Gasping For Air 2 (Last Chance Romance Series) Page 8

  “Maybe one day you’ll make dinner for me?”

  Lillian didn’t respond and stared at the water.

  Thinking he had pushed too hard, Jim changed the subject. “Look over there,” he pointed. “It’s an osprey’s nest.”

  “There are babies in the nest.”

  “Here comes Mama. Must be chow time.”

  An adult osprey flew into the nest with a fish in its claws.

  Lillian and Jim finished their lunch while watching the mother chew the fish and then regurgitate it to her chicks. After lunch Lillian waded into deeper water while Jim cleaned up and put the chairs and table back on board the boat.

  When they were ready to leave, Jim gestured downstairs to Lillian. “You can wash that salt water off in the head.”

  “Head?”

  “The bathroom.”

  “Oh yes, I remember.”

  Lillian hurried to the bathroom and rinsed off the sticky salt water and changed into a new caftan. When she emerged from the cabin, Jim was busy navigating the boat. “We’re headed back to Key Largo, but I know of a good spot to go snorkeling if you’re keen. Are you a good swimmer?”

  “Haven’t had much practice, but I don’t think I’ll sink.”

  “I’ll throw out some floatables so when you get tired you can hang on to them. Got to be careful though. Even in a calm sea, it’s easy to drift away from the boat.”

  “I’ll just paddle around the boat.”

  Jim nodded and resumed navigating, leaving Lillian to her thoughts.

  Suddenly, Lillian jerked forward and pointed. “Look over there, Jim. That boat seems to be having trouble.”

  Jim slowed the boat and looked through the binoculars. He saw a small fishing boat with a man frantically waving to them. The motor was smoking. “Looks like he’s got a motor problem. We’ll swing over and tow him back to a marina.”

  “Okay. I’m thirsty. I’m going to get a drink. You want something?”

  “No thanks. Bring something up for that fellow, though. He might be dehydrated.”

  “Sure.”

  Lillian went downstairs, but before she got a drink, she did her business, then checked out the beds by lying on them, looked through the storage bins, tried the stove and microwave before turning on the TV. She felt the boat slow down and then come to a stop. She looked through a window and saw the torso and legs of a young man standing in a fishing boat that was bobbing on the water. Grabbing bottles of water, she climbed up the small staircase, “Jim, this boat is so well designed. I just tried the . . .”

  Jim was standing with his hands behind his head.

  What was he doing?

  Lillian turned and saw a young man standing in the fishing boat, pointing a gun at Jim.

  Lillian dropped the water bottles out of shock and then fell against the side of the cabin when a wave hit the boat, causing it to rock. She began to crawl on the floor toward her purse. Her cell phone was in it.

  “Oh, Miss Lillian, do come out. I know you’re there,” sang a voice familiar to Lillian although she had heard it only once, months ago. “I’d hate to harm our fair policeman. By the way, nice boat you got here. Very nice.”

  Lillian pulled herself up and stepped out from the cabin.

  “Do you remember me?” asked the young man.

  “Yes, you’re Jeremy Salvador.”

  “That’s right. You got me fired from Aussie Jack’s.”

  “You got yourself fired for stealing.”

  The young man’s face darkened. “Do you think it’s polite to argue with a man holding a gun on your boyfriend? I could shoot him right now.”

  Lillian looked around. “You won’t. Too many boats around.” She wondered how she was finding the courage to speak, but she was angry and frightened. She prayed that a boat would come in their direction, but all the boats stayed near the shoreline. Jeremy was shielded from their sight due to the length of Jim’s boat.

  Jeremy waved Jim and Lillian back. “I’m going to board now. Move aft. Sit on your hands.”

  Lillian looked at Jim for guidance.

  “Do as he says, Lil.”

  “Lil? How old-fashioned,” grinned Jeremy. “Now I’m coming aboard. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “We won’t,” assured Jim.

  Lillian could see Jim’s temple throbbing.

  Jeremy screamed at them. “No, not the bench! Sit on the deck! Sit on your hands.”

  The possibility of jumping up and surprising Jeremy now faded away.

  Jim and Lillian cautiously slid to the deck.

