Page 104 of Turn the Tide
Chapter 5
Patty Thomas handed Mr. Winters his daily banana-nut muffin and tried to smile, though her stomach churned with dread. She shuddered when she saw the darkening sky, the building storm clouds outside the Corner Café. She hated weather like this. It always reminded her of the day Freddie… No. She wouldn’t think about him. “You sure you don’t want me to pack that to go? You shouldn’t be out in this weather, sir.”
Mr. Winters smiled his toothless smile and sent her a wink. “Young lady, I’ve lived through plenty worse storms than this. This is nothing but a tempest in a teapot. Besides, a little rain never hurt anybody.” He shuffled over to the first table, his usual spot. The place was empty except for a family with two kids who were stocking up on sweets and coffee before heading out of town.
Liz stepped up beside her. “You okay, Patty? You look a little green. You know how the weathermen exaggerate when a storm blows through.”
Patty summoned a smile for the café owner. “I know. Storms make me uneasy is all.” She’d always been afraid to say too much about her past, grateful beyond words that Liz was giving her a chance, despite her spotty employment record. Liz couldn’t offer more than part-time work, but it was better than nothing.
She shrugged. “I worry about Mama.” Which was true, just not the only reason she was uneasy. “Okay if I take a little break?” she asked instead.
“Of course. Why don’t you call her, check in?”
Patty hurried into the employee break room in the back and sank into one of the wooden chairs at the little table, the small television on the counter turned down low. Liz would never admit her love of soap operas to anyone, and Patty sure wouldn’t blab her secret.
Patty had her head in her hands, trying to calm down before she called Mama, when the show went to commercial and she heard a voice say, “We interrupt this broadcast for a special news bulletin. Authorities in Marion County are searching for this man: thirty-five-year-old Freddie Marshall, a.k.a. Fang. He was charged with attempted murder and sexual battery. He escaped custody today by leaping out of a van headed for the sheriff’s work farm in Ocala. It is unclear why he was in the work-release van to begin with, given the nature of his crimes. He was last seen along Twenty-Seventh Avenue in northwest Ocala. He is believed to be armed and is considered extremely dangerous. Authorities urge citizens in the area to stay alert and report any sighting to 911. Don’t approach this person on your own.”
Patty froze, sure she hadn’t heard correctly. But then her hands began to shake. Freddie’s shouted threats from the day he was sentenced rang in her ears. “This is not over! You won’t keep my son from me. I’m coming for you, and when I find you, you’ll die.”
She tried to think past her pounding heart. Her hand automatically went to her side, to the scar noting where Freddie had stabbed her nine months ago. She leaped to her feet and almost lost her balance. After Freddie broke her leg in three places, it hadn’t healed quite right and she’d always have a limp. She gripped the back of a chair to steady herself. Donny. And Mama. She had to get to them. She couldn’t even think about what would happen if he got to Mama T’s before she did.
She grabbed her keys and raced out the back door. It wasn’t until she turned Mama’s big Oldsmobile onto the highway that she realized she hadn’t told Liz she was leaving. She’d probably lose her job, but she couldn’t think about that right now. If she couldn’t save her family, none of the rest of it mattered anyway.
***
By the time Marco pulled to a stop, Sarah felt like her teeth were going to rattle out of her head. Between the pounding rain and muddy ground, he hadn’t been able to see the dips in the terrain, and they’d bounced and splashed their way for what seemed like hours. She had no idea where they were. She could barely see a thing past the mud and pouring rain.
Marco had parked the ATV beneath a small lean-to. He reached into the console for Sarah’s medical bag and tucked it under his poncho, then indicated a small cottage barely visible through the rain. He took her hand as they splashed their way through streams of water and gingerly made their way up onto the sagging front porch. Mama T’s little tin-roofed cottage wasn’t very big, though it was neat and tidy, never mind the obvious signs of age all around.
“You okay?” he asked.
Sarah pulled her helmet off, but when she started to reach up to wipe her face, he said, “Hang on. Let me get a handkerchief.” He fished one out of his back pocket, gently gripped her chin in his hand, and wiped the mud from her face while Sarah tried to ignore the feel of his hands on her skin.
She looked over at him and down at herself, then laughed to break the tension weaving around them. Whatever part of them wasn’t soaking wet was covered in mud. “To say we look like drowned rats would be insulting to rats.”
He chuckled, and she felt his laughter all the way to her toes.Focus, girl.She turned and knocked on the front door. “Mama T, it’s Sarah Dutton, the nurse from the clinic. I brought your insulin.”
They waited for what seemed like forever. She knocked again, and she and Marco exchanged concerned glances. Maybe the old woman couldn’t hear them over the pounding rain. “Mama T?” Sarah called again. What if her sugar had gone out of control and she’d gone into a diabetic coma like before?
Marco was poised to break in the door when they heard shuffling, and then the front door slowly eased open. A tiny woman of indeterminate age stood there, a long, gray braid over her shoulder. She squinted at Sarah as if trying to place her. “Who’d you say you was, child?”
Sarah smiled, her relief a palpable thing. “I’m Sarah Dutton. I just started working at the medical clinic. You didn’t come by to pick up your insulin yesterday, and we were getting a little worried, so I thought I’d bring it on by.”
Mama T wrapped one arm around her middle. “That was right kind of you, child, but you shouldn’t have come out in this weather. Land sakes. It’s a frog strangler out there.”
Sarah watched her closely, then hitched a thumb over her shoulder at Marco. “Officer Sanchez was kind enough to bring me on his ATV.”
Marco dipped his head in acknowledgment. “How you doing, Mama T?”
“Feeling a mite queasy, but I’ll be all right. I surely do appreciate all you boys are doing for my Donny,” she said.
As Sarah stepped beside Mama, Marco said, “Donny plays on Josh’s basketball team at the community center. I do a bit of tutoring out there, too.”
“And it’s helping. Come on in, both of you, ’fore you catch your death of chill.” She slowly led the way inside. “Leave your wet stuff on the porch. Don’t want to be cleaning up puddles later.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Marco said as he draped their ponchos over the porch railing.
Once inside, Mama T sank into an old wicker rocker, hurricane lamps lit around the room.
