Against The Tide

“I admired Rory a lot,” Garret said solemnly as they bumped along the rutted sandy road shared by a handful of neighbors. “I looked up to him like a father figure.”

“Your parents were divorced, weren’t they?” As soon as she said this, she regretted it. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “It’s none of my business. But you know how nosy reporters can be.”

“It’s okay. And it’s true, my parents did divorce. A messy divorce, too. Fortunately, I had my grandparents and the marina to fill the void after my parents went their separate ways.”

“It still must’ve been hard.” She sighed. “My mom and dad divorced, too.”

“According to Rory, they handled theirs in a fairly civilized way.”

“Right.” She wasn’t so sure about that.

“Anyway, your dad was a good friend to me.” Garret’s voice was laced in sadness.

Megan looked out the window, seeing the dark glistening strip of ocean out past the few houses that lined this portion of the bluff. “I wish I’d taken more time off work—to come down here to visit more. I’m afraid I’ve let my career take over my life.”

“Your dad was proud of you, Megan. He loved that you were working for a big Seattle paper. I know he missed you, but he did understand.”

“I know.” She sighed. “He always encouraged me to chase my dreams.”

“And did you find them?”

She shrugged. “I thought so at first. To be honest, I’m not so sure now. It gets to feeling like a rat race out there. Not like life here in Cape Perpetua.” Talk about an understatement.

Garret was turning into the sandy driveway now. It was hard to see the house in the darkness, but something about this scene didn’t feel quite right. Probably the fact that her dad was missing from the picture. It was strange to see the house so dark. No glowing windows, no porch light, nothing. The house looked sad and lonely, as if it knew its owner was not coming home.

“Thanks for the ride,” she told Garret as he stopped the SUV. She suddenly felt glum about parting ways with him. He’d been such a comfort tonight and it felt like they’d actually started to get acquainted. But now it was over.

“You’re welcome. But don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily.” He was already getting out of the SUV. He hurried around, removing her baggage from the back, then joining her as she got out. “Let’s make sure everything is okay here first.”

“It, uh, looks okay to me.” She tried to sound more confident than she felt. “No sign of any vehicles around.” As they walked up to the house, she could hear the comforting rumble of the ocean. Everything about this scene felt so familiar—and yet it wasn’t. Despite spending most of her childhood and adolescence here, she had been down only a few times over the past ten years. “I’m sure everything’s just fine here.” Why wouldn’t it be?

“Well, I want to be sure.” Still carrying her bags, he accompanied her up the path of old bricks. She’d helped Dad put these bricks into place when she was twelve. “I don’t really like the idea of leaving you out here by yourself without a car, Megan.”

“Dad has good neighbors.” She pointed north. “I can probably get Mrs. Martin to give me a ride into town in the morning. Then I’ll get my tires replaced.” As they came up to the little house, she felt a chill run through her. Maybe it was the sea air or the damp fog that she knew was rolling in since she could hear the foghorn blowing over by the jetty. Or maybe it was something else. Like her frazzled nerves.

She had her house key ready. Just like the newspaper office key, she had held on to this one, too. Not so much as a memento, but because her dad always wanted her to feel like she could show up at any time. Even if he was gone on a week-long fishing trip in Mexico. It was similar to a security blanket. A reminder that this was home. Except with Dad gone, she wasn’t so sure. Would she be able to feel at home anymore?

“I’ll get some lights on.” She stepped into the house. “And I need to give you back your jacket, too.” As she reached for the entryway light switch, she paused to listen. “Did you hear something?” she whispered to Garret.

He set her bags down in the entryway, holding his forefinger to his lips. They both froze in place, listening intently. But now she heard nothing but the swooshing sound of the waves and the ticking of the clock on the mantel.

“Must’ve been my imagination,” she said quietly as she turned on the entryway light. She looked around the living room, feeling relieved that everything was peacefully in place, from the corny nautical decor that Dad had always loved, to the stone fireplace that probably still smoked on a windy day. She looked wistfully at his worn leather recliner. A new military novel lay on the side table with Dad’s reading glasses next to it. Everything was so much the same that she almost expected Dad to come strolling out of the kitchen with a mug of coffee in his hand and a warm grin on his face.

