Autumn Dreams (43 page)

If she had been able to pry her fingers loose from the wheel, Cass would have slapped a hand over her mouth to hold back the bile rising in her throat. Slowly, slowly she moved through the water. As little waves eddied out from the tires, she asked, “How high does water have to be to short out the motor?”

“Who knows?” Tuck’s free hand played a nervous tattoo on his thigh. “Who cares?”

Cass turned east toward the ocean as a great gust struck them broadside. The car shuddered and skidded.

“Where are you going?” Tuck’s voice sounded tight with fear for the first time.

“The roads are less flooded this way. It’s bayside that’s the problem.”

As she inched along, she glanced in her rearview mirror, then looked again in astonishment. She swallowed a hysterical urge to
laugh. Turning the corner behind her were a silver BMW, a blue Software Solutions van, Mike’s clunker, and her own car. She was leading a parade.

She glanced at Tuck. He obviously had no idea they were being followed. He was too busy playing the drums on his thigh and shaking his foot in a colossal, jittery fit of nerves. His handgun was now aimed at the dashboard while he scanned the road ahead.

Cass drove steadily on, the curb-deep water rippling out in waves as the car passed. A block from the ocean she turned right as she pondered whether a highly nervous Tuck was better or worse than the nasty one back at the house.

“Where are you going?” he demanded, turning the gun back on her. “Why did you make that turn?”

“Because the ocean’s there.” She pointed. “We had to turn.”

He blinked. “But why did you turn right?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to turn left?”

“I want you to turn the way that will get us off this island.”

She swallowed. She knew what happened to bearers of bad news. “I told you. We can’t get off island.”

He swung toward her and in a lightning-fast move grabbed a fistful of her hair. He jerked her head toward him. She cried out in pain and fear. She couldn’t see the road! Their eyes met for an instant, and Cass couldn’t tell who was the more scared, she or Tuck.

“I can’t see where we’re going!” she cried.

“Get us off this island!” He released her hair and shoved her from him. She crashed against the door.

Talking to himself, he swiveled in his seat, seeking some clue to the best route to take. In the driving rain, all street names were obscured, all directional signs unreadable. Even if they had been legible, Cass doubted they’d have helped him. She herself was offering no help.

Tuck turned all the way around to look behind them, and Cass felt him jerk when he spotted the procession behind them.

“What’s that?” he shouted. “Who are they? What do they want?”

She glanced in her mirror and watched as a police car fell into the line, driving side by side with Dan.

Tuck saw too and hissed his distress. He raised his revolver, resting it on the top of his seat, aiming it out the back window. She heard the click of the safety releasing.

“No!” Cass screamed and swerved. Tuck lost his balance and slammed against his door. The gun went off as his hand jerked, and the bullet pinged as it flew through the roof.

“You little—” He pushed away from the door, his face crimson with rage.

Cass hit the automatic window buttons and the front windows whizzed down. Rain and wind poured in, inundating a surprised Tuck, drenching his already saturated sweatshirt.

“What the—” He reached for the button on his side, Cass momentarily forgotten, but before he could act, a plastic trash can, the kind that people often have in bathrooms, bounced against the car. He looked to see what had made the noise just as it flew in his downed window and struck him in the face. As he raised his hands protectively and yelped in shock and pain, his revolver fell to the floor.

While he struggled with the can, trying to push it back out the window, Cass grabbed his rifle, which was resting against the console. Heart beating frantically for fear he’d turn and see what she was doing, she pulled it across herself and heaved it out her open window. She grinned when she heard the splash. She looked at Tuck’s revolver resting on the floor at his feet and knew there was no way she could reach it.

Finally, Tuck pushed the trash basket out the window and hit his window button. “Close your window, blondie, and I mean now!” He grabbed his gun from the floor, leaned over, and held it to her temple again. He vibrated with fury. With regret and a very shaky finger she raised her window.

He settled back in his seat, his foot tapping, tapping, tapping. Every few seconds his head jerked to check the cars behind him.

Cass kept her eyes straight ahead. “Why don’t you give it up?” She was pleased that her voice was almost steady.

