Inside Straight
Don’t ever, ever, EVER go anywhere with strangers! ~From the Mother’s Survival Diary of Melinda D.
Lady Antebellum blared promises of a shining sun and silver linings from an overhead speaker as Rabbit approached the service desk. The gun tucked into the small of his back beneath his shirt poked into him like a sharp stick. It wasn’t loaded, but it would still count as a concealed weapon. With no time to search the car, Rabbit could only hope no other surprises awaited.
“Even if you have to go to Atlas Auto Supply up the street for the parts, I’d appreciate you getting it done.” He slid the key and a silver credit card across the counter toward Bill. “That’s got a three grand limit. Try not to go over fifteen hundred, okay?”
Bill reeled backward, his jaw hanging open. “Fifteen bills on that piece of — uh… on your wife’s car?”
Rabbit smiled. If she was really my wife, she wouldn’t be driving that piece of trash and I sure as crap wouldn’t be shelling out even one bill on the blasted thing. He offered an apologetic shrug. “What can I say? It was her first car and she doesn’t want to part with it.” He used the electronic pen to sign off on the repairs then collected the card and started for the door. “Oh, and see if you can do anything about the burning oil, okay? Maybe a tune-up?”
“Uh… sure,” Bill mumbled, scratching his head. “It’s your money you’re piddling away.”
Rabbit strode to the back of his car and popped the trunk. It took only a few seconds to secure the gun under the spare tire. Then he slammed the lid closed and climbed behind the wheel. Nate grinned at him from the passenger seat.
Lin passed the cell phone forward. Looking over his shoulder, Rabbit locked onto her gaze and cocked an eyebrow. “Questions answered?”
One side of her mouth twisted into a wry smile. “I’m satisfied we’re relatively safe with you. Mrs. Conway seems to be your fan.”
Relatively safe… Rabbit winced. Ouch. Probably a good thing he couldn’t think of a quick comeback. Of course, that might have something to do with his preoccupation with the weapon now resting in the trunk.
The engine growled the second Rabbit turned the key, and Nate’s grin widened. Rabbit eased into first and pulled onto Lejeune Boulevard. He glanced over his shoulder as he made the turn. Tension radiated from Lin as she stared out the side window, but she said nothing.
* * * *
Oh, what was she doing, letting a complete stranger cart them off to an unfamiliar place? She’d had no time to plot an escape route other than the way they’d come, and unless she stole Peter Kincaid’s car, they had no means of leaving on their own anyway. Tingles of apprehension raced along all of her nerve endings, and Lin began to tremble uncontrollably as adrenaline punched through her system.
She hadn’t spoken since asking if her car would be okay parked at the gas station, considering Bill wouldn’t be working on it after all. Pete had given her a terse answer about everything being taken care of, and then he and Nate had chattered incessantly about cars and engines as they drove. Apparently neither of them missed her absence from the conversation.
The beachfront neighborhood was old, with many of the homes on stilts, but it was high-end and a little intimidating, nothing at all like the cluster of houses near the Tidewater. As Peter brought his car to a stop, Lin scouted along the beach. The road between sand and houses dead-ended into a grassy area from what she could see. The street that ran through town seemed to go on for a bit, though. Did it also dead-end? Or was there another way out? The sign just off the causeway had read Lookout Island, so it was possible the causeway was the only way on or off.
Not good. Not good at all. Her stomach quivered. We shouldn’t have come. She glanced at JR, sound asleep, a little flushed from the heat of the sun streaming through the back window. Maybe she could claim the toddler was ill.
Before she could say a word, Nate released his seatbelt and pushed his door open. Lin rubbed her temples. He was so excited to get out of their cooped-up motel room. It would work. She’d make it work. This time, anyway. Then she’d be firm about no further outings with Mr. Peter Kincaid.
The seat in front of her was abruptly pulled forward, and Lin jumped away from the movement with a little cry of surprise. Slowly, she uncurled her body from around JR’s car seat. “S-sorry… you startled me.”
“You looked a million miles away.”
