by Jana DeLeon
“I’ll give you the short version because the long one causes me to dwell too much, and dwelling is death to forward motion.”
“That’s true.”
“We’ll start with my parents. I’ve told you before that I didn’t have family and that’s true. My parents were estranged from their families and I never met or knew of anyone outside of them. They were a typical couple for the era. My father ran an import warehouse, and my mom was a secretary at the elementary school. We had a small house and I played Little League.”
“Sounds textbook.”
He nodded. “Until the FBI arrested my father for smuggling weapons from the Middle East.”
Alayna sucked in a breath and her hand flew up to her chest.
“I was twelve years old,” he continued. “They burst in the house and hauled him and my mother out—handcuffed them right on the front lawn in front of all our neighbors. Then the real fun began. They went at my father for a long time, but he refused to talk. Said it would seal his death warrant. So they went after my mother. Surely she knew what was going on. Warehouse managers couldn’t afford the new Cadillac he’d given her for her birthday.”
Alayna’s heart sank. She knew all too well how it felt to be the person who wasn’t believed. And she knew how desperate she was to find something, anything, to give them so that they’d leave her alone.
“But she didn’t know,” Alayna said.
“No. My father told her he’d gotten a bonus and a good deal on the car. As an adult, I look back and think maybe she should have still wondered. And maybe she did, but I don’t think so. She was a sweet woman, my mother, but not a strong one. She was one of those perpetually nice people who saw only good and elected to ignore the bad. Unfortunately, that was her undoing.”
“What happened?”
“The FBI never relented. They wanted my father’s connection in the Middle East, and they refused to believe she didn’t know anything. They pushed and harassed until she couldn’t take it anymore. So she took a bottle of sleeping pills and climbed into the bathtub.”
She could hear the anger—of the boy and the man—as he delivered those crushing words. Tears rushed into Alayna’s eyes and her mind whirled with outrage and hurt. She’d lost her parents when she was a teen and it had been a tragedy, but not like his.
“Oh my God!” she said finally. “How awful. And you were so young.”
He nodded. “After that, the FBI gave up on my father and he went to prison. He died there two years later in a knife fight with another prisoner.”
“But what happened to you?”
“I went into foster care.”
Now her tears flowed freely. When she’d lost her parents, her entire world had collapsed, but she’d had Bea to pick her up. To force her to move forward. To not only get on with her life but to thrive. But Luke had no one and that broke her heart.
“Was it as horrible as people say?” she asked.
“I didn’t suffer any physical abuse in the system, but the next six years were full of neglect. I had one family that I really liked. Where I felt almost a part of it, but the system doesn’t leave you in place for very long. The father got transferred to another state, and I wasn’t allowed to go with them. He was a nice man. A good man. He taught me to swim.”
“Have you ever tried to contact him?”
He shook his head. “It crosses my mind sometimes, but I was a small blip in his life. I’ve never seen the point, I guess. After I was released from the system, I didn’t have anywhere to go and had no direction, so I joined the Navy.”
“And the Navy became your family.”
It made sense to her now, knowing Luke’s past. The Navy had provided him with more than just a job. It had provided a home, structure, and a purpose. Then he’d connected with people and had created his own family. Different from the traditional one, but still just as important.
“Does your injury jeopardize that?” she asked.
“Yes and no. I was part of an elite team—the Navy SEALs—and I can’t be any longer.”
Her heart clenched. “But surely you’re fine. I mean, if you didn’t have a scar, I wouldn’t even know you’d had an injury.”
“Unfortunately, it appears better than it is. SEALs have to be 100 percent. Not even 99 percent is good enough. Too many lives depend on perfection. The Navy won’t take that risk, and when it comes down to it, I wouldn’t allow them to, even if they offered.”
“So that’s it? They just turn you loose? That doesn’t seem right.”
“They’ve offered me an instructor position.”
“But you don’t want it?”
He looked straight at her. “Would you rather cook or teach other people to cook?”
“Point taken. So that’s your crossroads. You’re sitting on this stretch of sand trying to figure out what to do with the rest of your life when the one thing you wanted is no longer an option. That sucks.”
He gave her a rueful smile. “We make quite the pair, don’t we?”
“You know, we sorta do. I mean, we both lost our parents at a fairly young age and to tragedy. And now we’re both in limbo with our careers, and they were not only the biggest part of our lives but part of who we are. It’s a hard place to be, especially when you never thought you would be there. Maybe that’s why I feel a connection with you even though I haven’t known you for very long.”
“Like recognizing like?”
She shrugged. “Why not? I mean, I’m not into woo-woo stuff or anything, but if we’re biologically programmed to pick up on emotions like fear and sadness, then why not uncertainty?”
“And here I was thinking the attraction was because of my big gun.”
She smiled. “Let’s just say that I’m a much bigger fan of your gun today than I was the day we met.”
He tensed just a bit. “Have you heard anything from Agent Davies?”
“No. And since the FBI considers me a non-priority, my guess is that I won’t unless I call him.”
