Shattered Haven

by Carol J. Post

  “Good. Because if you double-cross me, I’ll come after you. There won’t be anywhere on this planet you could hide that I wouldn’t find you.”

  Terrance apparently chose to ignore the threat. “Everything has stayed dry. There doesn’t seem to be a drop of water in here.”

  He removed a couple more bundles of cash from the container, then pulled something else from underneath—a sealed bag of white powder. Probably cocaine or heroin. He held it up in the beam of the flashlight. “What about the dope? You think it’s still good?”

  “It’s pure, uncut. It’s been kept cool and dry all this time, so it might be. How about we test that theory later.”

  Terrance smiled, pride straightening his spine. “That sounds like a plan. Am I picking you up where we talked about?”

  Allison drew in a sharp breath as hope surged through her. Terrance was keeping his plans secret. Maybe he intended to let them live.

  “Yep. I’m hiding out in an abandoned shed about a mile from the water. Text me when you get close.” The voice on the phone fell silent for several moments. “Terrance? You know what you’re going to have to do.”

  A sick sense of dread replaced the hope she had felt moments earlier.

  Terrance rolled his shoulders, as if trying to dispel some tension. “I know. We already talked about it.”

  “You’re not going to wimp out on me, are you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “That’s good, because Bear Stevens don’t sire no wimps.”

  The words slammed into her, knocking the air from her lungs. They had been right about Bear Stevens all along. But they had missed one important detail. Terrance was his contact on the outside, the one doing all his dirty work.

  Terrance was his son.

  She’d never made the connection. No one had. Terrance grew up in nearby Chiefland with his mother. That was all anyone knew. He never spoke of his criminal father.

  But that didn’t mean he didn’t talk to him. Or want to win his admiration. Maybe even grow up to be like him.

  She pulled her thoughts back to the conversation going on less than twenty feet away.

  “This is your chance to make up for all your mess ups over the past month. You gotta be tough.”

  “I am tough. I’m gonna do this right. I’ll make you proud.”

  He disconnected the call, picked up the weapon and stood. His intent was written all over his face. He stared at them, jaw set, eyes cold and devoid of emotion. “No loose ends.”

  Allison shook her head, trying hard to swallow the panic spiraling inside her. This was it. They were going to die. God, please help us.

  She slowly rose to her feet. “You don’t have to do this, Terrance. You don’t have to follow in your father’s footsteps. You can take us back to Cedar Key, and this will all be over.”

  Terrance raised the pistol. “You don’t understand. I do have to do this. If I let you go, you’ll go straight to the police. I’m not going to jail, and I’m not giving up this.” He glanced at the plastic box beside him.

  Blake took a single step forward. “Terrance, have you ever killed anyone before?” He took another step. “I have. And once it’s done, you can’t ever take it back.” He took a third step. “Is that something you want to live with for the rest of your life?”

  “Stop!” The word rang out clear and sharp. “My dad says I’ve always been a wimp. But I’m not. I can do what needs to be done.”

  He lifted the weapon, and Allison’s heart stopped. He was going to shoot Blake. Then he would shoot her. And no one would know until some boater happened upon their bodies. All because she removed that stupid paper from the newel post and gave it to the police. It was one small decision, but it would cost her her life. And Blake’s.

  She sought his eyes, wanting to communicate everything she felt for him in the moments they had left. But his gaze was fixed on Terrance. Whoever Blake had called, whatever he had planned, it hadn’t worked.

  Terrance aimed. Squeezed his eyes shut. Drew in a deep breath.

  And fired.

  THIRTEEN

  The instant Terrance closed his eyes, Blake flew into action. He sprang sideways, crumpled to the ground and did three sloppy somersaults. Pain shot through his knee, the worst he had experienced in months.

  But he couldn’t focus on that now. He grasped the shovel handle and sprang to his feet. But his bad leg buckled, twisting as he tumbled sideways. The pain intensified, a raging fire that nothing would quench. Stars filled his vision and blackness encroached. Dear God, what have I done?

