Autumn Dreams (41 page)

“What you did to your mom and Hank was unkind—”

“Cruel. Selfish.” Brenna wasn’t going to be easy on herself.

Cass nodded. “Okay. But it wasn’t the worst thing the world has ever seen.”

“Well, no. It wasn’t the Holocaust or anything, but
I
did it. Me.” Despair filled her voice.

“But Christ did more.”

They were silent for a minute, considering the depths of Christ’s sacrifice.

“I think you need to make that visit, Brenna, honey, with or without Mike. Your mother needs to see you.” In the distance Cass heard the front door open and slam shut. The software people?

“Do you know that she cries when I call?” Brenna picked at the seam of her jeans. “Somehow she’s figured out it’s me, and she cries. She says my name over and over and begs me to come home.”

“There you are, sweetie. See, she loves you.”

“But Mike.”

“It’s only for a short time. You’re not leaving him. You’re just going home to visit with the folks.”

Brenna nodded. “I told him that. But he thinks I’m in danger.”

Surprise rippled through Cass. “How are you in danger?”

“He thinks that the things that have happened to us the past couple of nights are aimed at me. Two smoke bombs at two disparate places.”

“Two smoke bombs?” This was news to Cass.

“There was one at our apartment building last night. No one was hurt, but a lot of people spent a lot of time in the driving rain.” She paused, then announced dramatically, “And I’m the common link between SeaSong and our apartment.”

“The attacks are aimed at you.” Cass mulled the idea over. “But why?”

“I don’t know. I’ve thought and thought, but I don’t know.”

As they sat in silence for a moment, thinking, the swinging door to the reception area swung open. Mike’s thin face appeared. Cass watched as he scanned the kitchen, then looked over to the sitting area.

“Brenna.” He stepped into the room and came over to her.

She looked up and began to cry in earnest. “Oh, Mike!” She threw herself into his arms.

“Easy, baby. Easy.” He held her tightly with one arm while he patted her on the back with the other.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice muffled by his wet coat.

“It’s my lunch hour, and I needed to talk to you.” He took her by the shoulders and set her away. “I wanted to say that I’ve been thinking some more, and you’re right.”

“Yeah?” She blinked eyes heavy with tears. “About what?”

“Going home. You should go home.”

“Just me?” She looked panicked. “Alone?”

He shook his head. “I should never have put you in the position where you have to choose between your mom and me. You need us both.”

“Oh, Mike!” Brenna’s teary smile radiated as she lunged for him again.

He returned her hug. “I still think you’re in danger, but that’s here in Seaside for some reason. And if I’m with you, maybe I can keep you safe in L.A.”

“Hello? Anyone here?” a voice called even as the bell on the registration desk jingled.

Cass stood. Software Solutions had arrived.

O
KAY, GUYS,” CASS SAID
, grabbing her raincoat and her Indiana Jones hat. “Time to help the new guys move in.” She pushed through the swinging door to the registration area just as Dan came jogging downstairs, slicker in hand.

“Hi,” she said to the skinny, bedraggled man dripping all over the entry hall. He wore a bright blue plastic parka that read Software Solutions across the back in bright yellow, a light bulb dotting the
i
in
Solutions
. The hood was pushed back from his disordered hair, and from the looks of him, the parka hadn’t been particularly effective. But then Rodney was no ordinary rainstorm. A category one hurricane carried winds up to ninety-five miles per hour.

The man must have read her mind because he looked down at his parka and said, “They seemed like a good idea when the ad man visited. Neither he nor we counted on a hurricane to test them out.” He smiled wryly.

“You’re lucky it wasn’t blown completely off,” Cass grinned back at him. She liked his attitude. “Welcome to SeaSong.”

“I’m Connor McKee, by the way. VP at SS.” He stuck out a wet hand and shook first Cass’s hand, then Dan’s. “Whew! Are we glad we made it. I didn’t think
driving would be this bad, but keeping that van on the road was murder. I think we’re one of the last cars across the bridge. The police were about to close it.”

“Really?” Cass was surprised. The Thirty-fourth Street Bridge arched far above the bay, unlike the causeway which was flat except for the section of bridge that could be raised for boats to pass.