His jaw flexed. “I don’t give a damn what the FBI thinks. They owe you. If they’d turned you loose with no stipulations, then things might be different, but as long as they’ve got you on the line, then they need to treat you like any other witness to a high-profile crime.”
“You’re right. Give me a second.”
She hurried back inside, dumped the empty glasses in the sink, and grabbed her cell phone from the counter. Then she went back outside and dialed. The phone rang for so long that she thought it was about to go to voice mail, but then Davies answered.
“It’s Alayna,” she said, shifting the phone to speaker so that Luke could hear what Davies had to say. “I wanted to see if you had more information on Warren.”
“Not at this time,” Davies said, not bothering to control the aggravation in his voice. “There’s a manhunt for him but so far, we haven’t been able to track him.”
“And Rivera’s men?”
“Rivera is claiming no connection with the men who were shot, but we know better.”
“Is there any change in my status?”
“No. And I don’t anticipate there will be. Ms. Scott, you have to trust me on this. Juan Rivera wants nothing from you because you have nothing to give. And even if Patterson wanted revenge, he’d have to get away from Rivera to execute it. The likelihood of that happening is slim to none.”
“Okay. You’ll let me know if you find him.”
“Of course.”
He disconnected and Luke shook his head. “Jesus, you had to deal with that guy for how long now?”
“Five months. I’d thought when my parents died that was the worst I’d ever feel, but dealing with the FBI proved that theory wrong.”
He nodded. “Feds aren’t exactly my favorite people.”
“I can understand why.”
“And as it seems that they’re not going to be bothered to do anything where you’re concerned, then we’ll take matters into our own hands.”
“How?”
“Starting with a security system. I have a buddy—retired military—over on the mainland who owns a security business. He’ll be able to direct us to the best equipment for the situation.”
Alayna frowned. A security system was definitely a good idea, but funds were tight and she couldn’t let Bea keep bailing her out.
“I don’t think it will cost much,” he said. “This is a small house and only one story. You can get a lot of coverage with very little equipment.”
“Okay,” Alayna said. “See what your friend says and let me know. I’ll settle things with Bea. I want to cover the cost myself.”
“I understand.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’re going to be all right. We’ll get the security system in place as soon as possible, but in the meantime, you’re going to try to act normal.”
“Ha. I don’t think I even know what that is anymore.”
“Then we’re going to figure it out.”
Bea flipped the At Lunch sign on the door, practically shoving customers back as she pulled the door shut. She locked it and headed for the counter where Nelly was pouring them shots of the whiskey they kept on hand in case of emergencies. It sat next to the gun she kept for the same reason.
“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to scream at people more in my life,” Nelly said. “What a bunch of hypocrites. We’re supposed to believe that the entire island got the hankering to read the latest romance or learn to cook or knit or develop perfect abs?”
Bea nodded and gulped back the shot of whiskey. “The only thing good about today is the profit.”
“I’ve done more verbal maneuvering today than a politician on the campaign trail. I’m exhausted.”
“That’s because you’re not a sociopath. If we were sociopaths, we could smile and lie all day long, then go out and dance all night in a club with inappropriate men.”
Nelly sighed. “I never get the good shit. I just inherited bad teeth and thin hair. One of those sociopath genes would have come in handy. Not all the time, mind you, but if you could turn it on and off.”
“Too many days like today and I’d never turn it off.”
“Preach it, woman. Well, I canceled my dentist appointment for this afternoon so I could stick around. If you plan on continuing this circus until closing time, I’ll be here.”
“You shouldn’t have canceled your appointment with the dentist just for me.”
“It’s the dentist. I was looking for a reason to cancel.”
“You just said you inherited bad teeth.”
Nelly waved a hand in dismissal. “Another five years and my teeth will be sitting in a cup on my bathroom vanity. I’m pretty sure delaying a cleaning for a week isn’t going to speed up that process.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Probably shoot one of these nosy parkers. But seriously, you know I’m here for you. Anything you and Alayna need. Which leads to my next question—what else can I do? I know I’m helping here but it still doesn’t feel like much.”
“I know. I feel the same way. I stayed with Alayna last night, but she shooed me out this morning, saying I needed to be at the store for the incoming surge. She was right, of course, but I get so frustrated not knowing what to do. Part of me wants to roll her up in Bubble Wrap, surround her with titanium, and ship her off to an unknown destination until all of this is over.”
“Leaving might not be the worst idea. Have you suggested it?”
“No. But I’m going to have to bring it up later when I see her. Warren knew where Alayna was from and when she left New York, I’m sure there was no doubt in anyone’s mind where she was going.”
Nelly’s brow creased in worry. “Maybe you can get her to stay at your place. At least there’s other houses around. It would be harder for someone out-of-place to stroll around without someone noticing. And you have a bunch of retired insomniacs on your block. They’re up all hours.”
“I already tried that, but she won’t do it. I’m sure she thinks she’d be putting me in danger if she did, and hell, who knows, maybe she would be. Not that I care, mind you.”
