Backrush

by Jana DeLeon

  “Never married. No kids. No family.”

  He’d delivered the statements so matter-of-factly that she stared for moment, not sure how to respond.

  “No family at all?” she asked finally.

  “The military is my family.”

  There was something about the way he said those words that made her heart clench. She might have lost her parents, but at least she had Bea. It sounded as if Luke didn’t have anyone he could rely on outside the men he served with, and that was sad.

  “I saw you paddleboarding yesterday,” she said, changing the subject. “I’ve been thinking about trying it. Is it hard?”

  “With a decent-sized board and calm waters, you shouldn’t have any problem with it if you’ve got good balance,” he said, looking relieved that the conversation had shifted to something other than personal. “I’m surprised you’ve never tried it given that you lived here before.”

  “It wasn’t really a thing back then, but now I see it everywhere…people really seem to enjoy it.”

  He nodded. “I prefer surfing, but that’s off the table for a while. But paddleboarding can be interesting, especially when you’ve got clear water to do it in, like here. You can see so much more standing than you can from a kayak.”

  “But you can store beer and snacks in a kayak.”

  He laughed. “You’ve got me there. If you want to give it a try, I’d be happy to show you the ropes. The board came with the house rental and it’s meant for those with little to no experience. You look like you’re in good shape. You should be able to get up and go in no time. If the Gulf is too rough, we can walk across to the Sound.”

  She knew she should refuse the offer. The last thing she wanted to do was give him the impression that she was available for anything beyond being casual acquaintances. And if she was being honest, she liked Luke far more than she wanted to. The more time she spent with him, the harder it was to ignore the attraction. But even if she was ready to invest herself in a relationship—and there was absolutely no way that was the case—Luke was the last person she should take a chance on.

  Whenever he got medical clearance, he’d go back to duty and based on his description, that meant leaving the country often and for who knew how long. Alayna knew women managed relationships every day with that complication, but she didn’t think it was something that would work for her. It was better to leave things as they were now. Surface level. That way the attraction she felt couldn’t turn into hurt later on. She’d had enough loss to process, both recently and in the past. But instead of issuing the ‘no’ she should have, her mouth completely betrayed her common sense.

  “I might take you up on that,” she said. “If you have the time, I mean.”

  “All I’ve got is time. If you’re free tomorrow and the weather’s good, just come over and we’ll give it a go.”

  “Thanks, but I hate to just pop in. If I could get your phone number, then I could call first if I decide to go for it. I mean, if you don’t mind my having your number.”

  “Of course. I should have offered it already anyway.”

  She handed him her phone and he put in his number, then she called it and he logged hers.

  “Now that you have my number, if you run into any issues over there, give me a call,” he said. “I know it’s Bea’s house, but if I can save her the aggravation of a leaky sink or weather-stripping on a door or whatever, I’m happy to help out. She’s a nice lady, though I got the impression she was kinda hitting on me when I signed the rental agreement.”

  Alayna laughed. “She is nice, and she probably was flirting with you. Bea has never had a problem going for what she wants.”

  “It was flattering but a little unnerving.”

  “You should have heard her when I told her about your gun and boxers.”

  He groaned. “I don’t think I want to know.”

  She smiled and relaxed back in her chair. It had been a long time since she’d enjoyed a meal out with good company. She hadn’t even been certain she was capable. And really, what could it hurt to share some lemonade and a pizza, or let him show her how to paddleboard? It wasn’t as if she were making promises. She wasn’t even making passes.

  She’d leave that to Aunt Bea.

  Chapter Ten

  As soon as Mateo saw Alayna drive away, he called his associate. Aboard a boat anchored in the Sound, Mateo had a decent view of the front of the beach cottage. He’d seen the moving truck arrive this morning with the boxes and had spotted her through the kitchen window, unpacking. That meant everything she’d brought from New York was now inside. If Alayna had what the client was looking for, it was in the house.

  “She left a couple minutes ago,” Mateo said when his associate answered. “Do you have eyes on her?”

  “Yeah,” his associate Carlos said. “I’ve got a clear view from the motel window. She just pulled in. Parked in front of the pizza joint across the street.”

  Mateo frowned, weighing his options. If she’d called in an order, she wouldn’t be gone long enough for him to access the house. And while he preferred to do that sort of thing under the cover of night, her habit for sticking inside after sundown made it difficult. At least as long as his orders were to maintain secrecy.

  “Can you see inside?” Mateo asked.

  “Sort of. She’s standing at the counter talking to a man and a woman. The guy is the one who lives next door. I don’t recognize the woman.”

  “Are they waiting to be seated or is she picking up an order?”

  “No one has addressed them yet. Hold on. It looks like the other woman is leaving and the target and the guy are moving to a table.”

  This was it. If he was going to make a move, he had to do it immediately.

  “Call me when she leaves,” Mateo said. “And I mean the second you spot her near the door. Don’t move from that window. Don’t even blink.”

