Текст книги "Drift Away"

Автор книги: Jeff Shelby

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

THIRTY-EIGHT

The first place I’d run into Zip was the laundromat and I could make several guesses about why he was there.

He needed clean clothes.

He needed change.

Or he was dealing.

I went with the latter, which meant it might be the best place to find him anytime anyone needed him.

I parked across the street from the laundromat and waited for almost an hour before he finally showed up. No laundry basket, no clothes, no running in to get change. He just kind of meandered around the lot of the strip mall. Twice, he walked to a car that pulled up at the end of the lot, made small talk and then a quick exchange through the passenger window before the car took off.

Old habits die hard, especially with idiots.

I drove across the street and parked in the lot. I was already out of the car and heading toward him when he realized it was me.

That stupid, cocky smile spread over his face. “Hey, Noah. What’s shaking?”

“Not much,” I said. “Buy you dinner?”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah. Sandwich or something?”

“Isn't it a little late?” It was almost nine o'clock.

“Didn't know you had regular meal times, Zip. Dinner or no?”

He eyed me cautiously. “Why?”

“I was kind of a dick the other day, okay?  You said if I wanted to hang out or something, we should. Here I am. Come on. Meal is on me.”

I headed for the car without giving him a chance to answer. I heard his footsteps behind me, following.

“Where’d you get the wheels?” he asked, slipping into the passenger seat.

“Just borrowed them. Had to run some errands this afternoon,” I said, turning the key and starting the engine.

He took out a cigarette, lit it with a cheap blue lighter, and exhaled out the window. “Right on.”

I backed out of the spot, but rather than driving out of the lot, I swung around the laundromat and into the alley behind it.

Which was empty.

“Where are we going, bro?” he asked, looking around.

I yanked the cigarette out of his mouth and jammed it into his thigh, just below the end of his shorts. He screamed and shot up out of his seat, smashing his head into the roof. I held it on his leg for another moment before flicking it out the window.

He writhed in his seat and reached for the door, pulling on the handle. It didn’t budge, thanks to the automatic door locks.

“What the hell, man?” he cried. “What the hell?”

I pushed the button on the door and his window rolled up. I didn’t need anyone hearing him scream again if I had to hurt him.

“Tell me what you told David Hanson about me,” I said.

“I don’t even know who that is, man.”

I put my hand behind his head and snapped it down into the dashboard, his forehead crashing against the glove box.

“Try again,” I said. “Tell me what you told David Hanson about me.”

He sat up slowly, shrinking into the seat, a bright red mark on his forehead. The red dot on his thigh puckered and blistered.

“Told him I knew you back in Cali,” he whimpered. “That we were friends. Well, not friends, but that I knew you.”

“What else?”

“Nothing, man.”

“If I slam your head down again, I’ll break your nose. What else did you tell him?”

He pushed back against the door. “Okay, okay. I told him you were in trouble in San Diego. I wasn’t exactly sure what for, but that you were. Man, he said he was gonna shoot me if I didn’t tell him. I’m sorry.”

Zip wasn’t sorry. He didn’t have it in him to be sorry. The only thing he was sorry about was that he’d been dumb enough to get in a car with me.

“But I didn’t give him any of the details, Noah,” he said. “I swear. Man, I don’t even know the details, alright?”

I didn’t know if that was true or not, but it was irrelevant. David could start digging, could reach out, start asking questions. At the very least, he could tell people where I was.

If Zip hadn’t already.

“What else?”

“Nothin’.”

“You didn’t tell him anything else about me?  Nothing?”

His eyes darted around the interior of the car. “Man, I don’t remember.”

“Try. Hard. Everything you said about me.”

His hands were balled into fists and he couldn’t get comfortable in the seat. “I dunno, man. I told him you were from San Diego. That you were in trouble.”

“Tell him I was a detective?”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Pretty sure, yeah.”

“Tell him where I lived?”

He shook his head. “No. Just said San Diego.”

“Tell him about Carter?”

He shook his head emphatically. “No.”

I’m sure there were other details, but I didn’t think they really mattered. David had enough to get a decent picture of me now, probably enough to know I was a threat. But also enough to know I was vulnerable.

“I’m gonna say this one time,” I said. “One time. So pay attention.”

Zip nodded, rubbing at his leg, wincing from the pain.

“You open your mouth about me again to anyone and I find out?” I pointed at his leg. “I’ll put a bullet there instead of a cigarette.”

He squirmed in the seat.

“We clear?” I asked.

“Clear. Man, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not. So quit saying it. And one other thing.”

He squirmed some more. “What?”

“Get out of here,” I said. “Get out of Fort Walton. Get out of Destin. Get out of the Panhandle. I don’t care where you go, but get out.”

“Man, I told you I was on my way to Miami…”

“Then go there,” I said. “I really don’t care. But pack your shit and get the hell out of here. Tonight.”

