Dog Tags

by Heidi Glick

  Beth pointed to a pink neon sign. “Not Captain Hook’s?”

  Mark shrugged. “Already taken.”

  He parked the van.

  She reached for the door.

  He leaned toward her, touched her left forearm, and took the opportunity to enjoy her floral fragrance. “Wait.”

  She furrowed her brows but released her door handle.

  Using his ramp, he got out of the van, wheeled to her door, and opened it for her.

  She tilted her head. “Thanks? I think.”

  Good, he’d thrown her off guard a bit. “Did Chris ever tell you about this place?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “I think you’ll like it here.” Mark led her inside. “This place was built in 1950.” Did she care? He ran his hand through his hair. No more trivia.

  Captain Hank greeted him. A live parrot adorned his captain’s uniform.

  “Welcome to Hank’s. Enjoy the seafood,” the bird squawked.

  She turned toward Mark then chuckled. Another good sign. Perfect pink lips framed her stunning smile.

  Mark looked at Hank. “Any room out back?”

  “Are you kidding? For an old friend, I’d always make room. In fact, I’ll make sure you get the best seat in the house.”

  “Thanks, Hank.” He followed his friend outside to the back deck. Beth walked behind them.

  Hank pointed to a table in the corner. “This all right for you?”

  “Yes, thanks.” Mark wheeled toward a chair and pulled one out for Beth.

  She began to sit down, then stood and shoved the other chair out of the way before Hank could do so, allowing Mark to scoot his wheelchair next to the table.

  Not expected. Now he was off guard.

  Hank handed them menus. “I’ll leave you alone for a while so you can look over the selection.” He winked at Mark. “Take your time.”

  Good old Hank. Quite the matchmaker.

  Beth gripped her menu and perused it.

  Mark stuck his hand on it and peeked over the top. “Look down.”

  Beth scrunched her face. “What?”

  He pointed toward the deck. “Under the table. C’mon. Look down.”

  She cast him a puzzled look then obeyed.

  Mark wheeled back a foot then gazed at the small porthole in the deck beneath their table.

  “You can see the water below.” She smiled, and as best as he could tell, appeared to be having a good time. Mission accomplished.

  “That’s what he meant by the best seat in the house.” He pointed toward the deck railing. “And you have a good view of the waves from here.” Mark moved toward the table again.

  Beth scooted back to the table, looked at the menu, then set it down. She leaned her head on her hand. “So what do you suggest?”

  Could he be back in her good graces that easily?

  No one else was around. He’d arrived early on purpose to beat the evening crowd, even talked Hank into opening up a bit early. Waves crashed against the shore. An occasional gull chattered overhead. The flickering candle on the table released a pineapple scent. The perfect evening.

  A slight breeze tousled Beth’s hair. Her brown eyes sparkled.

  She waved her hand in front of him. “Mark?”

  “Huh? Oh, right.” He shifted his gaze from Beth to his menu. “You like seafood? If so, then I’d suggest the mahi-mahi. If not, the chicken is excellent.” He propped up his menu. Hopefully, she hadn’t seen his face turn red. If he was as old as she made him out to be, then why’d he feel as giddy as a teenager?

  Hank returned to take their orders.

  When he left, Beth leaned closer to Mark. “Thanks for the flowers. You didn’t sign the card, but I guessed they were from you. By the way, they’re lovely.”

  “Beth, I didn’t send you any flowers.”

  She reached into her purse and withdrew a note. “You mean this isn’t from you?”

  Mark snatched the note card.

  I tried to contact you earlier, but I don’t think you got my message. I hope we can still be friends.

  “I can see why you’d think it’s from me.” He made a mental note to give her flowers in the future then turned the card over. “No signature.”

  “Yeah. It’s typed from a florist. Not handwritten. So I don’t think it’s the Knight.”

  “Who else has tried to contact you, and more importantly, would be concerned about you remaining friends?”

  “I bet it’s from Antonio. He probably left me a message. I can check my answering machine when I get home.”

  “Maybe I need to have a chat with him.”

  “Whoa. Let me handle this. If he left me a message, I’ll call and ask about the flowers.”

