Swept Away (18 page)

“No midnight walks, understood?” Tucker said to Josie as they brushed their teeth.

“I won’t. Why are you worried?” She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek into his back. “Murray and Hetty are natural worriers. Don’t let them get you rattled. Jeb’s in jail, and trust me, my mother won’t say anything. She sued Jeb’s estate in a wrongful death suit. She got all his money for killing her daughter. Trust me, Mother loves that money way more than me. I wasn’t at all surprised she didn’t
recognize
me.”

He pulled her around to face him. “But you’re not dead.”

“Don’t. You’re letting them make you paranoid. My mother was a mean bitch, but she’s not a murderer. As long as Ariel Stone stays dead to the world, she will be happy.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m happy. I have you. I have our baby. That’s all I need.”

Tucker wrapped her up, kissing the top of her head. “I don’t feel sorry for you. I just want to make sure everything is smooth from here on out.”

“It will be.”

“So, why do I have a bad feeling?”

Taking a step back, she looked up at him. “Bad feeling?”

“Yeah, it’s like a nervous feeling in my gut. What if it wasn’t Stone who shot you?”

“It had to be him.” Josie wrapped her arms around his neck. “My poor, poor Tucker. You’ve been so worried; you’re probably just emotionally exhausted.” She gave him an ornery grin and asked, “So, what were you going to do? If I had been Maddy?”

Tucker buried his face in the curve of her neck. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m just happy as hell you’re not.”

“You were never going to tell me, were you?”

He held her tighter. Emotions he’d bottled for so long threatened to overwhelm him. He had no defense for his plans to deceive her.

Josie relaxed against him. “It’s all right… I was worried if you knew about Jeb—“

Tucker took a step back and stared down at her, his hands firm against her cheeks stopping her from looking away from him. “Don’t you ever think that, Josie. Don’t you ever blame yourself.”

“Now that you know—“

“I knew something happened. I didn’t know what, but the night of the storm...I knew. I wanted to talk to you about it, but I was stuck between wanting to help you and scared as hell you’d tell me you were Maddy.”

“When I was a little girl, he’d touch me and take pictures of me. As I grew older, he’d show me pictures of people having sex…and his touches became more…intimate. But it wasn’t until my sixteenth birthday that he…crossed the line. He told me no one cared about me, but him…that I belonged to him. My special birthday gift was him…coming into my room, and…” Her body started to shake.

Tucker pulled her closer, holding her tight against him. “It’s okay, Josie. He can’t hurt you anymore. He lied; the prick lied to you. You are so lovable. I love you. Any man would. I’m just the lucky son of a bitch to find you first.”

Josie nodded against his chest. “Tell me,” her words caught in her throat. She gripped his shirt, as she tried again. “Tell me I belong to you. That my body was made for you.”

“Oh Josie, sweetness.” He smoothed her hair. “When you said we were meant for each other, you were right. Now, listen to me, if a thief breaks into your home and steals something from you…it doesn’t mean it belongs to him. It’s still yours to take back. Love isn’t taken by force; it can only be given.”

“That night in the woods, you asked me if I had done it. I didn’t know how to answer.”

“It was your first.”

“But—“

“No buts. I had to bend over and grab my ankles while a doc stuck a finger up my ass in processing—that doesn’t mean I’m gay.”

Josie laughed, her body relaxing against him. “I cannot believe you just said that. You have such a way with words.”

“So, I’m not eloquent. But it’s bullshit you blame yourself.”

“I don’t. But I wanted to make sure you didn’t. I saw how people looked at me, questioned whether or not I was telling the truth…or whether or not it was consensual.”

“How the hell does a grown man have consensual sex with a kid? He’s a sick prick, and anyone who bought his story is an ignorant bastard.”

Josie laughed and gave him a squeeze around his middle. “Am I seeing the Morgan temper in you, Mr. Boone?”

“Well, it pisses me off. It’s—“

“Would you make me a cup of tea?”

“A cup of what?”

“Tea? There’s chamomile by the stove. I feel exhausted, but my brain is still going a mile a minute.”

“Of course,” he said. He gave her one last kiss before leaving her to finish getting ready for bed. As he heated the water and made the tea, he tried to feel as calm as Josie. She wasn’t Maddy; he should be on cloud nine. But he wasn’t. His gut still bugged him.

Carrying the mug in, he sat gently next to her so it didn’t spill. She sipped it with her eyes closed, her body visibly relaxing against the stack of pillows behind her.

“Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Tucker settled himself against his pillows, his arm shoved under his head.

“It was Robert who first bought me chamomile tea. I was never a very good sleeper, and when I’d spend the night with Maddy, he’d make it for me before I went to bed. He was the sweetest man.”

Tucker snorted. “Sounds like a real peach.”

“Is that sarcasm?” Josie asked setting her mug on the night stand.

“Sounds like he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants no matter what. He hears about a lead on his daughter and somehow ends up with your mom in a hotel?”

Josie looked up at him and grinned. “You followed a lead on Maddy and ended up with me.”

“Touché.” He stared at the ceiling. He was quiet several minutes before he said, “The difference is—Maddy was my sister. A sister I never met. Of course I gave up when I hit a couple of walls. But why would he? She was his daughter. Sounds like a scumbag to me.”

