Telltale (Shelby Hope Book Two) (Shelby Hope Novels 2)

by Stephanie Parrish

  ✽✽✽

  DURING OUR JOURNEY toward Beaufort, I felt restless and anxious, not at all like I’d felt yesterday. Until Rumbar was arrested, I knew I’d feel unsettled. Even if he left the country now, he might always decide to come looking for me later. I wouldn’t feel peaceful until I was sure he was put away for good.

  We made it to the city marina late afternoon. Alex radioed the office, and the dockmaster directed us to our slip. With a surge of pleasure, I saw that Matt was standing at our slip, ready to help us with our lines. As soon as we were tied off, I hopped off the boat and hurled myself into his arms. He staggered backward.

  "Hey, Shelby, good to see you too," he said, laughing. He hugged me tight. "I see you guys made it okay."

  "Yeah, Alex is an expert sailor now. There’s nothing for me to do anymore. I just sit in the cockpit and drink mimosas. How was your flight? You must have gotten in pretty early."

  "I took a morning flight out of Fort Myers. The drive up from Savannah was pretty good. Not a lot of traffic. I got here about an hour ago. My bag’s up in the office. We’ll pick it up when we go to check in."

  Alex climbed off the boat next and said, "Good to have you back. I’m glad Henry is going to be okay."

  "Thanks."

  "We’ll walk up with you to get your bag, and I’ll get us checked in." We headed toward the office, Matt tucking my arm through his.

  We reached the marina office, and Alex began filling in paperwork, while I wandered around the ship’s store, looking at supplies, gadgets, and a few tourist trinkets. Matt’s bag sat in a corner, near a well-sprung sofa. An open Coke sat on the table, and the TV was turned on low.

  "I heard your hail, so I went down to meet you," Matt said, picking up the bag and polishing off the remains of the Coke. "What are your plans now?"

  "I think Alex has some ideas," I said. "I’m thinking about dinner because I’m getting a little hungry. I didn’t eat much at lunch."

  Alex finished up at the counter and headed toward us.

  "I’m hungry too," he announced. "I vote for dinner now, then maybe we can go for a walk."

  "I’d like to clean up a little before we go, though," I said.

  "You look fine. It feels hotter and more humid here, so you’ll just need another shower later anyway. Come on, let’s go drop Matt’s bag off and go out."

  I started to protest, but Alex cut me off. "I’m buying, but only if we leave right this second." I gave in.

  "Okay, where to?" Matt asked.

  "The dockmaster said there’s a Greek place close by," Alex said. "I’ve been having cravings since we left Tarpon Springs. Does that sound good to everyone?"

  We nodded. "Lead the way," Matt said. We made a quick trip to the boat, dumped Matt’s bag inside, then headed toward the restaurant. Alex walked a little ahead of us, like a bloodhound sniffing out a scent. Matt took my arm again, tucking it through his. "Are you doing okay, Shelby?"

  "Better now," I said, giving his arm a squeeze. "I talked to Detective Fairholm this morning. He said they haven’t arrested Rumbar yet." I filled him in on the rest of it.

  "Are you worried?"

  "Yes, I am," I admitted. "I’m going to feel a lot better when they find him. Because if they don’t, I’ll never know where he really is, and that thought doesn’t make me feel good."

  "That night on the boat, did he hurt you?" Matt asked. I could feel the muscles in his arm tighten as he asked.

  "Not really. The worst part of it was having him touching me, and…and squeezing me. I hated being that close to him." I shuddered. Matt put his hand over mine. His fingers were shaking.

  "I can see that I’m never going to be able to leave you on your own again," he said, with an attempt at lightness. "I turn my back for one minute and look what happens."

  "Well," I said, feeling guilty. "It might not have been so bad if I hadn’t forgotten the impeller."

  "Or it might have been worse. He might have tried to kill Alex too. Tell me, did you remember any of the self-defense stuff I showed you?"

  I grinned. "Yeah, surprisingly, I remembered a lot. And it helped. Thank you, Grasshopper."

  He laughed. "Silly girl. In that scenario, you’d be Grasshopper. I’d be Master. And let’s not forget that."

  "Let’s not get carried away," I said. Up ahead, Alex had stopped outside a restaurant with an outdoor patio and was reading the posted menu. We walked over. The specials made my mouth water.