  “What if he denies it?”

  “Either way, I’ll go to the principal and suggest that maybe the Knight sent it.” She sighed. “Guess that means a guard will have to escort me to my car again.”

  “I’m sorry you have to live like this, but I think it’s a good idea. I’m not going to relax until someone catches this guy.”

  They chit-chatted some more and reminisced about growing up in Beaumont. The talk reminded him of the invitation to spend Thanksgiving with her family. “Please forgive me. I’ve completely forgotten my manners. Thanks for the buckeyes. They were delicious. And also thanks for the dinner invitation. That was generous of you.”

  She leaned forward. “So you’re coming?”

  He nodded. Judging from the look on her face, his response appeared to be the correct one.

  “Good. I was hoping maybe you could go grocery shopping with me.”

  His stomach churned inside. As much as he wanted to enjoy the moment, how could he? Sharing Thanksgiving dinner with her meant interacting with the Martindales, something he’d avoided before. This was about to be an exercise in faith for him.

  Mark stared up at the sky. Well, God. He shifted his gaze to the ocean. You made all this. The oceans, the sky. I suppose you have my situation in Your hands, too. He sighed. Then why did his life feel as if it was careening out of control?

  ****

  Dinner ended, and Beth waved to Hank and the parrot as she and Mark strolled toward his van. Over dinner, Mark mentioned he’d found out about her working at the mall. Did he also know she wasn’t dating Antonio?

  As they left the restaurant parking lot and headed toward her place, they neared Fishy Business, off on the right. She pointed at the store. “Hey, the lights are on.”

  “Hmm. Tim and Bill should have left by now.”

  Dinner was good. Her seafood breath, not so much. Even if Mark didn’t notice, she minded. Beth shrugged and removed a stick of gum from her purse. “Maybe someone forgot to turn off the lights.”

  “Maybe.” He pulled into the parking lot. “Hope you don’t mind if I run inside and turn them off.”

  “Want me to come with you?”

  “Nah, it’ll only take a minute.”

  “OK.” She shoved the stick of gum in her mouth. Minty fresh. Much better.

  Mark exited the van and wheeled toward the back of the store.

  Beth glanced at her fingernails. They needed painting. Too bad she hadn’t noticed before. As she looked beyond them, a red object caught her attention. Sticking out from underneath her seat was a book. She pulled it out. So he carried his yearbook around, too. Odd. She opened it and stared at the signatures. Her insides rumbled but not from hunger. Her yearbook? How had Mark gotten his hands on this? She’d given it to Marisa. And he’d stopped by her place. How much did Mark know about her crush? She was about to find out.

  She glanced at the van clock. Mark had been gone for at least ten minutes. Maybe he stopped to use the restroom. Beth grabbed her yearbook and purse and jumped out of the van. She fixed her gaze on the bait store. He’d turned off the lights, but he’d need to leave them on if he was in the bathroom.

  She approached the store. “Mark? Hello?” Perhaps he’d gone up front. Even still, some lights should have bee
n on. Craning her head slightly, she peered around the side of building. “Mark?” She walked to the front and tried opening it. Locked. Beth headed around the side of the building and shifted her gaze toward the back of the shop. An overhead security light flickered on and off in the distance. “Hello? Mark?” She jogged closer.

  Mark lay on the ground, his wheelchair nearby. She ran to him. “Mark, are you OK? Mark?” Nothing. She crouched down, brushed his blond hair back against his forehead, and set the yearbook next to him. “Don’t die on me, too.” She willed back tears, attempting to remain calm.

  Antonio suspected Mark could walk. Maybe he tried, fell, and then blacked out. She studied his face. Mouth open. His face was bruised. Did he bump into an object as he fell? Or something worse? Chills ran down her spine. The scent of unfamiliar cologne approached. A hand covered her mouth.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” a male voice whispered. His hot breath blew against her. He yanked her purse from her hand. The yearbook clattered to the ground. “You don’t understand how bad I need the money, lady. Gotta get my fix.”

  She clawed at the man’s arms, kicked his legs, and attempted to scream. Not much use. He maintained his hold on her.

