaw worked, but he said nothing.

  Janet turned back to Allie. “Cord comes about once a week. He always brings a basket of goodies for the ladies.” She smiled at the thought. “He brings silly useless things like bath bubbles and lipstick and chocolate. And sometimes, he slips a special little present into the bottom for me. Oh, we have a good time with those baskets.”

  Allie could see that Rand’s face muscles were getting quite a workout. “Did you know much about his relationship with his wife?”

  Janet made an unladylike sound. “She tricked him into marriage. You know that?” she asked, turning to Rand.

  He ignored her.

  “She set her cap for him before he ever knew she existed. She’d tell me how she was going to get him. She’d show up where he was going to be. He was in the Marines back then,” she said, looking from Allie to Rand. “Those boys used to come home on leave horny as hell, and Jean always dressed up in something low and tight. She figured he’d notice her eventually, and he did. But it didn’t go any further than the backseat, so she decided she was going to have to take matters in her own hands. She got some of those rubber things they used, and I caught her in the bathroom poking holes in them—”

  Rand growled low in his throat. “This is bullshit,” he said, starting to stand.

  Allie placed a hand on his arm, and he sat back down. For the moment. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold him there.

  “So she got pregnant, and they got married,” she prompted.

  “And that was probably the last piece of ass he got out of her,” Janet said smugly. “She always pretended to like it when she was young, but when push come to shove, she was a prissy little bitch.”

  This time, Allie could do nothing. Rand exploded to his feet. “Who in the hell are you to talk about her like that?” he hissed. “The woman is dead, for Christ sake. What kind of a mother are you that you’d talk about your dead daughter like that.”

  “What kind?” Janet said, pushing herself to her feet. “I’ll tell you what kind. I’m the kind who knew her better than anyone alive. I’m the kind that was shoved off into this hellhole as soon as I was too sick to stop her. I’m the kind whose house was sold up out from under her while I was in the hospital. You know that? Your precious mama sold my house. Then, when the hospital let me go, she told me I could come here, or I could go out on the streets.” She wobbled and caught the back of a chair for support. “You have the look of your daddy, but you don’t have a lick of his sense. That man is the only reason I have food in my mouth. Your mama didn’t care if I starved to death. Your daddy saved me. He put up with your mama lying to you all those years because he didn’t want to hurt you. She poisoned your mind against him, and all he did was love you. He’s a rock, your daddy,” she said, grabbing hold of his arm.

  He shook her off. “You’re a goddamn liar,” he said, turning on his heel and stalking away.

  Janet sank back in her chair, her face collapsing in grief. “He’s a rock,” she whispered, “and you could be just like him if she hadn’t ruined you.”

  Allie left the nursing home an hour later, considerably shaken. She had held Janet French while she cried out her loss. The woman must have stored up tears for a decade, and they all poured out. She had said much more while she was crying, but none of it had been intelligible, and Allie didn’t have the heart to push her. It was bad enough to be stuck in that horrible place with no hope of rescue and called names by the grandson she loved above all else, except maybe Cord. And she did love Rand. Allie had no doubt of that. Despite his neglect, despite his calling her a liar, she loved him. Maybe it was just the idea of what he represented—her grandson—that she loved. But it didn’t matter. The woman was devastated.

  As Allie climbed in the Jeep, she remembered how Janet had jumped to her feet. She had assumed the woman couldn’t walk. Now that she knew she could, that opened a whole other can of worms. Janet French clearly hated her daughter. Enough to kill her? Cord would protect Janet. She might have wondered if he would have protected Rand or Sidney if they had done it, but there was not a doubt in her mind that he would protect Janet French with all the power of his office and even with his life, if necessary. He was that kind of man.

