Run, River, Run

by C. F. Francis

  The assault on the beach couldn’t have anything to do with what happened in North Carolina. A lone woman made a tempting target. The guy today wanted her backpack—not her. She’d swear to it.

  Besides, her assailant had plenty of time to do some real damage even before that guy, Kevin, had come to her rescue. There was nothing of value in her bag, but an opportunist wouldn’t have known that. Water, sunscreen, and keys, along with her ID, made up the contents of the sack. Oh, yeah, and her gun—for all the good it did her today. Had Captain America spotted it when he retrieved the bottle of water? Probably. If he was telling the truth, he was a trained soldier, and a soldier would hardly miss the weapon.

  Once inside her unit, she double locked the door. Pressing her shoulder against it, she let out a cleansing breath. It took a minute to get her heart rate back to a normal rhythm. The attack had been an anomaly. It had to be. There was no reason to think it was the beginning of another reign of terror. Damn. She’d gotten comfortable and had dropped her defenses. Whether this was a single incident, or related to her troubles back home, she needed to be more careful

  She reset the security system before pulling the handgun from her backpack. As a rule, she’d put the weapon on her nightstand when she returned home, but she hung on to it while she inspected the condo. Dan had made sure she knew how to handle a weapon. Still, the gun felt cold and heavy in her hand as she went from room to room.

  Knowing it was obsessive, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from checking the closets and under the bed. History told her not looking would nag at her. Might as well do it now rather than in the middle of the night. As she made her rounds, she continually wiped the sweat from her palms onto her shorts.

  Nothing she found suggested that her home had been breached, but for the second time in a week her skin prickled. After ten months, surely her stalker would have moved on. As much as she had come to love this island, she yearned to return to the mountains where she was close to the spirit of her family. She’d lost them once. She didn’t want to lose her remaining connection to them.

  Shaking off the melancholy, she pulled a second phone from the pocket of her shorts. She had calls to make and she dreaded both. Dan would be concerned, and Aunt Amy would be frantic.

  A quick check of the cell she used for incoming calls confirmed that no one had tried to reach her today. She dropped that phone on the workbench, holding on to the one she used for outgoing calls. She scrolled to Dan’s number and pressed the call button.

  “What’s up, River?” Dan answered. The worry she expected resonated in his voice. Dan had become family even though they were not related by blood.

  “Has anybody asked about me since we last spoke? Anything unusual?”

  “No. Nothing. Why? What’s happened?”

  “A tussle with some guy on the beach,” she said, circling the room. “I’m certain all he wanted was my backpack. The beach was desolate except for me and some guy windsurfing.” She did her best to sound casual. She didn’t want him to worry. An officer with the Department of Natural Resources, Dan Nelson had been the first on the grisly scene fourteen years ago. He’d found her frantically moving from one member of her family to another, pressing articles of clothing from the ransacked suitcases against their wounds—wounds that were no longer bleeding because their hearts had stopped pumping. When Dan had pulled her away, she’d clung to him until her aunt came for her. River and Dan had remained close ever since. Dan had taken it upon himself to try and fill the void left by the death of her father.

  “Were you hurt?”

  “No. A little sand in my eyes, but they’re fine now thanks to the windsurfer. He came onshore and chased the bastard off.”

  “You sure you’re all right?”

  “Yes. Shaken but fine,” she answered, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt. “Has there been any chatter? Anything I should know about?”

  “I haven’t heard a whisper about you in months.”

  “Nothing unusual at the cabin?”

  “It’s been as quiet and peaceful as a church since you left. Like I promised, I check on it regularly.”

  “I don’t believe this had anything to do with my past. This was too bold a move. The asshole up there preferred to stay in the shadows while terrorizing me. I don’t believe he would have attacked me if I hadn’t come home unexpectedly that day.” This morning had shaken her, but it was nothing compared to the acts that had taken place those last few months at her cabin.

  “Have you learned anything further regarding the case?” she asked. While Dan had retired from law enforcement, he had friends in various agencies who knew he was close to her. According to Dan they were happy to keep him in the loop.