  Had she finally met up with the Knight? Dear God, help me.

  As the man tightened his grip, her gaze met Mark’s. He’d awakened and fumbled with his phone, probably dialing 9-1-1. Was she the only one who’d noticed? She shifted her gaze to avoid suspicion and continued to claw and kick.

  The man turned her around as he held onto her shoulders. He wore a black ski mask. She spit her gum in his face, hoping to throw him off guard.

  “I didn’t want to have to do this.” He drew back his fist and slugged her in the face.

  Her head hit the pavement with a dull thud. Her world spun, vision darkening.

  ****

  Mark refused to ride in the ambulance with Beth and chose to drive himself to the hospital. Though he downplayed his fall, once he arrived at the hospital, pain set in.

  Bill and Tim met him in the hospital lobby. Bill pushed Mark to the nurse’s desk and got him to check in with a doctor. He would have argued, but he was too tired to put up a fight. Tim walked away, presumably to find food.

  As soon as the doctor gave his OK and released him, Mark wheeled outside the treatment room and stared at Bill. “Where’s Beth? Is she OK? I want to see her.”

  “She’s fine. A small bruise and just a bump on the head. Kid’s resilient.”

  Just a bump? Bottom line, she was hurt. “I can’t protect her.”

  “You did what you could, considering.”

  “Considering I should be walking, but I’m not. Not good enough. Out of my way.” He pushed by Bill and rolled down the hospital corridor toward the nurse’s station.

  “Where you are going?” Bill asked. “I’m not a relationship expert, but you two need to talk.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Tim texted me. He’s sitting with her. Could be telling her corny jokes for all we know. You better rescue her.”

  He shook his head at the clever ploy on his friend’s part. Rescue her. He might not be able to fend off their attacker, but he could at least save her from Tim’s ill attempt at humor. Mark wheeled away from the nurse’s counter and down the hall, back the way he’d come. “Show me where they are.”

  Smiling, Bill maneuvered himself in front then led Mark to the other end of the hospital, but not before they made a slight detour to the gift shop along the way. Good thing they kept late hours and hadn’t closed yet.

  Bill waved as they approached the waiting room where Tim sat with Beth.

  Bill motioned to Tim. “I’m hungry. You?”

  “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah.” Tim stood and walked toward the cafeteria with Bill.

  Mark stowed the gift shop bag in the side pouch on his chair, moved toward Beth, and stared at the ground.

  She lifted her head and positioned her face in front of his. “If you have something you need to say to me, at least look at me or something.”

  “Beth, you don’t understand. You’re not going to want to hear what I have to say.”

  She grabbed one of his armrests. “Is this about the wheelchair? Antonio said he saw you walking.”

  He rubbed his face. “I was in a wheelchair for a while recovering from a shrapnel injury.”

  “From trying to save Chris. Right, I already know that.”

  “Yes, but I got better.” He pointed to his head. “Now my only injury is up here.” The sideways look on Beth’s face told him she still wasn’t following him. “I have what’s called conversion disorder. My condition has been brought on by post-traumatic stress. It’s psychosomatic.”

  Beth’s jaw dropped; her eyes widened as she released her hold on his armrest and sunk back into her chair. She sat in silence for a moment then turned to him. “So you really can walk?”

  He nodded. “My emotions cause bouts of temporary paralysis.”

  She bit her lip. “You mean emotions related to Chris and his death?”

  “It comes and goes with therapy. I’d had a bad episode right before you came. So when you first showed up, Bill and Tim were concerned I might get worse, but it’s the opposite really. I seem to be doing a little bit better.” He stared at her. “I’m sorry for not telling you about that. If I had completely worked through it all by now, then maybe I wouldn’t be in this thing, and I could have protected you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Mark folded his arms. “You are. But what if something had happened? I wouldn’t have been able to live with that.”

  “I’m OK, but I wish you would have trusted me. It’s not like I’m a kid. I’m a grown woman. And I don’t appreciate you keeping secrets from me. Though to be fair, you’re not the only one with secrets. I have to tell you something. Have to get it out. You won’t tell anyone else, will you?”

