Reclaim My Life (33 page)

“I took a leave of absence to care for him, and that’s when Fred convinced me to make a run for county sheriff. You met Fred, my chief deputy.”

“Yes,” she said. “The one you put in charge.”

“He’s a good person and a great law officer. Anyway, I ran, Adam opposed me, and I won, surprising myself as much as anybody. Phyllis ran an editorial about the race with the headline ‘Drake Dynasty Grabs More Power.’“

“Since it’s general knowledge around here that her son was your opponent, most readers probably read that as sour grapes.”

He chuckled. “Most readers don’t bother reading the
Democrat
. They just skim the ads.”

She stood and stretched. “I really need a shower.”

He took the empty Coke can from her. “You better take one now, because no telling when you’ll get another one.”

“You mean if we lose power because we won’t have hot water?”

“If we lose power, we won’t have
any
water. We’re on a well, and it takes electricity to run the pump. We have a generator, but it won’t work the pump.”

“In that case, I’m going to take a long, luxurious shower and shampoo my hair.” She hesitated at the hall door. “I would invite you to join me, but…”

Their gazes locked, and his eyes filled with sadness. “Yeah. Wish I could, darlin’. When you’re through, I’ll need you to pull guard duty while I take my own shower. We wouldn’t want to be caught with our pants down, so to speak.”

“No.” An involuntary shudder wracked her body. “I don’t want to be caught under any circumstances.”

At five in the morning, tropical storm winds besieged Drake Oaks for the second time that evening. The eye passed farther north and offered little respite for Foster County residents. Wil peeked out the upstairs windows to watch huge limbs on the oak trees bending and bowing. In the distance, one snapped and hit the ground with a boom, rousing Elizabeth from sleep. Earlier, she’d stretched out fully clothed across the dusty bedspread on one of the twin beds in the room where he sat—what at one time had been his and Sam’s room. She sat up and inhaled sharply, staring at the rifle lying across his lap.

“Relax. It was a tree limb breaking.” He sat at the desk he’d shared with Sam, the wooden chair hard and unforgiving. Just what he needed to stay awake.

She scooted to the edge of the bed. “Is this the hurricane?”

His small weather radio crackled to life beside him, the volume low. “According to the weather radio, the hurricane was downgraded after striking land in Georgia late last night. Good news for the inland residents. If we’re lucky, Foster County will have to contend with little more than some downed power lines and trees. Most flooding should be temporary because of the low level of the streams and rivers.”

Her tousled hair reminded him of the previous night, when he’d awakened her at her house. She looked just as appealing and sexy now as she had wearing that college nightshirt.

“So the drought turned out to be a blessing. Sometimes Mother Nature knows best.”

“You sound like Dad. Some folks called him a tree hugger when he opposed commercial growth in Foster County. But he’s just a guy who believes in balance.”

“Then your dad and I are on the same page.” She scrubbed her face with her hands and yawned. “Since I’m awake, I’m going to make myself a cup of tea.”

“Yeah, make it before we lose electricity.”

She shuffled to the door in socked feet. He’d rather see her red-painted toes and bare feet, but the socks made her no less appealing.

“Can I bring you something?” she asked.

“A Coke. I need caffeine.”

She made a circle with her thumb and index finger, then disappeared into the hall. After numerous attempts to convince him to get some sleep, she seemed to have gotten the message. Too wired and too upset, he couldn’t sleep if he tried. If he closed his eyes, he’d replay his night of love with Elizabeth. Instead of giving him a memory to comfort him, it would make him want her all the more.

He returned his attention to the entrance and gate, illuminated by a single mercury vapor lamp that his grandfather had strung up years ago. The gates jostled with the wind. No, wait. What the hell? A shadowy figure seemed to be unwrapping the chain. Wil rubbed his tired eyes and looked again.

Grabbing his rifle, he raced down the stairs. “Stay in the kitchen.” Without pausing to explain to Elizabeth, he unbolted the door and ran outside.

