All In
Pictures… good for a thousand laughs and a lifetime of memories. ~From the Mother’s Survival Diary of Melinda D.
“I do not — understand why I can’t — go too,” protested Bella. She glared at her mother’s back while Trish rinsed off a baking pan and set it into the dishwasher.
Nate bit into his second raspberry danish with typical teenage gusto. With what could only be termed a gleefully evil chortle, Greg slapped his tray, sending remnants of his scrambled egg breakfast flying through the air. A few yellow blobs landed near Jack, who lay as usual at Dan’s feet. The shepherd didn’t miss a beat, simply licked the pieces from the tile.
“We have plans of our own, Bella,” said Dan. “Remember? Your school play has rehearsal today and then the spaghetti dinner for the cast afterward. I’m going with you.”
Bella turned her mutinous expression on her father. “The play is — not fun like the — beach. I do not — want to do it — anymore.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, baby,” murmured Trish, stepping over to the table and taking her seat. “Aunt Ashley and I were both looking forward to seeing you play the Good Halloween Witch.”
Cammie laid her head on Rabbit’s thigh and stared with mournful eyes at the cream cheese danish in his hand. With his mouth full of his first bite, Rabbit stopped in mid-chew. Under the dog’s watchful gaze, he slowly finished the bite and swallowed with a gulp. Canine eyes followed his hand as he raised the pastry for a second bite. A check of the dog’s bowl near the laundry room door showed it was full to the brim with crunchy food. He took a second bite, mashing down the guilt as Cammie heaved a great sigh.
I guess I’d rather eat a danish than kibble if I was a dog.
A shroud of cheese coated the last half of the sweet pastry, and his mouth watered just thinking of it. Cammie’s chin became heavier, a not-so-subtle reminder that she was there.
Rabbit kept his head down and stole a glance in Trish’s direction through his peripheral vision. She had her head turned toward Bella. With practiced subtlety, he lowered his hand, aiming the danish in Cammie’s direction. She opened her mouth and took it in one bite, chewed once, then swallowed and licked her lips. No one appeared to notice. Rabbit reached for another danish.
“Peter Kincaid, you know I love you,” announced Trish, turning and pinning him in her Mom glare. “But that danish you just picked up had better all go down your throat this time, or you and your dog will be eating kibble in the mud room come dinner.” She smiled and grabbed a danish of her own.
Across the table, Nate snickered and mumbled, “Busted…”
Rabbit shot the kid a sarcastic smile and contemplated throwing the danish at him, but somehow he believed Trish would make good on her word, and kibble didn’t sound all that appealing.
“Hi, sorry we’re late!” sang out Lin as she entered from the hallway, JR balanced on her left hip. “Someone had a diaper blowout and we both needed a bath after that one.”
A sweet floral scent wafted on the breeze as she passed him to settle JR in the open highchair next to Greg. Rabbit inhaled slowly and deeply, losing himself in the swirl of her fresh fragrance.
“Dab-dab! Dabbit!” shrieked JR, bouncing in the highchair and wiggling eager fingers in Rabbit’s direction.
He blinked in surprise. “What?”
“Did she just curse?” asked Trish, setting her coffee cup onto the saucer with a loud clink.
“Dabbit! Dabbit!” said JR with a giggle.
“I think if you listen carefully, she’s trying to say ‘Rabbit,’ my love,” said Dan, smiling.
“Are you sure?” Trish aimed a skeptical stare at the bouncing baby. “Where would she pick that up?”
“I’ve been teaching her,” mumbled Nate into his plate.
The earth must have tilted on its axis. The colors surrounding him heightened, became more vivid. Attention shifted in his direction.
What…? Rabbit offered a weak half-smile as a kernel of heat began in the center of his chest. Indigestion, nothing more than the result of eating his danish too quickly. The ember sparked, grew larger, spreading upward, surrounding his neck, and taking his face prisoner. He didn’t do family. His own lack of success at playing the “good son” with his parents provided ample proof of that.
Then why have you been hanging out with this family?
“Dab-dab! Dabbie…” The name ended in a string of belly chuckles.
With the feeble smile still worrying at his lips, Rabbit selected a pastry from the platter and broke off a piece. When he held it out to the happy toddler, she shrieked with delight and snatched the offering. As she jammed it into her mouth, Rabbit’s heart lightened and the smile became a grin.
But even as his body stirred and entertained warm fuzzy thoughts of Lin, home, family… the memories of the websites Dan had shown him the night before doused the ember like a campfire in a cold rain.
They needed to talk. It couldn’t wait.
He glanced up as Nate stood. “I’m gonna make sure everything’s ready to go.”
He downed the last of his OJ then dropped the glass at the sink as he nearly skipped his way to the back door.
Rabbit sighed. The kid couldn’t wait either. Not without getting into a lot of explanations, and he wasn’t giving any of those without understanding exactly how much Lin’s son knew about what was going on.
So he’d have to put it all on hold until after the outing. And somehow… somehow he’d have to pull off the con of the century and pretend he was still living in blissful ignorance.
He popped the last bite of danish into his mouth and chewed without tasting. After a splash of nearly cold coffee to wash everything down, he pushed to his feet. “I’ll help the kid gear up.”