Ignoring him, she unbuckled JR and gave a gentle shake. “Hey, sweetheart… we’re here.”
Drowsy blue eyes blinked, and JR’s face cracked into a snaggle-toothed grin. Lin shifted in the seat and grimaced at the pins-and-needles racing into her toes. She blew out an exasperated breath. Great. Her feet had fallen asleep on top of everything else. One at a time, she gave each a little shake as she struggled to stand up, pointedly ignoring Kincaid’s outstretched hand. Then she reached back inside to help her little one.
By the time she got to her feet, a youngish woman with flowing golden hair and a curvy figure was picking her way around a toy-strewn yard. “Hi there!” she called out. “You must be Lin.”
Some of Lin’s tension eased as she recognized the voice from the phone call. “Trish, right?” Though Lin had pictured her a bit older, the friendly smile on Trish Conway’s face matched the warmth in her voice. In another lifetime, they would have developed a fast friendship.
Sadness welled, and she sighed. Another lifetime.
“Come on around to the side of the house. It’s shady, and you can rest while I get something to drink. Lemonade? Sweet tea?”
Almost in a state of shock, Lin picked up JR and allowed herself to be led off, dimly aware of Nate and Pete Kincaid trailing at a slower pace.
“How old is your little boy?” asked Trish as Lin sat in one of the white Adirondack chairs arranged in a half-circle beneath a tall magnolia tree.
“Oh, um…” She ran her hand over the fine carrot-colored hair that spiked upward at various angles. “Just… just over a year.” She’d better get a grip and stop stuttering. People knew their children’s birthdays and how old they were supposed to be. “The time flies so quickly when they’re little.”
Trish nodded. “No kidding. My little guy’s just over two. I wonder how they’ll play together.” Right on cue, baby chatter erupted from the monitor clipped at her waist, and she chuckled. “I guess we’re about to find out.” She glanced at Nate. “Would you mind helping me for a second? Nathan, is it?”
“Yes, ma’am. Nate.”
“Nate, I need to get my son up, and I’d sure appreciate some help bringing drinks out for your mom and Peter.”
Kincaid winced at the name, and Lin hid a chuckle with a soft cough.
Nate caught her glance, asking with his eyes what he should do.
She nodded to him and smiled at Trish. “That sweet tea sure sounded like a winner.” As her son followed their hostess across the lush lawn, Lin leaned back in the chair and sighed. “It’s nice here. Thank you for bringing us.”
Pete didn’t answer. Had he fallen asleep? But when she leaned forward, he was watching her, his expression locked down and unreadable.
“Is something wrong?” she challenged, dreading his answer.
Slowly, he shook his head. “Don’t think so.”
“You don’t think the gas station will have my car towed, do you?”
“Nope.”
“Because I know you aren’t supposed to leave your car just anywhere, and I know he gave permission, but that was when he thought he’d be working on it, and now that he’s—”
Pete made an impatient slicing motion in the air. “He is working on it.”
“What?” Lin sat forward, nearly dumping JR onto the ground. “But you said you’d take care of it… I can’t afford— I need a phone. I have to call and tell him to stop.”
“Relax,” said Pete, sinking into the chair and stretching out his long legs. “I did take care of it. We can call it a loan. A long-term loan. You can’t drive the thing like it is. It’s not safe.”
Irritation bristled through her. “That’s not—” She sagged. —your call. Could she sound any more ungrateful?
Pete stared at her, his coffee-and-cream eyes intense, almost fierce, but he said nothing.
“Why?” whispered Lin. “Why would you do something like that? We’re strangers.”
One side of his mouth twisted upward. “Good to know… since for a while there I found myself married to you.”
The heat swamping her face had nothing to do with the sunshine poking through the leaves overhead. “I… I, um, guess I owe you an explanation.” When he only regarded her in silence, she went on, willing the quaver from her voice but not entirely succeeding. “It just slipped out. It’s always easier t-to keep people — men — from trying to… to pick me up or… thinking I need…” Inwardly, she cringed at the lame explanation. “…rescued somehow.”
