Forever on the Bay--A Novel, page 24
Her heart pounded. Maybe he’d come here to find her. Which would be maddening, and yet she couldn’t help but smile at the prospect of seeing him.
Which wasn’t good, was it? How could she stand on her own with overprotective Evan in her life?
And yet now, after a time of reflection, she felt stronger. Like she could stand up to him, insist on being her own person. Maybe, just maybe...
She heard huffing and puffing from the person behind her, which meant it wasn’t Evan. She turned and saw a heavyset woman she’d met last night at the bed-and-breakfast. The woman wore a long-sleeved dress and sensible shoes and carried a big overnight bag.
“I’ve been trying to catch up with you.” The woman was breathing hard. “Can we walk together?”
“Of course we can. Looks like you’re headed for the docks as well?”
The woman nodded. “This fog has me spooked. I’ve been paranoid ever since I lost my sister.”
Cassie turned to continue walking as the woman reached her side, slowing her pace. “I’m sorry you lost your sister,” she said.
“It was terrible. A car accident.” The woman stopped, pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped her eyes. “We visited Teaberry Island as children. I thought I could handle it, thought it might even be healing, but I was wrong. It’s too hard. That’s why I decided to leave early.”
Cassie touched the woman’s arm. “I’m sorry. That’s so hard to deal with.” And she got it about how a place evoked memories. Going back to Josh’s apartment had been hard.
“You seem to understand,” the woman said. “Have you ever lost someone dear to you?”
“As a matter of fact, I have,” she said. She looked down at the gravel road, then glanced over at her walking companion. “I lost my brother.”
“You being so young, he must have been young, too. What happened?”
Did she want to talk about it? Not really, but she did want to move past Josh’s death in her mind, to really start living again, and part of that was being able to talk about it. “He was shot,” she said.
“How horrible! Were you there?”
“I was,” she said slowly.
“That must have been terrifying! Did you see the killer?”
Cassie frowned and nodded but didn’t elaborate, not liking the avid tone in the woman’s voice. This had happened a few times before: people wanted to know what it was like when a shooting happened. It was the same impulse that made people slow down and gawk at a bad traffic accident. Uncomfortable, but understandable.
To Cassie’s relief, the docks came in sight.
“Did they catch the person who shot your brother?” the woman persisted.
“No.” Cassie didn’t want to keep talking to this nosy woman, so she sped up her steps a little. Hopefully, her companion would soon get too out of breath to talk.
But now the woman kept up. “I don’t know why I feel moved to tell you this, but I do,” she said. “You need to get on with your life. You can’t dwell on the past.”
“I’m learning that.” They’d reached the dock now, and people were disembarking. Cassie would get on and sit away from the woman who’d latched on to her. With that in mind, she gestured for the woman to walk ahead.
As she watched the woman easily heft her overnight bag into the carrying rack, she frowned. There was something weird about her.
The hairs on the back of Cassie’s neck rose. When the woman sat down on a bench on one side of the boat, Cassie sat on the other side, keeping her in sight, but not close enough to talk.
There was a static sound, and then the boat captain’s voice came over the speaker. “Hurry up onboard, folks, and take your motion sickness medicine. It’s choppy out there, and this is the last crossing until this one blows over.”
Cassie studied the woman who’d followed her as she talked to the man next to her. She kept watching her surreptitiously while the boat launched into the choppy bay.
Something kept tickling her memory, making her uneasy. There was something about the woman.
Was it a woman?
That wasn’t a woman, that was a man, who’d been asking questions about Josh’s death.
Her heart pounding, she studied her phone, pretending to respond to messages, but instead, looking up the professor by name. She’d done so before, and the previous search results popped up, but now she was looking for something specific.
She scanned through the images: of him teaching, playing a pirate onstage, playing an old-fashioned founding father with a white, styled wig.
Playing a woman.
She looked across, holding up the image to put the two side by side, and all the blood left her head. She quickly snapped a photo and texted Evan.
The professor didn’t leave the area. He’s on the boat with me.
The photo was taking forever to send. Please, please let there be cell phone service out here.
She glanced up again and saw that the so-called woman was looking at her, not smiling. She, no, he, beckoned to her.
He knows I know.
She shook her head and focused on her phone, stealing peeks at him throughout the rest of the short ride. Each time she looked, he was staring at her.
Cassie tried to look calm and unconcerned, although her heart hammered.
How had he found her?
Surely, he wouldn’t dare do anything to her here on the boat, with witnesses all around. But once they got off...
Who knew what a man who’d killed her brother would do to her? Especially when she’d just acknowledged to him that she’d seen Josh’s killer?
She wanted to live. She had so much to live for. Her art, her new independence. Making Josh proud, making up for what he’d lost.
Evan.
She wanted to live, for Evan.
The boat pitched and lurched as the mainland dock came into sight. She drew in a slow breath against the panic that wanted to rise in her. Unbidden, an image of her mother rose in her mind.
Her mother had lost one child; she couldn’t lose another.
She faced front and started to plan.
