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Rattling off her cell phone number to him, she wondered if it was so he could keep in touch about the dog. “I don’t even know the landline.”
“I’ve got that already.” He reached for the door handle on the truck. “I’ll close and lock the gate,” he said. “Stay up here.”
He nodded at the porch, making her wonder what was out there that she should be cautious about. But she didn’t want to delay him once he was making an exodus, and she didn’t want to think about what might be waiting in the swamp.
“Okay,” she replied, watching him get in, wave to her and drive off.
She picked up the puppy and saw the red taillights get smaller in the distance, the brake lights go on, a faint rattle of the gate closing, and then his lights disappearing.
“Let’s get inside.”
She repeated the routine of the first night, leaving the windows open but locking the shutters in place, double-checking the door locks, and headed upstairs.
That morning after toileting the puppy and getting her breakfast kibble and a cup of coffee, Maggie steeled herself to look at the text messages she’d been avoiding. One she dreaded was from a person whom she’d considered a dear friend for most of her life. They’d gone to high school together and then college, and when she got married, Claudia was her maid of honor. And then it came crashing down.
She read part of the text.
Please, please don’t shut me out. Please forgive me.
Maggie looked off to the water, the shimmery, diamond glow, a boat zipping across the bay so far away she couldn’t hear his motor but saw a small black dot moving fast from right to left.
The wise thing to do would be to block all the parties involved. Block them from her phone and social media and her email accounts. But a part of her, maybe a sick part, needed to know where they were and what they were doing.
The family and trusted friends had been sworn to secrecy. No one else knew where she was. Her attorney would handle anything that needed her signature. He was the only other human being who knew she was in Cypress Cove.
The puppy stood on her chubby hind legs and pawed at her to be picked up.
“You little lifesaver, you,” she murmured, nuzzling the doggie’s head. Herein lay the problem. Her curiosity forcing her to keep the lines of communication open, as one-sided as they were, was also causing a problem because now having read one line, she was upset.Please forgive me.
Her phone rang and she jumped into the air, scaring the pup, too. “Sorry, baby. Hello?”
“Maggie, it’s Randy Jaeger.”
Her lawyer.
“I was just thinking of you,” she said, laughing. “Your call scared me and my puppy to death, but other than that, it’s nice hearing from you.”
“I’m here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m at your gate. Can I come in?”
“How on earth do you have cell service?”
“Well, you’ve got it, so we must have the same carrier. ’Cause here I am!”
“I’m not dressed. Let me throw on some clothes and I’ll be right down.”
She put the puppy in her crate just to keep her safe, and ran upstairs. Jeans and a bandanna to cover her hair would have to do. Why on earth was her lawyer there at that hour? He must have left at five in the morning. The only reason she could think of was because he had money for her.
Slipping sneakers on, she sprinted down to the gate.
“Geez, look at you, girl,” he yelled out the window. “Still fast.”
“Yep, my daily six-hundred-yard dash. The only moves I make all day.”
She scrolled through the combination of the lock and it opened the first time. Walking the gate back, she let him go through and then decided she was going to close it again and lock it. Now that she had men coming and going for whatever reason, she wasn’t taking any chances with her privacy.
