Red Tide (Siren Publishing Classic) (33 page)

“What about the fact that he’s got some sort of connection either here or up in Hernando Beach or Bayport? Someone who knows the area? How about the next time he tries something we find you scattered all over Bob’s parking lot and we bury you in a coffee can after we pick you up with table spoons?”

Mitch recoiled from his words as if slapped. He softened his voice and tried again. “Mitch, I can’t force you to go any more than I can force you to stay unless I locked you up under protective custody. I’m your friend, and I’m not going to do that. I’m asking you, not telling you, as your friend, please get the hell out.”

She looked up at Ed. “Well?”

“You already know my feelings on the matter.”

“Shit.” She walked over to Margarita’s cage and took the bird out, petting her. “What about Margarita and Pete?”

“I’ll stay here with them,” Ron volunteered. “Or we can move them to my house. Whichever you prefer.”

“No, you can stay here.” She sighed. “Give me a little while to get packed and Ron can drop us by the Ford dealership.”

The men all looked at her quizzically.

“If we’re leaving Ed’s truck here, we need a vehicle. I need to replace the Bronco anyway, so I might as well do it now. I’d at least like to have that much stability in my life, that I’m in my own goddamn car.”

She went into the bedroom to pack, wishing John would show up and get his ass shot just so her life could return to normal. Along that line of thinking, she remembered to pack the 9mm, the extra clips, and a full box of ammo for it. Probably an unnecessary precaution, but it made her feel a little better nonetheless.

* * * *

An hour later, they were at the dealership. The deputy, under orders to remain with them until they left in their new vehicle, shadowed them while they looked. She narrowed it down to three different choices and asked the salesman to give them a few minutes alone. He walked back to the showroom while she discussed it with Ed and the deputy.

She decided on a blue Expedition, a like-new four-door with a V8 engine and all the safety features, including antilock brakes and air bags. The only thing it didn’t have was power locks, but she didn’t care about that. They trooped into the sales office to find the salesman. An hour later, the deputy helped them transfer their luggage into the new vehicle and waited until they were safely on the road.

* * * *

The deputy never saw the car across the street pull out and follow Mitch and Ed. He had a picture of John Tyne supplied to Sam by Mitch, and any cars that drove into the lot he scrutinized for a familiar face. Perhaps if he’d been a former military man or Secret Service, he would have spotted the threat, but instead he called in to Sam Caster that everything went fine and then checked out, his shift over an hour earlier, and drove home.

* * * *

Mitch was in no mood to enjoy her new vehicle, and had practically shoved the keys in Ed’s hands when the salesman handed her the paperwork.

“I just can’t drive, Ed. I’m too upset.”

“That’s okay, hon. Where to?”

She waved her hand at the windshield. “I don’t care. South. Key West, hell, Cuba for all I care.”

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s nearly dark. How about we stop around Sarasota and get a good night’s sleep, and we’ll discuss it from there.”

Mitch leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. “Whatever. I don’t care.”

* * * *

The western horizon had melted into deep purple, the sun already down, by the time they crossed the Sunshine Skyway bridge. They drove mostly in silence, Ed’s attempts at conversation early in the trip unproductive.

I don’t know what to say to her.

He felt the change in her. Ever since learning about Jenna’s death, the anger and personal outrage she’d felt about John had been subtly replaced by guilt and even fear. He’d seen the full spectrum of Mitch’s emotions over the years, but never anything quite like the withdrawn, almost impenetrable brooding mask she now wore. Aching for her, he left her to her own thoughts and concentrated on driving.

He drove on for another fifteen minutes before turning off the interstate and heading west for Sarasota. He found a Holiday Inn on the ICW that had plenty of rooms available and a restaurant on the ground floor. Once they were checked into a room with a water view and unpacked, Ed called Sam and gave them the room number as well as the tag number and description of the new Explorer.

“Where are you going to end up?”

“I don’t know,” Ed said, looking at Mitch. “Wherever we end up at.”

“Hopefully, it’ll be safe enough for you to come home within a week. I’d say if he doesn’t show up or we don’t find any sign of him before then, he’ll be long gone. We’ve got border patrol notices up, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t already halfway to Texas or jumped a fishing trawler or something. Or he could have already hopped a flight out of TIA before we got the BOLO out.”

“Okay, Sam. We’ll keep in touch. Call us if anything happens.” He hung up and turned to Mitch. “Are you going to eat something, or will I have to force-feed you?” He smiled, trying to keep his voice light.

“No, I’ll eat, dammit. But I’ll be glad when we can go home.” They went downstairs. By the end of the meal, Ed had managed to coax a few smiles and tentative laughs out of her. Her state of mind, while not the best, was at least a little improved from that afternoon.

Their room came with a large whirlpool tub, and they made good use of it, taking time to soak in the warm water, simply holding each other, trying to ease the day’s tension away. Ed thought he’d managed to relax Mitch when he carried her into the bedroom and laid her down on the bed until she took a moment to unpack the 9mm and put it in the nightstand drawer, fully loaded, a round chambered. Only then did she allow him to make love to her.

“You sure know how to interrupt the flow of things,” he gently chided her.

She nibbled on his ear. “It gives me a little peace of mind. I felt like someone followed us down the entire way today.”

He kissed a line from the base of her throat to in between her breasts. “You’re just jumpy, that’s all.”

“I hope you’re right.” She softly moaned as he took one of her breasts into his mouth and teased her with his tongue.

“I am. Just lay back and enjoy yourself.”