He grimaced, but I wasn’t sure if it was the leg or me telling him to leave.

“Noah, come on. I need a couple of days to get all my stuff together, get some cash, all that.”

“You don’t have a couple days,” I said. “You’ve got about an hour. Or that wound on your thigh gets a whole lot bigger and bloodier.”

He shook his head and muttered under his breath.

“And you don’t go near Hanson,” I said. “He calls you, don’t answer. He knocks on your door while you’re packing, don’t answer. He’s standing on the street as you’re driving away, run over him. Don’t ever speak to him again.”

He sighed. “He was gonna be my hook-up for Miami. He was gonna get me set up down there.”

“Well, now he’s not. Find some other degenerate to hook up with.”  I paused. “Because if you do talk to him, it won’t be me coming after you. I’ll send Carter.”

Zip’s eyes widened, then he nodded. “No problem, man. I’m gone and I won’t ever say shit to that guy again. Swear.”

“Get out,” I said.

He did so quickly and shut the car door, limping away.

I wasn’t worried that he would do anymore damage to me. He’d stay away from David.

Carter had that kind of effect on people.

THIRTY-NINE

All was fine back at Bella’s house.

“Things okay?” Alex asked from his spot next to Bella on the couch. The TV flickered, the volume low.

“Yep. Fine,” I said. “Car’s back out front.”

“Okay.”

I looked at Bella. “Okay if he stays here tonight with you and Jackson?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. You don’t wanna stay?”

“Not that,” I said. “I’m just going to need to take care of a few things tonight and tomorrow morning. But I wanna make sure you’re comfortable with everything.”

She glanced at Alex and gave a quick smile. “Yes. It’s fine.”

“You can call me on the cell you got me,” I said. “I’ll make sure I have it on.”

She nodded and I motioned for Alex to follow me outside.

“You can take the car if you want,” he said, shutting the door behind him. “I won’t need it.”

“Nah, I don’t want anyone seeing me in it,” I said. “I’ve already been it in too much and parking it in front of the house might make it an easy target.”

“You think this guy is coming?”

I nodded. “Yeah. He will at some point. And I think it’ll be for me, not Bella. That’s why I wanna separate from her. In case he does. I don’t want her or Jackson to be in the line of fire or see anything that goes down.”

“You can handle it?” Alex asked.

I shrugged. “Sure.”

“You got any other backup?”

I shook my head.

Alex nodded. “Okay. I’ll stay here unless I hear differently from you.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll call you guys in the morning and check in.”

He nodded again, started to say something, then stopped.

“What?” I asked.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, alright?” he said. He took a deep breath. “You need to let go of her, Noah.”

“I’m fine.”

“No. You aren’t,” he said. “I can tell. I don’t know you very well, but you’re screwed up. And I get why and I would be, too. But you can’t keep her with you forever. She’s gone. She’s not coming back.”

I swallowed hard. “I know that.”

“At some point, you’re going to have to deal with it. All of it,” he continued. “Liz. Keene. What happened. You can’t live like this forever. Nervous and anxious, always looking over your shoulder. You either need to go back to San Diego and face it or get the hell out of here, to somewhere you don’t have to worry about it.”  The lines around his eyes tightened. “Because this is like purgatory for you. And I think it’s eating you up.”

I walked around him and grabbed my bike from against the garage. I wanted to say something, but all of the words were stuck in my throat.

“She wouldn’t want this for you, Noah,” Alex said, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “She wouldn’t. She’d be pissed. You know how much she hated indecision.”

Tears stung my eyes. I did, indeed, know that.

“She wouldn’t accept you being stuck in this,” he said, walking over to me on the bike. “She’d kick you in the ass and tell you to figure it out and move on. And I don’t know exactly what that means for you, but I think she’d be right.”

I set my foot on the pedal, balanced on one leg, and let his words hit me like bullets.

“She loved you, Noah,” he said. “And right now, wherever she is, she’s mad at you. Not for what you did.”  He paused and put a hand on my shoulder. “But for what it’s doing to you.”

I pushed down on the pedal and rolled slowly down the driveway, the evening breeze brushing the tears onto my cheeks, his words echoing in my ears.

FORTY

As I tossed and turned in bed, Alex’s words wouldn’t leave me alone.

I needed sleep.  I needed to be sharp for what was coming, needed to be rested.  But his words were stuck in my head on a never-ending loop.  No matter how hard I shut my eyes, I couldn’t make them go away.

Because he was right.  I needed to shake myself out of it.

And I had an idea how to do it.

The first streak of sunlight hit the dirty garage window at 5:28am and I was out of bed a minute later.  I splashed cold water on my face, pulled on a T-shirt and slipped into the only pair of board shorts I had.  I stood near the sink for a moment, took a deep breath, then grabbed the old surfboard from the corner of the garage.  I headed over to the beach. To the sand. To the ocean. To find Liz.

