Читать книгу Christmas in Key West - Cynthia Thomason - Страница 9

ON FRIDAY MORNING, Abby raked dried leaves and twigs into a large pile. Somewhere under this mess that used to be her front yard, grass had to exist. And if it didn’t, she’d plant seeds, fertilize and hope for the best.

After scooping part of the pile onto her rake, she dumped the refuse into a garbage can. Thank goodness the trash collector she’d phoned earlier had removed the burned debris from Southard Street. Abby considered the money well spent, since Reese wouldn’t have anything to complain about for a while. She wondered why her father hadn’t called the trash man himself. Did Poppy not have thirty dollars?

She’d just resumed her raking when the window to the second-story master bedroom opened and her father stepped onto the balcony, a cup of coffee in hand. She’d checked on him several times during the night, and he’d slept well, almost as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

“Good morning, Poppy,” Abby called up to him. “How are you feeling?”

He rested his elbows on the railing and gave her a robust smile. “Fine, but what are you doing down there? It’s barely eight o’clock, way too early for you to be making all this racket.”

She glanced at what she’d accomplished in the past hour. “This yard won’t rake itself.”

“But I don’t get up this early. I have to work today.”

She leaned on the rake handle and reined in her impatience. Unless his routine had changed, and she doubted it had, hours would pass before he pulled his vendor’s cart from the side of the old theater building where he stored it, and set up his souvenir business in Mallory Square. “We’ll decide about you going to the square later. It’ll depend on how you’re feeling then. Besides, you don’t work until sundown, and the festivities are over by nine o’clock.”

“That doesn’t mean I want my daughter disturbing my rest before I’m ready to get up.”

“Funny, but I was thinking that if you’re feeling better, you could help out.” She pointed to the veranda, where she’d stacked assorted lawn tools. “I brought two rakes from the carriage house.”

“I’d help you, but I’ve got this bad eye. Keeps me a bit off-kilter, if you know what I mean. I hope someone comes along to give you a hand, though, baby girl.” He pointed a shaky finger. “Only, not that someone.”

A blue-striped Key West patrol car rounded the corner of Duval and Southard Streets. Abby couldn’t see the identity of the driver, but her heart leaped to her throat just the same. When the car stopped directly behind her Mazda, Huey let loose a few choice words and disappeared into the house, leaving Abby to face Reese, who was stepping out of the cruiser.

Dressed in a standard police uniform, he walked toward her. “I hear Huey came home last night. How’s he doing?”

“He’s okay.”

Reese gave her a lopsided smile. “Then you’re not going to sue me or the department?”

Once she’d had a chance to consider Reese’s explanation, Abby had reached the conclusion that his story was probably closer to the truth than her father’s. Huey’s version had included such colorful phrases as “rough-necked bully” and “power-hungry tyrant,” while he referred to himself as “innocent victim.” But not knowing Reese’s reason for showing up this morning, she simply said, “I’m keeping my options open.”

Reese smiled again and glanced around the yard. “I see the trash has been removed.”

She gave him a smug look. “Of course. We’re law abiding residents of Key West, Reese. Ones who should not have to be fearful of being arrested.”

He nodded. “Nope. Not anymore. Not about this, at least.”

“Gee, it’s nice that the police department is sending out one of its finest to follow up with surveillance of some of the most dangerous citizens.”

“That’s not why I’m here—exactly,” he said.

“Oh?”

He held out his hand. “You wouldn’t shake with me last night. I thought I’d try again.” When she didn’t move, he added, “It’s been years, Abby.”

She relented, clasped his hand and stared at the long fingers wrapped around hers. Bits of twigs and soil stuck to their joined palms. She pulled her hand back and wiped it against her jeans. He did the same. “Cleaning the yard, I see.”

She swiped her rake across the dirt. “You cops don’t miss a clue, do you?”

Reese folded his arms over his chest. “So how have you been?”

How have I been? Abby marveled at how absurdly casual his question was in light of what her life had been like since she’d last seen him. But of course, Reese never thought of that night. He’d had thirteen years to forget. She’d had thirteen years to remember. And regret.

She answered blandly, though her heartbeat pounded in her ears, nearly deafening her. “Fine.” Ironically, in spite of the churning in her stomach now, that was mostly true—or should be. She had a fulfilling job, many friends and nice neighbors. And past relationships that didn’t linger overlong in her mind when they ended. She had offers for dates that she sometimes accepted. In fact, her life was so busy she didn’t allow herself to think about what was missing in it or what had gone wrong.