* * *
EVAN REACHED THE docks just as the boat pulled in. He’d panicked when he’d gotten the message from Cassie. He’d told Oliver and they’d both tried to find someone to take him out to intercept the boat. But there were small-craft warnings and not enough time, anyway. With that option off the table, he’d called his chief and let him know what was happening. Backup was on the way.
He watched the crew tie up the boat, scanning the small crowd of passengers. His phone buzzed. “Bad accident out on the highway,” Earl Greene, his chief, told him. “Me and Daugherty are both here.”
Boom, there went his notion of backup.
A car horn honked, and then Avery and Oliver climbed out of an old sedan.
He jogged over to them. “I want Avery out of sight. Seeing her is likely to set him off.” He’d gotten Oliver to make a couple of calls for him, but he hadn’t intended for his son to show up here.
“She heard me trying to get a boat to take you. When I said I was coming over, she wouldn’t stay home. She drove me.” Oliver pointed. “Is that him? The one in the blue dress?”
Avery looked toward the boat, her brow creased. “That’s my professor, dressed up as a woman. With Cassie. Why is he with Cassie?”
There hadn’t been time to explain the whole story to Oliver, and of course, Avery didn’t know it all, either.
Evan looked at the professor’s face and saw ruthless intent. The kind of ruthlessness he’d rarely seen before. Maybe once, when he’d been overseas, a rebel leader ordering kids to shoot, to kill. Another time when he’d worked as a cop back in the city, on the face of an arsonist who’d loved to set fires in occupied buildings.
It was a complete devaluing of human life, and something ignited inside Evan now, just as it had in those two occurrences.
He was born, meant, called, to stop this kind of evil. It was who he was, or at least, who he wanted to be.
The two biggest reasons for him to live into that calling were right here: his son, beside him, and Cassie, coming down the ramp with the professor behind her.
The motivation for putting the past to rest and cleaning up his life seemed to make everything click into place for him. He knew what he wanted, how he intended to live from here on out.
But there was no time. “Get back in the car,” he barked at Avery, and strode toward the boat.
Cassie was walking off in front of the professor, abnormally close. Close enough that Evan could tell he had a gun on her. She saw Evan and her eyes widened; her steps faltered. On her face was a mixture of relief and fear.
He saw the moment when the professor’s eyes lit up. He was looking in the direction of Avery’s car, and Avery was...not inside. Instead, she stood arguing with Oliver.
Evan was the only barrier between three people he wanted to protect—Cassie, Avery and Oliver—and a crazy gunman who’d killed before and would kill again.
“He’s too dangerous,” Oliver yelled, and the professor’s eyes moved. Evan glanced back to see that Avery was stepping away from Oliver.
The wind gusted, pressing her loose top against her. Her pregnancy was clearly visible.
Seeing Avery pregnant would set the man off.
Evan looked back at Halofax and sure enough, the joy on his face was replaced by rage. Both the professor and Cassie were off the boat ramp now, and he jerked her to his side.
The crowd dissipated, talking and laughing, unaware of the drama in their midst. Most walking over to a mini-bus that took people to the seafood processing plant.
The professor pulled Cassie along beside him. He was marching directly toward Avery. If he’d seen Evan, he didn’t show it.
Oliver put a protective arm around Avery, and the professor’s face broke into a snarl. And then everything happened at once.
Cassie looked over at Evan, met his eyes and nodded, and the communication was wordless.
We have to go for it.
He may kill you.
He may kill Avery and all of us. We have to go for it.
She was right.
He lifted an eyebrow to say: Are you ready?
She nodded again.
He did a flying tackle while Cassie shoved the professor away from her and toward him with all her might.
Oliver pushed Avery behind him. “Stay back!” he yelled, and ran at the professor.
As a backup cruiser squealed into the lot, the gun went off.
Evan landed on the professor and knocked him hard to the ground. Cassie screamed.
And Oliver went down.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
THE TRIP TO the ER felt surreal to Evan. He rode with Oliver in the back of the ambulance, which was good because he saw for himself, and heard the EMTs confirming, that Oliver had just been grazed and there was more blood than damage.
He’d wanted to stick by Cassie, but she’d shooed him into the ambulance. “Go, be with your son, I’m fine,” she had said.
Another officer, the backup that had finally arrived, had driven Cassie to the hospital to get checked out. She’d tell her full story to that officer, who was thankfully female—he had the feeling that would be easier for Cassie. He’d called Bisky, who’d quickly offered to meet them at the hospital to provide support. It was one thing Pleasant Shores was known for—they took care of their own. And Cassie had quickly become part of the community. Avery was fine, mostly angry, so she’d ridden along with Cassie in the cruiser. She wanted to see Oliver and ascertain for herself that he was okay.
After he’d filled out the paperwork, Evan walked into the curtained cubicle. Seeing Oliver in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV, his throat got tight. Partly from worry, even though his head knew Oliver would be okay. And partly from regret, that he’d never been there for Oliver’s cuts and bruises and broken wrist and appendicitis, all of which he’d only heard about from afar.
Oliver was sleeping lightly while the doctor typed into a computer on a rolling stand.
