Drift Away (Noah Braddock Mysteries) Read Free Page A

floor was concrete, a dirty, threadbare area rug hiding oil stains and grease marks. An empty workbench ran the length of one wall, a twin-sized cot pushed up against another. The small stash of clothing I’d accumulated was stacked neatly next to it. A small fridge and microwave stood next to the garage door, the opener having been disengaged. Stacks of boxes rested against the opposite wall, along with a small assortment of power tools. A shower and toilet were in the hallway that connected the garage to the house. The work sink was new and clean and I used it to wash the sand and beach from my face.
     
    It wasn’t my home. It was shelter.
     
    I didn’t have a home any longer, nor did I want one. I wasn’t even sure I needed one. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be in Fort Walton. I knew that at any moment, I could be gone. By my choice or someone else’s.
     
    And I wasn’t sure I cared.
     
    The cool water stung my skin as the grit and sweat fell away into the basin. I toweled off and walked back outside.
     
    I zig-zagged through the bushes and various piles of dirt, toward the back of the property. The lot backed to the bay and the water was deserted in the late afternoon heat. I trudged through the dead grass to the small strip of sand that buffeted the land from the water and sat down.
     
    “I miss you,” I said to Liz, staring out at the water.
     
    I’d been doing this every day since I’d arrived in Fort Walton. Pretty much every day since she’d been killed. There was a vacancy in my life that didn’t feel like it would ever leave. I knew she was gone, but it was hard to accept that.
     
    So I talked to her.
     
    “It’s hot,” I said out loud, picking at the brown grass. “Not like San Diego. You wouldn’t like it.”
     
    Liz hated the oppressive heat. Claimed she couldn’t live anywhere other than San Diego. Her hair wouldn’t accept it.
     
    “I got in a fight today.” I watched the water shimmer. “I’m sorry.”
     
    A flock of birds flew overhead and I glanced up, squinting into the sun.
     
    “If you were here, I wouldn’t have,” I said. “I would’ve walked away.”
     
    That was true. She would’ve touched my elbow, pulled me away, whispered in my ear. Diffused me. It was what she did. What she used to do. When she was alive.
     
    I no longer had that.
     
    “Haven’t heard from Carter in awhile,” I said. “I hope he’s okay.”
     
    I knew it was good that I hadn’t heard from him. It meant there was nothing I needed to know about.
     
    But it was also uncomfortable.
     
    Liz and Carter had been the two constants in my life for longer than I could remember. The two pillars I could lean on.
     
    And now there was no one.
     
    I tossed the dead blades of grass into the air and watched them blow away, fluttering in the breeze and landing in the water, riding the ripples out into the bay.
     
    “I hope you’re okay,” I said, the same words I said every day to her. “I’m sorry, Liz.” 
     
    And then the memories swarmed me, like always, moths to an inextinguishable flame.
     
    Making the wrong decision, worrying about my mother when I should’ve been worried about Liz. Rushing to her house, knowing what I was going to encounter. Finding her body, motionless, lifeless. Holding her, begging for her to come back. Knowing it was my father who had set it all in motion.
     
    Tears stung my eyes, blurred my vision, but they couldn’t wash the memories away. Time didn’t heal wounds, I’d discovered. Because the ache and pain I felt gnawed at me, grew bigger every day.
     
    “I love you,” I said, my voice a ragged whisper.
     
    I sat there for awhile longer, thinking about her, missing her.
     
    Like every other day.
     

SIX
                 
     
    The car idling in front of the house froze me.
     
    I hated living with paranoia, but it was my own doing. Everywhere I looked, everywhere I went, it felt like someone was looking at me. Like they knew me.