Pete snorted outright. “I’m sure Bill would feel honored to know you were afraid he wanted to pick you up.” Still snickering, he rubbed the knuckles of one hand back and forth across his lips. Whether to wipe away his smile or to keep from speaking, Lin had no way of knowing. But the smile had definitely disappeared when he dropped his hand.
She held his steady stare with one of her own, but in the end, she got the feeling she’d somehow failed to measure up in his estimation, and she dropped her eyes. “You shouldn’t be so quick to judge people,” she mumbled, suddenly on the defensive. “You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me.”
Stop it! You’re challenging him!
Pete’s harsh laugh exploded into the space between them. “And you’re not making it any easier to get to know you.”
JR sat up, rubbing at sleepy eyes. “Ju!”
Automatically, Lin reached for the diaper bag she normally kept at her feet. Only this time it wasn’t there. She’d left the stupid thing in Kincaid’s car. She cursed under her breath.
JR giggled and tried to form the same word.
“Shhh…” Lin touched two fingers to the toddler’s lips. “Let’s not say everything Mama says.” She glanced across to the yard at the silver car and sighed.
“I’d offer to get whatever it is you want…” Pete laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back. “But that might be construed as rescuing you…”
“Don’t worry about it,” snapped Lin, struggling to push herself out of the low chair. “I’ll manage just fine on my own. I always do.” She settled JR on her hip. “And don’t worry about the car repairs. I’ll figure that out, too.”
* * * *
Rabbit blew out a long breath as he watched Lin stalk across the lawn to his car. Yeah, sweetheart, I have no doubt you will figure something out. In fact, it was becoming painfully evident that she’d been figuring things out for quite some time. He resettled himself in his chair and closed his eyes, still wondering what kind of trouble the young mother was in.
What are you doing, man? It’s not your job to save the world one messed up babe at a time. He’d always worked on the big picture. Besides, when the wizards granted him clearance for duty, odds were he’d be shipping out as soon as he got attached to a unit. Now, why did that thought hold less appeal than it had only a few days earlier?
A sharp kick to the bottom of one foot interrupted his musings. “Peter, what are you thinking, letting your friend fend for herself?” asked Trish.
He cracked one eye and looked up. She stood in front of him, Greg balanced on her hip, eyes blazing.
He curled his upper lip in disgust. Too much mom energy in the air. Well, she might be a mom, but she wasn’t his mom, so she could stop looking at him with that censure in her gaze. He shrugged. “She didn’t want help.”
Trish released an impatient sigh. “She’s independent and used to doing things for herself. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t want help.” Her lips turned upward in a welcoming smile as Nate approached with a tray and gestured to the round table surrounded by four curved benches. “You can set that on the umbrella table here. Thanks.”
Rabbit eyed the pitcher of tea and noted the tall stack of cups. “You expecting more company?”
“Uh huh.” She nodded absently, barely paying him any attention. “Dan and Bella should be back from the beach soon. And Nick and Ash are coming over with the twins.”
Whoa! Way too much mom energy was about to explode in the atmosphere.
Nate stepped away from the picnic table and stared with longing toward the water.
A get-out-of-jail idea broke, spreading a grin over Rabbit’s lips. “Hey, kid. We’re about to be invaded by the diaper crew. What do you say to a little beachcombing, just the two of us? The storm last night probably tossed up some cool stuff.”
Nate nodded eagerly, but his eyes slid toward his mom. Of course. They’d have to ask her, and she held the power to put the kibosh on the whole thing — if she got the chance.
Rabbit shrugged. “Don’t sweat your mom. She’ll be okay with Trish here, and we won’t go far.”
After a last look at his mother, Nate shrugged.
Smiling, Rabbit pushed to his feet and stretched then took off at a lazy pace toward the boardwalk. They walked without talking, their feet making soft scuffling sounds on the weathered wooden planks. Tall beach grass quickly encroached from both sides when they hit sand, nearly covering the path in spots. The storm the night before had eradicated all traces of beach-goers’ footprints except for two human sets and some dog tracks that angled off to the left. That would be Major Conway with his Seeing Eye dog walking with his seashell-loving daughter.
