Secrets In The Breeze

by David Banner

  "Listen, kid," he said. "I've seen a lot of people think they can change the tide. People who start out with the best intentions and a strong will. Then I've seen those same people get lost in the waves and wash up on this very shore. I've been around these waters for a long time, and I've seen the ebb and flow in every direction, along every current. But never once have I seen anything turn out the way they thought it would. The water has a way of washing away everything you think you know, then you're left alone on the sand, struggling to find your way back."

  "I can't not try," I said. "They have the people I care about. I have to get them back, and if I get lost trying, then I’ll know I'll have done all I could. But I can't just stand here and stare into the water, Randy. I can't."

  "Then take it," he said, placing the small silver earring in my hand. "But remember to watch out for icebergs in the night."

  "I will."

  "Thank you," Hope said, standing on her toes, and laying a soft kiss on the old man's cheek.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  W E ARRIVED AT THE SPANISH REEF HOTEL RIGHT BEFORE MIDNIGHT, AND AS USUAL, IT WAS PRETTY QUIET WITH NEXT TO NO ACTIVITY. At least, that's what it looked like from the road. There were also bits of broken glass still lying around, and cardboard crudely taped over the windows Hope busted with Micah's baseball bat. The closer we got to the rooms, the more evident it became what was happening inside them.

  "This place is so freaking gross at night," Hope said.

  "Yeah ..."

  I took the lead, walking closely along the wall. The sound of moans, and rhythmic pounding, resonated from within the rooms. Light shone through the gaps in the cardboard, and in some cases, what was happening in the rooms was easily viewable. Prostitution and drugs seemed to run rampant at The Spanish Reef Hotel under the darkness of night.

  Reaching the last room along the wall I pushed back the cardboard and slid my hands around window frame, turned the door handle and pushed it open. The room was average in every way. Classic Florida touches, such as wicker chairs and anchor lamps, made up most of the furnishings while a single queen-sized bed with a bright orange and blue comforter filled the remaining space.

  "Where should we put this?" I said.

  "Let me handle that."

  "Hey. I meant to ask you. Why the 'dog walker from Savannah'?"

  "It's stupid. You'll laugh."

  "I won't."

  "A long time ago, early one morning Sonny woke me and said we were gonna drive up to Savannah, Georgia. We were staying in St. Augustine at the time, so it was only a couple of hours away." A warm smile slowly creeped across her face. "We got there around lunch time, and so we decided to eat at this little Greek restaurant on the corner of River Street. I'd never eaten Greek food before, so I was really excited. I remember the smell of the burning liquor as they lit the cheese on fire right in front of us."

  "I've actually been there," I said. "I know the place you're talking about."

  "It was so good. Then afterward, we got chocolate pralines and gelato. We spent the whole day just wandering around the old south. We went to this big graveyard in the middle of downtown and Sonny told me all about how so many of them ended up there from yellow fever."

  "What does that have to do with a dog walker?"

  "Later that evening, we were walking along one of the old streets, and I saw this girl. I'll never forget her. She had these three dogs on leashes guiding her way. She had those old-school headphones in her ears and a Walkman attached to her hip. I just remember seeing her go by, her feet pounding the cobblestone. She was dancing and swaying. It was in that moment I realized I had never seen anyone so truly happy. She seemed free in a way I couldn't imagine." Her eyes glazed over as she continued, leaving her sweet blue eyes wet with tears. "I pointed her out to Sonny. I asked him how I could become that. How I could become the kind of person who ... He told me that if what I wanted was to be a dog walker from Savannah, then that was what I should be. I loved him for that, for always telling me to be who I wanted."

  "Wow ..." I said.

  "Yeah." She walked toward the door, letting out a big laugh, and wiping her eyes dry. "Let's get out of—"

  That's when I heard the unmistakable clicking of a taser. Hope's body gyrated wildly for a few seconds, then fell hard against the floor. I watched as Jacob and his brother came marching toward me, electric sparks flying from their hands. We hadn't planned for this and we were far from prepared. But I was tired of fighting these people and with every step they took I became more and more angry.