I crossed the highway, the parking lot and the worn planks onto the powder-white sand, Ike’s beat up six-footer tucked under my left arm. The sand was already combed against the edge of the calm emerald green water and I was alone.

I jammed the tail end of the board into the sand so it stood upright. Ike told me it was old, but it looked to be in good shape. No major dings and the last wax job had held. I checked the fins on the underside and they were on tight.

I stripped off my shirt, kicked off my sandals and dropped my keys and phone onto them. I stared at the water and wondered what it was going to feel like.

I pulled the board out of the sand and shuffled into the warm water, the board floating easily on top of the soft, early morning waves. I let the water wash over the top of it, then pushed it off. I waded further out, my hands on the board, giant knots in my stomach.

I’d purposely left my boards in San Diego. I’d always sworn I’d never be without them, but after Liz’s death, nothing seemed that important to me. And, somehow, I’d connected surfing to her. We’d spent a lot of time in the ocean together and while I couldn’t go anywhere without seeing her face, it seemed as if it was bigger and brighter the closer I got to the water.

So I’d avoided it. Hadn’t set foot in it. Maybe I was punishing myself, cutting myself off from the one thing that had given me solace my entire life. I didn’t know for sure, but the water had seemed less inviting, less comforting since she’d been gone.

But I needed her. Needed her to tell me what to do, how to go forward, how to heal. How to be without her.

The waves were erratic and small, no clear break line to paddle to. I laid down on the board and paddled around, just getting used to feeling the ocean beneath me again. I let several swells push me before I swung around, putting my feet to the horizon and waiting.

My arms sliced through the water, propelling me toward the shore and the water rose beneath me. I popped to my feet and slid down the face of the small wave, riding out to my left, just letting the water take me as I stood, the wind hitting my face, the salt stinging my lips.

The wave died out and I jumped off, submerging myself in the water. I came to the surface and wiped away the first salt water that had touched my face in months. My pulse slowed and the anxiety ebbed away. For the first time since Liz had been gone, I felt like myself.

I was home.

I attacked with a vengeance, paddling out hard, getting into anything that looked like a wave, carving and cutting at the water like a butcher. Every ripple presented an opportunity to burn energy, to burn anger and I took each and every one, my thighs and calves burning as I twisted and contorted on each new wave, flying up and down the shoreline.

The sun rose higher on the horizon, giving full light to the day.  Joggers and walkers appeared on the sand, eager to take advantage of the quiet and the respite the morning provided from the never-ending summer heat. I sat on the board, trailing my fingers in the water, watching. Thinking.

I paddled in toward shore.  My legs were rubbery and my lungs begged for a break. I shoved the board into the shore and collapsed on the sand, breathing heavily. I stared up at the blue sky, the water dripping off my body.

I closed my eyes.

And she was there, looking at me, smiling.

Hi.

“Hi.”

You looked good.

“Did I?”

Yeah. Like always.

I could see her eyes, warm, sparkling.

“I miss you,” I said. “Help me.”

You’ll be okay. You will.

“I don’t want to be without you.”

Her smile radiated warmth.

You aren’t without me. I’m here. Always.

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

I’ll never leave you, Noah. I’m always here. You’ll be okay.

I didn’t say anything, just squeezed my eyes shut tighter, wishing I could bring her back into existence.

Stop being afraid. Be you. I’ll be here.

“I’m sorry.”

Be you.

“I’m sorry.”

Be you.

I wanted to reach out and touch her, just one last time. Touch her hands, her hair, her lips. Bury my face in her hair, breathe in the scent of her.

Be you.

“I love you,” I said.

I love you.

I opened my eyes and she was gone.

The familiar pain of being without her settled into me, but without the edge I had grown used to. The void inside me felt different. Maybe I was just playing games with myself, but the emptiness didn’t feel as paralyzing.

The early morning sun warmed my face and I sat up, the wet sand clinging to my back and arms. My muscles ached in a good way, reminding me that I actually liked surfing.

Needed it.

I stood and picked up my stuff and slid my feet into my sandals. I carried the board under my arm as I trudged up the dunes. When I got to the wooden bridge, I turned back to face the water.

The small white caps looked like snow on the green water, rolling rhythmically, disappearing as they crashed into the sand. But new ones would appear, a long line of them, an ever-present band of waves marching toward shore. Constant. Always there.

The ocean had always been my answer since I was a kid. To everything. My problems with Carolina—my problems with everything—melted away the minute I stepped foot in the water. It was funny to me that I’d forgotten this, that I’d been so quick to give it up.

Liz’s words, real or imagined, echoed in my head.

Be you, she’d said.

I stared at the water for a long time, determined to be me again.

FORTY-ONE

I heard knocking in the distance and I pried open my eyes.