“All’s well,” she told Garret as she hung her purse on the hall tree next to the still-open front door.

“Seems to be.” He looked around in satisfaction. “So I’ll bid you good—”

Just then they heard a loud crash from the kitchen.

“Let’s get out of here.” Garret shoved her toward the door and without questioning him, she exploded out of the house and sprinted back toward his SUV. Garret was right beside her. He opened the passenger-side door for her then ran around to the driver’s side. She insisted they get away from here, but Garret didn’t start the truck.

“Not yet.” He reached beneath the seat to pull out a black hard case then pushed some buttons and removed a revolver.

She felt a jolt of panic. “What’s that for?”

“Protection and defense.” He looked at the house. “Call the cops and stay put. In fact, stay down. Out of sight. And lock the doors.” Before she could respond, he was dashing back into the house.

Despite her concerns, she did as he said, hunkering down as she reached around on the floor for her purse and her phone. Then she remembered her purse was hanging on the hall tree by the door, with her phone inside it. She glanced around the darkness of the yard, trying to see what was happening and wishing she’d thought to turn on the porch light.

What if Garret needed help? Despite his instructions to stay put, she quietly opened the door and then, crouching low next to the vehicle, she took in a deep breath. Then she started to sprint toward the house. But halfway there she heard it—the sound of several gunshots in quick sequence.

Had Garret shot someone? Or...? Please, no, God! Please don’t let that be Garret on the wrong side of the gun!

FIVE

Garret knew it was legal to shoot an intruder during a burglary, but killing this man—no matter what sort of person he might be—was not Garret’s goal. But when the intruder jumped him from behind, it was hard to think rationally. The two of them wrestled in the kitchen, tumbled out onto the porch and down the back steps, but when the intruder got away, Garret finally got the chance to take a shot. He aimed below the waist, hoping to get the running man in a leg. But judging by the way the guy kept running, Garret missed.

Garret didn’t waste a moment as he took off after him. But in the darkness of the side yard, he lost him in the shadows. Then, as Garret passed by an overgrown hedge, someone jumped him from behind. Once again, they rolled and fought. Garret just about had the guy pinned when he heard the cling of something metallic. Even in the dark, he could see the glint of a switchblade coming toward him.

As he dodged the knife, Garret raised his revolver high, hoping to knock the thug in the head with it, but suddenly someone else jumped into the fray. Garret’s revolver was knocked from his hand as he was thrown into the hedge. Just like that, his two assailants disappeared.

Garret scrambled to recover his gun then took off toward the pair who were running toward the road. “Stop or I’ll shoot!” he yelled as he sprinted at top speed. He pointed his gun toward them, but knew his chance of hitting either of them in the darkness was slim. Even so, he could not let them escape. Somehow he knew they were connected to Megan’s earlier encounter at the newspaper office. And no matter what, he’d get to the bottom of it.

* * *

With a pounding heart, Megan ran into the house and grabbed her purse and phone. But the house was silent. Knowing it was risky, she called out for Garret. Hearing no response, and worried the intruder might still be inside, she scurried up the stairs, dialing 911 as she went. She hit Send as she went into her childhood bedroom and locked the door.

As the phone rang, she hurried to the window and peered out into the front yard. Where was Garret? Was he okay? As soon as the dispatcher answered, Megan poured out her whereabouts, their dilemma and her concern over the gunshots. “I need to go to Garret,” she told the woman. “He might need me.”

The dispatcher continued to insist that Megan remain upstairs, asking more questions about the layout of the house.

“I really should go help Garret.” Megan felt a lump in her throat as she imagined him wounded and in need of assistance—or worse.

“Help is on the way. But if there are armed men out there, you should wait for the police to arrive.”

“But it’s possible Garret is hurt and—”

“They’ll be there soon.” The dispatcher kept Megan on the line, speaking calmly and soothingly as she asked more questions.

“I’m so worried that Garret needs—”

“Listen! You need to stay where you are until law enforcement arrives,” the dispatcher said with authority.

Megan opened the bedroom window, trying to listen for anyone outside. “I hear sirens,” she exclaimed.

“It won’t be long.”

“Can I go downstairs now?” Megan pleaded.