  The hostess came over and asked if we’d like to sit outside. We took a table with a large umbrella. A slight breeze was blowing, riffling the edges of the canopy. She handed each of us a menu and took our drink orders. Everyone was quiet, intently studying the menus. A waiter came a few minutes later with our drinks, then got our orders.

  Alex lifted his glass. "Here’s to having Matt back and to his grandfather feeling better." We clinked our glasses and drank. "Now, I vote that we talk about normal things during dinner. No more mention of Johnny Rumbar or any of his relatives."

  "Hear, hear," Matt said. "A nice dinner tonight, without crime or criminals."

  I tried to relax despite my persistent unease. I found myself scanning the street frequently, watching for anyone lurking nearby and feeling jumpy if I noticed someone standing still or looking in my direction.

  So that was how I happened to spot Grace first, as she hurried toward us.

  Chapter 22

  She trotted up to the railing near our table. She was overdressed in a tight-fitting suit, as usual, and she patted her chest as she caught her breath from the sprint across the road in high heels. Next to me, Matt abruptly sat up straight, and Alex put down his fork and pushed back his chair. Oblivious, Grace zeroed in on me.

  "Shelby, Ms. Hope, I’m…"

  "Grace, we do not need to keep doing introductions."

  "I wasn’t! I was going to say that I’m still hoping you’ll reconsider and let me interview you, or at least comment on my latest blog."

  "What latest blog?" Alex demanded.

  Ignoring him, she said to me, "I waited, like I said, and then I published that you were still alive. You wouldn’t believe how many comments have been posted! Everybody is so happy that you’re okay. I know they’d love to hear from you, first hand."

  The tunnel vision thing happened again. I put my head in my hands until I calmed down enough to be able to see—and breathe—then I stood up. Reaching across the railing, I grabbed her lapel and dragged her close to me. Off-balance, she tottered on her high-heeled Mary Janes, her hands grasping for something to hold on to. The something happened to be me. She grabbed both my arms, swaying toward me, very nearly giving herself the Heimlich on the railing. I grabbed her other lapel and hauled her upright, still holding her close, too angry to verbalize what I wanted to say and stuttering in my fury.

  Her eyes widened in fear. Around me, the guys sat in stunned silence. Finally, Matt cleared his throat and stood up. Gently, he pried my fingers off her lapels and helped her to stand upright.

  "Okay, Shelby, take a drink," he said, reaching for my water and handing it to me. I drank, then hiccupped. "Deep breath." I inhaled, then exhaled. "Now, tell her what you want to say."

  I rubbed my forehead, trying not to lose my temper again. "You do realize, Grace, that Rumbar didn’t get arrested, right? That he’s still out there? You do know that, right?"

  She looked flustered, dropping her gaze.

  "Grace?"

  "I found out after I published. I still say that I have a right—"

  "I don’t really want to talk about your rights at the moment," I said.

  "And anyway, he would have found out sooner or later. I’m sure he was watching the other local newspapers too to see if they found your bod—you."

  Probably true, but I was mounted firmly on my high-horse of self-righteous wrath and refused to give her the benefit of the doubt. "That would still be a negative, Grace. Just because they didn’t find me, didn’t mean I wasn’t dead. Apparently, you’ve
given him a positive assurance that I’m still alive. That’s a little different, don’t you think?"

  "He may be gone, anyway, Shelby. It’s possible," she said, defensively, backing away.

  "And he may not. How did you find me here?"

  "Oh. Well, I asked at the marina. Someone at the office overheard you say you were going out for Greek food."

  "I mean, how did you find out I was in Beaufort?"

  "A guy at the marina in Belhaven told me you were heading this way."

  I looked at Alex, who hung his head guiltily. "I’m sorry, Shelby. I didn’t think…"

  "It doesn’t matter," Grace said. "I would have figured it out anyway. I mean, where else would you be heading? And then all I had to do was drive down here and listen to the VHF until you hailed. That’s how I knew which marina you were in." She smiled with self-satisfaction.

  "I think your talents as a writer are wasted. You should be a professional stalker," I snapped. The smirk slid off her face. "I want you to leave me alone. Starting now."