  “There’s been nothing new.”

  River’s pacing came to a stop in front of her workbench. She glanced at the mask in front of her. Cutting all ties with her former life, she’d closed her online graphic design business. Now her work consisted of custom designed, high-end masks. She’d learned there were an endless number of collectors, masquerade parties and, of course, Mardi Gras. She didn’t hurt for orders.

  Last night she’d left her current project on the bench so the crystals could set. Adorned with glass pieces and cultured pearls, the next step was to fill in the empty spaces with the semi-precious stones she’d purchased for the project. She’d planned to finish it today, but last night’s storm changed those plans. Her next design called for miniature shells—tiny, natural reproductions of the larger shells Sanibel was known for. They were tedious to find, but almost always plentiful after a storm. So, this morning she’d set off for an early morning foray to the beach.

  She’d been so focused on finding the tiny treasures that she didn’t sense the man coming up behind her. It had been stupid to let her guard down and now she had nothing to show for her trip. She’d left her small bag of booty at the beach.

  A steady hand was required to work which meant she needed to get her nerves under control. The mask was her most ambitious, detailed, and expensive project to date.

  The bejeweled mask stared back at her as if it had something to say. Probably ‘get on with it.’ It was right. When the final stones were set, she would add feathers for the finishing touch. They softened the edges and concealed the ribbons that would help to hold the mask in place.

  The ribbons. Her stomach rolled as she dropped into the chair. She always laid the ribbons flat on the surface of the bench to avoid creases. Now they were bunched beneath the mask. She wouldn’t have done that—consciously or unconsciously. When it came to her work, she was too damn meticulous.

  “River? What’s wrong?” Dan asked.

  How long had she been silent? “Nothing. Sorry. My mind was wandering.”

  “Do you want me to come down?”

  “If it turns out to be anything more than a purse, or in this case, backpack snatcher, I’ll call you and we’ll go from there.” The last thing she wanted was Dan or her aunt near danger if it had followed her here.

  “Did you report the attack?”

  “I can’t identify him, and he didn’t take anything,” she said, as if that would explain things. Like the guy on the beach, Dan would have insisted on calling the authorities.

  “I didn’t mean to get you in a tizzy,” she said, trying to lighten his unease.

  “I’m not in a ‘tizzy’,” he said.

  “Yes, you are, and I love you for it.” She relaxed a bit as she pictured his face turning beet red. Dan was a caring, but far from a demonstrative, individual.

  “When was the last time you talked to your aunt?” he asked, redirecting the conversation.

  “A week ago. Don’t mention this to her. Let me tell her,” River said, staring out the sliding glass door. The master suite, along with the living room, had balconies which faced Tarpon Bay. River slept in the smaller of the two bedrooms. Here, she could spread her work out and still have the space for an old-fashioned drafting table where she sketched her
designs. Besides, she was more comfortable sleeping in the bedroom which was marginally harder to access from the outside.

  She promised Dan she’d call her aunt. First, she needed to take another pass through her place to see if she missed anything. Ribbons didn’t get up and dance on their own unless they were part of a Disney movie. This was no Disney movie.

  3

  While Kevin was wrestling the board and sail from the outgoing tide, he placed the overdue call to Rick. He’d rather be chasing after River. If he hadn’t had to rescue the board, he would have taken off after her while he made the call., but the equipment wasn’t his and River, along with her assailant, were long gone. Still, the incident needed to be reported.

  “What’s up?” Rick answered.

  “I just witnessed an assault,” Kevin said. He held the phone to one ear while he slid the board the rest of the way into the bed of the truck.

  “Where?”

  “On the causeway,” Kevin answered, slamming the tailgate.

  “That’s Lee County Sheriff’s territory. I’ll place the call. Where on the causeway? Do they need to come with lights and sirens? Paramedics?”

