The Achilles Heel (30 page)

“Baby, did you hear what I said? What do you think?”

“Yeah, did our waiter seem funny to you?” she asked.

“What? I don’t know, annoying not funny.”

“No, I mean funny like out of place,” she said, starting to wring her hands together,
still looking around the patio.

“I didn’t notice. What’s wrong?” I asked, giving up hope of getting back to our previous
conversation.

She turned to me, her eyes growing wide as she lowered her voice. “Hutch said to keep
our eyes open, question things that don’t seem right and trust our gut. My gut says
this isn’t right. Look around the patio. There’s hardly anyone here, and no one but
the seagulls are clearing the dirty dishes from the tables. Our waiter is Middle Eastern.
Have you seen any other Middle Eastern men on this island? He barely spoke English.
Why would you wait tables if you don’t speak the language? He doesn’t have a uniform
or pad of paper to take down our order, and he hasn’t even set our table. This is
wrong, and I want to go, something doesn’t feel right,” she said, as she immediately
stood up and grabbed my hand, yanking me out of my chair.

“Jesus!” I yelled, not expecting the strength of her jerk and almost toppling over.
“Okay, we’ll go,” I said looking around, beginning to feel paranoid.

As soon as we stood up, the waiter came out of the double doors, quickly moving towards
us. I took Annie’s hand, pulling her close to me, standing on the opposite side of
the table from him.

“We’re leaving,” I said to him.

He just stood there staring at us, blocking our way out.

If he wasn’t moving, then I was going through him. As I lunged towards him he made
the strangest face, like someone had punched him in the ribs, and a stain appeared
on the chest of his white, v-neck T-shirt. I stopped, confused about what I saw.

What’s on his shirt, and why is it spreading? What the fuck is with this guy?

About the time I realized blood was soaking into his shirt, Annie screamed violently,
and the man dropped to his knees. He held one arm stretched out towards her and the
other hand in his pocket; a buck knife fell out as soon as his face hit the deck.
The backside of his shirt sported an identical bloody pattern to the one on the front,
with a gaping bullet hole through the middle.

ANNIE

I
never heard the gun go off, and was only standing ten inches away from him. We could
have been killed. I could have lost Kessler.

Was someone shooting at me? Were they shooting at Kessler? What the hell is going
on? I came to eat breakfast, not witness a murder!

Panic and chaos filled my insides. Trying to think and react, tunnel vision set in
and everything fuzzed out of focus. I was so far out of my element, out of the goddamn
atmosphere of Holly homemaker from Kansas City, and now can’t really remember how
I even got to this point, but here I was‌—‌bullets and breakfast.

Kessler held tight to my hand and screamed, “Run!” But as soon as we reached the patio
doors, Hutch fiercely swung them open on us, almost taking me out.

“I knew you’d be here!” he yelled in my face, taking off his sunglasses to reveal
a black eye and puffy cheek.

“Someone’s shooting on the patio! We’ve got to get out of here!” I yelled back at
him like a raging lunatic. “Don’t just stand there! We’ve got to go, Hutch!” I screamed
and pulled at his shirt until he started to follow us.

We ran through the diner and out to the parking lot. Kessler started the engine before
Hutch and I were even in our seats. The Jeep made an evil screech, tearing out of
the parking space and leaving thick black marks in our wake.

“What happened in there?” Hutch yelled over the noise of the Jeep racing down the
highway.

“It was all wrong! I just did what you told us to do and everything on that patio
was wrong this morning!” I yelled back. “You’re hurt! What happened to your face?”

“Some fucknut came around asking questions about you two last night, trying to intimidate
me, so I beat the shit out of his face! He managed to land a few!” he hollered, clearly
smiling over his victory.

“Middle Eastern? Was he Middle Eastern?” I shouted.

“How did you know?” Hutch screamed back.

Our waiter, it was our waiter that went to see Hutch. Maybe those are his diamonds.

“Llyod! This is Kessler Carlisle! I need you to immediately get my plane ready for
departure! This is an emergency!” Kessler yelled into his phone.