  Terrance opened his eyes and jerked the gun around. Only about seven feet separated them. But it may as well have been fifty. He would never be able to strike before Terrance took his second shot.

  Then the low hum of an approaching powerboat drifted to them across the water. Terrance heard it, too, and his head swiveled in response.

  Blake’s breath came out in a rush. This was the break he had prayed for. He hoisted himself to his good knee and lunged forward, swinging the shovel with all his might. It connected solidly with Terrance’s right hand. His weapon sailed through the air and landed in the sand ten feet from where Allison stood.

  He shot her a glance. “Grab the gun!” His voice was strained as pain bore into his consciousness, threatening to shut everything else out.

  Allison responded immediately. He had told her to stay alert, and she had. Before the words were all the way out of his mouth, she was diving for the weapon.

  Terrance did, too, but she reached it first, rolled away and sprang to her feet. Respect and admiration swept through him, along with an undercurrent of envy. She executed the move exactly the way he had wanted to. But couldn’t.

  “Don’t move.” She stood with her feet shoulder width apart, weapon aimed at Terrance’s chest. “I’m not afraid to use this. You probably know that pink Glock you’re holding on to is mine.”

  Terrance took a step back and raised both hands, his eyes never leaving Allison’s face. She stood strong and poised, with all the confidence of a sharpshooter. But Blake knew better. She was bluffing.

  “Bring me the weapon, sweetheart.”

  She hurried to him, and he took it from her before Terrance’s mind registered the fact that it wasn’t cocked.

  He pulled back the hammer, and Terrance tensed.

  “Hands behind your head. Now on your knees.”

  Terrance did as he was told, and Blake looked down the channel. A boat approached from the direction of Cedar Key. The hum grew louder, and dual spotlights appeared in the distance.

  Allison dropped to her knees beside him. “You’re hurt.”

  “I’ll be all right.” Maybe someday. He wasn’t kidding himself. This was no minor sprain. But he would deal with it later. Terrance was still armed.

  “Remove Allison’s Glock from your jacket. Slowly. Any sudden moves, and you’re dead.”

  Again, he complied, holding it between a thumb and forefinger, barrel facing down.

  “Now toss it over there.”

  When he did, Allison hurried to retrieve it, then returned to him with a frown, distaste settling in her features. One lesson at the shooting range hadn’t changed anything. She was still not fond of guns, which made her display of bravery a few minutes ago that much more impressive.

  Another sound joined the hum, this one more pulsing, and a spotlight circled the area. Hunter had done well. Not only was a boat speeding their way, but he had managed to get a Levy County sheriff’s chopper in the air.

  He cast a glance at Allison. “Get out in the open. Make sure they see you.”

  She hurried to the water’s edge and looked up. The beam swept past her, then returned, bathing her in white light. The beacon coordinates had put them closer to the channel side of the
island, and that was where she stood, waving her arms. She looked up the channel and flagged down the boat as it approached.

  A minute or so later, it decelerated and nosed up to shore—the Cedar Key Fire rescue boat. The telltale fiberglass rails rising in a tall arc on each side gave it away. Bobby stepped off and made a beeline for Terrance, removing the handcuffs from his belt as he went. He was dressed in his Cedar Key Police uniform. His radio crackled, and he advised dispatch that everything was under control. Moments later, the chopper turned and headed back toward the mainland.

  Blake held up a hand. “Before you let them go, we’ve got a lead on where Bear Stevens is hiding.” The words came out strained. Blackness encroached further, and a hollow ring filled his head.

  Bobby snapped the cuffs on Terrance’s wrists. “Where?”

  “An abandoned shed about a mile from the water.”

  “Abandoned shed where?”

  The ring grew louder, and Blake lay back, panting. “They didn’t say. Somewhere nearby, I’d guess. Terrance was supposed to get the loot and pick him up.”

