Drift Away (Noah Braddock Mysteries) (10 page)

My chest heaved and I stepped off the bike. I walked it past him and rested it against the side of the house. I tried to catch my breath as I walked back to him.

“What are you doing here?” I asked again.

He ambled slowly to his feet, the green tank top and long cargo shorts hanging loosely on his skinny frame. He took a long drag on the cigarette, then pulled it from his lips.

“Just wanted to check out your new digs,” he said, exhaling a long plume of smoke.

“How’d you find me?”

He pinched the cigarette between his fingers and took another drag, then let the smoke curl out of his mouth. “Yeah, I heard you might not want people finding you.”

I let my breathing settle. “I meant how'd you find where I live?”

He grinned again, exposing a mouthful of dirty teeth. “I just did some askin’ around, you know? Sort of like Mission Beach around here. Somebody new moves in, locals know. You know?”

I nodded. I despised the fact that a guy like Zip could make me feel so anxious. It was all I could do to not look over my shoulder and wonder who might be coming for me.

“After I saw you the other night, I just thought
…
you know, we could hang out,” he said, sucking the life out of the cigarette, the butt glowing bright orange. “Being old pals from SoCal and all.”

“We weren’t pals, Zip.”

He nodded, chuckling. “Right on. That’s true. But you know. That was all just business.”

Carter and I had helped shake Liz’s brother, Alex, free from a scam Zip was running. It was all business and we were about as far apart from being friends as two people could be.

“But I heard you had to get out of SoCal quick,” he said, eyeing me.

And there it was. The first time it had been mentioned since I’d left San Diego in the middle of a driving storm. I killed Liz’s killer, buried him in the desert and the storm had washed his body up. There was nothing left for me in San Diego and I’d taken off. Part coward, part self-preservation. I’d done the best I could to hide, to stay out of sight, to wait for Carter to tell me it was okay to come back. If I wanted to go back.

And now I was being outed by a small-time drug dealer who I never thought I’d see again.

“I don’t know what you heard,” I said.

The cigarette twitched between his lips and he held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, man. None of my business. Just heard you had to get out of San Diego.”

Which meant he’d gone checking up on me after I’d seen him at the laundromat and probably stirred up people and things I didn’t need stirred up.

“Well, I’m here now,” I said. “Not sure what you heard. But, I’m here now.”

He chuckled and flicked the butt into the street. “Yes, you are. Crazy, huh?”

“So why’d you come by?”

He shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Ah, no reason. Just wanted to see what was up.”

The idea of snapping his neck and tossing him in the bay crossed my mind. No one would miss a piece of crap like Zip. Just some degenerate who ran into a little bad luck.

But I squashed the thought.

I was not my father.

“Well, I got some stuff to do,” I said.

He made a show of stepping to the side in order to let me walk up the drive. “Oh, right on, man. I’m sorry. I don’t wanna keep you. Just wanted to say hey, see if you wanna hang out some time.”

“Sure,” I said. “Let’s hang out some time.”

“Cool. Now that I know where you live, we can make it happen.”

I turned around and the same ugly smile spread across his face. My heart beat fast, but it wasn’t from the bike ride. A guy like Zip didn’t come by to hang out. He came by to find me, to see what he could dig up.

Or to pass on the information.

“Absolutely,” I said through my teeth. “Sounds good.”

He nodded, pleased with himself, backing up down the driveway into the street. “I’ll be in touch, brother.”

He turned and walked out of the cul-de-sac, the sun disappearing with him as he turned the corner and out of sight.

SEVENTEEN

I didn’t sleep.

I didn’t just toss and turn. I literally laid there the entire night and didn’t shut my eyes, trying to figure out what to do.

Zip had thrown me. I thought I had mentally prepared myself for any and all scenarios once I left San Diego, but it was clear that I’d been fooling myself. Zip was small time and I knew I could handle him, if needed. But the fact that his presence had so unnerved me told me a lot about my frame of mind.

I knew I couldn’t hide forever and I honestly wasn’t sure what I was hiding from. I didn’t want to go to jail and I didn’t think that I deserved to. Ridding the earth of Keene was anything but a crime. But I knew that there were at least two San Diego police detectives who thought differently.

I’d chosen to run. Not just from the fallout from my actions, but from the memories haunting me. Only problem was, they'd followed me. And now it looked like the rest of what I'd left behind was following me, too.

