Ride to Restoration (Ride Series Book 2) (40 page)

BOOK: Ride to Restoration (Ride Series Book 2)
8.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

One answer down. One to go
... or was it two?

Chapter
77

M
ajor
and I slept in until six. After a quick walk with the dog, up and down the
beach chasing crazy crabs, I fed him and left him piled up on the couch. Going
downstairs for breakfast, I put a call in to Gen. Little while I waited for my
food to arrive.


Morning General, Jon David here. I told you I

d get back with you today.


Good
morning to you, Captain. What have you got for me?


As it stands right now, there will need to be an extraction
of no more than two from the roof of the Marriott Waterside in Tampa at 1820
hours. Are you familiar with it? My sources tell me the building does have a
helo pad, sir, I just don

t know if it will be lit.


No
problem. I

ve
stayed there. I

ll
make sure it

s
lit. My aide will notify them, anonymously of course, that a VIP is flying in
tomorrow night before 1900. They

ll
leave the lights on. Don

t
like surprises. Do I need to bring security?


I don

t think so sir. Better safe than sorry. I

ll let you make that call.


And
where are we going from there, Captain?


Southwest Florida International.


Copy
that. Anything else I need to know, you call me, 1820 tomorrow. Marriott
Waterside ... Confirmed.

I
pushed my food back and forth across the plate until it was cold. I wasn

t hungry. Too many details
still to iron out left me hanging off the ledge. Seeking a small degree of
solace I called Candi ... It went straight to voice mail. I forgot Marcy flew
in late last night. I sent her a text.

What
I could control I did, stopping by the business center and confirming late
night departures out of Florida International. I found the two I wanted,
leaving non-stop at 10:05 PM and 10:45 PM, respectively. They weren

t full flights by any means.
But, I was getting ahead of myself. This was a trip for two, better still for
three, counting the dog.

By
9 AM, I had checked out of the Plaza and was on I-4 west driving to Ft. Myers,
just a shade over four hours away. Passing through Orlando, trapped in the
smothering highway congestion that the almighty tourism dollar brings, I had a
major epiphany. Maui, my first choice, could eventually become just like this

God Bless Us, America. I pulled the trigger again. I should
be going where I can blend in with others who unselfishly give more than they
receive. I needed a second opinion

Major
and I rolled into Ft. Myers sometime around two and drove straight to the long
distance shipper. Surprisingly, in less than an hour all the forms and
paperwork were filled out to ship my truck, sans the trailer and the bike, west
or north. What they needed the most, I couldn

t provide

an exact physical address to ship to. That would have to
come later.

I
bought Major an oversized crate, complete with a memory foam fitted bed at
PetSmart, along with two giant rawhide chews to keep him entertained during his
confinement. Then I found a J.C. Penney and bought two pieces of luggage. Next,
I checked into a ground floor room at the Holiday Inn on Airport Row. After
unloading the dog, his crate, my clothes, my bags and the bike, I dropped my
truck off at the shipping office. Nice enough folks, whose employees were kind
enough to give me a ride back to the hotel to keep me from calling a cab.

While the dog and I waited for
the surprise rain shower to quit, I texted Gio:

Hey Pal. Tell me what you know
and what you don

t.

After fifteen plus minutes, Gio
replied with multiple texts in no particular order.
I bet it took him that
long to type. That’s mean, even for a little prick to say.

Ciao
D. What I know. We table of 4. Marcy come. Her Momma, Joseph, table 12. 4
heavy.

Heavy as in carrying concealed weapons,
I surmised.
Ha
... I’m not as dumb as I look.

Mgr
 
do what
 
I say. Big Tip. U Have Hr. No C movie
... Candice say NO!

Which meant it was up to me to
get her to say yes. Better still, if she could burn me two copies on DVDs to
fit into jewel cases along with two very important CD’s. I replied:

Thanks Gio. I owe you. We

ll
talk tomorrow late. Meet me by pool at the Marriott, 7 PM sharp.

And then I rested my eyes watching
Major break in his new bed. His sleeping, I soon discovered was contagious. I
woke up at 3:30 and found three missed calls from Candi. For some dumb reason
that now escapes me, I’d left the phone on vibrate.

Since
I was still in my clothes, I took Major for his long overdue walk. I now
remember why I never liked south Florida. It

s as muggy at night as it is
in daylight. We made two trips along Airport Row and back. My shirt, because of
the heavy humidity, melted into my back. Yuk!

Since
5:30 breakfast was still an hour away, all I could scavenge was last nights

coffee. It would have to do. Back in the room, I flipped on
the news and zoned out, wondering what the day along with the night would
bring.

When
I put this plan together I was counting on shock and awe

the element of surprise, a room full of witnesses and a
willing participant jumping at the chance to run away with me. What I didn

t anticipate was the radical
change in me that had occurred on my way here. I was now seeking service above
solitude.
Go figure. So much for writing a book.

Maui, Hawaii is by far the most beautiful place in the world
by many standards, including mine. I spent three glorious days in an Embassy
Suites watching hump back whales swim leisurely back and forth along the beach,
not fifty yards from my room. Then there’s the diamond in the rough. Hana,
population 1200, is located four hours away from anywhere and offers a temperate
climate, seclusion, privacy and unsurpassed beauty. I even believe Charles
Lindberg retired and died there. Thankfully, I’m not ready to retire or die
— not yet anyway.

Which
brings me to my second and final option, Corner Brook, Newfoundland, population
20,000. Years ago, I persuaded three friends to go on a moose, caribou hunt on
an island in the middle of Newfoundland, which, itself is an island in the
North Atlantic. Long story short, our guns, our gear, our luggage never made it
out of Boston. But we sure as hell did, never dreaming our luggage would never
catch us before we were dropped into a remote tent camp by helo.