  Carlos would follow instructions. That was the advantage of having a young associate who was still afraid of you. While he couldn’t yet pull his weight in some ways, Mateo didn’t have to worry about Carlos questioning his orders or simply choosing to do something different. He shoved the phone in his pocket and hurried down the ladder and to the back of the boat where the WaveRunner was secured.

  The remote location of the beach house had both positive and negative aspects to it. On the positive side, there were fewer people around to observe something out of the ordinary, like the same boat cruising the Sound. On the negative, it was harder to blend and he couldn’t stay anchored across the way from the cottages without someone eventually noticing.

  The marina had available slips and they offered a clear view of the main road. He’d be able to sit on the deck and see if Alayna drove into town and if she accessed the bridge to go to the mainland. It was something he’d look into first thing tomorrow because that way, he could dismiss his associate in the motel. Mateo preferred to work alone.

  He boarded the WaveRunner and headed for the shore. It was a short walk across the dunes and the road to Alayna’s house. If she was eating dinner, he figured he had at least an hour, maybe a bit more. But as soon as she left the restaurant, he had to get out of the house and back across the dune before she spotted him. That was another downside of the location—no place to hide.

  He beached the WaveRunner and grabbed a small towel from the storage box before hurrying across the dune to the house. He wiped the sand and water from his feet and tucked the towel in a palm bush close to the front door. He’d procured a copy of the house key long before Alayna left New York. The client figured as soon as the FBI turned her loose, she’d head home. It had been child’s play to sneak into the aunt’s house and make a copy of the keys to her two beach houses, her own home, and her business.

  He opened the door and let himself inside, figuring he’d start in the bedroom. Her closet displayed a surprisingly meager amount of clothes for a woman her age, but then he supposed the fashionable wear he’d seen her sporting in
the city didn’t have much place on the island. He started with the boxes on the shelf but found only old birthday cards and photos. Then he went through each garment, inch by inch, feeling every seam to see if something could be hidden inside. Afterward, he checked her shoes.

  He felt the back of the closet for any movement, just in case there was a secret cubby, but the walls were solid, as was the floor. When he was satisfied that nothing was hidden there, he turned his attention to the dresser and started his search again, even removing the drawers and looking for something taped underneath. The client was convinced that if Alayna was in possession of the item, she had no idea about it. Mateo didn’t agree. The client didn’t think Patterson had been stupid enough to let his girlfriend in on his crimes, much less ask her to secure anything for him, especially something so important.

  Mateo, on the other hand, thought Patterson was plenty stupid. At least stupid enough to get caught. But until he could convince the client otherwise, his orders were to treat the girlfriend as an unknowing participant. The less she knew, the better, which meant his directive was to procure the item, assuming it was there, with her being none the wiser. Mateo felt the direct approach would have been more efficient and witnesses could always be dealt with. But it did attract more attention and ultimately, it wasn’t his call.

  He searched the dresser and the nightstands and was checking between the mattresses when his phone buzzed. He pulled it out and answered.

  “She just walked out of the pizza joint,” Carlos said.

  “Got it,” Mateo said, and shoved the phone back into his pocket, cursing. The hour he’d had wasn’t enough. He’d made some progress but every time he had to leave and reenter, he had to spend some time revisiting each location to ensure things hadn’t been moved around. What he needed was a large block of time. Surely she’d leave the island at some point. All of the big retailers and grocers were on the mainland. She had to make a trip there sooner or later.

  He hurried out of the beach house, locking the door behind him, grabbed the towel out of the bush, and headed across the dune to the WaveRunner. The sun was mostly down, so he didn’t worry about her spotting him on the Sound. The noise carried, of course, but plenty of locals fished at night. An engine running on the water wouldn’t alert anyone and since sound carried far over water, the fact that someone could hear the vehicle but not see it wasn’t an issue either.

  By the time he boarded the boat and headed up to grab his binoculars, she had pulled into the drive. As she got out of her car, she gave the neighbor guy a wave and went inside. The neighbor lingered a bit, watching her enter her house before going inside his rental. Mateo frowned. The neighbor could be a problem. He had that cadence that only military sported and if he attached himself to the woman, protector mode could kick in if he thought she was threatened.

  The potential for complications frustrated him, although he should have anticipated this. Alayna Scott was an attractive woman. The neighbor would have to be blind not to notice. Time to do a bit of research on him, just to determine the level of the threat. Luke Ryan. He had a name. It was time to get more.

  He pulled out his phone and dialed. The client answered on the first ring.

  “I managed an hour inside,” Mateo said. “But no luck. She returned before I could cover the entire place. I need more time to do a thorough look. If you’re ready to let me handle things differently—”

  “No,” the client cut him off. “If you go that route and don’t find what we’re looking for, you alert the FBI to start looking at her all over again. I want this to happen without her ever knowing you were there.”

  “If she’s hiding it for Patterson, she’s going to notice if it’s missing.”

  “I’m not convinced on her culpability. And even if that’s the case, she’s hardly going to report it to the FBI if it’s gone. And she has no access to Patterson. I’m working on something that should give us better information.”

  “And if she’s in on it?”

