Chapter 6

I ran my fingers under the glove compartment and beneath the steering column. Those were Max's favorite spots. However, I found nothing. It didn't surprise me. If he planted anything, he'd have needed a warrant; if a warrant had been issued, I would have heard about it. My sources were well placed and always needed cash. I trusted their greed like I trusted Avery’s friendship.

So why was Max following me?

No warrant meant no evidence. Max had to be on a fishing expedition, hoping to land a bite. I had half a mind to let him trail me all the way to Florida and enjoy a weekend listening to girl talk. Instead, I looked through my CDs, selected Check Your Head, and turned up the volume. Getting back on the interstate, I pushed the gas and glanced at my rearview mirror. They were right behind me.

I had been driving at a normal pace for most of the trip so Bozack knew something was happening as we flew into the left-hand lane. He hopped in the backseat and whimpered softly.

The Explorer stayed with me as we approached Florence and the highway became less crowded. I had to move fast if I wanted to lose them. Turning up the stereo, and against Bozack's wishes, we accelerated and swerved around cars and trucks, the music and angry horns egging me on. I pictured Max smiling as he tried to keep up with me; the man loved an old-fashioned car chase.

As the next exit approached, I quickly checked my rearview mirror. The Explorer struggled to keep up with several cars between us. I had to do something before we got too far from the city and the highway cleared again. While Bozack howled, I swerved across two lanes and barely made the exit. I ran the red light at the bottom of the ramp, turned left, pushed on the gas and drove down a rural road going at least seventy-five.

I continued to look for the Explorer, but it was nowhere in sight. After a few minutes, with no sign of them, I pulled into a gas station. Max's new partner gave me the creeps. I ran around to the back of the Escalade, opened the hatch, and rustled through my bags. The small tin box sat at the bottom of the last suitcase. I grabbed my headset, hooked it up, and carried it to the front seat. Raising the antenna, I flipped the switch and listened.

At first I heard nothing; then Max started talking.

"Don't get mad at me, big guy. I'm as good a driver as you can find."

"She's just better," his new partner said. "See her anywhere?"

"She's gone," Max replied. "I told you not to wear a fucking suit. She knew who you were the minute she saw you."

"Goddamnit! We have no idea where she's heading. I'll bet you there's a job south of here somewhere and she'll be in and out before we know a thing."

New partner seemed high-strung and spoke with a thick Chicago accent. He sounded like Mike Ditka on speed.

"A job?" Max asked. "You think she'd drive to a job? Who drives nowadays?"

"What's your guess then? You've been watching her longer than I have."

"She's with her dog," he said slowly, " so my guess is a vacation. She's probably going to one of those beach resorts in South Carolina or Georgia. She'll relax for a while and that's about it."

"Jesus Christ, if her story's true and she's just a trust-fund baby who lucked out with the stock market, why the hell does she need a rest? Her whole goddamn life is a time-out."

"You know, Anthony," Max said. "It'll help if you don't hate her so much. Learn to like her a little. It's worked for me."

"Worked for you, my ass," Anthony said. "It hasn't gotten you anywhere. Personally, I can't wait to nail her. She's a scourge and I'm gonna enjoy slammin' her face into the fuckin' concrete."

"Quite the gentleman," I said.

I removed my headset and turned off the box. I had heard enough. Anthony and Max didn't know anything and that's all that mattered. I put the box back into my suitcase. Avery had given the entire kit to me years ago with instructions to use it wisely. The little toy came in handy and I rarely left home without it. Bozack ran around while I went inside the gas station and got directions to St. Augustine using the back roads.

"I want to see a bit of America," I told the girl behind the counter, "not the highways."

She smiled and mapped it out for me.

As I got on State Road 85, the setting sun colored the sky a dusty pink. I let Bozack lick my nose and felt calm once more.

"I lost them, buddy," I said.

Max would find me again. He always did and hopefully Anthony wouldn't be in tow.

I stopped at a Bed-n-Breakfast before it got dark and tried to rest that evening. Not easy when the lady running the place stayed up late watching Forest Gump with the volume so high they could hear it in Duluth. I went downstairs to complain, but she just pointed at her hearing aids and shrugged her shoulders. I ended up watching most of it with her.