  Watching them carefully, Jeremy boarded Jim’s boat. Taking a fire extinguisher off its hook, Jeremy put out the smoke bellowing from his boat’s motor. “Now we won’t draw undue attention.”

  Jeremy giggled as he threw a rope at Lillian. “Tie your boyfriend up. Make it tight.”

  Lillian took the rope and tied up Jim while she talked. “Why are you bothering me? Why me?”

  Jeremy’s face went blank until his eyes widened. “The boyfriend didn’t tell you? You’re not my first. I’ve hassled dozens of women. I like watching people. It’s my hobby, but it got boring. Stale, you know.”

  Lillian thumbed at Jim. “He’s a cop. If you hurt him, the entire law enforcement of Florida will come down on your head.”

  “Whose says that I will have had anything to do with this? Look around. Nobody notices this. We look like we are just lounging around.”

  At that time a speedboat buzzed by with the passengers waving and shouting.

  “See,” smiled Jeremy.

  “What are you going to do with us?” asked Jim.

  “We’re going to head out to sea and then I don’t know. I don’t really have a plan except that I waited all afternoon in the sun for you to come back this way. I knew what your boat looked like, Officer Masterson. I’ve been keeping my hand in, so to speak, keeping tabs on you too, but I didn’t count on those surveillance cameras at that dump of an apartment building.”

  Lillian blurted out, “So you admit that it was you.”

  Jeremy flashed his startling white teeth in a crooked grin. “Who else could it have been? Of course, it was me. But up till that time, I could always make my accusers back down. No arrests. Just rumors. Until then, no one had any proof on me. I can’t go to jail. I just can’t. I’m too pretty,” Jeremy laughed.

  “We can’t go out to sea,” argued Jim, trying to defuse the situation. He longed for his gun, which he had stowed away in his car. “Look at the sky. A storm is coming in.”

  Jeremy twisted his head toward the east. “Yeah, looks nasty. I gotta get rid of you two fast and then head out to Mexico.”

  Jim snorted. “This boat won’t make it to Mexico even if the gas tank was full. She won’t survive in a heavy storm.”

  “Don’t worry about me, chum.” Jeremy giggled. “Chum, I like that. Pretty soon you’ll both be chum.”

  Lillian looked longingly at the shoreline, but the shore was lined with mangroves. Even if she jumped into the water and made it to the shore, how could she get through the mangroves to the highway and summon help? She could hide, but that wouldn’t help Jim. She and Jim were trapped unless someone saw them and understood what was happening.

  Jeremy loomed over Lillian. “That’s not tight. That’s not tight at all. You didn’t obey me!” He took the gun and pistol-whipped her.

  “Oh, my God!” was all Lillian could say as she was knocked to her side. She covered her head with her arms.

  “STOP IT!” screamed Jim. He struggled against the ropes while swinging his legs, which made contact with Jeremy’s feet and toppled him.

  Jeremy dropped the gun.

  Lillian and Jeremy scrambled for the gun, which slid near the steps to the cockpit. The boat began to rock more violently as the water became choppier due to the incoming storm.

  Jim untangled his legs from the ropes and kicked Jeremy in the stomach.

  Lillian picked up one of the bottles of water she had dropped
and began to beat Jeremy over the head, but that only seemed to enrage Jeremy more. He wrenched the bottle from Lillian and began to pummel her with it. In his strong hands, the bottle was a lethal weapon.

  Screaming, Lillian reached for the gun, but couldn’t see it for the blood streaming into her eyes. She kicked wildly until she heard a yelp.

  The beating stopped.

  Wiping blood off her face with her shirt, Lillian looked around and spotted the gun. She crawled toward it and grabbing it, threw the gun over the side of the boat.

  Suddenly, someone grabbed Lillian’s ankles and flipped her over. “You kicked my balls!” shrieked Jeremy. “You’re gonna pay for that!”

  Struggling to breathe while protecting herself from Jeremy’s furious blows to her stomach and legs, Lillian felt she was losing the battle.

  Getting free of his ropes, Jim rushed over and grabbed Jeremy’s hair, whereupon Jeremy twisted and punched Jim in the stomach. He stumbled backwards as Jeremy marched upon him and began to rain blows on Jim with the water bottle.