  “Don’t press any buttons,” Kevin warned off his friend. “There’s no one left to talk to, tend to, or arrest. The assailant took off the minute my feet hit the sand. The woman didn’t want the police involved and is long gone. Both of them headed toward the island,” he continued, “so I wanted to give you a heads up.”

  “Give me their descriptions. How long ago did this happen?”

  Kevin glanced at his dive watch. “I’d say fifteen or twenty minutes since I first spotted the two. I never saw his face, but he was a white male in mid-forties. Average height and weight. Short, dark hair.” Kevin hopped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The rumble of his truck must have reverberated through the speaker.

  “Stay where you are,” Rick told him. “I’m coming to you.”

  “Why? There’s nothing to see. Besides, you said this isn’t your jurisdiction.” But he knew there was no point in arguing with Rick. Kevin moved his vehicle a few yards to the spot where the woman had been attacked. Grabbing his t-shirt from the passenger seat, he got out of the truck.

  “Which beach?”

  “First one out of Sanibel.” The causeway consisted of bridges and small atolls. “You’ll see my truck on the right,” Kevin answered. There were three atolls the causeway ran through. They were popular places. You could pull right up to the water’s edge and, unlike the beaches on Sanibel, there was no charge for parking.

  “Can you describe the woman? What were they driving?”

  Kevin clasped the back of his neck and rubbed. “I never saw the guy’s vehicle. If he was parked anywhere nearby, it was out of my line of sight.”

  “And the woman? Did she sprout wings and fly?”

  “Funny. She walked.”

  “And you let her?” Rick had him on speaker. Kevin heard the sound of the truck’s engine as Rick stepped on the gas.

  “I think forcing her to stay against her will would be breaking some law. I offered to give her a ride, but she took off.” And for some reason that irritated the hell out of him.

  “At least tell me you can describe her. Did you manage to get her name?”

  Kevin understood Rick’s frustration. Every member of the team was trained to see the details. It’s what kept them alive, but Kevin basically knew squat. One thing he could do, though, was describe the attractive woman. He wouldn’t forget those eyes or the fear she quickly reined in.

  “River,” Kevin told him.

  “Did you say river?” Rick asked.

  “Yes. River. Like in the Mississippi.”

  “First or last name?”

  The question stopped Kevin. He’d given her his first name. He’d assumed she had responded with the same. Shit. He hadn’t asked.

  “I think it’s her first.”

  “You’re not giving me much to work with,” Rick said. “What did this River look like?”

  Kevin slipped his shirt over his head then leaned against the grill of his Silverado. As he did, he imagined the woman standing in front of him. “Five-foot-two or three. Long, dark brown hair—almost black. It was tied in a ponytail. Blue eyes the color of ice. They’d be hard to forget.”

  Rick jotted down some notes then waited for Kevin to continue.

  “She was wearing a snug fitting tan tank top and brown shorts. There is a three-inch scar on her right arm. I’d say she was around one hundred and twenty pounds.” He mentally scanned the rest of her body. Bad move. He was getting hard just thinking of her which didn’t make a damn bit of sense. She was a stranger, and one he’d probably never see again. Besides, since his fiancé had run off and married another man, he been in a self-imposed moratorium where women were concerned, at least while he remained in the Army. Deployments screwed with relationships. Why was his mind suddenly going in that direction?

  Feet. Think of her feet. “She wore cheap, white flip-flops. Her toenails were polished red.”

  He remembered her hands. Short, unpolished nails. No rings. Why couldn’t she have been wearing a wedding ring? That would have dampened his interest.

  Rick pulled onto the beach next to Kevin’s truck.

  “You’re not giving me much on the attacker, but the woman certainly made an impression on you,” Rick commented as he slammed the door to his vehicle.

  “She stuck around longer than the asshole did,” Kevin said, scowling at his friend.

  Rick gave him a questioning glance before directing his attention to the beach. “Is that where the assault took place?” He pointed to an area of disturbance in the otherwise smooth sand.

