Honeymoon

Chapter 100

THAT BURNED WILD RICE on the stove was like potpourri compared with the smelling salts.

When I jerked my head and opened my eyes, I was staring up from the ground at two local cops. The older one was applying a makeshift pressure bandage to my shoulder while the younger one—twenty-two, if a day—gazed down at me in disbelief. I didn’t have to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking.

What the hell happened to you, buddy?

But I had my own question first. “Did you get her?” I asked with a woozy drawl.

“No,” said the older cop. “Though we’re not exactly sure who we’re looking for. The only thing we have is a name. As far as what she looks like and what she’s driving, we don’t know a thing.”

Slowly I told them. A full description of Nora, the red Benz convertible, her address in Briarcliff Manor. Or at least Connor Brown’s. Regardless, it was highly unlikely she was headed back there. She wouldn’t dare, would she?

The younger cop got on his radio and relayed the information. He also checked on the ambulance, my ambulance.

“They should’ve been here by now,” he said.

“I’ve never been a high priority,” I quipped.

Meanwhile, his partner finished applying the bandage. “There, that should hold until the paramedics.”

I thanked him. I thanked them both. Suddenly it dawned on me that they looked like father and son. I asked, and sure enough, they were. Officers Will and Mitch Cravens, respectively. If there was a better example of the halcyon days of life in a small town, I’d yet to see it.

I started to get up.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I heard in unison. All I had to do was lie there and relax, they said.

“I need my phone.”

“Where is it?” asked Mitch Cravens. “I’ll get it.”

“It’s somewhere in the bathroom. You need to turn off the stove as well,” I said.

Mitch nodded at his father. “I’ll be right back.”

As he headed inside I remembered Nora telling me she owned the cabin, that it was left to her by a former client. “Hey, Will, there’s a chance you even know Nora,” I said. “This is her cabin. It was given to her by a former client who passed away.”

“Is that what she told you?”

The way he asked, I knew what was coming next.

“Did she mention the name of her supposed client?” he asked.

“No. She did have the keys, though.”

Will shook his head. “This place belongs to a guy named Dave Hale. While he may or may not have been a client of hers, I assure you he’s very much alive.”

“Is he rich by any chance?”

He shrugged. “I assume so. I’ve only met him a couple of times. He lives in Manhattan. Why? Do you think he’s in danger?”

“Prior to tonight, probably,” I said. “I think he’s safe now.”

Mitch returned from inside the cabin, my phone in hand. “Found it.”

I took it and flipped it open. I was about to dial Susan when it rang. She beat me to it.

“Hello?”

“You fucked with the wrong girl,” came her voice. “You messed up so badly, O’Hara.”

I figured wrong.

She didn’t sound hysterical. Instead, she was completely calm. Too calm. And for the first time, I was afraid of Nora Sinclair.

“Now I’m going to hurt you where you live, O’Hara… for real,” she said. “Can you say Riverside?”

Click.

The phone dropped from my hand. I pulled myself up on wobbly legs. The two cops went to grab me.

“What is it?” asked the son, Mitch.

“My family,” I said. “She’s going after my family.”