Beach Rental (27 page)

Chapter Thirty-Five

What had he said? The day when Maia came up the stairs and interrupted Frankie? She’d been so wrapped up in her own distress she hadn’t really listened to what Frankie was saying.

Why was she thinking about this now? It had been more than a month since that conversation.

Juli stood in the parking lot of the grocery store holding the paper bag. She’d picked up some salad and rice to go with the fish filet she was cooking for herself and Maia that evening. But it wasn’t cooking or fish that teased her. A few cars drove past as she waited for the memory to resurface.

He’d said something about ‘you have something of mine,’ but that was ridiculous. She’d never taken or borrowed anything from Frankie, had only asked for rides here and there.

Why was it in her head now?

She paused again beside the car. Another memory stirred. She and Ben had been here before. Many times. Why should it trouble her?

“Are you okay?”

A man and woman had stopped, concerned, on their way past. She smiled to reassure them. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

Time to move on. She fumbled the keys and they dropped to the pavement. She set her purse and bag on the trunk so she could retrieve her keys.

“Here, let me get those for you.”

This time, it was a teenage boy.

“Thanks a lot.” She accepted the keys from him. Pregnancy made life interesting and people certainly tended to be more helpful. They moved on more quickly, too, as if they risked being called upon to assist in the delivery if they lingered.

She picked up her purse and the grocery bag began to slide from the trunk.

The trunk.

Ben had opened the trunk and she’d seen her backpack.

What had she done with the backpack? She remembered taking it into the house and dumping it somewhere. Nothing in there she wanted. Certainly not the broken shoes. What a memory it was—the night she’d met Ben and had seen Luke for the first time. Luke had seen Frankie in the coatroom acting suspiciously, and had seen her, too, when she went to retrieve the backpack.

She tried to shake the reverie. Mooning around in a parking lot must be a side effect of pregnancy. Hormones. Hormones got blamed for everything.

She eased herself into the driver’s seat and started the car. She let it idle for a moment longer while she adjusted the seatbelt. Everything took extra effort now. Getting up and getting down. Everything but staying seated.

By the time she returned home, she decided if Frankie believed she had something of his, it would have to be in her backpack. It was the only thing she owned that he could’ve gotten his hands on. He might’ve put something in there intending to retrieve it later.

She saw Maia’s car in the driveway and she felt the warmth of a flush race up her chest and face. She breathed slowly to contain it.

Juli hated the sneakiness, the need to hide…whatever.

She hoped against hope that when she looked in the backpack there’d be nothing but old shoes and a pilled sweater. If there was more, she’d like to resolve it with no one the wiser, including Maia. She had a new life now. She wanted to keep it free of past stain.

Maia would be waiting inside or perhaps on the front porch because the day was mild and sunny.

Instead of tackling the steeper stairs on the side, Juli walked under the house and came out in the front, at the base of the stairs leading up to the crossover. As she ascended the steps she was all set to say hello, but Maia wasn’t sitting in the rocker. No Pat either.

Key in hand, Juli checked the knob. Unlocked. Maia tended to overlook the importance of locks. Maia was inside, then, probably in the bathroom or maybe in the nursery admiring her paint job again. Juli entered.

“Maia?”

No answer. She locked the front door, but not the slide bolts. If Maia was outside, she could use her key or ring the doorbell. Juli put her purse and the grocery bag on the counter and went upstairs.

Maia wasn’t in the nursery. That was good. She could check the backpack right away. She went into her bedroom and opened the closet.

The challenge of dropping to her knees was not insurmountable at seven months, but the movement was clumsy and awkward. Holding to the end of the dresser, she lowered herself to the floor.

A sweater had fallen from its hanger and a jumble of shoes littered the closet floor. She reached past, grabbed the backpack and pulled it out with a loud
whew
.

Juli unzipped the largest compartment zipper. It smelled stale inside. She saw the black pumps and the old sweater she carried for chilly nights when she worked late. Beneath the sweater lay the detached heel and the servers cap. Not much there.

She unzipped the front pocket and when she slipped her hand in, she didn’t find anything unexpected, but she did feel a weight on the other side of the vinyl interior. It wasn’t something she could explain away. She unzipped the small inside pocket and there it was—rather, there they were—a jeweler’s case, a watch and a bunch of cash, rolled up and rubber-banded, and some empty baggies.

So this was what Frankie was after, this and anything else he might be able to bully, snag or scam from her. She rubbed her fingers together. Some sort of residue. Powdery? She wiped her hand on her slacks.

Juli rose to her feet, keeping tight hold of the backpack. She needed air. She slid the door open a foot or so and stood there, breathing deeply. The breeze cooled her face and eased her fear. Fear? Yes, fear, but not of Frankie. She had more to lose now than ever before in her life and she was still alone, after all.

“Welcome home, Jules. Look at you, you’re gonna be a mama.”

He stood in the doorway. His sandy hair was as charmingly tousled as ever and he was grinning. Someday, his skin would wrinkle and that smiling countenance would look freakish, but for now, the ’who me?’ face must still be working for him because he moved with confidence.

Indecision held her immobile. One hand rested on the frame of the sliding glass door, her other hand clutched the backpack close to the side of her belly. The baby kicked and moved her to action.

“What do you want, Frankie? Is this it? In here? You stashed your stolen goods in my backpack. Suppose they’d been checking bags? I could’ve been arrested.”

“Not all of it’s stolen. The cash was earned—a side business for guests who like a little something extra.”

He’d moved a few steps further into the room. There was nowhere for her to go. If Pat had been outside she would’ve been tempted to call for help. That alone might drive him off. But she’d only get one chance. She had to make it count.