“But he wasn’t. He was a great guy.”

“The affair makes no sense.”

“My mother is a gorgeous woman. She usually got what she wanted.”

Tucker snorted. “Then why the hell would she want Rob Morgan? From what I saw, he had no money, no power.”

“But he was pretty hot for an old guy.”

“Holy shit, Josie, should I be jealous?”

She laughed. “Of course not. Though if he were twenty years younger…”

“Why you…you’re intentionally goading me.  Here, I thought you were so sweet, but you’re rotten. How did I not notice?”

Her laughter grew. “You were too busy knocking me up.”

In a single movement, he pulled her on top of him. His hands brushed through her hair. “Best mistake ever.”

She kissed him. Tucker held her cheeks in the palms of his hands. She was nothing more than soft flesh covering breakable bone. He’d seen too many people die to pretend life couldn’t fade away in an instant, and until this moment, he never realized how much that scared the hell out of him.

The storm returned with a vengeance. The fierce winds tore at the sand, ripping trees out by their roots as if they were weeds. A scream, a spine-chilling call for help, pierced Tucker’s ears.

“Josie,” he called. It was dark, too dark to see more than a few feet ahead. There was no rain, just dry winds whipping from every corner. Sand stung his eyes, making them water. Walking blindly through the winds, his foot stepped from pliable sand to something hard. Looking down, he saw the sign:
Forget Me Not Gifts.

Tucker sat up straight in bed. His heart raced, and his hands felt icy. Reaching out, he felt for Josie. She was gone.

“Damn it.” He yanked on his pants and practically ran from the cabin. The air was warm, carrying the sweet smell of gardenias. There was no storm, not a single cloud dotted the sky. Tucker strode to the cemetery, sure she would be there. She wasn’t. He checked at the pond, but still no sign of her.

Something wasn’t right.

Josie wouldn’t break a promise. He called Murray, waking him and Hetty up. They hadn’t seen her either. Tucker stood in the middle of the road, unsure of what to do or which way to go. “Come on, Josie. Where the hell are you?” he asked the darkness.   Every time he heard a leaf rustle or a cricket chirp, his heart raced. “Come on, think goddammit.” His jaw was tight and every muscle in his body was tense.

As he moved past the cemetery, a sound, like a whisper in his ear, flowed through his head:  
You can’t hear if you’re not listening.

Tucker spun in the road expecting to find someone behind him. He was still alone. Taking a deep breath, his heart rate slowed, and his breathing normalized. He’d question his sanity later, but for now, if all he had to help him were voices in his head, then he’d take them.

He closed his eyes and stilled his mind, trying his best not to think of Josie. As serenity passed through him, he saw, like a recalled memory, an image. White gardenias planted along a narrow sandy road jutted with roots and cast in shadows.

As quickly as it came, the vision was gone, and he was back in the middle of a gravel road. Looking around, past the white picket fences and clapboard houses, he spotted a thick grove of trees.  Tucker headed toward it. The sandy road was uneven and full of water-filled potholes, but was lined with the big white flowers he’d imagined.

The land rolled, dipping into a stagnant-looking stream. Water bugs and mosquitoes flitted on brackish water that glowed with the moonlight. On the other side of the stream, there was a rickety house with rusted out cars on the lawn and an old boat with cracked fiberglass hull. Hanging sideways by a lone grommet was the sign,
Forget Me Nots Gifts.
A dog barked from the porch, making his way to the steps and stopping. The black hair along his spine rippled, his teeth bared with each growl.

A curtain moved in the window as someone peeked out.

Tucker wished he’d thought to bring the gun. What the hell was he thinking?

The curtain closed, and the porch light flipped on. The girl from the thrift store stepped outside.

“Natalie? Do you remember me?” he asked.

“Of course, you’re my hero.”

“Have you seen Josie? The girl who was with me at the store?”

“Yeah. At least I think it was her. She ran down the road yelling for some girl—Maddy, maybe? It’s the road behind the house. It’s an old boating road that leads to a shallow cove. I don’t know where she’d be going. There’s nothing down that way. Not even a dock.” 

Tucker took off with the heavy smell of gardenia following him. He was on the right path. His steps quickened. The undergrowth thickened as he made his way out of the copse of trees. The road disappeared and the trees thinned, moonlight breaking through the canopy of leaves.  The sweet smell of flowers gave way to the smell of saltwater. Small waves lapped against the shore. Tucker saw movement. There were too many shadows to be one woman out walking. He crouched in the tall sea grass wanting to look before he was seen. The wind whipped the sharp edges against his cheeks.

A movement caught his attention. Moving slowly, he got closer. It was a man and a woman.

“What the hell? You trying to wake everyone up?” the man asked.

“It’s an ocean, Greg. People expect to hear boat motors.”

“I told you we’ll use the oars.”

“Fine,” the woman hissed. “Paddle if you want to.”

“I swear to God, if I didn’t love you, I’d be dumping two women in the ocean tonight.”