He looked at her, obviously scandalized at the idea. “I’m not giving up. I’m never giving up. We’re going to the Caribbean.” He gestured with his gun. “Keep driving.”

To the Caribbean? As Cass thought of sun-swept beaches and
blue, blue waters, the rain stopped. At the same time, the wind became a mere whisper of sound.

“It’s over!” Tuck was gleeful as he stared at the sky, squinting at the sun. “Now we can go.”

“It’s not over,” Cass said. “It’s the eye of the storm. “It’ll start up again in just a little while.”

They drove over a stretch of road that in Seaside was a hill, though anywhere else it would be the slightest rise. The result was that they drove out of the water flooding the streets, though a stream still flowed along the gutter.

“See?” Tuck pointed. “The roads are drying already. Turn that corner.”

Cass did and a figure appeared, hand held out in a halt sign.

“Ignore him. Keep going,” Tuck said.

“We can’t. We have to stop and ask what’s wrong.” Cass slowed the car.

“I said keep going!”

“I can’t!” Cass didn’t have to feign the fear in her voice. “We have to find out what’s the trouble.”

Tuck made an indecipherable but distinctly unhappy noise.

Cass rolled her window down again. “What’s the trouble?”

“Wire down,” the man called. “We’re waiting for the electric company. You have to go around.”

She waved her understanding and raised her window.

She looked at Tuck. “We have to turn around.”

“No, we don’t. We can’t. They’re back there.” He jerked his thumb.

“We can’t drive through this water,” Cass said, desperate.

“It’s okay.” Tuck sounded almost cheerful—which made Cass’s skin crawl. “The downed wire is no problem. The tires will protect us.”

Cass stared at him. “No, they won’t! That’s a myth.”

He poked her in the ribs with the gun. “I am not stupid,” he said quietly, grimly. “Don’t try to be clever. You will not trick me.”

“I’m not trying to trick you!” Each time she tried to pull farther from him, he and his gun followed until she was pinned against her door.

“Drive straight ahead or else.”

Cass looked at his wild eyes, then at the deceptively innocuous water filling the street ahead from curb to curb. “No! I’m not driving into water that could electrocute me. You can shoot me if you want, but I won’t do it.”

He raised his gun and Cass closed her eyes.

C
ASS HELD HER
breath. She huddled against her door, waiting, waiting.

Lord, I don’t want to die! I just found Dan! I can’t leave the kids. And what about Mom?

When nothing happened immediately, she realized she was cowering, and she hated herself for that weakness. If she could tell the brothers off over BB, she could stand up to Tuck. She opened her eyes and gulped. He was staring at her, his face twisted with emotion, his hand shaking. It was obvious he was not a well man.

She straightened her spine and stared back. She was not going to make shooting her easy.

A rap sounded on Tuck’s window. Cass’s eyes widened at the sight of Greg Barnes standing there, his side arm drawn and pointing at Tuck. Tuck spun to the noise and stared openmouthed, his gun dipping in his surprise.

“Freeze!” Greg yelled, looking remarkably dangerous with his two-handed grip on his revolver and his no-nonsense police face. Tuck froze.

At the same time, Cass’s door flew open and Dan yanked her out and down. They landed in a puddle of water along the curb, but Cass didn’t care. She was free! She wrapped her arms around Dan and held on. She buried her face in his chest and tried not to cry.

As Greg opened Tuck’s door and dragged him from the car, Dan helped Cass to her feet. At the same time three Software Solutions people poured out of their blue van, another from Mike’s clunker, and one from Cass’s own car. They gathered around the dripping Cass and Dan.

“Are you okay?” Dan leaned back, searching her face.

She nodded, still clinging to him.

“What’s this?” He rubbed at her chin.

She flinched. “I fell.”

Dan’s face darkened and he glared at Tuck, now spread-eagled against Greg’s car.

“But I’m okay,” she said, sniffling, pulling from his embrace. “Really I am.”

Greg put a handcuffed Tuck in the back of his car. “I’ll contact you later, Cass. I want to get him back to the station before the storm starts again.” With a wave he climbed in his vehicle and drove away just as the electric company truck arrived.

Cass leaned against Dan and looked at all her rescuers. “Thank you all so much!”

“Mighty Max saves the day,” called one of the Solutions men.