  Lillian realized that she had made the wrong choice by throwing the gun into the water. In a split-second decision, she had believed that they could subdue Jeremy without shooting him. Now she saw that he was too powerful and strong for them.

  Jim and Jeremy fighting was the last thing Lillian saw before she collapsed on the deck, gasping for air.

  The last thought she had before the world went black was that she and Jim were going to die . . . and it was her fault.

  35

  Lillian awoke. Everything was a blurry white. Walls were white. The ceiling was white. She was covered in white. Am I dead? she thought.

  A face peered over her.

  Lillian squinted and a face came into focus–sort of. “Eva?”

  “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

  “Where am I?” croaked Lillian. Her throat felt sore and dry.

  “You’re in the emergency room at Fishermen’s Hospital. They’re keeping you overnight for observation, but you’re okay. I’ve got to tell you,” cautioned Eva, “your face is black and blue, but your eyes are fine. Just swollen. Well . . . you’re just black and blue all over.”

  “That explains why I’m having such trouble seeing.” Lillian struggled to sit up.

  Eva rushed to help her.

  Lillian looked around. She could see nurses run back and forth. “What happened? Is Jim okay?”

  “Jim had only minor injuries. They released him over an hour ago, but he is still here waiting for you to wake up.”

  “What about Jeremy?”

  “That jerk,” spat out Eva. “He’s in custody now. He had to have twenty-three stitches. Apparently he fell on the deck and busted his face.”

  Lillian coughed. “Is that the story?”

  Eva grinned. “That’s the story that was given. Anyway, he’s okay and on his way to jail. I doubt he will get out on bail. I think he’s out of your life for good.”

  Lillian sighed with relief.

  “Hey there. I thought I heard you talking.” Jim looked over Eva’s shoulder. “Nice to see you conscious.”

  Eva looked at Jim and then at Lillian. “Lillian, I’ll be back tomorrow with some clothes. I’m sure they’ll let you go. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Lillian barely noticed that Eva had said goodbye. She couldn’t take her eyes off Jim.

  “I heard that Jeremy had to have lots of stitches.”

  Jim shook his head. “He fell on the deck. In fact, he fell several times. I’ve never seen a clumsier kid.”

  Lillian gave a ghost of a smile. “So that’s the way it is going to be.”

  “Yep.” Jim sat on the side of her bed. “I want to thank you for taking the chances you did.”

  “It was either that or end up swimming with the fishes. I’ve got to tell you, I’ve never been so scared.”

  “Me too. I’m glad that you threw the gun overboard.” Jim stirred uncomfortably. “I’ve got to confess that if I had gotten hold of his gun, I would have killed that little bastard.”

  “That’s why I threw it over. Why should you ruin your life over that creep? I didn’t even think about it. I just got my hands on it and threw it over. Instinct, I guess.”

  “Whatever reason, I thank you.” Jim patted Lillian’s arm. “I guess that’s it for us, huh?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know when I’m beaten. You won’t want to go on my boat again.”

  “Who says I won’t? I had the best time until Jeremy showed up. That’s not going to happen again, is it?”

  “Not on my watch!”

  “Next time, I want to go snorkeling.”

  “You’d go out with me again?”

  “If you ask.”

  “Hell yes.”

  “Okay. It’s a date then.” Lillian winced. “But maybe next month when I’m not so stiff.”

  “It’s a plan.” Jim gave Lillian a broad smile and bent over, giving her a light kiss on the lips.

  Lillian snorted. “My lips are so swollen, I can’t feel. Did you just kiss me?”

  “Yep, and there’s more of that when you’re up and about, I assure you.”

  “I hope you are a good kisser as I like to be kissed.”

  “If I don’t do it to your satisfaction, you will have to teach me.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  “I better go and let you get some rest.” Jim started to leave, then remembered something. “I hope you don’t get mad, but I called your daughter. She’s flying in on the first plane.”

  Lillian’s heart began to race. “What did she say?”

  “She started crying on the phone. Said that she loved you and would be here tomorrow.”

  “She said she loved me?”

