Page 15 of Lost Love Cove 2
Carrie bent to place another sandbag against her front door. The rough fabric scraped her palms, and sweat ran down the side of her neck, despite the cool air. The storm was real now. The sky had turned a darker gray; clouds piled and twisted above the island.
Still, her mind was not on the boards or the bags. It was in Key West. Maggie was there, with Alisha and Cody. Carrie could not stop picturing them in the crowd, trying to find shelter, frightened by the alerts.
Her phone rang, breaking through her thoughts. She fumbled it from her pocket, her heart lurching when she saw it was her son, Trent. “Hello, honey,” she answered quickly.
“Mom, are you all right?” Trent’s voice came sharp and urgent.
Her heart squeezed. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Where are you?”
“I’m in Key West. The ferries are closed because of the storm. I can’t get across.” Trent told her.
Carrie froze. “You’re in Key West already? You came early?”Oh, no, another one of my loved ones stranded in Key West during this awful storm.
“I got leave sooner than expected,” Trent said. His tone softened but did not lose its edge. “I’m worried about you. I don’t like you and Maggie being out there on the island with this storm coming.”
“I’m not alone,” Carrie assured him. “My neighbor is here, and a detective from Key West is helping us prepare.”
“Neighbor?” Trent’s voice sharpened with suspicion. “What do you really know about this neighbor? And what about the detective?”
“They are both good people,” Carrie said firmly, though she felt the same hesitation she always did when she had to explain her situation to her son. “Listen, Trent, Maggie is in Key West. She is with my neighbor’s daughter, Alisha, and her son, Cody. They are stranded there because of the storm. If I give you Alisha’s number, can you find them and make sure they are safe?”
“Of course,” Trent said immediately and paused. “You must trust these neighbors to allow someone to take Maggie on a trip to Key West.”
“I do.” Carrie’s voice grew with urgency. She didn’t have time to get into trust issues with her son right now. “Look, honey. Let me call Alisha first to let her know you’ll be contacting her, so she doesn’t think some random guy pretending to be my son is calling her.”
“Fair enough. But call me right back,” Trent ordered, his voice low and insistent.
“I will.” She ended the call and dialed Alisha.
The phone rang three times before Alisha picked up. Relief lasted only a second before Carrie heard the panic in her voice.
“Carrie! Is my dad there?”
“What is wrong?” Carrie demanded, ignoring the question.
“I might be paranoid,” Alisha said quickly, “but I think someone is following us.”
Carrie’s skin prickled. “What does he look like?”
"I didn't get a good look. He was sitting at a booth in the movie house, hunched behind a magazine—one of those glossy travel ones with palm trees on the cover. When we walked past, I caught a flash of a dark baseball cap pulled low." She paused, her breath whistling through the phone. "I didn't think anything of it until I saw him again across the food court of the mall, pretending to study a storm evacuation map." Her voice broke off into ragged breathing that crackled against Carrie's ear. When she spoke again, her words came out staccato, sharp with fear. "We have to go." In the background, Carrie heard Alisha's urgent whisper: "Cody, take Maggie's hand—tight, like we practiced—and don't let go no matter what." Then Alisha's voice returned, closer to the phone. "He's across the street now, under the awning of a shell shop, and... I swear he's watching us through the window reflection."
Carrie's heart slammed against her ribs, each beat a hammer strike that echoed in her temples.
"Alisha, wait," Carrie cried, gripping the phone so tightly her knuckles bleached white. "My son Trent will call you. He's in Key West. He's an FBI agent with a badge and gun—he'll help you."
"Okay, tell him to hurry—" The rest dissolved into twin high-pitched screams that pierced through the connection. "What the—" Alisha hissed, followed by a sickening thud. The line went dead.
Carrie stared at the phone's blank screen, her hand trembling like a palm frond in the rising wind.
She dialed Trent with fingers that felt disconnected from her body, missing the screen twice before connecting.
"Mom?" His voice came at once, solid as bedrock.
“Trent, find Alisha and the kids now,” Carrie said, her voice breaking. “Someone is following them. It’s connected to what is happening here. I’m sending you her number.” She typed quickly and hit send.
“I have it,” Trent said. “Mom, what is?—”
The call cut out. Carrie pulled the phone away and stared at the screen. No bars.
