Chapter Eighteen
Michelle pulled on her shoes and glanced at the clock. It was almost noon.
She’d woken around nine that morning to find Utah gone. The only evidence of his existence lay in the tenderness between her thighs.
They’d made love most of the night, a bittersweet joining of two souls not yet ready to say goodbye.
Her cell phone rang from its perch on the coffee table. She snatched it up and pressed the Send button. “Hello?”
“Michelle, it’s Kris. Have you seen the news this morning?”
A strange foreboding came over Michelle. She plucked up the remote control and switched on the television. “No. What am I looking for?”
“April has been found,” Kris stated in a hushed tone.
Michelle assumed Kristin didn’t want to be overheard. “Is she all right? Where’s she been?”
A brief pause ensued. “No, she isn’t all right. Apparently, she’s been comatose since she managed to wander up to the Hadley place off Ramsey Branch Road.”
“In Freeport?” Michelle responded in a wooden tone, her mind racing with unanswered questions. “And she didn’t say anything?”
Kristin quickly explained. “From what I’ve gathered, she’d been badly beaten, assaulted, and shot. The FBI has taken lead on the investigation.”
Michelle muted the television. “Wait, what?”
“Yeah. Apparently, April has the same branding marks on her body that Jane Doe had on hers when she washed up in the Choctawhatchee Bay.”
Michelle stood and meandered over to the window. She flicked her fingers between the blinds, her gaze scanning the street beyond. “Jesus, Kris. What’s April’s prognosis? Is she going to survive?”
“I don’t know, Michelle. And after everything she’s been through…” Kristin’s voice trailed off.
Understanding exactly where Kristin’s thoughts lay, Michelle released the blinds and headed toward the door. “Thanks for letting me know about April.”
“No problem,” Kris returned, ending the call.
Michelle slowed her steps about halfway across the living room, turning instead toward the kitchen. She double-checked the locks on the back door, then went through the house, securing the window latches, and used her key to engage the deadbolt on the front door on her way out.
Her skin began to crawl with the feeling of being watched. She hurried to her car, slid behind the wheel, and started the engine.
The doors automatically locked as she put it in reverse and backed out of the drive. She needed to talk with her mother about Utah. Lani would be the only one to understand.
Five minutes later, Michelle found herself on 331 South, en route to Freeport. She’d bypassed her parents’ a few miles back, deciding instead to look for Utah.
Michelle told herself that she only wanted to see him to tell him about April. But she knew that to be a lie the moment it entered her mind.
Entering Freeport, she turned on to Highway 20 and headed toward the shipyard—the one place besides being with Michelle that Utah admitted brought him peace. With any luck, she would find him there. Or at the very least, feel his presence.
The shipyard was bustling with activity when Michelle pulled over onto the grass and got out.
She made her way down the uneven incline, her gaze sweeping the area for signs of her ghost. What am I expecting to find, Utah wearing a sheet and rattling some chains?
Michelle could practically feel dozens of eyes touching on her, and she suddenly felt foolish. It had been a mistake to go in search of Utah. For all she knew, he could be long gone by now.
She spun back toward her car, keeping her gaze trained on the path in front of her, when something in her peripheral caught her attention.
A man lay facedown beneath a massive cypress tree, wearing dark blue pants and black boots.
Firefighter boots, Michelle suddenly realized, veering off in the man’s direction. Utah’s boots.
Ignoring the strange looks she could feel boring into her back, she hurried over to the cypress tree and dropped to her knees.
“Utah?” she breathed, touching his handsome face. “Can you hear me?”
His eyes fluttered open, and he blinked a few times as if clearing his vision. “Michelle?”
“Yes. Are you okay?”
“I am now.” A small smile touched his lips, and he rolled to his back. “How did you know I would be here?”
Michelle glanced back to find that all work had come to a halt and nearly every man at the shipyard stared at her in wide-eyed wonderment. No doubt they thought her daft, kneeling under a tree talking to herself.
She brought her attention back to Utah. He was so handsome, it hurt to look at him. “You told me about this place. You said it was the only place you could find any peace.”
“Not the only place,” he admitted in a low voice while moving to a sitting position. “I didn’t think I would see you again.”
Michelle couldn’t look away from his hazel eyes. “Yeah. I’m aware that it’s a bad idea for me to be here, but I never claimed to be smart.”
Utah smiled, a pained look reflecting in his eyes. “I think you’re plenty smart.”
Unable to hide her relief at seeing him again, Michelle offered her hand. “Ride with me? We have an audience.”
“You mean you have an audience,” Utah teased, pushing to his feet without her help.
Michelle glanced back at the multitudes of people watching her talk to herself. “I’ll never be able to show my face in Bar 83 again.”
The sound of Utah’s laughter rolled through her to settle inside her heart.
She cleared her throat and trudged her way back up the hill.
Neither of them spoke until they were inside her car, safely away from prying eyes.
Michelle started the engine, took a right, and drove past the park to the boat launch. She left the car running so the air conditioner could do its thing.
Utah reached across the seat and laid his hand over hers, sending nerves scattering through her stomach.
“They found April,” Michelle began, only to pause at the look on Utah’s face.
“I know.”