  Bobby spoke into his radio, relaying the information to dispatch, and Blake let his head roll to the side. Allison was hurrying toward him, followed by Wade and Joe with first-aid supplies. Hopefully that kit Joe carried contained something for pain.

  He closed his eyes, willing himself to remain conscious. Wade and Joe would get him temporarily patched up. Then would come the trip to the hospital for tests and possibly more surgery. Dread filled him as his mind flashed back to those agonizing months of recovery.

  Here he was, at the beginning of another long, painful road. More time of inactivity followed by grueling physical therapy.

  And he would do it in Dallas.

  Now it was clear—he could no longer stay in Cedar Key, entertaining unrealistic thoughts of a future with Allison. She was physically perfect. At one time, he was, too. But he had to face the facts. He would never again be what he once was—strong, active, athletic...a whole man.

  Allison might be willing to spend the rest of her life tied to a cripple, but he couldn’t do it. She would be hurt at first. But eventually she would move on. And she would find that perfect man—someone who was her match in every way.

  Wade dropped to his knees next him. “Allison said you hurt your leg.”

  “Yeah, I avoided a bullet but blew out my knee.”

  “How bad is it?”

  He tried to sit up, and a wave of nausea assaulted him. He stifled a groan. “It’s bad. I don’t know what I did, but when I tried to stand, it gave way and bent in a direction knees aren’t supposed to bend.”

  Wade grimaced in sympathy. “Then we’re going to go ahead and splint it right here and carry you to the boat. We’ll have an ambulance waiting.” Joe knelt on his other side and began laying out supplies while Wade continued. “Any other injuries? You’re both okay other than that?”

  Blake nodded. “Other than my knee, we’re both fine. Thank God.” He smiled up at Allison. “And yes, I have, several times.” In fact, he hadn’t stopped thanking Him since the moment the rescue boat appeared.

  Bobby walked toward them, leading a cuffed Terrance. The toughness had ratcheted down several notches now that he was looking at jail time for kidnapping and possibly attempted murder. His head was bowed, his shoulders slumped. But he was too proud to offer excuses or plead for leniency.

  Bobby smiled down at Blake. “Thanks for already having my job done. Good going, Detective.”

  “I can’t take all the credit. Allison had a big hand in it.”

  She dropped to her knees and draped an arm across his shoulders. “You’re the one who clobbered him with the shovel.”

  “And you’re the one who got the gun. If not for that, we’d both be dead.”

  “I guess we make a good team.”

  The smile that lit her eyes should have warmed him from the inside out. Instead, it made his gut burn with guilt. The last thing he had wanted to do was hurt her. But he was left with no choice. To stay would be selfish.

  “Hunter’s on his way.” Bobby tilted his head toward the water. The red glow of a port bow light moved down the channel. “I figured I’d catch a ride on the rescue boat. I knew this baby would get me here in a hurry.”

  By the time Hunter arrived, Wade and Joe had splinted his leg and were loading him onto the boat. Hunter stepped ashore, his gaze sweeping all of them. “Looks like I’m late to the party.” His eyes settled on Blake. “Your call went to my voice mail. Fortunately I picked it up about fifteen minutes later. I thought you had pocket dialed me. But it didn’t take me long to figure out you were in trouble and trying to give me clues.” He frowned. “I would ask if you guys are okay, but it looks like you’re not.”

  Blake looked up at him from the floor of the rescue boat. He sat propped up against the side, legs stretched across the back. A bead of perspiration made a track from his brow down the side of his face. But the blackness had retreated. Stabilizing his knee had helped. “Hey, we’re alive. That’s what counts. Several times tonight, I didn’t hold out much hope.”

  Hunter shook his head. “I can’t believe Terrance was behind all this. When you used his name on the phone, I thought I had heard wrong.”