I was flat on my back in my bed, disoriented.  I remembered walking back to the garage after surfing, setting the board down in the corner, then sitting down on the edge of the bed, exhausted.

I’d finally found sleep.

The knocking was at my door.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes.  I glanced at the clock.  It was ten o’clock.  Which meant I’d been asleep for a couple of hours.

The knock was more insistent this time and I jumped out of bed, pulled on a pair of shorts, and grabbed the gun Alex had given me. I approached the door cautiously, my senses alert, and clutched the gun against my leg.

Ike’s face peered at me through the window of the door and he held up a hand in greeting.

I stuffed the gun in my waistband and opened the door.

“Hey, kid,” he said, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. “Not like you to not show up again and I knew you ran into some trouble the other day, so I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, Ike,” I said. “I overslept.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, waving me off. “I set everything up. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’ll grab my bag and get over there.”

“Relax, Noah,” he said. “We’re good. Most employees get a couple days off every week. Besides, you’ve looked like you needed to sleep in since you got here.”  He smiled. “Don’t sweat it.”

I appreciated his kindness, but I still felt guilty.

“I also wanted to give you a heads up,” he said, his smile fading.

“About?”

“Two things.” He leaned against the doorframe. “Some dude was asking around about you the other day.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “I was in the deli getting lunch and he was asking the girl at the counter about you. She recognized you by the description, but didn’t have anything to give him.” He grinned. “Other than she thought you were cute.”

“Who was the guy?”

“Short. Beanpole. Dirty hair and a wispy mustache. Teeth like a weasel. Looked a lot like the guy you described to me when the other guy was asking about you.”

Zip.

“I’m not worried about him,” I said. “I don’t think he’ll be asking around anymore.”

“No?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“After he left, I talked to the girl,” he said. “She really didn’t have anything to give him, so I didn’t think it was anything to care about, but thought you should know.”

“Okay, thanks. What’s the other thing?”

His expression clouded. “This might be a bit more serious.”

“Alright.”

“Friend of mine, guy I have beers with every week, he’s a retired cop,” Ike said, folding his thick arms across his chest. “Worked over in Jacksonville for a long time, then came over here for about five years before he retired and then stuck around to find his next ex-wife. But he still hangs out with the guys on the force here, will do some security stuff once in awhile, that kind of shit.”

I didn’t say anything.

“He said he heard they got a call from San Diego,” he said, his gray brows furrowing. “Just a feeler. Nothing official. Looking for a guy in his thirties who used to be a detective.”

The news didn’t hit me as hard as I thought it might. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was expecting it, or because of Zip, or because I’d finally slept. But it didn’t put me in a panic.

“Okay,” I said.

“Way my buddy heard it was that they didn’t even want local to bring you in if they saw you,” he said. “They just asked for a call if you turned up.”

“Any idea who the San Diego cop was that called?”

“Nope,” he said. “I can ask, but I doubt he’ll know. He might be able to find out, but might draw attention, too, you know?”

“Yeah,” I said. “That’s fine. Don’t worry about it. How did he know to come to you?”

Ike adjusted the shades on his face. “When you got here, I put a bug in his ear. Just in case he heard anything. No details or anything, but just figured it might be a good idea in case you needed to know.”

“You trust him?”

Ike chuckled and nodded. “Yeah. I buy all the beer and trust me—he likes beer. He owes me a few favors. You’re good.”

“Okay,” I said. “Thanks, Ike. I appreciate it. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

He made a face and waved at me. “Whatever, kid. Carter said to take care of you and I’m not dumb enough to cross that crazy nut job. And he’s done right by me before, so I’m happy to help for as long as you need.”

I didn’t ask what Carter had done for him. That was probably a story that would take a couple days to explain.

“And if you gotta get outta here in a hurry,” he said. “Just leave the key inside. I’ll figure it out.”

“No,” I said. “I’ll let you know if I’m outta here. At the very least.”

“Whatever, kid,” Ike said. “You’re good with me. And take the day off, alright?  I haven’t sat my fat ass over in that sand for awhile and my tan’s fading. I got it covered today.”

“You sure?”

He nodded. “Positive. I’ll find you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Ike,” I said. “Really.”

“Quit thanking me, kid,” he said, smiling. “Gonna make me feel like I need to hug you or something.”

We said goodbye and I shut the door. I wasn’t sure what I would’ve done if it hadn’t been for Carter setting me up with Ike. There weren’t too many people who would just give you a place to live and a job without asking a million questions. No matter what happened, I wouldn’t just disappear on Ike. He deserved better than that.

The cell phone chirped and I jumped, unused to having a phone around. I dug it out from my pile of clothes and answered it.

“Noah.”  It was Bella, her voice high-pitched, garbled. “He’s gone.”

“Alex?  Where did he go?”

“No. Jackson.”