Authors: Dawn Lee McKenna
What Washes Up (23 page)
“What did he do?”
“I don’t
know
, Sky!”
The wind was whistling like a train outside, and it seemed impossible that it could be louder than it had already been. Maggie looked up toward the kitchen window as something small but hard hit it, and she caught Kyle’s eye. He was staring at the front door, his eyes wide.
“I’m coming, Kyle,” Maggie said. He looked at her, but didn’t say anything.
Sky wiggled her fingers. “Hurry, Mom!”
“Hold still, baby, please,” Maggie said.
She yanked the ropes free and jumped up as Sky pulled her arms around to the front. They were stiff from hours of being bound behind her, and she rolled them gingerly.
“Sky,” I need you to grab the Glock,” Maggie said, as she squatted behind Kyle and started working on the ropes. His thin wrists were bleeding, and the ropes had left welts on them that made Maggie want to scream.
Sky ran over to the kitchen counter and picked up the Glock, where it lay with the Mossberg and her great-grandfather’s .38. “Do you want me to bring it to you?”
“No, I need it for you,” she said. “Do you remember how to use it?”
“Yeah, but…I guess. Why not the .38?”
“This is not the time for a revolver, baby,” Maggie answered. “Just take it. I want you take it, and I want you to take Kyle, and I want you guys to go in your room, and you don’t come out unless I come get you.”
“Mom, wait—”
“You don’t come out unless I come get you, do you understand me?” Maggie yelled.
“Yes.”
A branch slammed into the window behind Sky, and she ducked instinctively, but the glass didn’t break. The branch fell away again as she straightened up and grabbed the extra rounds from the counter and shoved them into her pocket.
Maggie finally pulled Kyle’s wrists free, and she rubbed them for just a second before she pulled him up from the chair. “Kyle, you go with Sky, and you guys stay in there. Do you hear me?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice a croak.
“Go!” Maggie barked at Sky, and the kids ran down the hallway. As soon as she heard their steps, Coco started barking and scratching at the door again. Maggie watched Sky open the door, watched the kids go in and slam the door behind them, then she ran over to the kitchen counter.
She glanced up at the front door several times, as she loaded the Mossberg, shoved a couple of extra rounds in her shorts pocket, and then ran over to the door. The floor was wet from when he had burst through, and she slipped and nearly went down before catching herself.
She put an ear to the door, but it was a ridiculous thing to do. On the other side was nothing
but
noise, and she could hear nothing beyond the pounding of the rain on the deck.
She took a deep breath, slammed back the action on the shotgun, and flung open the door.
Boudreaux was
in the yard, a few feet from the bottom of the stairs. He was almost knee deep in water from the river, and the water closest to him was colored a deep, dark red.
He looked up at her, the wind buffeting him and pushing him, his hair whipping wildly.
Maggie raised the shotgun and felt a catch in her throat as she looked into those eyes, so deeply blue even from this distance.
“I wish you hadn’t come here, Mr. Boudreaux.”
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I am deeply indebted to several people for helping me make this series happen.
Thank you so much to the Betafish, for taking time out of their lives to read each chapter as it was written, and keep me from writing anything stupid or inauthentic.
I am incredibly grateful to John Solomon, executive director of the Apalachicola Chamber of Commerce, and formerly of the Franklin County Sheriff’s Office, for helping me sound like I know something about law enforcement in Apalach.
To the real Wayne Stinnett, friend, mentor, and author of the bestselling Jesse McDermitt series, set in the Florida Keys, your belief in me has meant more than you know.
I could not have published this book without the help of three other fabulous professionals. Tammi Labrecque, of larksandkatydids.com, your editing prowess was invaluable. Power to the Oxford comma. Shayne Rutherford, of darkmoongraphics.com, thank you for creating four beautiful book covers from thin air. Finally, Colleen Sheehan, of wdrbookdesign.com—once again, you have made plain words on a white background look like works of art. You amaze me, my friend.
Finally, I would have never started writing this series if not for the wonderful support of all the folks in the Author’s Corner. Thank you, every one of you.
T
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I’d like to extend a special thank you to so many of you who pre-ordered your copy of What Washes Up.
You let me know after reading Low Tide that you wanted to keep reading this series almost as much as I want to keep writing it. I was overwhelmed by the number of pre-orders, and it meant a great deal to me that you wanted to spend more time with these characters. It’s because of you that I knew that Maggie, Wyatt and Boudreaux had an audience.
As always, your honest review would be deeply appreciated.
If you could take a moment to share your experience with What Washes Up, I would be thrilled.
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