Frankie read her face. “Don’t do anything stupid. This isn’t hard. I won’t hurt you.”

Take it and go, she wanted to say. If she let him, would she be an accessory? If he went away, she could go on as if nothing had happened. No one needed to know. Ever. But Maia…where was she? “How did you get in here?”

“Your friend let me in. Not on purpose. She didn’t lock the door when she came in and then she went right on out the front door. How considerate was that? And hey, while we’re chatting, I saw your painting upstairs. Not bad. A wedding portrait. Real sweet.” He moved a few steps closer.

“Her car’s still here. Why would she leave without it?”

“Calm down, Jules. It’s you and me here. No need to do anything that might hurt your baby or get upset over. Give me my stuff. I’m in a hard place. I was gone for a while and I need it now. I’ll take my goods, walk away and no one will know. You’ll never see me again.”

“Maia? Where is she?”

“I’m telling you, she never saw me. She was out the door in a hurry. Let’s get this done quick, before she comes back.”

It was so tempting. These were stolen goods and dirty money, but they weren’t stolen from her. They didn’t really have anything to do with her. Her fingers itched to throw the backpack at him, to yell at him to disappear from her life.

“Darlin’, think about it. It’s not like you’re an innocent. I did stuff from time to time. You knew it and looked the other way and I appreciated it. One more time, that’s all I’m asking, and then I’m gone.” He moved to within six feet. “From your life. Forever. If that’s what you want.”

“You’re wrong, Frankie. I’m not a thief and never was.”

“Don’t get sensitive and righteous on me. I don’t care, do you understand? No one’s going to believe you, anyway. You’ve got a good thing going here. Why screw it up?” He held out his hand.

It was time.

Juli fell back against the sliding door, pushing it wider with her shoulder, but her heel caught on the sill and she lost her balance. As she stumbled backward onto the balcony, she gave up trying to catch herself and hefted the backpack into the air. It brushed Frankie’s fingers before it sailed clear over the railing. She landed heavily to the wooden floor, bumping her head on the rail post.

He reached for her with his fists, his face maroon with anger.

She yelled, “If you want it, it’s down there. Go get it before someone else does.”

His foot drew back. She brought her leg up and her arms down to protect her belly. He kicked her in the hip, then left, running to the hall and down the stairs.

Frantic, she got to her hands and knees. She had to get to the other side of the bed where the telephone sat on the nightstand. She’d call the police. She had to do the right thing and if it caused her trouble, she’d live with the consequences. Time to fly above the radar.

She scrambled around toward the end of the bed. There was a crash downstairs and within seconds feet were running, pounding up the stairs. Angry, urgent voices shouted.

Frankie was returning too quickly. In her haste to reach the phone, her leg hit the corner of the bed and she fell again, onto her knees.

From the floor, she reached up to the phone and was scrabbling for the handset when he came in the door.

No tousled hair.

Luke.

He dropped to the floor beside her. She reached out to him and he drew her into his arms. His face was in her hair, his lips kissing her temple. “My darling, my love, are you injured? Did he hurt you?”

Juli delighted in his arms around her, his lips brushing her face and neck. She drew strength from his touch. It steadied her and somehow, things seemed clearer, like the air after a storm.

“You said
love
. Do you love me, Luke?
In love
with me, I mean.”

“Loving you has never been a problem. It was other things I had to come to terms with. For the rest, we’ll work it out.”

“I love you, too.” She hugged him tight and her lips were meeting his when she remembered there’d been a crash and shouting voices—
voices
.

“Where did you come from? How did you get here so quickly?”

He continued holding her, but with less frantic energy. “I’ll tell you later. And I’ll collect that kiss later. Now, I have to go back downstairs.”

She grabbed his shirt, not willing to let him go. “Where’s Frankie? Did he get away?”

“No. The police will be here any minute. In the meantime, the ladies have him cornered.”

“The ladies?” She frowned. “Give me a hand up. I’m going with you.”

“You stay here.” He rested his hand on her belly before he helped her stand, then pointed to the bed. “Sit and rest. I’ll yell when it’s safe to come down.”

“Not this time, Luke. I’m not hiding.”

He measured her resolve by her firm stare. “Okay, but stay behind me. I’m serious. Don’t put anyone at risk by trying to be brave.”

She clutched the rail expecting to be afraid, but as they descended the stairs only calm filled her. She stood at Luke’s side just out of Frankie’s sight. Out of everyone’s sight, in fact, because their backs were turned. Her viewing angle was narrow, but it was enough to give her a good look at Pat holding a gun on Frankie.

One hand was positioned to brace her gun hand and her stance was no-nonsense. Frankie was crouched on the floor in the far corner of the kitchen. Juli could just see his knee and shoe.

Maia stood outside the kitchen holding the fireplace poker two-handed and swaying slightly as if ready to bat.

“I didn’t do anything to anyone. Juli and I are old friends. She double-crossed me.”

Luke moved forward and Juli did, too, but she put a hand on his arm to stop him, never taking her eyes from the scene before them. She needed to see this. This was the thing she had feared, wasn’t it?

Frankie shifted his weight and his hand moved against the cabinet door. It squeaked.

“Don’t move,” Pat warned.

An unseen woman spit out, “Shoot him.”

The hard voice sent a tremor through Juli. Her fingers dug into Luke’s arm as Adela walked into view. She was hugging the backpack and a big webbed runner decorated the back of her leg. Juli thought she moved like a bouncer or a pit bull, but wearing heels and a suit. Definitely, someone not to be toyed with on any level—apparently a truth Frankie understood because he settled back on his heels.

“Go ahead and shoot him.”

“I can’t, Adela. Not unless he tries something. Then, I can and will. The police will be here any time now.”