  But Rand wasn’t. He had no deep and abiding love or respect for his grandmother. He had entered the house just seconds after the shot was fired. There was no way Cord could have concealed Janet that quickly, and Allie was certain she couldn’t have gotten away from the house under her own steam. She was so distracted with what she’d learned that she almost sideswiped a parked car. As she pulled on to US 1, she vowed to pay more attention, but within seconds, she was lost in thought again. A blaring horn as she veered into the next lane made her decision for her. She would have to stop at the newspaper and put her thoughts down on paper so she could get them out of her head.

  She was there for hours. She heard sounds of people leaving for the day. She saw Myrna stick her head into the room and watch Allie for a while before shaking her head and walking away. At one point, she thought she saw Rand standing in the doorway out of her peripheral vision. Or maybe she imagined it. She didn’t look up. She didn’t want to talk to Rand Arbutten just now.

  Finally, she had it all in the computer, what she’d learned from Janet, Rand’s reaction. She sat back in her desk chair, feeling exhaustion course through her. Her head felt light, as if she hadn’t eaten for days. Her arms and legs felt leaden. Emotional exhaustion. She remembered it well from her years in Brussels.

  Wearily, she gathered her things and dumped them unceremoniously in her briefcase. She could sort it all out later. She had no appointments tomorrow. Maybe she’d take the day off. Lie up on the roof deck and soak up the sun and silence and the sound of the ocean. Then, she remembered what Myrna had predicted would happen to her peaceful little haven soon and cursed her for putting the thoughts in her mind.

  A few people were still working at their desks. Allie bade them goodnight as she left. No light showed in Rand’s office, so Allie assumed he was gone for the day.

  She was stunned to realize it was full night when she emerged from the building. She looked at her watch. Eight-thirty.

  She climbed into the Jeep and hoisted her briefcase onto the passenger seat. She rolled her head on her neck. Steel rods had replaced the muscles she’d had there earlier. She clicked her seatbelt and turned the key in the ignition.

  She saw the dark sedan when it pulled out behind her, but she was too tired to care if someone wearing an ugly mask and fright wig followed her home. Rand, Sidney, or whoever the hell it was could make all the hand gestures he wanted. She had a few of her own for him.

  She accelerated when she reached 520. Traffic was light, so she could track the dark sedan’s progress as it kept its steady pace behind her. As she crested the top of the second bridge, she thought she saw the glint of light on metal. Then, her front tire blew, and the Jeep spun out of control.

  The tail of the Jeep grazed the retaining wall, and it spun the vehicle full circle. Allie
heard the squeal of brakes and knew they were hers, but she didn’t remember stepping on the brake pedal. She lost contact with the steering wheel as she was knocked sideways. She saw the bridge wall coming toward her as the Jeep came back around, and all she could think was this was how Joe must had felt, the horror of knowing you’d die in mere seconds. The only thing that flashed before her eyes was a vision of her aunt.

  At the last instant, she was able to grab hold of the Jeep’s wheel and spin it with all her strength. The Jeep came around again, and she heard a hideous wrenching of metal as the back of the Jeep made contact with the bridge. Allie was knocked into the door with a force that rattled her teeth. The airbag exploded toward her, and she felt like she was being suffocated. She fought against it. Then, it collapsed. The Jeep shuddered violently. Then, it stopped.

  The silence seemed total. It took Allie a minute to realize she was still alive. In her rearview mirror, she saw the dark sedan pull up beside her and slow to a stop. As it did, the passenger window slid down slowly. The same hideous mask, the same purple fright wig. Then, she saw another glint of light on metal. She blinked her eyes and realized that, this time, he was aiming a real gun at her. She waited for the explosion that would end her life, but it didn’t come. Other people had seen the accident, and they were pulling off the road. As the first ones started to run toward the Jeep, the ghoul rolled back up his window and sped away.

  Then, it was all confusion. Her driver’s side door was wrenched open. “Don’t move her,” she heard someone say. The Jeep was still partially blocking the road. Allie was afraid someone would come over the rise and hit her. She tried to reach her purse for her cell phone, but she couldn’t move. For a moment, she feared she was paralyzed, but then she realized it was the seatbelt. She was still wearing the seatbelt.