“Wait until the officers give you the all-clear,” the woman said firmly. “Stay put. Someone will come directly to you. They know where you are.”

Megan watched as a small convoy of vehicles with flashing lights pulled in. She could see that at least one was an EMT and wondered if perhaps Garret had called, as well, asking for medical help. Clinging to the windowsill, she prayed silently for his safety. Even though she’d only known him for a few hours—it felt like much more—or perhaps it was simply that she wanted it to be much more. Garret was special. She knew it deep within her. And it wasn’t just because he’d been friends with her dad. She knew this was something more—and she couldn’t bear to lose him.

As the vehicles parked in front, she could see some of the officers getting out, using their vehicles as a shield, positioning themselves as if to carry out a plan. And then, with firearms drawn and wearing bulletproof vests, several officers cautiously but quickly approached the house.

Megan was almost afraid to breathe as she heard the police entering downstairs. Their footsteps rumbled through the wood floors of the old house and they shouted loudly as doors were opened. And then she heard footsteps on the stairs and someone pounding on her door. “Police!” a female’s voice shouted. “Come out with your hands up.”

Although she was surprised to be treated like a criminal, Megan knew this was simply routine. And unlocking the door, she held up her hands and stepped out. “I’m Megan McCallister,” she said. “I called 911.”

“Are you okay?” the uniformed female officer asked, as another officer pushed past them, checking the room to see if anyone else was there.

“Yes.” Megan nodded tearfully. “Is Garret okay?”

“I don’t know.” The officer nodded toward the stairs. “Let’s get you out of here and into a cruiser.”

Before long, Megan and the female cop were in the backseat of a cruiser, and Megan was answering her questions. As best she could, anyway. Mostly she felt like she was in the dark. “I honestly don’t know what happened,” she said for the second time. “We heard someone in the house. I’d already been attacked in the newspaper office. So we were sort of on edge. We ran back to the car. Then Garret got out a gun. He went back inside. Shortly after that, I heard the two or three shots.”

The questions continued and her nerves ratcheted up until finally, after about half an hour, Megan saw Garret by the front porch. “He’s all right!” she shouted. Before the officer could stop her, Megan jumped out of the patrol car and raced toward him.

“You’re okay,” she exclaimed. “I heard the shots and I was so worried.”

He hugged her, holding her longer than was probably necessary, yet she made no move to pull away. “I was worried about you, too,” he said tenderly, finally releasing her from the embrace.

“What happened?” She looked into his eyes, feeling that they seemed strangely familiar—as a surprisingly warm rush ran through her.

Garret explained about his wrestling matches with one and then another man. “I chased them for a couple of miles down the beach road.”

“So they got away?”

“There was a car with the engine running, waiting for them on Rawlins Road. A dark sedan. Not sure what model or year or anything. Anyway, they got in and took off like a shot. And that was that.”

The police came over, asking both of them several more questions and finally allowing them to leave with the promise to remain in touch regarding their whereabouts. Megan could tell that the officers assumed that Garret had simply prevented a burglary, pointing out that it wasn’t uncommon for homes to be broken into along this stretch of bluff.

“You don’t think this is related to the break-in at the newspaper?” Garret asked.

“Hard to say.” The policeman was getting a call on his phone now and, tipping his head, he stepped away.

Garret frowned as he walked her over to his SUV. “Guess we might as well get out of here. Can’t imagine you’d want to stay by yourself here tonight.”

“Not so much.” Megan pondered over what she’d just heard, trying to put the pieces together. “Do you think it was the same guy—the one from the newspaper office?”

“This guy was dressed in dark clothes. Same as the one at the newspaper office. But, like I said, I barely glimpsed that guy’s face. But it might’ve been him. Right height and build and clothes.”

“Why is this happening?” she asked with tightly clenched fists. “What is going on? What does all this mean?”

He ran his hand through his damp hair, making it curl even more. “I, uh, I have a theory.”

“Really?”

“I told the police about it. Not sure they took me seriously, though.”

“I still want to hear it.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “How about if I get your bags from the house first?”

“Thanks.”

After he loaded her things into the back of the SUV, he explained what was going on with the police inside the house. “Where am I taking you?” he asked as he backed out, maneuvering past the emergency vehicles.