The woman’s laughter cut through Tucker. He left his grassy hiding spot, following a path that wound to the water. Moving quietly, he cringed with every snapped branch. In a narrow canal was a small skiff with an open top. A man stood in the boat, legs spread wide to keep it balanced as he wrestled with something on the bottom.

“You can’t let her thrash. She’ll sink the damn boat,” the man said.

“Then I guess she’d drown herself,” the woman snapped.

“And when they find her bound body, you have a murder investigation. Shit, Amanda, how many times do I have to explain things to you?”

“I don’t know, Greg, maybe one more time? Remember, this is my first time disposing of a body. You’re the expert, not me.”

“You can’t dump her in shallow water. The tide will push her body to shore. Out in the deep, properly weighted, she’s nothing but fish food.”

“Jesus, Greg, do you need to be so graphic? She is my daughter for God’s sake.”

The man grunted as he shoved the body-sized object to the center of the boat. “You wanted it spelled out, so stop bitching about it.”

Whatever was in the boat thrashed, causing the small craft to rock back and forth in the water. It wasn’t a thing in the boat, it was a who, and Tucker was certain it was Josie. And the bitch tying her up had to be her worthless mother. Getting as low as he could to the ground, he made his way to the boat. As he got closer, he heard muffled cries. It was Josie.

Amanda stood in the boat and gave Josie’s thrashing form a swift kick. “Stop being a pain in the ass, Ariel, or I swear, I’ll kick the shit out of you.” Then she turned to Greg. “I don’t know why we can’t just kill her here. This seems pointless to fight her in this friggin’ toy you call a boat.”

“Too bad you’re not half as smart as you are gorgeous—we row out to the boat we have anchored in international waters. We sink this boat with the little bitch in it. She’s gone, and so is every bit of evidence that we were ever here.”

“You really think I’m gorgeous?” Amanda asked.

“Of course, dear. Can we please just get going?” Josie tried to sit up, but one quick punch from Greg and her body went still.

Tucker wiped at the sweat that beaded on his brow and stung his eyes. Greg started unwinding the rope holding the boat to a tree along the bank.  Tucker moved fast. He had no weapon, but surprise was in his favor. Slipping into the water smoother than a croc, he swam to the edge of the boat. With all his might, he half tipped the tiny vessel. Greg fell, splashing into the water. Amanda screamed and grabbed the sides of the boat and held on. Tucker lunged for the man, grabbing him by the shirt and dragging him under. The water was well above his waist, and Greg was huskier, but shorter with a more limited reach. Tucker spun and wrestled him into a choke hold. Greg reached into his waistband. Tucker saw the gun and knocked it from his hand. It fell with a splash into the black water.

Tucker increased the pressure around the man’s neck. The man thrashed, feet dug in, stirring up the stale, rotten mud. The water quickly turned into a nasty, mud-thickened soup. The slimy mud made flesh slippery. Holding onto the man was more and more difficult. Tucker felt a red rage as the man dug into his arm with his nails. Tucker wrapped his elbow under Greg’s chin and squeezed. More pressure and the man began to calm.

The voice in his head told him to stop.  He needed the man alive. The woman jumped out of the boat and waded to the man. “Greg!”

Tucker slowly released his grip. He laid the man against the bank and turned his attention to Josie. She rolled to her side. Tears stained her cheek. When Tucker reached for her, she flinched. “It’s okay, Josie. It’s me.”  Her eyes were wide, and her body trembled. Tucker feared she was in a daze like the night of the storm. “Listen to me, Josie. You’re going to be all right. I’m going to untape you. I want you to run.” She shook her head. “Yes, you have to listen to me,” he said taking her hands in his. “You have to run. Get the hell out of here and get help.” She allowed him to peel away the tape from her wrists. Hands free, she pulled the tape off her mouth.

“She pretended to be Maddy.”  Josie’s words were quick and breathless.

Tucker started to work on her feet. She looked at him as if she was going to break down into tears. Then her eyes flicked above his shoulder, and she screamed, “Tucker! Behind you!”

Turning a half second too late, he saw the knife as it plunged into his side.  The pain was intense, then he felt numb. He dove at the woman. She tried to stab at him again, nicking Tucker’s face, but failing to sink deep into the flesh.

“Stop it! Stop it! Don’t you hurt him,” Josie yelled.

Trying to stay far enough away to keep from getting sliced, he said through gritted teeth, “Run, Josie. Damn it. Run.”

He heard her slide out of the boat and splash in the water. He felt a wave of relief that was short-lived. She didn’t run. Shoulder down, she rammed into Amanda and knocked her off her feet. Then Josie lunged at her, taking advantage of Amanda’s surprise, and shoved her under water.  Greg came up behind Josie and hit her in the head with an oar. Her body fell against the muddy bank and slid under the water. Tucker let loose a scream as he plowed through the muck trying to get to Josie as her body disappeared. Greg grabbed his shoulder, stopping Tucker in his path. Furious, Tucker spun around and head butted the man’s thick skull. Greg fell backward, toppling Tucker with him.

It wasn’t until they hit the ground that Tucker felt the knife jam into his gut one last time.  His only thought was Josie, unconscious and underwater. He tried to get to his feet and get to her, but his vision went black.