We came to a violent stop in the driveway; all of us being thrown forward when Kessler
slammed on the brakes.

“You two get what you can carry, and I’ll drop you off at the airport. Hurry!” Hutch
said.

I ran around Kessler’s house throwing my clothes in a bag; stuffing in as many toiletries
that would fit.

The diamonds! What am I going to do with them? We can’t leave them here and I can’t
show up at the airport with a purse full of them. How am I going to get them on the
plane? Think! Think!

“Hurry, Annie!” Kessler yelled from another room.

I ran downstairs and punched in the code 1492, and the safe door popped open. I carefully
took out the bags of diamonds, the picture and my fake passport and headed back up
to the kitchen where Hutch and Kessler were waiting for me.

“What’s the check-in process when you fly private?” I asked Kessler, still shouting,
with adrenaline pumping through me.

“We walk through a private security scanner, and then out to the runway and get on
the plane. It only takes a few minutes. Why?” he asked.

“When do they scan our carry-on luggage?” I repeated, beginning to calm down.

He smiled, staring at the purple velvet bags and finally catching onto my line of
questioning.

“When you fly private, freedom in traveling is a huge perk, especially when you’re
a celebrity. We don’t have to follow the same rules as the rest of the world. Pack
‘em!” he yelled.

I reached into the cabinet and pulled out my carton of smokes, discarding the packs
out onto the counter.

“Get me a sharp knife and some tape. I have a plan,” I said.

I turned over each box of cigarettes and cut a slit across the bottom, gently pulling
the box out of the cellophane, so it looked as though the pack had never been opened.
Dumping out all of the smokes on the counter, I replaced the empty box with a handful
of diamonds and slid the pack back into the cellophane, taping the bottom back together
and putting it back into the carton packaging.

“Nine more to go,” I said watching the color drain from Hutch’s face, remembering
I hadn’t told him about my trip to the bank yet.

“Holy, Mary, Mother of God!
This?
This is what was in the safe deposit box?” he asked in a whisper as he peeked inside
one of the bags.

“I know; I felt the same way,” I said, trying to stay focused. “You’re taking it way
better than me though. I almost passed out, and then I threw up.”

“This is incredible! I’ve just never seen anything like this!” he stuttered, finding
it hard to push the words out of his mouth.

Kessler jumped in to help me, and we made quick work of assembling a multi-million
dollar carton of Camels. I didn’t want to fill the packs too full for fear of the
cardboard busting open, so we ended up with a handful of diamonds leftover. I taped
and re-taped the carton closed, making sure it was secure before I set it in Louis;
my faithful traveling companion.

“Hutch, thank you for your service‌—‌not only to our country during Vietnam, but also
to me. You’re a good hearted man with values and life experience going way beyond
what most people in the world will ever give you credit for,” I said as I handed him
a Crown Royal bag, a handful of diamonds still resting in the bottom. “Keep these
and do what you please with them. We have more than enough, and since you have been
such a big part of my journey, they are just as much yours as they are mine.”

“No, please, I can’t take them. It’s too much!” he said, trying to hand them back
to me.

“I told you, buddy! I said from the first day I met her that she was a keeper!” Kessler
said putting an arm around him, then slapping his back.

“Let’s just call it cab fare and get the hell out of here,” I told him as I ended
our kum-ba-ya moment; manually closing his mouth with my hand.

***

When we arrived at the airport, I could have never predicted the amount of people
who recognized Kessler. The entire time we’ve been together on the island not one
person has even looked at him twice, but now, every ten feet we were stopped by another
adoring fan wanting an autograph or a picture, and he signed every one of them, despite
the events of the morning. I had yet to experience this part of his life and I’m sure
there will be times when I’ll want him all to myself, but right now, I was in awe
of his stature and friendly disposition in the middle of this growing crowd. Security
stepped in when our jet was ready for boarding, a perfect excuse to end the meet and
greet with the fans.