  "I don’t know why you’re so mad at me. I’m just doing a job. It’s that Rumbar guy that you should be angry with."

  "Get this, Grace. I’m afraid of Rumbar. Terrified. And if you had any sense, you would be too. So go. And don’t come back to bother me."

  "But…"

  Alex signaled to the waiter, who’d been hovering nearby, trying to eavesdrop on the drama. "Could we get our check, please?" Nodding, the waiter backed away slowly so he wouldn’t miss anything.

  Matt looked at Grace. "You heard the lady. We don’t want to see you anymore. Ever."

  Grace looked at each of us in turn. Her cheeks darkened as a mottled blush spread across her face as she repeated, "Look, I’m just doing my job."

  The waiter brought the check then, and Alex dumped some bills into the folder. "Here you go. Thanks for a nice dinner."

  The waiter nodded, still watching us with interest. Grace stood, indecisive, for another moment, then abruptly turned and marched away. Her exit was marred by the fact that the strap on her Mary Jane broke, causing her to stumble. Without looking at us, she straightened her shoulders and limped onward, the buckle clicking faintly as she headed down the street.

  Chapter 23

  The three of us headed out to the street. The guys were looking at me with concern, and possibly a little caution.

  "I’m sorry," I said. "I didn’t mean to come unglued like that."

  "I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that angry," Alex said.

  "I have," Matt said, grinning. "A few times."

  "Really?" Alex said. "I’m trying to picture that."

  "It’s a sight to see."

  Embarrassed, I said, "Okay, enough talking. Everyone move along. Nothing to see here."

  "I guess Grace should feel lucky that she didn’t get a bloody nose," Alex said.

  "Perhaps I overreacted a little," I said. "It’s just that—"

  "We know, we’re just teasing you. This Grace person seems determined to paint a target on you. Let’s head back to the boat and crack open a bottle of wine."

  By the time we got back to the boat, I had calmed down, enough to feel pretty sheepish for losing my temper with Grace. But the fear she had caused lingered on.

  Alex poured wine for each of us, and we sat in the salon, Alex talking animatedly to Matt about sailing down from Elizabeth City. When I was halfway through my wine, Matt said, "Shelby, you’ve been really quiet. Are you still worried about Grace’s article?"

  "Well, not so much her article as whether Rumbar knows I’m still alive or not. She was right about Rumbar looking at other newspapers or watching the news and seeing that there was no notice of finding me. But if he does happen to read her blog, then he’ll know for sure."

  "At this point, I would think he’d be more interested in getting out of town than worrying about you. Anyway, maybe he won’t read the blog. It seems like it’s more a local thing."

  "True. However, since he got information from it before, he might check it again. Or, if he doesn’t do it himself, one of his friends might, and tell him about it. Duke told me that he takes his boat up and down this area of the coast. Maybe Rumbar does too. Travels around here a lot, I mean. Who knows who might be keeping him up to date on everything that’s going on?"

  Alex said, "If that’s the case, then he’s also going to know that ATF is searching for him, along with the local police. And I was thinking about something else just now, Shelby. Before, when Rumbar was coming after you, he sent you those texts, remember? You haven’t had any more messages from him, have you?"

  "I hadn’t thought about that, but you’re right." Just to make sure, I pulled out my phone. There was nothing.

  "I think that’s a good sign."

  I nodded. "That does make me feel better."

  Matt said, "I know you mentioned some texts, but you never told me what they said."

  I handed him my phone. He took it, then gave me a look. I grinned. "I thought maybe since you’ve been using Trish’s phone, you’d joined the rest of us in the twenty-first century."

  "Nope. That was a one-time thing. I had Trish tell me how to answer the phone, and that was it."

  Still smiling, I took the phone from him and thumbed through until I reached the text messages. Opening them wiped the smile from my face. I handed the phone to Matt. He read them, a muscle jumping his cheek. When I took the phone back, I erased them all.

  Feeling like I had destroyed everyone’s upbeat mood, I stood up. "I’m going to head up to the facilities and have a long hot shower."

  "I don’t think you should go alone," Alex protested.

  "I need to get cleaned up too," Matt said. "I’ll walk up there with her."