Sloshing through the deep puddles, Wil wished he’d taken time to find his rubber fishing boots and slicker. No, a slicker would be hot as blazes even in the rain. The mud sucked at his feet, but he forced them to carry him to the end of the drive toward the man at the gate.

The intruder made no attempt to hide his movements. When Wil reached the gate, he recognized the man the instant he heard Adam’s voice hollering in the wind.

“Wil, thank God you’re here. I need your boat.”

“What’s this about?” Wil lowered the rifle but didn’t offer to help unchain the gate. He resisted a dig about Adam being outside his jurisdiction, but questions flooded his mind. For starters, why would any Gillespie step foot on Drake property, especially in the middle of a tropical storm? Had Dad been right to suspect him? Or worse, could Frank Sullivan have corrupted the chief of police with an offer he couldn’t refuse?

“I have to rescue Amy and the kids. The bridge washed out. The only way I can get to them is by boat, and yours is closest.” Adam stepped through the gate then rewrapped the chain, hardly the actions of a desperado looking to make a fast escape. His tone suggested he’d rather have awakened the Coast Guard than to have to ask a Drake for help.

Or maybe Wil imagined it. He’d vowed he would do what he could to bury the hatchet with Adam and Amy. “Where’s Ben?”

“He went for help and never came back. No one’s seen him, and …” Adam’s voice faltered. His distress seemed genuine. “We fear the worst. He may have been on the bridge when it collapsed.”

“That damned bridge has needed replacing for years.” Wil pointed toward the river with his rifle. “This way.”

“I tried to get them to stay in town with me.” Adam stared at the main house as they sloshed past the front porch. “You out here alone?”

“We thought it best to move Dad in town with Sam.” He didn’t volunteer more. As much as he wanted to trust Adam, he couldn’t afford the risk. “I stuck the boat under my cabin porch. I hope it’s still there.”

He hurried with Adam toward the cabin, the driveway muck pulling at his feet like loose putty. The security light on the corner of his porch guided them like a blurred beacon. “What happened at Amy’s?”

“She called from her cell, and I missed some of what she said.”

“Yeah, the signal’s piss-poor out here on a good day.”

“I think that huge live oak in back of their mobile home must have crashed through the roof. Whatever happened, they’ve had to evacuate. Amy’s really upset, but I think she’s more worried about Ben than her house.”

They found the john boat right where Wil had stored it out of harm’s way. Setting down the rifle, Wil checked the electric trolling motor and found it in working order. Together they carried the boat to the Suwannee, fighting the torrential rains and gusts of wind.

Wil picked up his rifle. “I would offer to go with you and help, but the boat won’t hold more than three adults. You’ll be okay with Amy and the kids, though.”

“I’ll bring it back when I can.” Adam pushed the boat into the water. After eleven solid hours of heavy rain, the river had swollen with alarming speed. He reached to start the motor and hesitated. In the dim light from the security light, his face softened. “Thanks, Wil.”

“Be careful.”

Adam disappeared into the inky shadows. Wil stared across the Suwannee to Amy’s place. No lights. Either that side of the river had lost electricity or the large tree had taken out their power. His instincts told him Adam told the truth, but a sense of urgency pushed him back to the main house. He couldn’t dismiss the possibility that Adam’s appearance was a clever distraction, as far-fetched as that seemed.

Back at the house, Elizabeth waited for him in the kitchen, her face ashen. “Was someone here?”

“I didn’t mean to scare you when I ran out.” Standing by the back door in the laundry room, Wil peeled off his wet clothes. So relieved to find her waiting for him unharmed, he wanted nothing more than to grab her and hold her. If only he could afford the distraction.

She handed him a towel from the dryer. “I think your dad is out of Cokes. Want me to make coffee?”

“No. I might grab a cup of hot tea in a minute.” While he toweled himself dry, he told her about Adam needing to borrow the boat to rescue Amy and her two children.

“How old are her children?”

