“It is a great place to fall in love,” Rafter added.
“Um, how it works Jon, is you’re supposed to have already fallen in love before you get married.”
Rafter laughed. “Don’t worry, Annie, I don’t have it backwards. I fell in love with you the instant I met you.”
“Are you serious? I was a mess, lying in the road, beaten to within an inch of my life and covered in mud.”
“No lie, it’s the truth. Kneeling there in the drenching rain, my heart skipped the moment I turned you over.”
“You’re heart only skipped because my appearance frightened you.”
“No, that’s not the case at all. I knew a beautiful princess hid underneath all the mud and bruises.”
Annie kissed him on the cheek. “That’s a sweet thing to say, Jon. It was love at first sight for me too. When I finally woke up and found myself in your house, I saw you standing in the candlelight; I thought you were George Clooney at first. I thought I was dreaming.”
“And then you figured out you were only hallucinating.”
“I admit I was a little groggy from all the knots on my head. But I wasn’t delusional.”
“People say I look like Clooney. But I don’t see the resemblance.”
“It’s only a slight resemblance. Actually, I think you’re more handsome than George, and you don’t look as old.”
“You’re really buttering me up, Babe.”
Annie nestled in closer to him as they strolled in the sand, arm in arm. “I’m telling the truth, Jon. You’re quite the catch. I thank God every day for placing you in my life. I don’t know what I would do without you. You’re my miracle man.”
They fell silent again as they walked, content to listen to the Atlantic Ocean’s rhythmical advance and retreat. The crashing surf hypnotized Rafter little by little.
“We should probably turn back, Annie. We’ve left our beach house far behind us.” The words had barely left his mouth when Annie started hopping around on one leg. “Are you okay?”
Annie stopped hopping after a bit. She looked down at the sand. “I stepped on something hard and sharp,” she said.
Rafter pulled his phone from his pocket and activated the built-in flashlight. He shined the light onto the sand near Annie’s feet. The light spotlighted something dark and foreign. He squatted down and examined it closely. “It’s definitely not a seashell. It looks like some kind of weird rock.”
Annie dropped down beside him. She picked up the object and inspected it under his phone light. “I think I know what this is. I believe it’s a fulgurite.”
“What is a fulgurite?”
“Haven’t you seen the movie Sweet Home Alabama?”
“I’m afraid I missed that one,” Rafter said.
“Well, it is a chic flick. So I’m not surprised you haven’t seen it. Anyway, if lightning strikes the right kind of dirt or sand, and if the lightning burns at just the right temperature, it can cause the sand grains to fuse together into a glass-like tube,” Annie explained. “This fulgurite is fresh. It probably formed earlier this evening during the thunderstorm.”
“Can I see it?”
Annie handed it over to him. Rafter took the fulgurite in his hands. The bumpy, tube-shaped object looked to be about six inches wide by eight inches long by two inches thick. “So is a fulgurite like petrified lightning?”
“I don’t know. I guess it could be. I bet if we dug down we could find more fulgurites buried in the sand.”
“It’s shaped like a cross. Did you notice that?”
“I didn’t. But now that you mention it, it does resemble a cross. And it’s about the same size as a crucifix.”
Rafter grinned and held up the lightning-formed crucifix. “This is miraculous in a way. I guess you could say we’re standing on holy ground.”
“Yeah, good thing we’re barefoot.”
Rafter stood up. He’d broken his pelvis less than a year ago. Squatting in the sand made it ache. “Annie, there’s something I need to tell you. Now is as good a time as any.”
Annie stood up and looked at him curiously. “Okay, I’m a little worried. You sound serious, Jon. But go ahead.”
Rafter dropped the fulgurite into the sand and took Annie’s hands in his. “First off, I take our marriage vows seriously. We’ve entered into a covenant. And I intend to keep every vow. But I wish now I would’ve pledged one more vow during our ceremony.” Rafter paused. A lump formed in his throat. He started to get emotional. “So with God as my witness, I pledge to protect you from harm, to keep you safe from evil people like Sebastian and Jean-Paul Boudreaux.”
“I don’t need you to be my guardian, Jon. I just need you to be my husband.”
Rafter shook his head. “You’ve been through so much, Annie, more than any person should have to bear. So until I take my last breath, until death separates us, I will protect you. No one will ever take you hostage again.”
****
Remembering the vow he made on the moonlit beach ignited a murderous fury inside Rafter. He’d promised to keep Annie safe from people like Arcadias, to never let her be kidnapped again. And he’d failed her. His words on the beach rang hollow now.
If he ever got Arcadias alone he didn’t know if he could hold back his fury. He might just break every bone in the man’s face. Lord, please help me calm down. This rage I feel isn’t going to help end this crisis. Please don’t let me do anything rash and stupid.
Chapter 39
Newton Laskey and his two agents stood near the police cruiser and talked to Detective Jack Casey. The detective from the Iberville Parish Sheriff’s Department had just given them a condensed version of the events leading up to Copeland Police Officer Josiah Barrett’s death.
“It doesn’t make any sense, Detective,” Laskey said.
Jack Casey scratched his head. “What specifically doesn’t make sense? If you ask me, crime never makes any sense.”
“You said Officer Barrett was shot in the back three times.”
“If I did, I misspoke. Barrett was actually shot twice in the side and once in the back,” Casey clarified, his voice steady and clinical.
“And he was shot with full-metal jacket rounds?”
“Yes. There were entry and exit wounds. The exit wounds were much larger and ragged than the entry wounds. The entry wounds were symmetrical and had gunpowder and cordite residue ringing them.”
“And Officer Barrett came here looking for an old man who lives down the road and was missing.”
“Yes, Cora Hoxley said her husband Ned came here to tell the Rafters’ their dog was injured, and Ned never came back. That’s why Barrett came here.”
“I take it he answered the call on his own without any backup.”
Casey nodded somberly. “Copeland used to contract with the sheriff’s department to run nightly patrols. But then the city council decided they needed their own police department. Unfortunately the town budget only allocated for two policemen, the chief and Barrett. The chief had finished his shift, and Barrett had just started his when he visited the Hoxley place.”
“What doesn’t make sense to me is that Barrett was shot in the back and side. Why would Barrett turn his back on Jon Rafter if Rafter was the raging lunatic Sheriff Tubbs makes him out to be? Why didn’t Barrett pull his gun, and why wouldn’t the entry wounds be on the front of his body? This tells me he was turning to leave when he was shot. And if he was turning to leave he must’ve thought the old man wasn’t here, or he was an acquaintance of the shooter and trusted him.”