Past Due

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Authors: Elizabeth Seckman

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Past Due

By

Elizabeth Seckman

World Castle Publishing

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

World Castle Publishing

Pensacola, Florida

Copyright ©
Elizabeth Seckman 2012

ISBN:
9781938243332

First Edition World Castle Publishing
June 1
5
, 2012

http://www.worldcastlepublishing.com

Licensing Notes

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews.

Cover:
Karen Fuller

Editor:
Eric Johnston

Dedication:

 

To Chad

My past. My present. My future.

To Caleb, Cole, Carter, and Conner

My true works of art.

Acknowledgements:

 

A special thanks to Karen Fuller at World Castle. Thanks for the opportunity…and for putting up with my giddy, unprofessional behavior.

Thanks to my mom and dad. You never doubted, always encouraged.  Thanks Mom for the constant marketing. Thanks Dad for being my guardian angel.

And to my sister, Cathy…yes, this is your story…just don’t expect a cut of the royalties.

I need to thank Sandy Clem, my first reader and best motivator.

Much appreciation to my husband and my four guys for putting up with an almost clean
house and half cooked dinners
on those days I lost track of time.

Thanks to Eric Johnston, “Past Due” editor. It’s a better book with your input and guidance.

And to my very best writing buddy; the best friend I never met…Celeste. Thanks for reading these pages till your eyes crossed; thanks for all the prayers; and thanks for the cyber shoulder to cry on. You’re the best lady!

And to a very special thanks to you, the reader. A writer is nothing without you. I’d love to hear from you. You can find me on Facebook; at my blog (www.eseckman.blogspot.com
);
or contact me at
[email protected]
.

God bless.

Elizabeth

“Between the sea and the mainland, people of the barrier islands occupy an unusual

position- on the edge, almost afloat, and barely aground.”

US Park Service Placard

Cape Hatteras National Park

Buxton, North Carolina

Chapter 1

 

The slap, slap of the wipers now brought a rhythmic calm. Jenna loosened her grip on the steering wheel as she passed under the last red light in Avon, North Carolina. This skinny strip of highway was the homestretch. Sad that a seven mile trip to the grocery store caused so much worry. But, as the mile markers zipped past, the vibrating and screeching sounds under her feet were reduced to mere distractions.

She switched on the radio.

Tanner rolled his head against the back of his seat. “Seriously, Mom? That’s awful. I’d rather listen to the death cries of your piece of crap car than that.”

“Nice language.” She frowned. He just turned fourteen, so she’d let crap slide. “Look, I know you hate my music, but why pick on Lizzie?” She patted the dash. “She’s a great car. Why, she brought you home from the hospital when you were born.”

Tanner rolled his eyes. “That’s no reason to brag. It sounds like it’s about to croak. Can’t you hear that?” He turned the radio down. “It’s been making that noise all week…it’s getting worse.”

Jenna shrugged and bit the side of her cheek, not admitting the poor old gal didn’t shift into reverse anymore either making Jenna a master at finding pull through parking spaces. She just prayed the car would make it one more week…maybe two… possibly three… if she counted on really good luck. Life was expensive and payday triage was standard protocol in the Austin household. The car had to wait its turn.

And if it didn’t? She eyed the empty highway connecting Avon and Buxton. Many small towns dotted the Outer Banks, but this sliver of island was nothing but sand and sea. Straight ahead, the black and white spirals of the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse defied, at least for a moment, the close of the day. Jenna instinctively expected to see it flash. But it didn’t. It hadn’t burned since July and its historical move from its precarious perch on the shore to its new home 2,900 feet inland. A move Jenna had disapproved of and was still adjusting to. Frowning, she turned her attention back to Tanner, “I’ll have the car checked tomorrow, all right?”

Tanner nodded. Jenna sighed.

Less than a mile away the sounds stopped. She felt a swell of hope, a renewed spirit of optimism. Worry spent on nothing.

Then reality struck. The engine let out a bang and a high pitched squeal that proved as jolting as the savage cry of a wounded animal. Jenna smashed the gas pedal to the floor. Nothing. Coasting the car to the side of the road, the smell of hot oil and burnt rubber made her groan…and curse…but just a little, and under her breath.

Tanner leaped from the car. Jenna got out slowly. The urge to kick tires and throw things at the forefront of her mind, but she kept her cool.