“Yeah, the wind blowing up there makes it almost impossible for you to have any control. And you can feel the bridge shudder.” He shuddered. “And the street just this side of the bridge is barely passable. The car throws up fountains, you know?” He made broad wave motions with each hand to illustrate. “Doesn’t matter how slow you’re going. It’s like the wind’s blowing the entire bay ashore.” He looked around the dry comfort of SeaSong. “We’re not moving until this thing is over!”

Cass understood completely. She’d been so relieved when she and Dan got home, and the wind seemed to have picked up in just these last few minutes. “Now let’s get you all in and up to your rooms so you can get dry. Lunch is almost ready.”

As she and Dan followed Connor McKee out the door, Brenna and Mike came from the kitchen to offer their assistance in getting the new guests settled. Brenna’s eyes were still red, but she was smiling as she and Mike clasped hands. She looked at Cass and made a discreet circle with the thumb and forefinger of her free hand. Cass nodded and winked.

The wind slammed into Cass at her first step onto the porch, and she did a quick two-step to the side to catch her balance. Both Connor and Dan reached for her, but she had righted herself before they grabbed her. She put up a hand. “Thanks. I’m all right.” She tied the scarf she’d looped over her hat even tighter.

They stepped down into the deluge, the rain slashing Cass across the face, the wind tugging at her hat. She pulled it down almost to her ears, trying to snug it enough that it stayed where it belonged. She tightened the scarf again. Already a stream of water poured from the brim.

The bright blue van at the curb sported the yellow words
Software Solutions
and the light bulb logo of the company just like Connor’s rain parka. The vehicle’s windows were so steamed on the inside that Cass couldn’t see the passengers, but as she and the others approached, the doors popped open. Five men and one
woman climbed out, all sporting identical blue parkas. Immediately the wind blew them up around everyone’s ears, then tore the hoods free.

The woman grabbed the van handle to keep her balance, laughing as she did.

“This is so cool!” yelled one man who looked about sixteen but whom Cass assumed must be at least twenty-two and a college graduate. His glasses were so rain coated that his eyes shimmied behind them. He held his hands wide and turned his face to the sky. He opened his mouth and tried to catch the rain.

“They didn’t drive,” a disgruntled Connor shouted over the roar of the maelstrom. “They still have all their nine lives.”

“New computer game,” yelled another man. “Weather calamities. Hurricanes. Tornadoes. Tidal waves.”

“Earthquakes,” yelled another.

“Avalanches!”

“Cyclones!”

“How are cyclones different from tornadoes?”

“One goes one way and the other the other.”

“Yeah?”

“Mighty Max and Midge!”

“Fighting against huge hailstones!”

“In a plane or a boat or on skis.”

“Up in a balloon!”

“A flood from a dam break!”

“Like Johnstown!”

An aluminum chair sailed past, lethal in its force. The SS crew, holding on to the car or each other, watched it rocket toward the beach, bouncing off cars as it went.

“Cool,” yelled one.

“Way cool,” yelled another.

All this wild conversation flew as the back of the van was opened and everyone’s luggage was pulled out. Every time Cass reached for a piece, someone snatched it first. Brenna was still empty handed too. Laughing, they lunged forward for the two remaining pieces just as Cass heard a loud
crack!

“A gun?” said Connor McKee.

“Mighty Max and Midge holding off the world terrorists,” one of the SS men shouted.

“In a hurricane.”

“A cyclone.”

“An avalanche.”

But Cass ignored them as she heard Brenna cry in pain and felt the girl slump against her.

Tuck couldn’t believe his luck, though he thought it was about time something went right. He’d looked out the window again, risking disease from the filthy curtains, just to see how violent the storm was in order to judge whether his father and Patsi could get through, and there was Kevin climbing out of his car and running into SeaSong.

Well, well. Where Kevin was, Sherri couldn’t be far behind.

Tuck smiled, got down on his hands and knees, and pulled his rifle from under the bed. A hutchful of dust bunnies came along, and he had to dust the gun before he could attach the scope. His movements broke open some of the scabbing on his hands, and they ached worse than any toothache he’d ever had. Their swelling made his movements awkward and clumsy.