  We got our shower bags and some fresh clothes, then walked up the dock and onto the street. The facilities were about two blocks away. It was nearly dark now, and people were out, enjoying the cooler evening as they walked through the town center, heading home for the day or out to dinner.

  The marina bathroom was a long low building, with the men’s facilities on one end, and the women’s on the other. Matt walked with me to the women’s side and unlocked the door with the key the dockmaster had given Alex earlier when he checked in.

  "I’ll come back here when I’m done," Matt said. "If you get done first, wait inside until I get here. I’ll knock. Okay?"

  "All right."

  "Okay, I’ll see you soon." He waited until I went inside and shut the door.

  I walked past the stalls and the sinks. A row of showers was at the far end of the room. Each shower had a small area with a bench for changing and hooks for hanging clothes, separated from the main room and the shower itself by plastic curtains. I put my bag down in one and pulled the curtain, then began unloading my stuff. Shampoo, soap, razor, washcloth in the shower. Clean clothes and towel hung up on hooks. I had just unfastened my ponytail when I heard the door open and feet shuffling toward me.

  The footsteps moved past me, and I heard a woman start to hum as she unpacked her bag. I was still brushing out my hair when the water went on in her shower. A second later, the bathroom door opened again and more footsteps headed toward the showers. Popular place, I thought.

  I dropped my hairbrush into my bag and reached for the hem of my shirt, ready to get undressed. Then, the plastic curtain leading to the corridor was abruptly yanked open, and a man stepped into the cubicle with me, pulling the curtain closed behind him.

  And I was face to face with Johnny Rumbar.

  Chapter 24

  I opened my mouth to scream, but he pushed me up against the concrete block wall, covering my mouth with his hand. Something cold was at my throat. He had a knife.

  "Shelby Hope. We meet again," he whispered, the dark eyes staring into mine. No laughing this time. "I thought for sure I’d seen the last of you when I dumped you overboard. You are really a thorn in my side, and this time, I’m not going to make it easy on you."

  The hand over my mouth
eased its grip, and I twisted my head, drawing in a breath to scream. He grabbed me tighter, his fingers squeezing my cheeks. "You don’t want to do that. You know why? Ivan’s here with me. He’s waiting down the hall. If you scream, he’ll kill the other woman that’s in here. You don’t want that on your conscience, do you?" I stared back, hating him.

  "We’re going to have to move fast. I saw that your boyfriend came down here with you, so there’s no time to play around." He leaned toward me, pinning me against the wall. I heard a fssst as his knife slid into his pocket, then his hand came up again. He held a needle just a few inches from my face, his eyes glittering as he slid the cap off with his fingers and squirted out some of the contents. I began struggling with him, but he whispered, "Don’t kill that other lady with your foolishness, Shelby." Then he stuck the needle into my neck.

  My body felt limp and helpless, then everything went dark.

  ✽✽✽

  WHEN I OPENED my eyes, I was lying on a riveted metal surface. The air smelled like old machinery, fish, and mildew. My head throbbed, and I felt woozy. Slowly, I sat up. A slight rocking told me that I was on a boat. But whose boat? And where?

  I put my head between my knees as a wave of nausea rolled over me. The last thing I remembered was Rumbar injecting me with something. The nausea and headache must be the aftereffects. I opened my eyes and raised my head. My vision slowly adjusted to the dim light coming from an uncovered sliver of portlight. Carefully, I stood up. I was in a room about ten feet by ten feet. On one side was a doorway, with a big heavy hatch, firmly shut. I made my way over and tried to open it. The handle wouldn’t turn. It must be locked from the outside.

  Opposite the door was the portlight. I walked to it. At some point in its past, someone had screwed pieces of sheet metal over it, apparently because the portlight itself was gone and all that was left was a hole. A couple of the screws had rusted on one of the pieces, and it had slipped sideways, exposing part of the opening. Gently, I pulled on it. The remaining screw still held. It didn’t matter anyway, as the hole was too small for me to crawl through, even if it had been fully exposed. However, the fresh breeze from outside felt good. I stood on tiptoe, staring out, trying to figure out where I was. All I could see was a bit of the deck and the enclosed rails of the boat. It looked like it might be an old workboat, maybe an industrial boat or a serious dive boat. I could hear nothing beyond the gentle creaking as we rocked in the water.