Security check was the last roadblock, and I shoved my hands into the deep pockets
of my long cotton skirt to prevent the incessant wringing of my fingers. Kessler and
I easily slipped through the metal harbor, and as he reattached his green-bezel Rolex,
the security officer grabbed my arm, saying, “You, wait,” as she held my purse in
her hands.

Shit! Shit, shit, shit!

Panicking inside but trying to camouflage the fear, I walked to the small section
blocked off by tables, behind the metal detectors. A stout woman in an overly-tight
uniform motioned for me to come closer, her biceps squeezing her shirt with each movement.
As I obeyed, she pulled out my carton of Camels, and that’s when I just about lost
my shit. She pointed to an ugly metal chair and I immediately sat. As she bent over
me, cupping my chin in her hands, a crowd of women began to fill in the empty space
around us, trying to get a picture of Kessler.

Bracing myself for the next moment, when cuffs went around my wrists or her fist through
my face, she said in the sweetest voice, “You’re too beautiful for these. This will
suck the white from your teeth and the joy from your life, leaving your man exposed
to these leeches.” She pointed to the gathering of overly anxious women. “You should
think about quitting. Okay?”

Floored but elated, I agreed, “Yes, ma’am, I will.”

“Okay, then. You have a nice day,” she added, as she replaced the carton into my tote.

I couldn’t see Kessler’s eyes behind the dark lenses of his Ray Bans, but the sweat
from his palms that mushed against mine as he grabbed my hand was indication enough.
That was the epitome of a close one.

Once we were safely in the air, finally starting to relax, I realized that we hadn’t
talked about where the plane was going. In all the chaos, it had never crossed my
mind to make that decision. I heard every word that Kessler said to me at the restaurant,
and was disappointed his profession of love was ruined, because it took a lot of balls
to say what he did, and I decided to make it up to him.

The pilot turned around and said, “Looks like nice weather all the way to Nashville.
We should be arriving in approximately three and a half hours.”

Kessler turned and looked at me with pleading puppy eyes.

I stroked his face, pulled off his ball cap, running my fingers through his hair,
and said, “Yes, baby. Let’s go home.”

ANNIE

T
he first week in Nashville was a whirlwind, and I was overwhelmed by the amount of
introductions that came along with being Kessler Carlisle’s girlfriend. Having no
personal items of my own, Hope took me shopping downtown one afternoon and we had
a really great time together. Having a girlfriend close by seems essential at this
point in my life.

I loved the role that Mama D played in Kessler’s life, and understood why everyone
always ate over there; the food is unbelievable! Even though I was nervous to meet
her (I had a lot to live up to) from the first hello she welcomed me with open arms,
like I’d been living next door to her my whole life. Wade was busy getting ready for
his next tour, but still spent plenty of time on shenanigans, and therefore, plenty
of time in trouble with the women in his life.

Kessler has tried so hard to make me feel like his town is now my town, his home is
now ours, and the effort put forth was beyond anything I ever expected. Always hugging
and rubbing on me, and every time he looked at me, I saw the love in his eyes; it’s
enough to make any woman melt. A family was slowly being built around me again, and
I knew I’d made the right choice about the man and the location.

Christmas was only a week away, and the house felt naked without decorations dripping
from every corner.

“If you want, we can hire someone to decorate the house for you,” Kessler offered.

“That’s sweet, honey, but that’s not how I roll. The point of decorating is making
memories together, and if you’ll help out and be my co-pilot, then I promise not to
get too crazy; at least not this year.”

He pulled me in close and whispered, “Let me show you to my cockpit,” followed by
an outburst of laughter, feeling extremely proud of his terrible joke. I’m pretty
sure at that moment he was picturing me naked.

“I’ve gotta run to the store and get some new strings for my guitar, but I should
be back soon. I already drug the lights out and they’re sitting in the garage; I knew
you’d come for them sooner or later,” he said as he kissed me good-bye.

I’ve learned to appreciate the small gestures made by men, because in their eyes,
they are larger than life.

I started with the miniature Evergreen trees which line the side of our house closest
to the Rutledge home. They would be able to see the lights from their kitchen, and
Mama D would love that I was already putting Kessler to work.