“I’ll be out as soon as I take care of JR,” said Lin, sending him a morning sunshine quality smile.
With no more than a quick nod, Rabbit split out the back door, well aware he was running away and also that he had nowhere to run. He stood trembling on the back porch and looked out over the yard. A leftover chill lingered in the gentle breeze, but the day would soon warm. It would be perfect for kayaking. But its perfection was overshadowed by puzzle pieces that had begun to fit together into an ugly picture.
He’d been responsible for causing deaths. He’d carried out orders, given them — all with deadly results. He’d killed in the course of his work, and he supposed some would consider him a — his mind stalled at the word, so he forced acknowledgment of it — a murderer.
But as hard as he tried, he simply could not associate that word with Lin. Not the Lin he knew. And yet… she’d been less than honest with him right from the start. What did that say about her?
“Maybe… that she’s scared,” he muttered into the wind. But as he trotted down the steps and across the yard toward Nate, his mind couldn’t quite erase the vision placed there by the coroner’s report. Two bullet holes drilled into a man’s chest. And he had little doubt the gun that had been used — the one the police report stated had never been found — was locked in his security box upstairs.
* * * *
A light breeze carried in the ocean-fresh scent of salty water with a slightly fishy smell. The silver car was once again parked off the alley; Peter must have retrieved it. Lin lingered on the back porch with one hand on the railing, watching Nathan and Peter scramble to gather the gear for their outing. Their movements were well-choreographed, in perfect precision with one another as Pete tossed items to Nate, who stowed them in the kayak. Both had already slipped into sleek black wetsuits trimmed with a zigzag pattern of cardinal red and electric blue along their hips and ribs. The nylon and neoprene garment hugged and emphasized Pete’s muscular frame, and even made Nathan appear brawnier. A smile tugged at her lips. The suit was so far from her son’s preferred mode of dress, he had to be committed to the endeavor if he was wearing it.
Cammie pranced circles around both of them, her stubby tail pointing straight up, the little tuft of fur on the end fluttering as she wagged her entire hind end. Her head came up and she stared at Lin for a second before she let out a loud bay of greeting.
Nathan glanced up from securing something in the kayak and stood, grinning and giving her a little wave. “Mom! Are you coming?”
“Absolutely!” Smiling back at him, Lin pushed away from the porch rail and walked down the steps, fighting to keep from bounding like a ten-year-old on the last day of school before summer.
Pete flicked a glance in her direction as she crossed the lawn, but he turned away and disappeared into the garage. That was odd. Hadn’t he seen her? He emerged again, carrying a couple of bright yellow life vests trimmed in black. Something apparently caught his interest in the garden; he kept his gaze in that direction as he crunched across the gravel to deposit the vests next to the kayak.
“Ready?” he asked, looking toward her but still not meeting her eyes.
Uncertainty was a slithering reptile uncoiling itself in her gut. Had she done something wrong? Was he regretting their interlude the previous evening? Should she ask?
Nate grabbed the life vests and held them out to her. “Can you carry these?”
“Sure.” The nylon was cool against her palm, the vests so light, if she closed her eyes she might not know she held them.
Peter busied himself fussing at something inside the front cockpit of the kayak. Blood pulsed noisily through Lin’s ears, as she bit her lip and refused to give in to the urge to sit on the ground and cry. What was wrong?
“Heyo!” called Trish from the back door.
Let her need me. Let JR be fussy so I can’t go. Lin whirled, forcing a smile. The air left her lungs as she caught sight of the green basket the B and B owner held up.
“I packed y’all some lunch!” she called out.
“Sweet!” shouted Nate, bounding across the yard with a whoop.
After some judicial repacking of the kayak, and the guys deciding to wear their life vests, they finally set off, picnic basket on Lin’s arm, and Peter and Nate shouldering the kayak. It wasn’t lost on Lin that one end had been loaded heavier and Pete took most of the burden. Nor did she miss that he had to maneuver rather awkwardly to accommodate their height difference.
As they stepped off the boardwalk, Lin stopped short and took in the surf with dismay. Far from the lazy rush across the sand she’d grown accustomed to, foamy one-foot waves assaulted the shore while farther out the choppy water showed white.
“Are you going very far out?” she asked, dismayed at the mouselike squeak in her voice.
“Aw, Mom, it’s not that bad…” Rolling his eyes, her son came about as close to whining as he ever had. He and Pete eased the kayak from their shoulders and set it on the sand. “Let’s just see what happens…”
With a joyful yip, Cammie raced for a flock of seagulls near the water’s edge.
How well her son knew her. A little cajoling usually got his way. Not this time. Not without reassurance. “Peter, how much experience do you have with kayaking?”
“I used to go out on Lake Michigan with some buddies every weekend.” He shrugged, casting his gaze at the ocean. “It’s been a while but—”
“Been a while?” Her legs threatened to buckle. “How long?”
“Mom…” warned Nate in a low voice that wavered slightly.
Pete shuffled his feet in the sand and looked toward the water. “A while.”
“Come on!” Nate nudged the kayak with his foot. “At least let’s see if it floats.”