  He shook his head, unfolded his arms, and leaned toward her, all ears. Whatever it was, her secrets couldn’t be as dark as his.

  “Before your last tour, Chris came home.” She stared in the distance, as if drawing from her memories, then back at him. “I think it was around Thanksgiving.”

  “Yeah, I came home, too.”

  “I know.” A tear rolled down Beth’s check.

  He brushed it away.

  Her eyes watered more. “I wanted Chris to go the movies with me, but he said he was going with you. He saw you every day in the Marines, and it didn’t seem fair. I told him…I yelled at him…” She lowered her voice and choked back a sob. “I told Chris I didn’t want to see him again. He stormed out of my room, and that’s one of my last memories of my brother.” She covered her face with her hands.

  He touched her arm. “Chris knew you didn’t mean what you said.” Mark studied the pale, light green hospital walls. Was it him, or did it smell like death in there? He needed to get outside.

  She uncovered her face and rested her arms on the sides of her chair. “I was angry at the time. I shouldn’t have said it. And now I can’t take it back.”

  True, he couldn’t argue with that. “No, no you can’t. But you can ask God to forgive you.” Mark laid his hand atop of hers. “And you can forgive yourself.”

  She stared at the floor. “Not an easy thing to do.”

  What could he say? It wasn’t as if he had it all figured out. Better to change the subject to something that could give her comfort. “So, the police told me while I was being treated that the guy who attacked us and broke into Fishy Business was apprehended.”

  She straightened her posture. “How’d they catch him?”

  “I recognized him.”

  Beth leaned toward him. “You know him?”

  “We’ve both met him, not that you would have recognized him with the mask. His name is Will Marshall.”

  “Who’s Will?”

  “He’s friends with Kevin, my teaching assistant. He helped us move things into your apartment. I’ve seen him on campus with Kevin several t
imes since, and I recognized his voice.”

  “So he knows where I live?” Beth asked.

  Mark nodded. “Also, Kevin mentioned that Will’s little brother attends your school. He could have easily gotten those notes to you. I let the police know. They’ll want to see those.”

  “But why would he do this?”

  “Who knows?”

  “So you think he planned all this out? He’s been watching us all along?”

  “I don’t know, but my teaching assistant apologized for ever introducing us. It’s not Kevin’s fault, but I know he feels bad. I’ve taken Kevin fishing several times. He said he’d bragged to Will about my boat and fishing equipment. Kevin suspects Will has a drug problem.”

  “Now that you mention it, Will did say something about needing a fix.”

  “So that explains his motive for robbery—to try and fence items to pay for his drug habit. And as for the notes, I guess Will just became infatuated with you.” Who wouldn’t be? A part of him envied the Knight. At least his feelings for Beth were out in the open.

  “So the notes and everything, it’s over now?”

  Mark rubbed her hand and nodded then let go.

  He reached inside the side pouch on his wheelchair and produced a small teddy bear. “Here. This is for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “It doesn’t make up for what happened, but I didn’t know what else to do. When you were younger and had tonsillitis, I remember my mom drove me over to your house, and we brought you a teddy bear. It made you smile then, so…”

  “It’s perfect.” She squeezed the bear and grinned.

  He released a sigh.

  She set the stuffed animal in her lap. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.” He brushed a stray hair behind her ear. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

  “But something else is bothering you.”

  Mark folded his arms. “I should have known it was Will. If I had figured things out, then maybe this could have been prevented.”

  “It’s not your fault. You barely know Will. I certainly wouldn’t have suspected he’d turn out to be the Knight. And who could have guessed he’d break into the business?”

  Speaking of the bait store, he’d been found outside on the ground, with her yearbook and purse nearby. He could understand her purse, but how had the yearbook gotten from the van to there? Perhaps she picked it up and moved it. Maybe she suspected he’d uncovered the identity of her secret crush. Should he bring it up now? No, he’d wait until his upcoming shopping trip with her. A couple hours together would leave nowhere for Beth to run and hide from him. And if that didn’t work, they had all of Thanksgiving to discuss things.