  "Yes. Technically Hope and I were the ones who had broken in, but that didn't matter to me at the moment. I just wanted to get the people I cared about free from Sofia. And if that meant taking down a couple of drug dealers then so be it.

  "Back up!" I said.

  "Aww ..." Jacob turned to his brother. "Look, Patrick, he's telling us to leave our own hotel. Isn't that terrible?"

  "Just terrible ..." the brother, whose name I finally learned, said. "Maybe we should ask him to leave instead."

  The sound of cracking wood filled the room. I looked past Patrick to see Hope standing and holding a piece of the shattered window sill. Quickly I turned and grabbed the large anchor lamp to my left, tore the shade from it, and held it in my hands. "Don't do this," I said.

  "Too late." Jacob let out a sadistic grin.

  "Fine!" Hope said, slamming the wooden plank into Patrick's neck. He fell to the ground, gasping for air, and clawing at his throat. As Jacob turned to look, I took the opportunity to rush forward and slam the heavy anchor base into the small of his back, only he didn't go down nearly as easily as his brother.

  He turned to me, a hateful grin on his face. Then, holding the small taser out, he rushed toward me. I knew I couldn't let the small metal prongs touch my skin, no matter what. Otherwise we wouldn't make it out in time for our plan to work. "Hope!" I yelled, tossing the anchor to her. Then I Lifted the bright orange and blue comforter from the bed and held it in front of me like a wall. In one quick breath I ran forward, barreling toward him at top speed. I felt my body collide hard with his. The impact caused me to lose balance as my feet struggled to find footing on the thick cotton.

  I felt a sharp pain cut across the side of my abdomen as I hit the floor. Looking up I saw that Hope had gashed me with the anchor as she slammed it into Jacob's back.

  "Come on!" she said, grabbing my hand. "Let's get out of here."

  We ran quickly out the door, stepping over the bodies of the two men along the way. All we had to do now was get the police to discover the ring. "Hey," I said to Hope as we got back into the car. "Where did you end up putting the ring?"

  "I slid it into Patrick's back pocket as he hit the ground."

  "Awesome," I said, feeling a sting of pain shoot across my stomach. "Damn!"

  "What?"

  "You kinda sliced me," I said, lifting my shirt and showing her the gash.

  "Oh my God! Is it bad?"

  "I don't think so. But I probably need a couple of stitches."

  "I can do it. Let's head home."

  "You?" I asked.

  "Yeah ... What do you think I was doing back in the Everglades while you were passed out?"

  "I guess I hadn't thought about it."

  "Well," she said. "I was helping Rachel tend to you. I wasn't just gonna sit there and watch. I can do it."

  "Okay," I said. "I trust you."

  "Go upstairs and get undressed," Hope said as we pulled into the driveway of my house.

  "Don't we need to call in the police?"

  "I dialed 911 from the room before we left. The police should be getting there right about now."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  "I S THIS OKAY?" HOPE SAID, WIPING PEROXIDE ACROSS MY WOUND.

  "Yeah. It's fine."

  It was a little strange being basically naked in front of her, but the wound was so low on my side I had no choice but to remove my pants and slide my boxers a little further down. This was t
he second time we'd found ourselves in this situation though. After the explosion in the everglades she helped tend to my back, and now, here she was doing basically the same thing.

  I watched as she carefully wiped my wound again and again, making sure it was free of anything that might cause problems. Her movements were slow and calculated. At first, I thought she was nervous, but the more I looked at her I realized that wasn't what was happening. She wasn't afraid, not at all. In fact, she was completely confident in every move she made. Every wipe, every stitch, and every smile.

  "Thank you," I said.

  She raised her eyes and gave me a sweet smile. "Not a problem."

  "You didn't have to come, you know."

  "What?"

