The weight of making the right decision lifted from her chest. The emptiness left behind weighed even more. “I understand.”
…
For a moment, Mitch had almost let himself forget his place in the world. Or, at least the place he’d worked hard to position himself. This house was everything he could hope for. A shame he didn’t belong there.
He jerked to the left at the roar of a drone breaking the air. Stepped closer to Liz. Reached for his gun. Quick as lightning, she pointed to the right as a smaller drone entered the picture. The first one buzzed the second one. Both zoomed left, low across the water.
“Get inside, Liz. Get inside.”
Turning, she followed the path of the drones with her stare. Suddenly she grabbed his arm and motioned toward the dunes. Two kids stood glued to their spots, their hands swooping back and forth in front of them as they navigated their remotes. Playing a high-flying game of tag.
“Guess we’re just a little paranoid,” she said.
“You think?” He tucked his gun away.
She laughed then turned back to gaze at the Gulf. “I wish I could stand here forever.”
“Yeah. Me too.” For once, he meant exactly what he’d said.
Children’s laughter caught his attention, and he looked up the beach. A glimmer of light from a fire pit illuminated a young family. The dad was chasing two children, twirling them in the air each time he caught one. Loud giggles and screams emphasized their happy game. Mom stayed by the fire, pulling at the sides of a bag, probably marshmallows. Finally, she motioned to the runners, waved a box and something else above her head. The children raced in her direction, but Dad beat them there, acting as if he were going to take all the treats, while Mom tried to block him. She was soon overcome by her husband’s kisses.
“They’re making s’mores,” Liz said. “Before my mother died, every fall she’d insist my dad make a fire and we roast hot dogs. Later that night, we’d toast marshmallows to make s’mores. I could eat a million of them.”
“Sounds like you hadsomehappy times.”
“Come to think of it, we had a lot of happy times. How about you? Do you like s’mores?”
“Nope.”
She gently shoved his bicep. “How can anyone not like graham crackers and chocolate and marshmallows? That’s un-American.”
How could he tell her that his family had been lucky if there was a box of saltine crackers in the house? Saltines went with soup and lunch meat and a can of ravioli. Even peeling the plastic wrapper off a slice of cheese seemed better if there were saltines in the house.
He pushed her gently in return. “Hey, I’m all about American food, but I’d rather it be Buffalo wings and beer.”
“I like that, too.”
“Good. We’ll find a waterfront dive tomorrow and have some. For now, we need to lock up and get some rest.” He tucked his arm around her shoulder, steering her inside the house. “Come on. I’ll give you the twenty-cent tour of the place.”
Children’s laughter sounded on the beach once again, but Mitch didn’t stop. Didn’t turn to look. He sure as hell didn’t belong in that world.
After a quick lesson on the double security system, including a special one to set for the decks, he guided her through the main floor’s expanded living room, dining room, and bath.
“There’s a media room at the rear of the house, but we can skip that if you want.” He’d do everything he could not to subject her to a dark, enclosed place.
“Maybe I could check it out with the lights on sometime.” She leaned against the kitchen island, fiddled with the faucets of the mini-sink, then slid her hand across the granite. “But I do love this kitchen.”
“I’ve been told these are top-of-the-line, stainless appliances including the gourmet chef’s stove, fridge, and freezer. I’m not much of a cook, so my favorite part is”—he pointed to the island—”the built-in microwave.”
“Plus, a wine cooler, and from what I can tell, a warming drawer.” She boosted herself onto one of the swivel stools at the island and spun around a couple of times. “Very swanky, Agent Granger. Very swanky.”
“Glad you like it.”
She glanced around the room. “So, do we have food? Drinks?”
They had everything she could possibly want, at least, there should be. He just didn’t know exactly where. “The fridge should be stocked with all your favorite foods. Even those flavored water sparkly things you drink.”
“You mean sparkling water?”
