Out of the Storm (33 page)

Lipton stood. “Sorry for the lecture. Go back. Run your marina with your adopted family.”

Eric reached for his friend’s hand. Lip turned and grasped Eric’s in a firm handshake. “It’s okay, Rick. Trust me. If I need you, I know where to find you.”

Like Ralph the night before, Lip showed a coy smile and let go of his friend’s hand.

When the door opened Ashley stood there, waiting. Eric wondered how much she’d heard. Nothing, he hoped. It was terrifying stuff, and she’d already had far more than her share of reality for a lifetime.

“Oh, sorry,” she offered. “I didn’t know you were in here, Commander. I can come back later.”

Lip stood for a moment and shook her hand. He gave his old friend one final nod and salute. “I think we’re done here. Take good care of this guy. I’m leaving you in good hands,” he said looking back, giving Eric a wink. “He deserves it.”

“I agree,” Ashley said in a whisper as she smiled pleasantly, releasing Lip’s hand.

“Take good care of him, Ms. Fitzhugh,” Lip repeated and bent to give her a peck on the cheek. And as quickly as Ralph the day before, his old comrade was gone.

Carson had appeared at Eric’s bedside for a couple of days, but once the crisis passed they never saw him again.
Spooks
. That was what deep-cover operatives were called. For good reason.

Other than the vague references from Lip, no one ever explained the down and dirty details of Firestorm. But then, this wasn’t Agatha Christie, there was no Hercule Poirot who lined the suspects up and revealed the fiendish plot and villain to the audience. This was reality. It was dark, it was dirty, and often left more than a few question marks.

****

Eric was close to discharge. He’d been through rehab and could do everything he had before the gunshot. Not as fast or as well, but that would come in time. At least he hoped it would. He refused to talk to newspaper reporters though they continued to hound him for weeks. Carson and company had orchestrated a plausible cover story about sadistic kidnappers, once again positioning Eric as a hero—the small-town savior and rescuer of three women. The explosions had been described as accidents. The public seemed satisfied. Local police and other savvy observers knew better but kept their mouths shut. That was the way of it.

On a day trip before his discharge, Ashley had driven Eric to the marina where a group representing his customers had appeared to congratulate him on his latest heroic adventure and assure him that they were with him to stay, no matter what the inconvenience.

Ashley grinned when Bobby came over to show the boss the new docks. After spending time showing Eric the improvements the havoc had wrought, he left. When Eric asked Ashley why she was beaming from ear to ear she pointed to Bobby’s small cruiser. Stacy lay sunning herself on the foredeck.

“No more Gwen,” she explained. “Those two have become quite an item.”

“Like you and me?” he asked as he found Ashley’s hand.

She turned and put her arms around him tightly.

“Oh,” he groaned, teasing her.

“No, nothing like you and me,” Ashley whispered. She backed away so she could find his eyes. “There never will be anyone like you and me, darlin’.”

“My goodness.
Darling
. We are getting intimate aren’t we?”

“Damn right!” She squeezed him. “Your buddy Carson called and offered me a job with DOD by the way. Said you recommended it.”

Eric watched her. “And?” he asked, hoping she was teasing.

“Lots of money, nice condo in Georgetown. Private school for Kylie.” She sounded smug. “This whole thing may have a silver lining.”

“So…” The words stuck in Eric’s throat. “Does that mean…”

She put her fingers to his lips. “Shhh. Have no fear.” She beamed, pleased with herself for having caught him. “How could I ever leave this place? Great scenery, best seafood in the world, even good company—sometimes.”

It was his turn. “I think I can do something about that.” He winked at her.

She turned and backed away. “Are you saying that…?”

Eric stepped toward her and kneeled clumsily. “Ashley Fitzhugh. Will you do the honor of marrying me?”

Ashley stood, hand clasped tightly over her mouth as tears of joy rolled down her cheeks.

Eric had alerted the marina staff. Bobby raised a cheer as Kylie and Lu appeared from the office door, smiling broadly.

“Well,” Eric held out his hands. “I’m waiting.”

Ashley composed herself and put her lips together. “I just may do that, but I’ll have to think about this for a while.” She giggled, brushed her tears away as she opened her arms, and ran into Eric’s.

A word about the author...

Successful author, college faculty member, president of one of the Northeast’s most respected writing organizations, and sought-after public speaker, Kevin Symmons has a new romantic thriller set near his Cape Cod home.
Out of the Storm
is a page-turner snatched from today’s headlines.

Rite of Passage
, his paranormal romance, was a resounding success when released by the award-winning Wild Rose Press in 2012. His other efforts include
Voices
, a sweeping women’s fiction work that brings to light the tragic problem of domestic violence in contemporary America, and collaboration with award-winning screenwriter, playwright, and Professor Barry Brodsky, who has adapted one of Kevin’s story ideas to the screen.

He is an active member of the National Writers Union, Mystery Writers of America, and both the New England Chapter and National RWA. Kevin is currently at work on his next novel,
Chrysalis
, a new adult thriller also set near his Cape Cod home.

Thank you for purchasing
this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.