  "I'm just saying. This is the second time we've done this. I feel like I keep pulling you away from your life, and getting you involved in my messes. I'm just saying. You didn't have to respond to that voicemail."

  "I know I didn't have to," she said, pushing the needle through my skin. "I came because I wanted to."

  Her hands were soft and warm, like butter melting across my skin. And even in the dim light of my bedside lamp, I could still see the deep, glistening blue of her eyes.

  "You're right. You're good at this."

  "Rachel taught me well."

  Hearing Rachel’s name pulled me out from my thoughts. I couldn't explain it, but when I was alone with Hope I felt almost guilty in a way. As though the idea of something happening between us was only seconds away from becoming a reality. But that wasn't me, I wasn't the kind of person to do that to someone. At least, I hoped that was the case.

  "We're gonna get her back, right?" I said as she tied up the last of the stitches.

  "Yes. We'll get her back," she said, standing up from the bed. "I guess I should find a place to sleep. Is there a spare bedroom?"

  "You can take Micah's room," I said, grabbing the tips of her fingers. "But don't. Just ... Stay here. Lay down."

  "I ... Rachel is—"

  "Just lay beside me. That's all. I'll feel safer knowing we're together."

  "Alright." She took a deep breath then climbed in the bed beside me. "Tell me something interesting."

  "Like what?"

  "I don't care. Just talk. I'll fall asleep listening to you."

  I told her about my life, about my parents, and my brother. I told her about the first time I saw Rachel, and the last time I saw my parents. I talked about the time my dad tried to fry a turkey and almost burned down our Oak tree.

  It was nice, just talking that way, knowing the sound of my voice would carry her off into sleep. And even though I knew she was asleep through most of it, I still kept talking. It seemed I found as much comfort in the nearness of her body as she found in the sound of my voice, because the last thing I remember was my hand accidentally gliding across the small of her back and how nice that felt.

  Hours later I woke to the orange light of the rising Gulf Coast sun. Hope's face and arm were laying across my chest, and her long hair fell in tendrils across my body like a web of silk. I wanted to move, to get up, and head out into the day, but the thought of waking her just didn't feel right, so I decided to wait until she woke on her own.

  Twenty minutes later, she began rustling awake, her cheek dug into my chest and the tip of her finger fell across my navel. Batting her eyes in the bright morning glow she looked up at me, then quickly pulled away.

  "I'm sorry," she said, sitting up in the bed.

  "It's okay." I smiled. "I didn't want to wake you."

  "I don't remember falling asleep ... Did—"

  "We just slept. I guess my boring story did its job."

  "I guess," she said, running her hands through her hair.

  "But look." I motioned toward the television set. "It worked."

  Images of The Spanish Reef hotel flashed across the screen with headlines reading 'Local hotel worker held in connection with unsolved murder'.

  "That's one down," said Hope.

  "Yup! I guess now, it's time to make a deal."

  "I'm sure Olivia will be a little more accepting this time, now that her grandson's freedom is on the line."

  "I would be."

  "What do ya say we set up that meeting?"

  "I say, let's go."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  "I F YOU WANT YOUR GRANDSON OUT OF JAIL AND CLEARED OF THESE CHARGES, YOU'LL COOPERATE FULLY. There is a shipment coming into a large container dock in Tampa later tonight. So as not to look suspicious we will unload it in the light of day tomorrow morning," Hope said. "Once the items have been accounted for, you will supply your sales force with my product, and slowly, we will expand into Tampa and the surrounding Gulf waters. Then, together, we will reap the benefits of our new partnership. Do you understand?"

  "Do you believe in curses, Ms. Knight?" the old lady asked.

  "I do not," Hope responded.

  "Neither did Sharon Rhodes; look at her now. I assure you curses are very real. I came to this country many years ago, and, with me, I brought as many good things as I could, but I also brought some bad things too. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay away."