  “I saw them from the water and got to the beach as fast as the wind would carry me. The wind also determined my landing spot which was down near those trees.” Kevin indicated the small grouping of Australian pines on the otherwise shadeless beach. “I shouted at him before my feet hit the sand. That’s when the guy took off. She was pounding on him pretty good, but she was no match for him. He could have easily knocked her out and grabbed the backpack.”

  “You sure that’s what he wanted?” Rick asked, as they stood over the spot on the beach where the action had taken place. “The pack?”

  “That was my impression. Even with her counter attacks he stayed focused on the bag.”

  “Any idea what was in the backpack?”

  Kevin glanced over the water, replaying the conversation with River. She’d given nothing away except for the flash of fear in her hypnotic eyes. “I don’t know what he thought was in it, but there was nothing of value in her pack. I opened it to get a bottle of water to rinse the sand out of her eyes. The man had kicked up a lot of it when he took off.” Kevin didn’t mention the gun. He didn’t know if she had a permit. Why should he care one way or the other?

  “What was she doing?”

  “What most people do on Sanibel. Looking for shells.” Sanibel was known for its shelling. The island’s geography made it a landing spot for all varieties. Kevin inspected the base of the protruding stone she’d scraped her cheek on during her struggle. As he suspected, a small, plastic Zip-loc bag, half-filled with an assortment of miniscule shells was caught up against its rough side. Her finds from this morning. He picked it up even though he had no way of knowing how to return it to her.

  Rick glanced over the area again. “Not much I can do. I’ll report it to the Lee County Sheriff’s office. They might add a patrol to the causeway.”

  “No other reports of purse snatchers or assaults along the bridge or on the island?” Kevin asked his friend as they moved toward their vehicles.

  “Not on Sanibel. I’ll ask the Sheriff’s office, but they would have reported any incident on the causeway to us.”

  “Looks like you’re done for the day,” Rick commented, indicating the board in the back of Kevin’s truck.

  “I’d planned to leave once the beach started to fill up. This simply m
oved up my timetable a bit,” Kevin told him. “If you hear anything, will you let me know?”

  “I will, but don’t hold your breath. We got nothing,” Rick said, walking back to his vehicle. “Gib might know this mysterious woman. If she’s as stunning as you described and she’s staying on the island, it’s unlikely she’s missed his attention.”

  As he watched Rick pull out onto the causeway, Kevin thumped his fisted hand against the steering wheel. Why hadn’t he gotten the woman’s full name? How the hell would he find her? He wanted to check on her status. That cut on her cheek was small but needed attention. He suspected she was too stubborn to have taken his warning seriously.

  She handled herself well, though. She was tough. Hell, she’d been kicking the shit out of the man before Kevin hit the beach. He glanced at the plastic bag of shells. Damn it. Why did he care? She’d brushed the incident off as if it wasn’t a big deal, but he’d seen the flash of fear in those eyes when she glanced at the surrounding beach. He needed to find her.

  Checking with Gib was a decent idea. Kevin doubted their friend knew every woman on the island, but it wasn’t outside the realm of possibilities. Gibson McKay attracted women. Plain and simple. Whether it was his good looks, charm, his genuine interest in everyone he met or his wicked sense of humor, women adored him. He’d stop to see Gib after he reconnoitered the area.

  He’d also visit his former lieutenant. Steve Brody had opened up a security and investigations business on the island It was a long shot, but perhaps he or Troy, who now worked with Steve, would have some advice on how to begin a search for the vanishing woman.

  With a partial plan in place, Kevin pulled out onto the road.

  4

  After going through her condo a second time, River returned to the workroom. She studied the unfinished mask—its hollow eyes staring back at her. She’d didn’t want to touch it. The mask now spooked her.

  Instead, she’d call her aunt and get that conversation out of the way. She immediately felt guilty for her hesitation to place the call, along with her plans to cut it short. She loved her aunt. The woman had rearranged her life to care for River after the murders, but Aunt Amy’s constant concern for her had begun to wear on River. It had been hard to tear free of the apron strings her aunt had woven around her.