Tanner, eyes rounded, asked, “Do you think it’ll blow?”

She hoped not, but she unloaded the trunk with lightning speed handing Tanner bags of groceries and wrapping several over her wrists. They started on down the road without looking back. “Probably the radiator. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”

“So, you’re sprinting for your health?”

“The rain, Tan. I want to get out of the rain.” But she didn’t slow her pace until she considered them out of explosion range.

Soaked, Jenna’s long, blond hair hung heavy and straight, Tanner’s tightened into loose curls all over his head. They walked side by side. They were both tall; both had lean athletic bodies, though Tanner was becoming more muscular, whereas Jenna’s limbs were willowy. Tanner easily kept pace with his mom. His stride relaxed and confident, the only sign of worry a furrowed brow shading his brown eyes.

“If you’d ever spring for cell phones, we wouldn’t—”

“Don’t start. You know the answer.”

Tanner said nothing more. He readjusted his bags and stared at the ground.

Jenna donned a bright smile and gave him a shoulder bump. “It could be worse.”

“How could it be worse?”

“It could be hailing...or there could be lightning... or there could be toads falling from the sky landing in big, massive, ribbeting clumps along the road.”

Tanner shrugged, “Or you could be fined for littering for dumping Lizzie along the road.”

Jenna lifted her face to a clearing sky. The dark clouds moved off and the evening sun regained its throne. Jenna laughed. “It’d be my luck, wouldn’t it?”

Tanner grinned and nodded, silently taking some more bags off his mother’s hands. Jenna took the opportunity to ask, “So, how’s school this year?”

“All right.”

“Classes good?”

“I guess.”

“Any cute girls?”

“Same old batch since kindergarten.”

“Well, Mellie…she’s pretty. Surely you’ve noticed her?”

“Nah. I’m just like my mother. Might not ever date.”

She opened her mouth, but closed it. She couldn’t explain the complications of love and dating to a boy who never shaved.

They walked the rest of the way to the village of Buxton in silence. Jenna stopped at the first gas station on the right of the road. The parking lot was nearly empty after the fall migration of the tourist flock. Jenna recognized the few cars as local with the exception of a black Porsche.

With a low whistle, Tanner moved magnetically to the sleek black machine.

“Sweet,” he whistled.

Jenna crossed her arms over her chest and sighed–audibly and with exaggeration.

Ignoring her, Tanner circled the car and crooned, “A Carera GT—isn’t it beautiful?” Tanner admired the aerodynamic slope of the hood, the shiny black grill, and the slightly lifted tail fins.

“It looks like the Bat Mobile,” Jenna mumbled.

Tanner pressed his face against the driver’s side window, trying to read the speedometer. “Wonder how fast she’s clocked for?”

“Oh, lord, Tan, don’t drool on it. I’m going to get a bottle of wine. Will you see if Milo’s still in?”

His breath steamed the glass. He rubbed it off with his shirt. Jenna poked him on the arm. “Did you hear me, Tanner?”

“Sure, sure. Talk to Milo. You need booze.”

“Tanner Scott,” she scolded as she walked away. “Keep your hands in your pockets. It’ll stop you from getting fingerprints all over the car.”

Jenna perused the wine shelf. Gourmet screw top, gas station wine was the answer to her chilled flesh and growing headache. That and a hot shower. The selection was far from overwhelming, so she chose with ease. She tucked the bottle under her arm and headed for the check out.

On her way to the counter, she took a gander at Tanner who was bent over, running a hand across the tire tread, lovingly stroking the chrome hub cap. She hoped he didn’t get down and crawl under the stupid thing. She shook her head and walked on ... straight into a mound of sturdy warm flesh. Jenna cringed, then opened her eyes to find herself nose-to-chest with a well-formed male body. She felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment. “I am so sorry,” she answered without looking up.

“No problem...Jenna.”

The voice rang familiar. Jenna, in an instant, felt a moment of mystical calm—rightness-in-the-world kind of feeling. But, this feeling was instantly replaced with full blown, blood draining, knee weakening panic. “Tres.” The word nearly choked her. Her heart beat so rapidly she thought it might leap from her mouth if she opened it again. She looked over her shoulder at Tanner. Fortunately, he was still preoccupied with the Bat Mobile.

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