“Rescues the beautiful damsel from the wicked ogre.”

“Keeps her from getting electrocuted.”

“Keeps her from being shot.”

“Keeps her from being swept out to sea by the brutal storm.”

Cass was struck by an urge to giggle. These Solutions people were consistent, if nothing else.

Dan carefully tucked Cass into his passenger seat, then paused. He leaned in and kissed her hard, a kiss of possession. They drove home as the wind began to roar once again and the heavens opened up.

The next morning Cass was at the breakfast table drinking coffee when Dan appeared. “Hey,” she greeted, smiling broadly. She didn’t want him to know how fragile she felt because she knew he’d worry. Post-traumatic stress syndrome. She’d slept with her light on all night, not that she’d slept much. She kept feeling guns pressed against her temple.

“Um,” he muttered as he poured himself a mugful.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. She’d never seen him sullen before. “I called the hospital. Brenna’s doing fine. She’s going to hurt for a while, but she’ll be up and about in no time. Isn’t that great news? The police think she probably moved at the crucial time, and the shot got her shoulder instead of her chest.”

“Um,” he said again, burying his nose in his mug.

With determined goodwill, Cass continued. “Her mother and stepdad have arrived. Poor people. They’re getting their daughter back on the one hand, but their son is going to jail for attempted murder.”

To her surprise, Dan glared at her.

“What’s the matter with you? I just gave you good news.” She got up to refill her cup. “Get up on the wrong side of the bed?”

He ignored her and took a long drink of coffee. She could tell something was bothering him, and he was struggling to keep his emotions in check. Well, she was too. After all, she was the one who had the gun at her head yesterday, not him. She was the one forced to drive for a deranged man. But she wouldn’t let such memories get the best of her. She decided to give perky another try.

“Isn’t it a beautiful day? Sunshine and fluffy clouds. No rain. No wind. And no bad guys lurking.”

He moved so fast he was on her before she saw him coming. He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a shake.

She blinked and batted at him. “What? Dan! Let go!”

He did. He took a step back, then another. “I had nightmares all night. Look.” He held out his hand, and she was amazed to see it was shaking. “You did that.” He glared at her again.

“Me? What did I do?”

“What did you
do?
You ran right into the middle of a murder attempt! That’s what you did.”

“Well, yeah, but I was trying—”

“I don’t care what you were trying to do!” He leaned down, nose to nose with her. “Don’t ever do it again!”

Cass’s frayed nerves frayed a bit more. She narrowed her eyes. “Are you giving me orders?”

“What if I am?”

“You are not my brothers! No one gives me orders anymore!”

“You’re darn right I’m not your brothers,” he said from between gritted teeth.

Cass shivered at the heat in his gaze, feeling her anger drain. She grinned at him.

“But the fact remains,” he continued, ignoring her friendly smile, “you obviously need a keeper.”

Her resentment flared anew. “And that’s you, I suppose?”

“It certainly is, lady. No one else. Ever.”

If he hadn’t hissed the words through those clenched teeth, his frown dark enough to make a puppy cower, Cass might have taken them better. Instead she yelled, “Ha!”

“Don’t
ha!
me. I’m in no mood.”

“You’re in a mood, all right. And I can take care of myself, thank you. I’ve been doing it for forty years, and I don’t need some bossy man messing things up at this late date!”

“You certainly need someone,” he roared, reaching for her.

She ducked under his arms and ran out the back door, her heart beating so fast she thought it would shatter itself on her ribs. “Well, not you, big boy!” she yelled back over her shoulder, only to find him right behind her. She ran between her house and the derelict house next door, turned, and faced him, hands on hips. “Leave me alone!”

“Don’t worry. I will as soon as I strangle you for being so stupid.” He stalked toward her, the sun shining on his deep red hair and his steely navy eyes. She’d never seen anyone so handsome. Oh, how she loved him.

“Hey, Missy!”

Automatically Cass turned to find Mr. Carmichael standing on his front porch. He smiled and waved. Disoriented at his friendliness, Cass waved back.

“Are you ready to sell yet, Mr. Carmichael?” she called out of habit.

“Already sold,” he called back, his whiny voice sounding almost happy.