He looked toward the house, his features indicating a sort of benign acceptance. “I know Loretta called you. I’m sorry for putting both of you in the middle of this problem with your father.”

Abby’s back immediately stiffened—an involuntary reaction she experienced when dealing with anyone who even hinted that something might be wrong with Huey. “There’s no problem. Poppy seems okay to me. But if it makes you feel any better about interfering in people’s lives, I can tell you that we’re working on a few things.”

“I don’t want this situation to get blown out of proportion, Abby. I have a job to do. You know that, don’t you?”

She pretended to concentrate on her work. “I wonder how many acts of aggression have been committed under the guise of that excuse.”

He started to respond, but she added, “It’s okay, Reese.

You have to protect the people of Key West from the threatening presence of a confused senior citizen. It must be a mammoth responsibility.”

He rubbed his thumb over his clean-shaven chin and stared at her a moment, as though trying to decide if her sarcasm was for real. After a moment, he said, “I can’t imagine why we haven’t run into each other in the seven years since I’ve been back.”

“I don’t return to the island often,” she said. At least, I haven’t in the past seven years.

“How long you planning to stay this visit?”

She glared at him determinedly. “As long as it takes to get the authorities off my father’s case.”

His lips curled into a genuine grin. “It’s a great time of year to be here. Decorations are going up on Duval Street and Mallory Square today. Plans are under way for the Christmas boat parade. You’ll see a lot you remember about the holidays, plus some new additions.”

“Can’t wait,” she said. How nice for Reese to chat about holiday decorations as if he weren’t on a one-man mission to pester Huey into having the worst Christmas ever.

Deciding they’d had enough small talk,Abby was about to release Reese from this obligatory visit when her father shouted, “Scram!”A single word delivered from the veranda with enough force to approximate a shot from a rifle.

Startled, Abby spun around. Reese, seemingly unconcerned, took a slow step toward the porch. “’Morning, Huey,” he said.

“Get off my property, Burkett!”

Huey filled the front entrance. His old shotgun rested against his right elbow, the barrel pointed toward the porch floor.

Abby rushed to him. “Poppy, what are you doing?”

He had the good sense to set the weapon against the door frame. “Reminding certain people that this is Vernay property.”

She grabbed the gun and put it out of his reach. “Do you always greet visitors by threatening them with firepower?”

“Mostly just pain-in-the-ass police captains.” He stared at her, obviously noting her shocked expression. “It’s not loaded, Abby. I keep it for show.”

She opened the breech of the shotgun he’d taught her to use years ago, and looked down the barrel. To her relief, he was being truthful. It was empty. “Someone could see you with this thing and get the wrong impression.”

“No, they wouldn’t,” Huey said, his good eye narrowed at Reese. “They’d get just the impression I want them to have.”

Huey appeared determined to make her efforts on his behalf impossibly difficult. She took the gun inside the house and came back to the porch. “Reese, I didn’t know about this.”

He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. He’s got the proper paperwork for that old thing, and everybody’s aware that he doesn’t have shells for it.”

“That you flatfoots know about, anyway,” Huey said. “Just because you sent Loretta over here to search doesn’t mean she found every bit of contraband.” When Abby started to protest, he waved off her concern and whispered, “Keep your cool, Abigail. If I even have bullets, I don’t remember where they are.”

Reese looked down at the sidewalk and shook his head. Abby couldn’t help sympathizing with his plight for just that moment. Huey didn’t make keeping the peace on Southard Street easy.

“You folks have a nice morning,” Reese said, heading back to his squad car. “You need anything, just call the station.”

“That’ll be the day,” Huey couldn’t resist replying.

STILL SHAKING FROM a tumult of emotions she’d hoped not to experience, Abby sat on the porch steps and dropped her head in her hands. “For heaven’s sake, Poppy, that whole thing with the shotgun was embarrassing.”

Huey leaned against a support pole and looked down at her. “Don’t be embarrassed by anything having to do with Reese Burkett. That man ruined your life.”

She sighed. “He didn’t ruin anything. My life is perfectly fine.” As long as I don’t allow my thoughts to go back more than twelve years.

“Well, he ruined mine, and I’d hate to think you were having any romantic notions about him.”

She turned her head to give her father a cold stare. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“He’s the wrong guy for you to be fantasizing about.”