Rabbit gestured to the right. “The best stuff gets tossed up out this way, away from the breakwater.”
The kid headed to the right with a grunt. Not in the mood to be talkative at the moment, it seemed. He’d been more animated over the video game. But that had been before his mom had returned from work as the motel maid.
Questions tumbled over themselves in Rabbit’s mind as they trekked toward the crashing surf. So many things he didn’t know about the little family, so many things he wanted — maybe even needed — to know. But instinct told him he’d get no answers by grilling Nathan, and the idea left a bad taste anyway. He’d have to wait the kid out, listen for clues.
And hope they had the luxury of time on their side. The itchy sensation at the back of his neck told him they probably didn’t.
He pushed aside a spiky beach plant that resembled a cactus of some kind and stepped into a sandy clearing. An old tire lay half-buried in the sand. A couple of dead fish had been trapped in the drying seaweed at the water’s edge. Thankfully those were downwind.
“Sweet!” Nate quickened his pace, bounding through the beach grass like a gazelle. “Check this out.”
A flash of orange beckoned from amid the reeds along the rocky portion of the shore. Someone was missing a two-person fiberglass kayak. It lay on its side, jammed between two black boulders. Nate was running his hands over a crack in the hull by the time Rabbit caught up with him.
“It’s ruined,” announced the kid, sounding deflated.
Rabbit traced the rough edges. As cracks went, it wasn’t bad — certainly repairable if someone cared to do so. Its owners might be searching for it, but it didn’t look like it had seen much recent upkeep. He leaned into the cockpit and popped open the dry hatch. A puff of dust and desiccated leaves spilled out and a folded piece of pink paper fluttered in the breeze. It had become glued to one side of the watertight hold so it didn’t go far. Rabbit peeled it off and read the faded numbers that had been scrawled diagonally across it.
“Huh. Looks like a phone number… Not local.” He flipped the paper over but found nothing else written on it. With a shrug, he closed the hatch again and slipped his wallet from his back pocket then tucked the paper inside. “Let’s get this baby upright,” he suggested, replacing his wallet.
“Why? It’s wrecked.” But a hopeful grin had spread across the boy’s face.
Rabbit raised an eyebrow. “So what? I’ve seen worse. And think of it as community service, removing debris from the beach.”
Nate snickered and pointed at the old tire half buried in the sand. “Yeah? Who’s carrying that?”
A deep laugh sent a nearby gull shooting into the air. It took Rabbit a second to realize he was the one laughing. “Gotta leave something behind so other people can do their part.”
An easy grin slipped over Nate’s face as he joined in the laughter.
The growl of a motorboat passing just offshore briefly interrupted the crashing surf. Rabbit glanced over his shoulder. If those joyriding kids weren’t careful they’d run aground, cutting in so close the day after a storm. But the boat cut sharply and headed back out to open water, deliberately steering for the incoming waves.
He turned his attention back to the kayak, pointing to the other end. “It’ll be a little heavier than you’re expecting because it’s wet inside. Let’s turn it over first and clear what we can.”
The water inside the hull sloshed as they maneuvered the craft, but finally they tipped it enough that it spilled out and soaked into the sand. After a little more twisting, they’d maneuvered to the middle of the clearing. One of the carry handles hung useless, but the rest of the kayak was in decent shape.
“I was skipping school,” Nate blurted, startling Rabbit from his inspection.
“Yeah…” he answered, gazing across the craft at the kid. “I figured.”
Nate’s jaw worked as he obviously struggled for words. “Why didn’t you tell my mom?”
“Wasn’t up to me to tell her.” Rabbit shrugged. “Want to tell me why you were skipping?”
“I hate that place,” whispered the kid. “I don’t fit in.”
“You can’t fit in if you don’t ever go.” Rabbit cocked his head to the side and studied Nathan. “There’s gonna be plenty of times in your life you don’t fit in. How old are you? Fourteen? Fifteen?”