  “Then we’ll do things your way. But for now, you’re a ghost.”

  Mateo slipped the phone back into his pocket and stared out at the tiny bits of light creeping through the blinds of Alayna’s house. His way was better. Faster. He hoped the client figured that out soon. The money was really good, but there were other jobs. More interesting jobs, where he was allowed to handle things his own way.

  As soon as Alayna stepped into the house, she knew something wasn’t quite right. She started to turn around and rush back out to the safety of her car, but common sense won out and she pulled her Mace from her purse. The door had been locked and upon inspection, showed no sign of tampering. She knew the windows were locked. Even though she never opened them, she checked the locks every night and before she left the house.

  A quick glance told her that nothing appeared out of place, so what had set her off? She walked slowly through the house to the bedroom, the Mace held out in front of her, then let out a huge sigh of relief when she found the house was completely empty. Because she knew she’d never be able to settle down if she didn’t check, she did a walk-through and tested all the doors and windows. Everything was battened down.

  She blew out a frustrated breath and grabbed a bottle of wine from the refrigerator. She had to stop doing this—freaking herself out. It wasn’t conducive to moving forward. In fact, quite the opposite; it kept her mired in the past. Warren wasn’t coming after her. All the experts had agreed on that. In fact, they’d been almost dismissive about it. As if she didn’t really matter, and perhaps that was true. She hoped it was true. But even the FBI’s reassurances hadn’t been able to quell the feeling that this wasn’t over.

  But maybe it was her testimony that still had her on edge. Maybe once she was done with the trial, she wouldn’t have these feelings that could never be substantiated. She poured herself a glass, grabbed a container of strawberries, and went to sit in the living room, hoping the television could provide some distraction.

  Her cell phone sat on the small table next to her, mocking her with its presence. She took a big sip of wine and sighed. She owed Agent Davies a phone call. Part of her ‘release’ from New York had been on the condition that she check in once she arrived in Florida and every two weeks after. She should have called yesterday, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it. Hadn’t wanted to taint this place with the stain of New York.

  But it was already tainted. Because she was here.

  Before she could change her mind, she grabbed the cell phone and dialed. Maybe she’d luck out and he’d be having dinner with friends or be sleeping or out with a woman. But she wasn’t surprised when he answered on the first ring. Davies had struck her as someone who went beyond workaholic into slightly obsessed with his work. She knew the look. She’d worn it for years.

  “Ms. Scott,” he said in his usual clipped, businesslike voice. “I trust you’ve made it safely to Florida and have settled in.”

  “I have. My things arrived today, so I’m as settled as I’m getting.”

  “Good. Then put this date on your calendar and give me a call again in two weeks.”

  “Fine. I, uh…”

  “Is there something else?”

  “Yeah, I was just wondering about Warren. I mean, he’s still in prison, right?”

  She knew bail had been denied due to the flight risk, but she couldn’t help asking.

  “Mr. Patterson is locked away and will remain there a good majority of his life,” Davies said. “In the extremely unlikely event that the situation changed, we would notify you immediately. It’s part of protocol.”

  “Of course. I remember you said…I guess I was just…never mind.”

  “Ms. Scott,” Davies said, his voice less clipped, “I assure you that Warren Patterson is no threat to you. If he were, we would have taken precautionary measures. The FBI is not in the habit of getting witnesses killed, even if they only play a minor role.”

  “Oh, I’m not saying…you know what, f
orget it.”

  “I can understand how you might feel exposed, but I’m giving you my word. Patterson isn’t making a play for you. If he did, we’d know and we’d cut him off before any plans he made could come to fruition. You’ve been given an opportunity to rebuild your life. I suggest you focus on that and leave any worry about Patterson to me.”

  Given an opportunity.

  She bristled at his phrasing. As if the DA had bestowed on her some great gift. She hadn’t done anything wrong except make a poor choice in dating. It wasn’t as though she was the only person in history to have done so.

  “Thank you,” she finally managed, although it wasn’t what she wanted to say.

  “Two weeks,” Davies said, and disconnected.

  She tossed her phone on the table and shook her head. That had been a waste of time. Well, maybe not completely. At least now she was angry instead of frightened.

  When Warren had first been arrested, she’d come under heavy scrutiny, sometimes spending an entire day being questioned. She’d been closed in a small room, and often left alone for hours on end before an agent started the questions all over again. At first, it was obvious they thought she was aware of Warren’s dealings, but as the questioning continued and her story never changed, she could see the shift in their expressions. In the beginning, they’d looked at her as if she were culpable. Before it was over, they had dismissed her as just another silly gold digger taken by a smooth-talking criminal.

  She wasn’t sure which one was worse.

  She grabbed the remote and turned up the volume on the television, then took another sip of wine. At least she had one question answered—Warren was still in prison and expected to remain there. She’d known that was the case, but it helped to hear it. Whatever had set her off earlier must have been her fear manifesting. The house was clear. No one had been inside. She had to stop letting her imagination get the best of her.

  If only she could figure out how.