The next day, Bozack and I took our time and stopped at numerous beaches and tourist traps. I’d grab an ice cream or hotdog, sit on a park bench with Bozack, and watch people. Families were the best. Fathers studying maps while mothers applied sunblock to children who were anxious to run off and play. I didn’t see many unhappy groups, perhaps just a bored teenager or two. Nice change of pace. After a while, I’d drive a bit and stop again. Avery was right; it felt good to relax.

I arrived in St. Augustine and the city charmed me immediately. I drove around a while, looking at buildings and tourists. The streets were small, similar to a northern town, but the palm trees and ocean breeze gave it a coziness only found in the South. My friends weren't to arrive until the following day, so I checked into my room and took Bozack for a walk around the property. The hotel, Ocean Gate Resort, sat right on the beach. I had forgotten how good it felt to squish sand between my toes. The resort entertained refined, old-fashioned ladies and gentlemen. No wonder Sarah had picked it.

Sick of eating greasy food in my car, I dressed up for dinner and drinks at The Raintree in the center of Old St. Augustine. Couples sat all around me. Normally, eating alone didn’t bother me. However, after almost a week on my own was more than enough. Needless to say, I didn't linger over dessert. Like me, Bozack enjoyed good food and had been missing it. I brought him leftover goodies and he almost bit into my fingers while gobbling up the chicken and potatoes. With full tummies, we both crawled into bed before sundown and fell asleep.

I woke early and put on a T-shirt and running shorts. For the first time in ten years, I left for an early morning jog without mace or a whistle. The beach sat quiet with just a few early risers.

Bozack loved playing in the water, a new experience for my city dog. He barked at the fish, ran around in circles and nearly tackled me twice in his excitement. I never enjoyed swimming in the sea; I have issues with sand up my ass. Nevertheless, when I took a quick dip after jogging, it felt great. As the beach got crowded, I went back to my room to wash up.

Getting out of the shower, I heard someone knock at my door. I grabbed a towel and reached for the doorknob without looking through the peephole or mentally locating my gun. The door opened and a tall brunette, at least six feet, stood smiling.

"Rebekah!" I exclaimed and we gave each other a hug.

Rebekah's thick black hair hung down the middle of her back and she had a rich tan that matched her brown eyes. Dressed in khakis and a white halter-top, her sandals showed off French-manicured toenails. She wore a tan scarf around her neck and sparkled from head to toe. There were diamonds in her ears, a diamond engagement ring on her right hand with an inch-think diamond wedding band on her left. She would later explain that the engagement and wedding rings were simply too big for one finger. Rebekah looked breathtaking while I stood there adjusting my towel and dripping all over the carpet.

"You look fantastic," I said in awe. "Pardon my appearance. I was trying to shower away the smell of seaweed from an early morning swim."

"Hey," she said, "you look fabulous. Not everyone can pull off the wet-look."

She gave me another hug.

"It's so good to see you, Liv," she said.

"It's good to see you, too," I said. "Meet my dog Bozack."

"Hi sweetie," she squealed, scratching Bozack under his chin. "What a beautiful dog!"

"Thanks," I replied from the bathroom, quickly getting into my navy blue chinos and powder blue halter-top. I suddenly felt self-conscious and threw my mop into a ponytail. What would they think of me? I applied lipgloss, mascara, and smiled away the butterflies.

"I'm in the room right next to you," Rebekah said, walking around. "You have a better view. I can't quite see the beach, just the pool underneath us. The men here are hairy."

"Did you fly up from Miami?" I asked, coming out of the bathroom.

"Sure did," she said. "You look so good. Like a Breck Girl. Where did you fly in from?"

"I didn’t. I drove."

"Really," she said. "Aren’t you brave? By the way, your hair looks great. Turns out it does grow down instead of out. Do you wear glasses anymore?"

"Sometimes," I said. "Mostly I wear contacts. I still can’t get over that nose of yours!"

"Worth every penny" she said, laughing. "Fuck heredity."

Rebekah had grown into an exotic and glamorous woman, but I could still see the same girl who taught me how to buy a bra. Underneath expensive jewelry stood the same teenager who sent me lyrics to Melt With You by Modern English because she didn't want me to forget about poetry. Behind the new nose hid the same young woman who sent me boxes of AstroGlide from Europe because she declared it the best invention of the twentieth century. She was the same, my friend.

"Let's go downstairs and get a Bloody-Mary," Rebekah said.