“Of course you don’t.”
Bea stared at the people milling around outside the bookstore and frowned. “There is one good thing,” she said. “That guy who rented the beach house from me has taken on protecting her.”
“The hottie with the boxers and the gun?”
“One and the same. I don’t know what he does for the military, but I get the impression he’s deadly as hell. And I think he’s taken an interest in Alayna beyond just empathy.”
“Is she interested in him?”
“I don’t know. I think she could be if all of this wasn’t coming down on her like a hailstorm. Anyway, when I talked with her earlier, she said he has an ex-Navy buddy who owns a security company on the mainland. He’s going to get her fixed up with a good system. That makes me feel a little better. You know I would protect her to the death, but I have the idea that Luke is far more capable of doing that than I am.”
Nelly gave her friend a hug. “Well, if you want me to stay with you for a while—just so the quiet at night doesn’t drive you crazy—you know I will. Or if you think it’s a good idea to get out of your house for a while, you’re always welcome to stay with me and Harold.”
Bea wasn’t the most emotionally demonstrative person. Unless, of course, it was happy or angry. But she felt her eyes mist up as she hugged her friend. She and Nelly had been there for each other since Nelly had landed on the island at eighteen years old. They’d connected immediately and hadn’t missed a day of talking except when Nelly went on her honeymoon.
Bea had never been more grateful for her friend than right now.
“I anticipated the drama and brought some grilled chicken sandwiches and potato salad so we wouldn’t have to go out for something,” Nelly said when she released Bea. “I know you’re probably even less hungry than I am, but maybe we can take a couple bites. At least enough to get us through this afternoon.”
“Did you cook the chicken or did Harold?”
“I did, so it’s not dry.”
“Then pass me a sandwich.”
Twenty minutes later, they’d made a dent in the sandwiches and the potato salad and were primed for the afternoon round. As they walked to the front of the store, Nelly pulled up short, her body stiff.
“What’s wrong?” Bea asked.
“Veronica Whitmore is outside.”
“No surprise there. I’m sure she’s coming to gloat.”
“You want me to run interference?”
“She’d just steamroller over you to get to me. Go ahead and open the door. Might as well get this over with.”
Bea went behind the counter while Nelly opened the door. As expected, Veronica marched right past Nelly without so much as a nod and made a beeline straight for Bea.
“Look what you’ve done!” Veronica demanded as she stepped up to the counter.
“Excuse me?” Bea said.
“Your niece has put everyone on this island in danger. She can’t be allowed to stay here.”
Bea struggled to keep her temper in check as more locals made their way into the store. “This is her home. She has as much right to be here as anyone else.”
“Maybe legally, but you owe island residents better. You had no right to put them in jeopardy by bringing her here.”
“Given that the FBI doesn’t think Alayna is in any jeopardy, I don’t see how anyone else could be. And even if someone was gunning for my niece, why would they bother with you or any other resident? I know you find this impossible to believe but you don’t matter. Not to criminals. Hell, not to most everyone on this island.”
A couple of patrons snickered, and Veronica glared at Bea.
“I have the respect of everyone on Tempest Island,” Veronica said. “Everyone but you, that is.”
“That deference you see is fear, not respect. Holding people captive by your husban
d’s position on the city council and down at the bank doesn’t create respect. It creates loathing. Most are just good at hiding it because they have to be. I’m not one of them.”
“We’ll just see about all of this, won’t we?” Veronica said. “I might not be able to force Alayna to leave but who knows how zoning might change around here for businesses on Main Street or rentals down on the beach. You might not ever respect me, but I’ll be satisfied with fear.”
Veronica whirled around and stalked out of the shop, leaving dead silence in her wake. Bea looked out at the crowd of uneasy faces and sighed.
“Everyone,” Bea said, “I know you don’t all want books, so can we just skip the pretense? I’m exhausted and can’t do another minute of this, much less hours. Alayna is fine. The FBI does not now and has never felt she was in any danger. If they did, they’d put her in witness protection. For all of those who actually care about me and my niece and aren’t just here for the gossip, there’s nothing you can do but I appreciate the offers. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some orders to place.”
Bea turned around, giving the crowd her back, and pulled up the inventory list on the computer on the desk behind the counter. All the activity had led to a sales run on certain subjects that morning and depleted the displays. She needed to replace those books and see what the new offerings were to get her order in.
“Bea?”
Tom Armstrong’s voice sounded behind her and she turned around. Tom wasn’t just people. He and his wife, Birdie, owned the ice cream shop and they’d been friends with Bea since they moved to the island over thirty years ago. Birdie was a member of Bea’s poker group, and she and Tom both regularly stood with Bea at city council meetings pushing against things that they thought wouldn’t benefit the island.
“I’m so sorry,” Tom said, looking slightly miserable. “I know you said there’s nothing we can do, but if you or Alayna need anything, you know Birdie and I are there. If you need to get out of the store for a couple days or even longer, me or Birdie would be happy to help Nelly cover.”