What he didn’t tell her was he’d had that same feeling. He didn’t mention the Chevy that appeared to stay with them all the way down US 19 to the interstate and across the Skyway. He didn’t really think it was anything to worry about, but he didn’t want to be caught on the road after dark either.

Mitch’s hand found its way between his legs. As she slowly massaged his balls before wrapping her fingers around his cock and stroking it, he soon forgot about the Chevy and concentrated on loving her.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of her fingers sliding up and down his hard shaft. So many times he’d imagined her hands on him, her body underneath his, and now his dreams had finally come true.

When he couldn’t take it any longer, he rolled her over onto her back. “I want to taste you,” he hoarsely said before lowering his lips to her pussy.

Her eyes fell closed as her fingers plunged into his hair. If anything, his cock grew even harder at the taste of her sweet juices as he fucked her with his tongue. He clamped his fingers around her thighs and held her still as he slowly teased and tormented her. Only when she started begging him to make her come did he relent. He wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked, triggering her explosion.

Listening to her moans nearly finished him off. He sat up and sank his cock deep inside her, relishing the feel of her slick muscles grabbing at his shaft.

“Please!” she gasped, urging him to start moving.

He leaned in and kissed her. “Don’t worry, I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he whispered. He grabbed her wrists and encircled her with his arms, holding her hands above her head, cocooning her with his body. He kissed her again before nuzzling his lips in the crook of her neck. “So good,” he repeated.

She tried to urge him faster, but he wouldn’t be rushed. He savored it, holding back, wanting to make her come again first. Only when he felt her body tensing, climbing toward release, did he pick up the pace.

Her fingers curled around his. He lifted his head to look into her eyes. “I love you, Mitch,” he whispered.

Her gaze widened. He felt her pussy clench around him as her release exploded.

He smiled. “That’s what I wanted to feel, baby.” He began fucking her hard, fast, racing to catch up with her until with a cry echoed by her, he exploded inside her.

Winded, he collapsed on top of her. She wrapped her arms around him. “Please don’t ever let me go,” she whispered.

He rolled to his side with his arms protectively cradling her. “Never,” he said. “Never.”

She fell asleep in his arms, curled up against his side. Ed thought back to their dinner conversation.

He was acutely aware that Mitch hadn’t brought up any plans for the future, for
their
future, as she had been ever since they admitted their feelings for each other. He tried to force himself away from the macabre line of thinking that there might not
be
a future for them if John interceded, and finally drifted off to sleep, curled protectively around her.

* * * *

She ran. A brief, panicked glance over her shoulder was enough to send her sprinting down the stairs, across the dewy grass of the backyard, toward the dock. Whatever the dark, shapeless thing was pursuing her, identification would have to wait.

Mitch fled down the dock, over the rough wood, picking her feet up as she ran—

Watch out for splinters!

—even this was ingrained in her from childhood, drilled into her by her father and experience.

As the threat gained speed on her, too late she realized the jon boat was gone. Her only escape lay in the water.

She sped up, judging her distance. After she launched herself at the water, reaching her hands out to break her entry, she realized she’d find no safety here as the water boiled and darkness broke the surface to devour her—

“Mitch!”

Ed shook her as she screamed, his eyes wide, still confused from sleep and fright. Her frantic thrashing and cries had awoken him, and he had the 9mm in his hand, safety off, until he turned the bedside light on and realized she was in the iron grasp of a nightmare.

Her eyes opened. When her brief disorientation passed, she collapsed in his arms, shuddering, unable to cry anymore. He held her until her shakes passed, then finally, her breathing became slow and steady as she sank back into the relief of sleep.

He put the safety back on the 9mm and laid it on top of the bedside table. He would not sleep for the rest of the night. He sat up in bed, the TV on low to keep from disturbing Mitch, watching over her.

* * * *

Mitch woke up before dawn from habit. As the day’s first, grey light crept into the room, she told Ed about her nightmare and her terror.

“And what if he’s out there right now? What if he’s watching for us in the parking lot?”

He bit his tongue, wanting more to calm her fears than add to them. “I doubt that, hon. He can’t possibly have followed us.”

She wanted to believe him, but the dream’s firm grip refused to let go. Darkness behind, darkness ahead, terror no matter where she turned.

John took a room in the hotel across the street from Mitch and Ed, where a twenty-four-hour Denny’s operated in the lobby. He asked for a five a.m. wake-up call and went out in search of a drug store. After making a rather unusual purchase at a CVS, he returned to his hotel, made sure their vehicle still sat in the lot, and went to his room.

By the time he went to bed, his hair had been buzzed short with the clippers he bought and was now a light blond. He hadn’t shaved since that morning, and his stubble was coming in quickly. The wire-frame reading glasses he bought were the weakest magnification he could get but still messed up his equilibrium a little. It didn’t matter, because he wouldn’t need to wear them very long. Only long enough to approach Mitch without her recognizing him until it was too late.

The dark knee-high socks and black rubber beach sandals were certainly touristy, combined with a pair of shorts and T-shirt that read, “Lovin’ the Sun in Sarasota.” The cheap flowered beach tote concealed the .38 he picked up near the airport after renting the car. He topped the ensemble with a Florida Devil Rays baseball cap and examined the results with a satisfied eye. It probably wouldn’t fool a cop for long, but all he needed to do was get close to Mitch and Ed.

He undressed and showered before getting into bed. He knew he had to bide his time. As much as he wanted to take them immediately, he forced himself to wait. He was glad he’d decided to go back to Pasco after leaving the Carrollwood house. John despised loose ends, and Mitch was the last one.

Getting rid of Ed would be a bonus.