  Bobby stepped up. He had sat Terrance on the sand nearby, waiting for a ride to shore. “It wasn’t just Terrance. Bear Stevens masterminded the whole thing.”

  Hunter raised his brows. “Bear Stevens? What connection does he have with Terrance?”

  “Father.” It was Allison who answered the question.

  Both Bobby’s and Hunter’s jaws dropped, but it was Hunter who found the words. “Bear is Terrance’s father? I didn’t see that coming.”

  “None of us did.”

  Bobby turned to Hunter. “Since we’ve got a kidnapping and an attempted murder, with a shot fired, I figured we’d let Levy County’s CSI guys investigate. I’ll go ahead and get everything I can from Allison, but we’d better wait till later to interview this one.” He cast a glance at Blake. “He’s not looking too great.”

  Blake gave them a weak smile. He wasn’t feeling too great, either.

  Hunter frowned. “The sooner we get him some help, the better. What about Terrance?”

  “I’ve already read him his rights. I’ll question him while I’m waiting for CSI to get here. Then I’ll bring both him and his boat back. I’ll have you follow us, just in case he tries something. And we’ll have Allison ride with you. If I know her, she’s going to be chomping at the bit to go be with Blake.”

  Blake slumped, that same guilt burning a path through the regret that already clogged his chest. Yes, Allison would stay by his side, compassionate and attentive. Those were two of the qualities that made her so special—two among too many to name. She was beautiful, inside and out.

  And that was why he had to leave. If he stayed, she would probably look no further.

  And she deserved so much better.

  * * *

  Water drained from the kitchen sink, leaving a min mountain range of white suds. Allison leaned against the counter and lifted her gaze to the window. Outside, the moon reflected off the Gulf in a shimmering white streak, moving with the gently rolling waves. The serene scene seemed to heighten her sense of melancholy.

  Blake wasn’t at his boat when she got in from her charter. When she had tried to call him, his phone went straight to voice mail. Had it gone dead? Or was he avoiding her?

  Her chest tightened. For the past three days, he had seemed distant. Ever since getting hurt. Maybe it was the pain. Or the medications. But no matter how she tried to rationalize it, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was losing him.

  Or maybe she never had him.

  He had hinted at staying. But she had seen his restlessness, the frustration he felt with no longer
being able to live on the edge. And she had seen how invigorated he had been once there was a bad guy to catch and a woman to protect. Now that the danger was over, would he hang around? Or would he be off in search of the next adventure? Was there anything to tie him to Cedar Key?

  Was there anything to tie him to her?

  The ring of the doorbell jarred her from her thoughts. She tensed, then forced herself to relax. Terrance was in custody. So was Bear—Chief Sandlin had gotten notification a few hours after they left the island.

  When she looked out her living room window, her stomach rolled over. Blake and Brinks waited on her porch. She opened the door, and Brinks looked up at her, tail nub wagging and excitement rippling through him. Blake stood next to him, leaning on a cane, a brace on his right leg. Pain had etched lines into his features, lines that had been there for the past three days.

  She swung the door wider, then backed up to allow him entry. “You didn’t walk here, did you?”

  He stepped into the foyer. “I started to, but Bobby drove by and had pity on me.”

  She led him into the living room and, once he was seated, settled onto the couch next to him. Brinks sat in front of her and rested his head in her lap.

  “I tried to call you after my charter.”

  “My phone was off.”

  No explanation, no apology. Her chest tightened.

  Blake’s eyes dipped to the floor then met hers. They held pain, but this pain wasn’t physical. Dread pressed down on her.

  “I came by to let you know I’ll be leaving in the morning.”

  She swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Hot tears tried to push their way to the surface, and she beat them back. She wouldn’t cry. She had known from the start that his stay was temporary.

  “I need to go back to Dallas. My doctors are there, my therapists.” He gave her a half smile, but it was forced. “My time here has been great. And I have you to thank for that. But I can’t stay in limbo forever.”