“Oh, yeah, I better call a hotel.” She pulled out her phone, doing a quick search for the largest hotel in town. But to her dismay, the desk clerk informed her they had no vacancies. “Really?” Megan asked. “You have nothing?”

“It’s Memorial Day weekend,” the clerk said in a tired voice. “And the weather’s pretty nice. From what I hear everyone is full up in town.”

“Oh.” Megan thanked her, hung up and then told Garret.

“Yeah, I was worried about that, too,” he said. “Even my cabins are full. And I had to turn folks away. But I do have a couple of vacant cabins that I’m still working on. I didn’t book them out because I haven’t had time to finish them yet. You could sort of camp there for the night...if you don’t mind roughing it some.”

“Oh...” Megan imagined a dirty old fishing cabin with a lumpy mattress, but was so tired she didn’t even care.

“Come to think of it, Cabin A is nearly finished.”

She looked at the clock, surprised to see that it was well after midnight now. “I’m so exhausted, I don’t care if the place is a mess, Garret. As long as it’s safe.” She looked over at him. “Do you think it’s safe there? At the marina?”

“Don’t know why it wouldn’t be.”

She sighed. “Yeah, but I don’t know why my dad’s house wasn’t safe, either.”

“Good point.” He shook his head. “But I’m sure you’ll be safe at the marina. The cabin you’ll have is right next to mine and I’m a pretty light sleeper. Not only that, but I’ll let you have Rocky, too.”

“Rocky?”

“My Doberman.”

“A guard dog?”

“Well, he looks like a guard dog and acts like a guard dog. But he’s actually quite harmless. More of an alarm than an attack dog.” He glanced at her. “Do you like dogs?”

“Absolutely. And if you honestly don’t mind sharing him, I’d love to have Rocky stay with me tonight. That would be reassuring.”

“Great.”

As Garret drove them toward town, Megan tried to wrap her head around all that had happened since arriving at Cape Perpetua just a few hours ago. It was mind-boggling, and frightening and unreal.

Instead of taking the river road directly to the marina, Garret turned into town. “I’m doing a little detour,” he explained. “Just in case anyone wanted to follow us. Although I haven’t really noticed any suspicious cars.”

She looked all around, relieved to see that the town was pretty deserted. She didn’t see a single set of headlights anywhere. Garret seemed satisfied, too, and, taking a backstreet and a couple more turns, they were soon at the marina.

“Here we are,” Garret announced as he parked next to the boxy building that housed the old store where she and Dad used to buy treats for their fishing trips. “Welcome to Larsson’s Marina.” He cautiously looked all around as he helped her out. “I’ll get your bags.”

Before long, he was opening the door of one of the small cabins alongside the river. “Like I said, it’s still a little rough.” He set her bags inside the door. “I’ll grab you some bedding and towels and stuff. But I think you’ll be okay for one night.”

She nodded as she looked around the small space. “This will be fine,” she assured him. “I really appreciate it.”

“I’ll be right back.”

After he left she examined the cabin more carefully. With new pine floors and pine-paneled walls, the room smelled clean and fresh. The mattress on the queen-size bed was brand-new, too, still wrapped in factory plastic. The tiny bathroom, although missing a door and a coat of paint, had new fixtures, including a large mirror. But she didn’t recognize the stranger looking back at her. The pale skin, strained features, dark circles beneath her hazel eyes and that messy long hair—who was that poor woman, anyway? Megan simply turned away.

As she unzipped one of her bags, she noticed that the narrow closet, also missing its door, had no rod or hangers. Well, Garret hadn’t promised it’d be the Ritz. She was just removing a T-shirt to sleep in when a knock on the front door made her jump.

“It’s just me,” Garret said quietly.

She unlocked the door, opening it to let him enter. His arms were full of bedding and towels, and behind him came a big sleek brown dog, eager to sniff her.

“You must be Rocky,” she said, allowing him to smell the back of her hand. “My new roommate.”

“Yeah, I invited Rocky to come check you out.” Garret dumped the pile onto the mattress. “If you guys like each other, I’ll go get his bed.”

She knelt down to scratch him behind the ears, and his tail wagged happily. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” She already felt safer, just having him here.