  "Listen, lady. I'm sure all that scares some people away, and I see that you’re really into it, but I'm a realist here. I live in the reality of the real world, and what I'm telling you is, your grandson will die in jail if you don't comply with me. Now, keep in mind, this conversation is merely a courtesy, getting rid of you won't bother me for a minute. I thought I'd give you the chance to show your grandsons the way to stay alive. Either way, I'll own this island, and everything it touches."

  Jacob's gaze was angry and deep. It was only the third time he and I had ever seen one another, but already we had built a tempestuous relationship. Normally, that kind of thing would bother me, but from a power-hungry, drug-dealing kid, I wasn't looking for much respect.

  "Listen to her," I said. "Because if you defy my employer in any way, I will come after you, and you, Jacob, won't survive it, that's a promise. Remember, we are better than you, more powerful than you, and so much smarter. Don't be a fool, take this opportunity to help yourself, and your family."

  The words dropped from my lips like venom, and I watched as he soaked in every ounce of it. I knew that to get him to do what we wanted, I would have to make him as angry as he'd ever been. And, having met him before, and hearing the way he spoke of himself, I knew just how proud he was.

  "Yes," Hope said. "You've been playing in the little leagues, but we can take you into the majors."

  "Don't call me little league," Jacob said through gritted teeth. "I—" his words were cut short by a tap from his grandmother cane.

  "Just remember, Jacob," Hope said, applying a thick layer of gloss to her lips then smacking hard. "Without me, you're nothing."

  I could practically see the rage resonating off his skin. Our words obviously managed to get through. He was practically shaking under the soft gulf sky. Hope turned on her heels and headed for the car, her long silk dress flowing behind her.

  "See you later, Jacob. It'll be nice to have you working for us," I said, then headed back to the car and drove away.

  "Well," Hope said. "That's it. It's up to Jacob now."

  "He's gonna show. I can feel it."

  "I know he will. He's too crazy not to."

  "So, I guess it's back to Coquina Beach," I said. "You sure you'll be okay alone?"

  "I'm used to working alone, I'll be fine, it's you I'm worried about."

  "I'm good." I looked to her. "I got this."

  "Okay," Hope said. "Make the call.

  Just north of Coquina Beach, along one of the most beautiful stretches of land on Ann Maria Island, sits a little bar named Joey of The Sea. The small building is tucked away just off Highway 789, Gulf Drive.

  It was one of the first places I found after moving to the island. Micah and I were headed down the coast, driving along the ocean-side highway, when he asked me to pull over and let him feel the sand
between his toes. We spent about an hour there, not doing or saying much, just kind of lying in the sun and enjoying the sound of the water.

  It was warm that day, with little breeze, and the sound of birds flying overhead looking for their morning breakfast. The warmth had brought people out and onto the sand. Everywhere I looked there was someone else to see. That had always been one thing I loved about the beach. People of every age, every social standing, it didn't matter, they all loved the water and the sand. It's just easier to be happy when you're surrounded by the cool air and the open water. I thought about that a lot since moving to Anna Maria, and I thought about it then too.

  But I had work to do, and I didn't have much time, I pulled the phone from my pocket, and dialed Hope. "Anything?" I asked, parking my Wrangler in front of Joey's bar.

  "Nothing yet."

  "Maybe they're not coming ..." I said.

  "Oh, he'll come," Hope said confidently. "He's too angry not to."

  "Everything just got so complicated."

  "Everything is always complicated, Brandon. Haven't you learned that yet? Even when things are simple, it's usually because you're choosing not to see half of what's happening around you."

  "That's a depressing thought."

  "Only because it's true," Hope said.

  "Hey, I never asked. Where'd you go? When you left, after clearing Micah?"

  "Savannah ..."

  Hearing her say the word made me happy in a way I couldn't really describe. Not like I was bouncing off the walls or giddy at the thought of someone going to Georgia. It was something else, something much different. She had finally done the things she always wanted to, but the more I thought about it, the more it became tinged with sadness. She was right. Things were always complicated.

  "Because of Sonny ..." My voice trailed off.

  "I had nothing else holding me."

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring it up."