I was living my life afraid of everyone and everything, unsure of what each day was going to bring.

Right at that moment, it felt like it was going to bring me a heart attack and I didn’t like it.

At some point, I was going to have to face whatever consequences were coming my way for avenging Liz’s death. I guess I was just hoping that I could be the one who chose when and how I faced them.

I finally crawled out of bed with the sun, threw on some clothes and grabbed the bicycle.

The sun was still waking, low and soft on the horizon as I pedaled over the bridge and into Fort Walton proper. The streets were quiet and I pulled up in front of a small coffee shop wedged between an art gallery and a used clothing store. I leaned the bike against the building and went inside.

The aroma of fresh coffee hit me like a crashing wave and I inhaled it, letting it filter into my senses. I bought a small cup at the counter and the kid took my money with one hand while tapping out a text message with the other.

There were only two other customers in the shop. An older gentleman engrossed in the
New York Times
in a seat next to the front window and a woman at one of the small tables, typing furiously on her laptop. They both ignored me, which was fine by me.

A small, wooden bar ran the length of the wall opposite the counter, two computers sitting idly. I’d found the coffee shop the first week in Fort Walton, needing some access to a computer. I wasn’t interested in putting my name on anything that might make me have to pay a bill at the house, so this was a good alternative. I could use the Internet if I needed and I could check or send email with a relative amount of anonymity. Was it overkill?  Maybe. But I wasn’t willing to risk anything else.

I brought up AOL and typed in the user account I’d created and that only Carter knew about. We’d agreed that if we needed to communicate for any reason, this was how we’d do it. And it would only be if it was necessary. So far, it hadn’t been, but there was always a twinge of anticipation when I logged in each week.

The inbox was still empty and I let the breath escape my lungs.

I clicked the tab for a new email, entered in the address that Carter had created and typed “Zip” in the subject line. In the body of the email, I typed:

Zip is he
re. No clue why. Don’t know what he knows, but not sure how to handle.  Any ideas
?

I hit send and logged out of the account.

It was the first time I’d communicated with him since I’d been gone and I was surprised at how much it made me miss him. I couldn’t tell him anything about what was going on, hadn’t even signed my name. I was isolated in the truest sense of the word and I didn’t like it. At all. Liz was gone, but Carter was still here.

Just not in the same way he used to be.

I filled the coffee cup again before I left and pedaled back over the bridge, more leisurely this time, one hand on the handlebars, the other holding the coffee. The morning breeze was still cool and it would be the last few moments of the day that wouldn’t be filled with humidity and moisture. The sun was beginning its ascent into the sky, casting long shadows down the highway and the sand was still perfectly manicured when I got to the beach.

A layer of clouds hovered menacingly on the horizon as I unlocked the shed and pulled out the chairs and umbrellas. I only set a few out, unsure of what the weather might hold. Rains could roll in in an instant, drenching everything in sight, and the beach furniture weighed twice as much when it was wet.

Tourists trickled out to the beach as the morning wore on, eyeing the sky as they walked down the wooden ramps to the sand. By noon, I only had five umbrellas rented and the beach was as quiet as I’d seen it in weeks. The clouds darkened and billowed at the edge of the water, casting ominous shadows on the water.

My stomach rumbled, the result of the long night and no breakfast. I locked up the shed so I could find some lunch and headed up the ramp toward the parking lot and the street. There was a deli about a block up that I frequented and a gigantic sandwich sounded good.

I descended the ramp toward the lot and stopped.

Bella was standing next to her car, her back to the passenger door window. I couldn’t see their faces because their backs were to me, but I recognized David and
Colin
standing in front of her and it looked like they were preventing her from going anywhere.

The frustration from my last conversation with Bella immediately flared and my initial instinct was to turn around, walk back to the beach and find another way to the street to get my sandwich. She’d made the choice to keep from me whatever she was into and I didn’t need any more complications. She didn’t want my help and I had enough to worry about. I was better off by myself.

But then I saw Jackson’s head bob up and peer out of the window from the backseat. His fingers grabbed at the door and his nose pressed lightly against the glass, his eyes filled with fear.

I hopped down the stairs and walked across the lot toward them.

Colin
turned around first, his eyes masked by the shades from the other day. He tapped David with the splint that encased the finger I’d broken. David followed his gaze and an amused smile emerged on his face.