“Sorry I don’t have a curtain up yet.” Garret pointed to the bare window. “But I brought some extra towels.” He handed her a couple of white towels. “Just hang them over the rod for now.”

“Thanks.” She went over to hang and adjust her terry curtains. Rocky followed her, watching with canine interest.

“I’ll be right back with Rocky’s bed.”

She put some things away and soon Garret returned with a big dog bed, shoving it into the corner by the door. “Sorry not to have the place in better shape, but—”

“I think this is a lovely little cabin,” she assured him. “And I’m happy to make myself at home. Thank you.”

He grinned. “Before I go, how about if we exchange phone numbers? Just in case.” He pulled out a business card, handing it to her. Then she went to her purse and did the same.

“Thanks, Garret,” she said in a tired voice. “For everything.”

“Sleep well,” he told her. “Remember I’m next door.” He pointed to his right.

She thanked him again and after he left, bolted the door. Then, just to be sure, she checked the window, making certain it was locked, as well. Finally, although she felt certain it would be a sleepless night, she started to make her bed. Rocky watched for a while as she peeled off the plastic and put on the sheets, but he soon grew bored and decided to make himself comfortable on his own bed.

It was after one by the time she finally got settled and pulled on her T-shirt and flannel pants then tumbled into bed. Despite her concerns about sleeping, she realized she was too exhausted to fight it.

* * *

Megan woke with a start to a loud, unfamiliar sound. A dog barking? Where was she? She stumbled out of bed, remembering that she was in Cape Perpetua, in the marina cabin—and the dog belonged to Garret. “Rocky,” she said urgently. “What is it?”

The dog continued to bark aggressively. In the semi-darkness she could see Rocky’s shadowy silhouette in front of the door—he was definitely on high alert about something outside.

“What’s out there?” she whispered as she cowered behind him. She didn’t want to discourage him from barking—especially if there was someone dangerous outside her door. But she also remembered what Garret had said. He was a better alarm than protector. She hurried back to the bed, feeling all over for where she’d left her purse and phone. Why wasn’t it here? Suddenly, she heard a pounding on the wooden door, which made Rocky bark even louder. Megan’s heart raced as she got down on the wooden floor, grasping all around for her purse and phone. Where was it? And who was at the door? And would this madness ever end?

SIX

“Megan?” Garret yelled to be heard over Rocky’s loud, incessant barking—the same barking that had woken him just minutes earlier. “Are you okay?” When she didn’t answer, he started to pound harder on her door, wishing he’d thought to grab his set of master keys. “Megan!” he yelled again, this time at the top of his lungs. “Are you okay?”

“Garret?” she cried.

“Yes, it’s me,” he confirmed. “Open the door.”

The door cracked open and Megan stuck her head out just as Garret commanded Rocky to be quiet. Fortunately, the dog obeyed. “What’s going on?” he asked Megan.

“I don’t know,” she answered in a shaky voice. “I was sound asleep and then he started to bark.”

Garret looked over his shoulder toward the marina, where the dark sky was just turning gray along the eastern horizon. “He must’ve heard something out here. But you’re okay?”

She nodded with a troubled expression.

He looked out over the river now, seeing there was a slight wake rocking the marina’s dock. Since it was nearly five, it wasn’t too early for a crabbing or fishing boat to be heading out to sea. Unless it was something else.

“Go back to bed,” he told her. “I’ll go sniff around.”

“Do you want to take Rocky with you?” she offered. “For help?”

He forced a smile. “No. You better keep him here with you. And make sure you lock the door.” He waited as she closed and locked it then headed over to the dock to investigate. He scanned up and down the river, but didn’t see any running lights, something a legitimate fishing boat would use before sunrise, but there was definitely a wake from a boat passing by. He peered out over the water, just starting to reflect light from the predawn sky. And suddenly, he saw it, the dark outline of a boat—probably a thirty-footer—heading out toward the ocean. But with no lights.

Garret was tempted to hop in his Kingfisher and take off after them. The twenty-footer had an outboard engine that could catch most anything out there. But then what? Inform the boaters that their running lights weren’t on? And what if they really were criminals and it turned dangerous? Was he ready for that?