The doctor looked up and smiled—she was someone he knew a little, from multiple visits to the hospital related to his work. “He’ll be fine,” she said. “He got lucky. There was a lot of blood but he was just grazed. If he has someone to go home with, to keep an eye on him, we can release him real soon.” She stood and typed something into the computer on the push-around stand. “I’m prescribing a mild pain reliever, but he may not even need that.”
Evan narrowed his eyes. “Not an opioid, I hope.”
She flashed a glance at him. “I can do Tylenol if that’s better.”
“That’s better.” Then he looked at Oliver, whose eyes had fluttered open. “Sorry. It’s for you to decide what kind of pain reliever you need.” When a man threw himself in front of a woman to save her, he definitely was old enough to chart his own course.
To his surprise, Oliver didn’t take offense. “Tylenol’s better,” he said, confirming Evan’s words. Then to Evan, with a rueful grin, “I never got into opioids, but there’s a first time for everything.”
After the doctor left, Evan sat down in the chair beside his son. “You showed a lot of courage out there.”
Oliver waved a hand like it was nothing, but Evan was getting to know him; he saw the telltale flush that meant the comment had pleased him.
“I’m not the greatest nurse, but I’ll do my best,” he went on, feeling his way. “I’m guessing that Avery can fill in when I’m working.”
At the mention of Avery, Oliver brightened. “Man, she’s tough,” he said. “I can’t believe that professor thought she’d give him the time of day.”
“She’s a great girl. Woman, really.”
Oliver looked down at his hands, then met Evan’s gaze. “I want to try to make a go of things with her.”
Evan nodded slowly. “Like I said, she’s great. She’s also pregnant.”
“I know.”
“You ready to fill in as a father?” Evan cleared his throat. “You sure didn’t have a good role model in that area.” Inside he was thinking, if Oliver and Avery get together, I’ll become a sort of grandfather to Avery’s kid.
Oliver shrugged. “I’d like to try. I’d definitely be the supporting actor, not the main parent, but I can learn and do my best.”
The words startled Evan. I can learn and do my best. It was the most ambitious thing he’d heard Oliver say, and all of it motivated by love for a woman. Interesting.
The machines beeped around them. In the hall, a stretcher rushed past, surrounded by scrub-clad workers.
“And it’s true. You weren’t a good father, at least in person.” Oliver said the blunt words without malice. “But you did pay child support and stayed in touch with Mom. Tried to pay for my college. I appreciate that.”
“Well...good.” It hadn’t always been easy, had kept Evan on the low side of the savings and lifestyle scale, but he’d done it gladly. The fact that Oliver had noticed and appreciated it made the sacrifice even more worthwhile.
“And I see how you are now, and I wouldn’t mind being a little bit like you,” Oliver went on. “Including going to AA. I need to.”
Evan blew out a breath. “I wondered. I can give you the schedule of meetings, let you know which ones I attend. Which would let you either come to the same meetings or avoid them.” He stood. Wished he could touch Oliver’s arm, hug him, but they weren’t there yet. So he did the next best thing. “You’re welcome to stay with me, you know. I mean, if you want to. However long you want.”
“Really?” The bald gratitude in Oliver’s voice told Evan it had been the right thing to say.
“Really. Now, go to sleep. I’m going to doze over here until they kick us out.” He sat down in a hard plastic chair in the corner of the cubicle.
He remembered the wonder of watching Ollie sleep, back when he was a baby. How he’d slip into his son’s room and sit, just watching him breathe and feeling amazed that he’d helped create a child.
He shouldn’t feel heartache right now. He should feel proud of what Oliver had done, and grateful that he was going to be okay. And Evan did feel those things.
But he’d missed so much of Oliver’s childhood. Now, right before Evan’s eyes, Oliver was turning into a man. He wanted to reach out and rewind the film, so he could take his time and savor it.
That wasn’t going to happen, of course. He took the folded blanket at the foot of Oliver’s bed and spread it, gently, over his son.
* * *
MIDAFTERNOON CASSIE CAUGHT a ride home from the hospital with Bisky.
When they reached Victory Cottage, Cassie thanked Bisky and got out of the car, every part of her body aching.
To her surprise, Bisky got out, too. “I’ll walk you in, make sure you’re okay.”
“What?” Cassie stopped and stared at the woman. Behind her, the sun was incongruously bright, the seabirds swooping, the early-spring flowers releasing their sweet fragrance.
And it was a world where evil lived. Where a man could target one woman in order to get at another, where a man could kill a beloved, good person because he wouldn’t comply with his wicked ways.
Cassie had always thought of herself as a good person, but she’d been, at a minimum, complicit in the harm that had resulted. Avery—pregnant, vulnerable Avery—had been put at risk. Oliver had actually gotten shot, because Cassie had decided she had to make a stand and be independent.
It was the thought of her mother that made her catch her breath and grab on to the porch railing. “I could’ve been killed. My mom could have lost her only living child.”
“Don’t let yourself spiral down.” Bisky took her arm and led her inside, sat her at the kitchen table. She asked where Ace was, then ran over to Avery’s to get him and brought him back. Bisky was smart to do that, because when Ace came in and jumped and licked Cassie, she started to feel marginally better.