Nodding, Pete kept his gaze averted and moved toward the craft
“Peter!” Lin seized his arm and jerked him back. “I said… how. Long. Has. It. Been?”
With a heavy sigh, Pete met her eyes. His lips curled up on one side in a weak half-smile. “Ten years.”
A long groan burst from Nathan, and he gave one of his whole-head eye-rolls. “Come on, Mom. Nothing’s gonna happen.”
No one spoke. The two guys seemed to be holding their breaths. Goodness, they had formed a bond, hadn’t they? A motorboat droned in the distance. Seconds ticked by. When Peter glanced down, Lin followed his gaze. Her hand seemed unnaturally pale against his skin-clinging wetsuit. Warmth seeped into her face, and she yanked her hand back.
Cammie’s barking drew closer as she raced back in their direction. Gulls screeched and rose into the air like popcorn. As if she had made it a personal goal to clear the birds from the beach, she circled around and arrowed in on a handful that hadn’t flown off on her first pass. With passengers squealing in delight, the motorboat whizzed past, spraying a plume of water toward the shore. The wake rolled in and crashed over the packed sand.
Lin looked from the active surf to the kayak and then up into Pete’s face, raising her eyebrows but saying nothing.
He stared long and hard, his expression unreadable, almost as if he were trying to discern something in her face.
Heat built in her chest then exploded into her neck and cheeks like lava from a volcano. What was he looking for? Did he think he could intimidate her into backing down? Well, she wouldn’t. Not when the safety of her son was concerned.
“The waves are a non-issue,” he said finally, motioning to the kayak.
A wide grin broke over Nate’s face, and he let out a whoop as the two of them crouched down and then hefted the kayak onto their shoulders again and stood.
“Where we goin’?” asked Nathan.
Peter pointed up the beach. “The other side of the lighthouse. There’s a tidal creek up there. Most of the time it’s not much more than a trickle, but it opens into a good-sized pond. Shouldn’t be any chop there.”
Too stunned to move, Lin stared after them. The man was as crafty as a fox. He’d had a safe plan all along. You should have trusted him. But that was the point, wasn’t it? Trust didn’t come easily of late, and she had yet to trust him with all of their secrets.
Cammie’s bark shook Lin from her musing. Peter and Nathan were already several yards up the beach, and she had to trot to catch up.
* * * *
“You don’t go kayaking without getting wet,” Rabbit said as he and the kid lowered the craft into the water. He gave it a little test bounce, sending ripples across the pond. “Now, you ride really low in the water — it’s not like a canoe or a rowboat.”
As he went over the instructions, he ticked off items on his mental checklist. Nate listened with rapt attention, sometimes breaking in to ask a question, but mostly nodding his understanding. They’d gone over a lot of the instructions in the last couple of days, but it was always different in the water.
Lin stood off to the side, watching but saying nothing. Rabbit tried not to look at her, tried to focus his attention on the task of teaching Nate about kayaking. The pond had been Nick’s suggestion. The perfect place for a test run. But it had been impossible to resist teasing Lin earlier when she was freaking about the surf.
Movement in his peripheral vision drew his eye. What was she doing now? Keeping his head ducked, he angled a surreptitious glance in her direction. The sun flashed from a bit of electric blue in her hand. She held it up in his direction and giggled as she pressed a button on top. Where the devil did she get a camera?
Her giggle rang out as he swiveled to face her. “Borrowed it.” Apparently she read minds. She pressed the button again. “Trish warned me you hate having your picture taken.”
He did. And he flinched as she snapped another one.
“You ruined that one,” she grumbled, pursing her lips into a girlish pout.
Lips… pink lips… full lips… pouty lips. Kissable lips. Rabbit’s heart slammed against his chest. He couldn’t put this special lady together with the intel Conway had shown him the night before. It just didn’t add up. Not even close.
“We going out or not?” called Nate.
“Yeah…” With reluctance, Rabbit turned back to the kayak. It would be hard to keep his mind on the task at hand when all he wanted to do was take off with Melinda Doyle McKinley and get the truth out of her once and for all — in her own words. Keep your focus, man. It won’t help if you end up drowning her kid. He reached out and steadied the kayak. “It’ll be tricky getting in, but I’ll hold it steady.”
Once Nate was in, Rabbit waited for him to secure his spray skirt before maneuvering himself into the craft. Cammie pranced along the shore, yipping and whining. The entire time, Rabbit was intensely aware of the subtle clicking of the digital camera in Lin’s hand. He shot her an exasperated glare but she merely returned it with a sweet smile and took another picture.
“Give it up, dude,” suggested Nate, shaking his head. “You won’t win.”
Yes, he was beginning to get the same feeling. Lin was a force all her own, one that combined a mother’s love with flat-out determination. Rabbit used his paddle to push them away from the shore, sending the kayak cutting through the still water, pushing ripples before the bow. As the tiny waves licked at the bank where Lin and Cammie waited, Rabbit became aware that he didn’t want to win against her. He wanted — needed to win with her. Whatever had happened, whatever her explanation, he was on her side. The stakes had risen to mind-boggling levels.
But he was all in.