  “Yep. I think if you two talk while she’s here, things might get straightened out. It seems like she was scared to lose you.”

  “That would be wonderful.”

  A nurse bustled into the cubicle, motioning for Jim to leave.

  As he was being pushed out, he rushed, “And she’s staying at the Last Chance Motel.”

  “You mean the Pink Flamingo,” corrected the nurse as she snapped the curtains shut. “What are you smiling about?” asked the nurse, putting a blanket over Lillian.

  “Nothing,” grinned Lillian, “but I thank my lucky stars that I stumbled upon the Last Chance Motel.”

  “Pink Flamingo Motel,” corrected the nurse more adamantly this time.

  But Lillian didn’t hear her as she had finally succumbed to exhaustion and happily dozed off to sleep.

  BONUS CHAPTER

  Death By A HoneyBee I

  A Josiah Reynolds Mystery

  1

  I knew something was wrong as I turned the corner around the copse of black walnut trees where mourning doves roosted. The stillness of the gray-breasted birds perched in a dull slash on a tree limb contrasted with the clamorous buzzing of thousands of bees. As though readying for battle, their thundering racket was an alarm that meant danger to anyone or anything that chanced upon them in their harried state.

  As a mother knows the meaning of her baby’s whimpering, so a beekeeper understands the droning of her bees. I thought an animal might have disturbed them . . . a raccoon, or maybe a deer, had kicked over a hive. That alone would cause them to be anxious and make it difficult for me to work with them. I hurried past the vigilant doves, their heads swiveling in my direction. Coming around a hedge of honeysuckle, I encountered a six-foot-high wall of enraged bees hovering between their white hives and me, a glittering wave of golden insects ready to inflict painful stings on anything deemed hostile.

  Thank goodness I had worn my thick white cotton bee suit as honeybees hurled themselves at my veil in a panic. To be accosted this aggressively is unnerving, even for the most experienced beekeeper. I felt my stomach muscles tighten. Talk about a gut feeling.

  “Babies, babies,” I cooed. “Settle down. Settle down.” Then I saw the s
ource of their fear and revulsion. The metal cover from the most populous beehive had been heedlessly thrown on the ground, and wooden rectangle frames full of baby brood lay abandoned next to it. Thousands of young nurse bees frantically tried to protect this nursery full of eggs and wax-capped unborn bees by covering the frames with their bodies. This violation alone would make honeybees angry, but I saw that someone was bent over and plunged face down into the open hive, which made them even wilder. The person’s arms hung down outside the hive. I noticed the fists were clenched.

  “What are you doing?” I yelled, startled at the sight of a strange person with his head and shoulders inside one of my hives. “Who are you? Get away from there!” I stepped back, waiting for a response.

  My chest tightened. Hoping to stave off an asthma attack, I reached in my pocket for my albuterol spray, but realized my veil would stop me from getting the medicine to my mouth. I breathed more slowly. I inhaled the musky odor of the bees along with the heavy, cloying scent of honeysuckle hedges behind their hives. Somewhere in the distance I heard the growl of a tractor cutting sweet hay. I flinched at the sudden piercing call of a redwing blackbird.

  I scanned the field for further danger. Other than a person sticking his naked head into one of my hives with eighty thousand bees dive-bombing him and me, nothing appeared different. The rest of the hives waited in line like sailors standing at attention in their white uniforms. Bullets of reflected light darted back and forth from openings in the bottom hive boxes so quickly the human eye could barely register the tiny insects. Freshly mowed grass manicured the ground around the hives. Their water tank, full of hyacinths and duckweed, stood unmolested.

  The intruder did not stir. Grasping a fallen branch from the ground along with my belching hive smoker thrust before me, I moved closer. “Mister.” I cried, “MISTER!” I assumed it was a he . . . a heavy-set man with pale skin wearing tan corduroy pants and laced-up boots. I called again. Still, he did not budge.

  My initial shock overcome, I realized he didn’t seem to be breathing. Not a good sign. The bees covered him, pulling and biting at his neck, stinging his scalp and his back, furiously trying to evict him from their home. I inched closer. He looked stiff. I poked him with my branch. He didn’t shift. I jabbed him again with the tree branch. Nothing.