He opened the window a smidgen, just far enough that he could slip the barrel of the gun through. He ignored the rain that blew in the opening. For once, cold drafts were of no concern.

Which door should he watch? He thought a minute and settled on both, though he favored the front. That’s where Kevin’s car was. He thought Sherri would at least come out to wave him on his way. That’s what Patsi always did when his father left, and personally Tuck thought it was pathetic. It was like saying
here I am; don’t forget me; don’t look at someone else; come home to me, please
.

As he knelt, nerves jumping in anticipation, eyes focused on the front of SeaSong, a bright blue van pulled up. He squinted, trying to read through the rain. Software Solutions. He frowned. A van of computer geeks. Now there was a party waiting to happen.

One guy jumped out of the driver’s seat and raced inside the house. Tuck wondered idly if they were looking for a place to stay or if they had reservations. Not that it mattered. His eyes narrowed. What mattered was that they had gotten onto the island in spite of the flooding streets. If they could do it, so could Hank and Patsi.

His eye twitched. Time was running out.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Tuck swung to the door of his room and there stood the old man, a fleck of his morning egg still caught at the corner of his mouth.

Tuck ground his teeth in frustration. He had forgotten to shut the door when he came back from his shower. Dumb, dumb! Now he had to avert another catastrophe.

He lowered his rifle and turned to the old man. One punch ought to do it for now. Or a push down the rickety stairs.

“You’re going to shoot someone!” The old man turned to run. “I’m going to tell!”

Tuck started after him, but a blur of movement stopped him before he took more than two steps. People were coming out of SeaSong and more people were jumping out of the van. Sherri? Kevin?

He fell back to his knees and searched for his quarry. He would deal with the old man later. He wasn’t going anywhere in this weather.

And there she was, helping gather luggage. He lifted the rifle, looked through his very expensive, highly sophisticated laser scope, and homed in on his target. Humming to himself, he pulled the trigger.

Bingo!

“Brenna?” Cass turned and took the girl’s weight in her arms, suitcases forgotten. “Brenna!”

“I’m okay,” Brenna muttered, though clearly she wasn’t. She couldn’t even hold herself erect.

“What’s wrong?” Cass asked. Then she felt a warm stickiness under her palm where she grasped Brenna’s shoulder. She looked and saw a trail of crimson flowing from beneath her hand to wash away in the torrent of water beating on them.

Brenna’s head fell back as she lost consciousness. Staring in horror, Cass tried to keep the girl from falling into the street where water ran to curb height. She could drown if she fell. “She’s been shot!”

“I’ve got her, Cass. You can let go.”

Cass stared at Dan blankly. Brenna had been shot! People didn’t get shot, not people she knew. Lowlifes and TV characters got shot, not friends.

“Cass!” Dan kicked her gently in the shins. “Let go. I’ve got her.”

Cass looked at him, affronted. “You kicked me.”

“My arms are full,” he explained. “Now let go of Brenna so I can get her inside.”

Cass shook her head to clear it and stepped back. Connor, who had recognized the gunshot for what it was, raced ahead and opened the door for Dan.

Cass stood frozen, the rain beating on her back with a force that was painful. Brenna had been shot! An accident? Or on purpose? Mike thought she was in danger, but why? How?

Cass spun until she was standing where Brenna had been standing. Where had the shot come from? Behind her was the boarding house across the street on one corner and the tennis courts on the other. The house was closed for the season, and no one was on the tennis courts where the wind roared across the open space with enough force to blow a man off his feet.

No one could have shot Brenna from directly across the street without hitting Cass first, so that wasn’t where the shooter was. On the other side was SeaSong itself, and no one there had shot Brenna.

That left in front. Sudden movement caught Cass’s eye, and she looked up to see the curtains part at a second floor window of Mr. Carmichael’s house. A man stood there, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he held a rifle hanging muzzle down. He began to raise it, and Cass felt panic rise.

She’d found the shooter.

Dan laid Brenna carefully on the carpeted floor in the common area. Only he and Connor were still downstairs, the others having gone up to the rooms which Jenn and Jared were showing them. Connor had a cell phone at his ear as he told the 911 operator they needed an ambulance.