“I am not fantasizing about Reese. For you to even suggest such a thing is insulting and demeaning.” Abby wasn’t sure how Huey’s suggestion was either one of those things. Nor was she completely honest when she said she didn’t fantasize about Reese. When a woman went to the lengths she had over the past years to avoid a man, it was a safe bet that she fantasized about him plenty. Just maybe not in a good way.

Huey pulled a wicker chair close to the edge of the porch and sat. “Ab, while we’re being so truthful…”

Were they?

“I’m still wondering why you’re here so much before Christmas. You’re not having trouble at work, are you?”

“No. Everything is fine at work. I left a few of my teen pregnancy cases in limbo, but the girls can call me or any of the other counselors anytime. They know that.”

Huey nodded, seeming to accept that explanation. “And why are you staying so long?”

She turned on the step to see him clearly. “You’re almost giving me the impression that you don’t want me here for a full month.”

He raised his hand. “Nope. That’s not it. If it was up to me, I’d have you move back here permanently. We have babies who need good families in the Keys, too. I’m just thinking that your mother might have called you with some cock-and-bull story about me having some problems with Reese.”

“Poppy…”

“I can handle Reese. I can take care of anybody who comes on this property.”

She thought of the shotgun. “A few minutes ago I saw how you treat trespassers.”

“You’re damn right, baby girl. This half acre is Vernay land. Always will be. Your mother had no business involving you.”

“She’s worried about you.”

“The hell she is.” He lit a cigarette and took a long drag. “I’m glad you’re here, Abigail, but I’m starting to believe that you’ve bought into your mother’s hysteria about the way things are with me.”

Abby leaned toward him. “I’m not so sure it’s hysteria, Poppy. Your confrontation with Reese yesterday convinced me that there are problems. I’m here to help, and if that means both of us standing up to Reese, then I’m with you all the way.”

He frowned. “So now you’re ready to square off with Reese?”

“Yes, now.And if this is some veiled accusation about how I handled the past, I’ve warned you before not to bring it up.”

He shrugged. “Consider it forgotten. For now.”

Abby stood. “I’ll make you some breakfast.”

She felt the press of familiar feelings of guilt as she went into the house. She knew the blame for what had happened thirteen years ago lay mostly on her shoulders. She was the one who had made the crucial decision.

REESE CALLED THE STATION and told the sergeant on duty that he’d be a few minutes late. The previous half hour with Abby had left him shaken. He’d gone over to see if he could make things right between the Vernays and himself. After all, Huey had been hurt on Reese’swatch, and he could just imagine how Abby viewed the incident. Fortunately, Huey’s injuries were minor, but they wouldn’t have happened at all if Reese hadn’t shown up and tried to force the guy into the patrol car. Cops often made tough decisions that they either had to rationalize or learn to live with later.

He headed north on Route 1 toward Burkett’s Paradise Marina. If anyone understood the pressures a cop lived under, it was Frank Burkett. Though he’d given up the job years ago, he still felt a strong kinship with the guys on the force.

Reese parked in the marina lot next to his father’s beefed-up Ford pickup, which was used for hauling boats. He got out of the patrol car and walked into the pristine blue-and-white metal building that combined a full-service mechanics area with a sales department that stocked every imaginable device for the avid boater, fisherman or recreational water enthusiast.

Ellen Burkett was behind the cash register, cashing out a customer who’d loaded up on pre-rigged trolling lines and plastic lures. Frank sat at the end of the counter, a cup of coffee steaming in front of him. “Hey, son,” he called out. “What’s going on in town? Rounding up any bad guys?”

Frank started every conversation with a question about Reese’s job as a cop. He never began by saying how many boats he’d rented out, or if the bill-fish were running. Reese knew why his father had quit the force. Ellen had wanted him to. She’d claimed the stress was getting to her and she was tired of worrying about him every time he put on his uniform and left the house. Deep down, Reese knew his mother had always hoped her husband would be more than a patrol cop. She’d got her wish. Now he was the owner of the biggest marina on the island. And he spent every morning sitting and drinking coffee.

Reese ambled up to the counter. “Haven’t run into any bad guys today,” he said, “unless you count Huey Vernay. I was just at his place.”

Ellen spared a glance in Reese’s direction before returning her attention to the customer.

Frank stirred his coffee. “How’s Huey doing? I heard on my scanner yesterday that the paramedics were called out to his house.”

Frank listened to his home scanner to keep up with what happened on the island. Reese frowned. No doubt about it. His dad had been a good cop, and a happier man when he was on the force. In fact, Reese had been disappointed in him when he’d given in to Ellen’s demands. Even as a kid, Reese had known that a man shouldn’t stop doing what he was put on earth to do, just to please somebody else.

