He was tired. After all, it had been a long day. He was glad it was over.
9
Abee Cole’s stomach felt like someone was branding it, and the fever had yet to break, making him think that he should probably ask the doctor about his wound the next time he came into the room to check on Ted. Course, they’d probably want to admit him, too, and that wasn’t gonna happen. Might bring up questions that Abee didn’t feel like answering.
It was late, coming up on midnight, and the hospital had finally begun to quiet down. In the dim light, he looked over at his brother, thinking that Dawson had done a real number on him. Just like last time. Abee thought he was dead when he’d found him. Face covered in blood, arm bent sideways, and all he could think was that Ted had gotten careless. Either that, or Dawson had been waiting for him — which got him to thinking that maybe Dawson had plans of his own.
Abee felt the pain flare in his gut, triggering waves of nausea. The hospital wasn’t helping. It was like a damn furnace here. The only reason Abee was still in the room was because he wanted to be around if Ted woke up, so he could find out if Dawson was up to something. He felt a shiver of paranoia but assumed that maybe he wasn’t thinking straight. The antibiotics had better kick in, and soon.
The night had gone to hell, and not just because of Ted. He’d decided to swing by and see Candy earlier, but by the time he got to the Tidewater, half the guys in the bar were crowding around her. One look was enough for him to know that she was up to something. She was wearing a halter top that showed off everything she owned and a pair of shorty shorts that barely covered her rear. When she saw him walk in, she instantly got all nervous, like she’d been caught doing something wrong, and she sure as hell didn’t seem happy to see him. He’d wanted to drag her out of the bar right there, but with so many people around he decided that might not be such a good idea. Later, he knew, they’d talk and she’d see the light of day. No question about that, but for the time being, it was better to figure out exactly why she’d been acting so guilty when he’d walked in. Or rather, who she was feeling guilty about.
Because that’s what was going on, clear as day. Some guy at the bar, no doubt, and even though he was still light-headed with fever and his stomach was on fire, he was going to find out exactly which one of them it was.
So he’d settled in to wait, and after a little while he’d identified someone who just might be the one. Young guy, dark hair, flirting just a little too much with Candy for it to be a casual thing. He watched her touch his arm and give him an eyeful of her cleavage when she brought him his beer, and he’d just gotten up to take care of it when his phone started ringing, with Dawson on the other end. The next thing he knew, he was pounding on the steering wheel as he made his way to the hospital, Ted sprawled in the seat behind him. Even as he raced to New Bern, he pictured Candy with that cocky loser, taking off her halter top and moaning in his arms.
Right now, she was getting off work, and the thought filled him with rage. Because he knew exactly who was walking her to her car, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Right now, he had to find out what Dawson was up to.
Ted drifted in and out of consciousness throughout the night, drugs and the concussion keeping him hazy, even when he was awake, but by midmorning the following day, all he could feel was rage. At Abee, because he kept asking whether Dawson was going to come after him; at Ella, because she kept whining and worrying and sniffling; and for the whispering he could hear from his kinfolk in the hallway, like they were wondering whether they should still be afraid of him. Mainly, though, the rage was focused on Dawson, and Ted lay in the bed, still trying to figure out exactly what had happened. The last thing he remembered before waking up in the hospital was Dawson standing over him, and it took a long time for him to make any sense of what Abee and Ella were telling him. By the end, the doctors had to put him in restraints and were threatening to call the police.
He’d been acting calmer since then because it was the only way he was going to get out of here. Abee was in the chair and Ella was on the bed beside him. She kept fussing over him, and he stifled the urge to backhand her, even though he was strapped to the bed and couldn’t do it even if he tried. Instead, he tested the straps again, thinking about Dawson. He was going to die, no doubt about it, and Ted didn’t give a rat’s ass about the doctor’s recommendation that he stay another night for observation, or his warning that moving around might be dangerous. Dawson might be leaving town at any minute. And when he heard Ella start to hiccup through her sobs, he spoke through gritted teeth.
“Go away,” he said. “I gotta talk to Abee.”
Ella wiped her face and exited the room without a sound. When she was gone, Ted turned toward Abee, thinking his brother looked like crap. Red in the face, sweating. The infection. Abee was the one who needed to be in the hospital, not him.
“Get me out of here.”
Abee winced as he leaned forward. “You going back to get him?”
“It ain’t over.”
He pointed to the cast. “And just how you gonna get him with your arm all broken up like that? If you couldn’t get him yesterday with two good arms?”
“ ’Cause you’re going out with me. First you’re going to bring me home so I can get another Glock. Then you and me are going to end this.”
Abee leaned back in his chair. “And why would I want to do that?”
Ted held his gaze, thinking about Abee’s earlier stream of anxious questions.
“ ’Cause last thing I remember before I blacked out, he told me that you were next.”
10
Dawson ran on the packed sand near the water’s edge, halfheartedly chasing the terns as they darted in and out of the waves. Despite the early hour, the beach was crowded with other joggers and people walking their dogs, kids already building sandcastles. Beyond the dune, people were on their decks drinking coffee, feet propped on the railings as they enjoyed the morning.
He’d been lucky to get a room. At this time of year, hotels at the beach were usually booked solid, and it had taken a few calls to find a place that had a cancellation. His choices were to find a room around here or at a hotel in New Bern. And since the hospital was located in New Bern, he decided it was better to remain farther away. He would have to lie low. Ted, he suspected, wasn’t about to let this go.
Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t stop thinking about the dark-haired man. If he hadn’t gone after him, he would never have known that Ted was lying in wait. The image — the ghost — had beckoned to him and he’d followed, just as he had in the ocean after the platform had exploded.
The two incidents chased each other around in his brain, an endless loop. Saving his life once might have been an illusion, but twice? For the first time, he began to wonder if the visits by the dark-haired man might have some greater purpose, as though he were being saved for a reason, even if he wasn’t sure what that might be.
Trying to escape his thoughts, Dawson increased his pace, his breaths coming harder. He removed his shirt without slowing down and used it as a towel to wipe the sweat from his face. He zeroed in on the pier in the distance, resolving to run even faster until he reached it. Within minutes, the muscles in his legs were burning. He pushed on, trying to focus narrowly on driving his body to the limit, but his eyes kept flicking from side to side, unconsciously scanning the beachgoers for a sight of the dark-haired man.