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Her head buzzed. She needed desperately to take a breath but he had a death grip on her wrist. Even if she thought about going to the surface and taking her chances against the would-be killer with the gun, Landry wasn’t letting her go.
Suddenly he stopped swimming and pulled her upward. Her eyes were open but all she could see was blackness as her head broke the surface. She gasped for breath, her lungs burning. Her free hand struck something hard.
“Quiet,” Landry whispered and she realized they’d come up under one of the docks along the canal.
She sucked in air, her body trembling from fear and lack of oxygen, as she treaded water, unable to touch bottom. The water was cold and she kept going under.
Landry pulled her to him, holding her up so her head was above water. His body felt warm and strong. She let him take her we
ight and fought the need to cry. She’d gone twenty-five years without anyone trying to kill her and now every time she turned around someone was shooting at her or putting snakes in her bathtub. She wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take.
As if Landry sensed her despair, he pulled her closer, pressing his cheek to hers, holding her gently. She wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes.
Overhead someone stepped onto the dock. It rocked, making the water under the dock splash. Landry pulled her out deeper into the water until they were almost to the end of the dock, never letting go of her.
The footsteps were slow, purposeful. Did the killer know they were under the dock? Had he seen them? The dock pushed down as the would-be killer walked to the end, leaving little space above their heads for air. But in Landry’s arms, Willa felt safe. The irony of it wasn’t lost on her.
She leaned back, trying not to panic. Landry was still holding her, his touch calming. She thanked God she wasn’t alone or she knew she would have been dead. He’d saved her again. Her heart swelled, tears burning her eyes.
The dock buoyed upward as the footsteps retreated back down the dock.
They waited, listening. Water lapped softly at the sides of the dock. A dog barked in the distance. Finally there was the sound of a car engine, the crunch of gravel beneath the tires and then the growl of the car’s motor dying away in the distance.
“Wait here for just a second,” Landry whispered and disappeared below the water.
He was gone for more than a second. She was getting ready to panic when he reappeared.
“Looks clear. Take my hand.”
She did as he told her, swimming down before heading again to the surface. They came up on the lee side of the dock out of the moonlight. Quietly they swam to shore.
She was shaking hard now, the cold, the fear, all her adrenaline long gone. He helped her up onto the shore. Her legs trembled. She stumbled and would have gladly sat down for a while but he dragged her up along the side of the fish shack, then across the street, moving fast.
It would be light soon, surprising her how much time had gone by since they’d left the island.
The phone booth was an old-fashioned one, the kind that were hard to find, thanks to cell phones and vandalism. Landry dug out a handful of coins and dropped them on the metal tray.
Keeping the door open so the overhead light didn’t come on, she dialed Information, waited and then asked for Evan Charles’s number. She repeated it out loud to Landry, then still shaking, dialed Evan’s number, using the coins Landry supplied as he stood guard. The answering machine picked up after the fifth ring.
“Evan. It’s Willa St. Clair. I need to talk to you. If you’re there, could you—”
“Willa?” Evan sounded groggy.
“I’m sorry to call you at this hour but I need your help.”
“Oh girl, I heard what happened. It’s in the all papers. You must be scared to death, sweetie. Was it just awful?”
She had to smile, imagining him sitting up in bed now, eating up the drama. “Evan, what did you do with my paintings that didn’t sell?”
“You need money. Of course you do. I told you I could sell them if you let me keep them in the shop.”
Her heart fell. “Is that what you did?”
“Of course not. You told me you wanted to wait until you could have another show and we agreed that would give you the most play.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “How many are left?”
“Not even half a dozen.”