“I’d guess nine and seven. Both boys. She and Ben were married about ten years before starting a family. They’ve not had an easy time of it financially.”

She returned to the table to finish her cup of tea. “Why is that?”

Rifling through his duffel, he pulled out dry jeans and a T-shirt. “From what I hear, Amy wants to live at the old home place, so she bought it from her mother. That’s a lot of land to finance. They traded for a larger mobile home about two years ago. I doubt it’s paid for, but I hope it’s insured.”

“I’ll bet she’s frantic with worry about her husband, poor thing.”

He tugged the T-shirt over his head. “Yeah, but Adam will see after her.”

“Has Adam ever been married?”

“Not that I know of.” He pulled up his jeans, then zipped them. “Having Phyllis Gillespie for a mother-in-law is too frightening a prospect.”

“Hmm.” Elizabeth dunked a tea bag in her second cup of hot water, staring into space as if lost in thought.

Or was she trying to avoid watching him dress? He’d given it no thought when he’d stripped to his underwear in her presence, not that she hadn’t seen him undressed. “What?” he asked.

“Just thinking about Phyllis. I’m guessing she’s kept the family feud alive all these years. I have a feeling you and Adam could be friends if not for her. What about Amy? Does she still hate your family?”

“I have no idea. The few times I’ve run into her, she’s been cordial, but she was with Ben and the kids. She seemed happy—although her mother wasn’t around any of those times, so you might have a point.” Chilled from his rain-drenched adventure, he grabbed a clean cup and lifted the teakettle from the burner to make his own hot tea. “Adam is hard to read. I feel as if we’re players on a stage, but I haven’t been given the full script.”

“I know the feeling. I’ve been trying to figure out my next persona when I have to reinvent myself. Again. Fat and dowdy worked for a while, but they’re hip to that now. Maybe I’ll go Goth and wear garish makeup. Dye my hair black.”

Wil didn’t want to think about her relocation. He changed the subject. “We’re lucky we still have power. It’s dark across the river.”

“You want cream in your tea?” She nodded toward his cup.

“No, thanks.” He took a sip of the blistering hot brew. “I need to check in, see if we have anybody who can help search for Ben.”

“I’m sure your chief deputy is handling it, but go ahead and call. I know you’re anxious.”

“Yeah. You’re probably thinking I don’t know how to delegate.”

She cocked her head and studied him. “And here I was about to pay you a compliment about being dedicated and committed to your job.”

“How do you do that?” She lifted her brows in a question, so he explained. “You put a positive spin on everything I do. To hear you tell it, I’m a real special person.”

“You are.” She gazed at him with admiration and genuine affection.

His stomach did that flutter thing as if he’d taken a dip in the road at high speed and gone airborne. God help him, he couldn’t remember anyone believing so strongly in him. He hoped her faith wasn’t misplaced. Right now her life was in his hands. If anything happened to her—

“Stop worrying, and call.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He used the landline to spare his cell phone battery, although the cell towers may not be working in the area after the storm anyway. Besides, even on a good day, the signal strength was unpredictable. Dispatch put him through to Fred.

“I planned to call you at daybreak, Wil. What are you doing up?”

“Up? Hell, Fred, I haven’t been to bed yet. So tell me about Ralph Sapp.”

“He’s in critical condition and will probably need surgery, but the doctors say he’ll make it. We’re still searching for the car, but we do know the color. We found black paint on Ralph’s beach cruiser.”

“So we’re looking for a black vehicle with frontal damage. Do you know if he’s talked to his mama yet about who struck him?”

“Not as far as I know. To tell you the truth, we’ve been too busy responding to emergency calls. Lots of roads are flooded, some power outages—”

“Is there power in town?”

“Downtown is fine. But everyone east of the Suwannee is without electricity. FPL has had a crew working on it half the night.”

“I still show a signal on my cell, so call if you get an update on Ralph.”

“Before you hang up, we have something going on that I think you should know about.”