Before
us, an eight-day hunt. Behind us, our guns, our gear, our clothes sitting
securely inside Boston Logan with no way to retrieve them. Within ten minutes
of landing, Punch, our outfitter, passed around a yellow legal pad around
asking us to write down our clothes sizes, shoe sizes, coat sizes as well as
the caliper of gun we shot. Satisfied he had all the information he needed, he
called in the supply chopper and disappeared. The next morning two choppers
landed bringing us two of everything we listed, half of which was brand new.
Seems the story of four stranded yanks went viral. Picked up by the radio
stations, our dilemma passed through Corner Brook like wildfire and people from
a fifty-mile radius delivered everything we needed for the week and more.

Newfie

s, as they

re commonly called in jest
by other mainland Canadians, could very well use my gifts and talents, while
offering me a like minded community to establish new and deeper roots.

Paying
it forward begins at home. Random, unselfish acts of kindness is a trait
Newfoundlanders must be instilling in their children at birth. To me, Corner
Brook, and possibly all the rest of Newfoundland, is, to some degree,
everything I

ve been searching for in my quest of Mayberry. Although, I
dreamed of Maui, Corner Brook was calling my name, only louder.

Another lingering question ...
would Candi hear it, too?

Chapter
78

I
t
was now half past six. Candi, by my calculations, had slept enough. I texted
but got no reply. I called three times, no answer. At least it rang. I called
again.


D,
do you know what time I went to sleep this morning? I tried calling you last
night

three times. You didn

t answer. I thought
something was terribly wrong.


Candi, do you know what time I got up?


Probably
about the same time I went to bed. Marcy worried with me. Besides, we had a lot
to catch up on.


Time flies when you

re having fun, huh baby?


I

m so tired.
Can you wait until I wake up before you start making jokes?


Grab a nap, then a shower. Call me later.


I

ll grab a
shower

a cold one. I

ll
call you back, K?


Bye, baby.

I visited the breakfast room while I waited for Candi to
call. Other than some black tea and an English muffin with peanut butter,
nothing else looked appealing. It wasn

t the diverse food choices
Holiday Inn provided, it was me. My appetite had waned since Candi left. I was
apprehensive about tonight. Hard choices, harder decisions that had to be made
today, tonight. Otherwise, I would spend the rest of my life sleeping with one
eye open.

My
phone vibrated, then rang.

Morning, Candice, are you awake now?


Not
entirely ... But, it

s
the best you

re
going to get on three hours of sleep.


Remember, I told you there would come a time when you had
to make some hard decisions? This is not the time. It will come soon enough.
This morning, I

d like to ask you some hypothetical questions.


Baby,
you woke me up just to ask me hypothetical questions?


It

s important to me.


Go
ahead, D. Fire away.


I

m going to paint you a picture

a scenario if you will. Answer truthfully and honestly.
There are no right or wrong answers here. Let

s suppose you were given two
choices where you could spend the next chapter of your life. One is by far the
most beautiful place in the world. Ideal year round temps, blue water,
cascading waterfalls into shallow pools, lush green forests near a small town
with less than 1200 people, mostly mainlanders looking to retire in paradise.


It
sounds too good to be true.


It

s real, I promise you. The second place has mild summers
and harsh winters; fourteen feet of snow a year, blustery cold winds off the
North Atlantic, an abundance of wildlife, moose, caribou and bear; and by far,
20,000 of the nicest, most unselfish, giving, genuine people you

ll ever meet. Here

s my question, which place
would you choose?


Before
I met you, what you first described would fit me to a tee. Paradise. I used to
dream of lounging in a hammock on a private beach and spending my days sipping
Mai Tais. The second place you mentioned sounds beautiful, yet brutal. But, it

s the people
you describe that live there that sets it apart from the first one. They sound
so much like the qualities I

ve
come to appreciate in you. Therefore, I choose that one.

I
exhaled a sigh of relief.

You

ve grown up quite a bit since we met, Candice Parker. Who
would have thought six months ago you would choose substance over style? Go
figure.


What

s this about,
D? Are you going to tell me or not?


I am. Until then, I

m afraid I

m going to have to ask you
to trust me a little longer. That being said, I need you to burn two DVD

s of the video you made with
Joseph. Then I want you to give them to Giovanni.


I
can

t.
I wouldn

t
chance those getting out

ever.


Baby, this is bigger than you, bigger than Joseph,
certainly bigger than me. As long as I

m alive and you two aren

t together, he won

t stop looking for me.


D,
as far as he knows you

re
history.


But, I

m not and therein lies the problem. One careless move, one
casual photograph and the chase resumes, Candi. I watched three people die
needlessly last week because of his jealously.


You
didn

t
tell me that. Was Donnie one of them?


I can

t say; I

m sorry.


I

ll do it,
D.
 
But if this gets out, Joseph is
history.


That

s what I

m counting on. Not for him to die mind you, just for him to
know that the risk he takes is far greater than the reward he receives.


When
will I hear from you again?


Soon, baby. Soon, I promise. Kisses.

I pressed end. I had my second opinion.


Major, we

re far from finished on this
ride. Be patient with me a little while longer. I

m beginning to see a glimmer
of light at the far end of the tunnel.

BOOK: Ride to Restoration (Ride Series Book 2)
8.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

SHADOWLOVE--STALKERS by Conn, Claudy
I Love You More: A Novel by Jennifer Murphy
Hawthorne by Sarah Ballance
Dirty Little Freaks by Jaden Wilkes
Just Like a Man by Elizabeth Bevarly