Reese had ignored his mother’s pleas and become a cop himself. Public service ran in his and his dad’s veins. Reese, however, wouldn’t give up his place in the department for anything. Especially now that he’d earned the position of captain of the Patrol Operations Bureau. He hoped to be chief someday.

“Reese?” his dad said. “Is Huey okay?”

“Oh, yeah. He just took a tumble in his front yard and got a black eye.”

Frank shook his head. “Poor guy. It never gets any easier for him.”

Ellen finished her transaction and came up to them. “Don’t waste your sympathy on Huey Vernay,” she said. “Have you forgotten that he’s the one who told the police about Reese’s involvement with those immigrants?”

“No, we haven’t, Mom,” Reese said. “But let it go. It happened years ago.”

She sniffed. “I’m afraid I’m not so forgiving. Huey’s motives when he turned you in had more to do with getting even with the Burketts than doing his civic duty. Besides, he brings all his misfortune on himself.”

Frank conceded her point with a nod. “I suppose, but it’s still a shame. He’s likable enough if you peel away that crusty exterior.”

Ellen busied herself clearing away Frank’s coffee cup and wiping nonexistent stains from the counter. “Actually, we may not have to worry about Huey much longer,” she said.

Reese stared at her. “What do you mean?”

“I heard something at city hall the other day. If Huey doesn’t pay his back taxes, they’re going to auction off his house. If we’re lucky, maybe he’ll move away.”

Reese stopped her by placing his hand over hers. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. He owes a small fortune.”

“And you just found out about this?”

“I had heard rumors,” she said. “But now it’s the year end. The county always does property appraisals about this time. Huey’s taxes have shot up like everybody else’s. And he still owes last year’s payment and some from the year before.”

Her husband stood. “Ellen, you didn’t tell me any of this.”

“Well, now you know, Frank. I say it’s good news. That old house of Huey’s is an eyesore, and the Community Improvement Board can’t get him to do anything. This is what he deserves. Besides, we should worry about ourselves. Our taxes are going up, as well. Yours, too, Reese. Wait till you get the bill.”

Reese rubbed his forehead. “Abby’s not going to be happy when she hears this.”

Ellen looked at him. “Abby? What’s she got to do with this? Is she here?”

“Yep. I just left her in the front yard, raking up stuff from last summer’s storms.”

His mother’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know Abby was coming to town.”

“Loretta called her to help out with Huey.”

Ellen crossed her arms. “She’s got quite a job there. I hope you don’t get mixed up with that bunch, Reese. The whole lot of them are trouble. Loretta taking up with Huey’s brother, Huey acting like a crazy man…How long is Abby staying?”

“I didn’t ask her. But if what you say is true, she’s got more worries with Huey than just his code violations.”

Leaving the marina, Reese wondered if Abby had heard about the taxes. She probably hadn’t, since Ellen knew everything on the island before anyone else found out, and he figured Huey wouldn’t have told her.

Reese pictured Abby’s reaction when she learned the news, and he decided to check his mother’s facts on his own. Then he’d take an even bigger step. He’d tell Abby himself. She already resented his interference in Huey’s life, but she had to believe she could trust him. He wasn’t that wild guy she’d known years ago. He was a cop now, not a crusader who ignored the law.

He sat in his truck a minute, looking over the water, hoping the panorama of a glass-smooth Gulf would calm him. Not today. Not when Abby’s troubles were on his mind. She’d stood right up to him this morning, staunchly denying that Huey had any problems.

He remembered that proud stubbornness from when she’d been in high school. She always kept herself apart from everyone.Apart and above.He’d never once heard ofAbigail Vernay breaking the rules or getting into trouble. She’d been a straight-A student and always seemed to possess a fierce determination to succeed despite not having a lot of support from home. When Abby was just a kid, Loretta had tried to be a good mother to her, stretching limited dollars every way she could. But Huey had always managed to screw up.

Reese recalled Loretta’s saying that Abby worked in social services in Atlanta. He figured she’d be tops at whatever she did.

He cranked up the engine on the patrol car and smiled. In his youth, he’d pulled a lot of stunts he wasn’t proud of. Some of them he would arrest himself for now. And a couple of them, including that one brief encounter with Abby, came back to haunt him sometimes. But he’d bet that Abby didn’t have much in her past to be ashamed of.