Nate dragged the toe of his grungy white shoe through the sand creating a rough S. “Thirteen,” he mumbled. “I’m thirteen.”
The number rattled around in Rabbit’s head as he blew out a long breath to steady himself. “Of course you are,” he muttered. Would that lousy number ever leave him alone? He sized up the tall teen. “Almost fourteen?”
The kid blinked then slowly shook his head. “My birthday’s July thirteenth.”
Of course it is.
He flashed a grin, almost as though he knew how the number followed and tormented Rabbit and liked the idea. “I was born on Friday the thirteenth.”
Rabbit rolled his eyes. “Figures.”
“Mom always says that was her luckiest day ever.” He squinted up at Rabbit. “Do you believe in luck?”
Rabbit snorted. “Oh yeah, I believe in luck…” Only thing was, his own luck had been mostly bad. He dug in his pocket for a fresh roll of hard candy and peeled open one end. The circle on top was just as he’d expected. Orange. He set about working it out of the package without touching it and dropped it into the sand. Then he popped the green disk beneath into his mouth and held the package out to Nate.
The kid stared at the ground. “Why’d you do that?”
“I don’t eat orange candy,” said Rabbit, waving the pack. “Bad mojo. Want one?”
Nate used his thumb to pry out the red disk. “I’d’ve eaten the orange one. I like orange.” He popped the candy into his mouth.
Of course you do. Rabbit rolled his eyes and jammed the roll into his pocket. “I’ll try to remember that.”
The motorboat buzzed close to the shore again. Hollers and whoops from the boys on board reached them from across the water. Nate stared in their direction like he expected them to come ashore and eat him.
Rabbit grimaced. “Forget them. Just jerks driving Daddy’s boat.”
“I go to school with jerks like them,” murmured Nate. “Always talking about sports and weekends and stuff.”
And it probably hadn’t gone unnoticed what his mom drove or where they lived. Rabbit pinched the bridge of his nose. He could only guess at some of the jeers Nate had been subjected to. He angled a look at the boy. “Look, kid, there’s always going to be—”
Cra-a-ack boom! The explosion echoed across the water. Sniper!
“Get down!” shouted Rabbit, diving for the sand.
A series of loud pops reached them, and dimly he recognized the sound as firecrackers. Not gunfire, then. Too late… he’d made a fool out of himself by eating sand.
Raucous laughter floated across the water as the boat sped off, a deep wake fanning out behind it. The waves angrily slapping the shore reflected the raw emotion surging through Rabbit. He stood and dusted off his jeans, prepared to explain PTSD in terms a thirteen-year-old might understand. When he glanced around for Nate, all he saw was the well-worn bottom of one of the kid’s athletic shoes protruding from behind a rock.
“Heya… it’s okay, kid. I just overreacted.” When the boy didn’t move, Rabbit frowned and walked over to the rock. “Kid?”
Nathan scuttled backward like a ghost crab, pressing impossibly harder against the boulder. What little color his face had possessed was gone, drained. Wide, silver-gray eyes cast wildly about.
Great. He’d freaked the boy out, and now he’d have to talk him off the ledge.
“Hey… Nate… Sorry about that. It was just firecrackers,” murmured Rabbit. “You get used to ducking when you’re in-country.” He kept talking in a low voice, not paying any particular attention to what he was saying.
He was running out of crap to say when the kid blinked and let his shoulders slump. Wow, that had been weird. The kid had reacted like one of the battle-weary returning after a red-eye mission.
“Wh-what was that?” whispered Nate, leaning forward and peering over Rabbit’s shoulder.
“It was just those jerks again,” Rabbit said. Should he touch the kid on the shoulder? No, probably not. He balled his hands into fists and backed off. “I overreacted a little.” But his face-dive into the sand had been nothing at all in comparison to Nate’s.
Way to go… weird the kid out.
He nodded at the kayak. “You up for helping me get this thing back to the house?”