Remi hesitated. “If it wasn’t for my family . . .”
“You don’t need to apologize to me, Remi. Your wife is pregnant, for goodness’ sake. You’re not going to do any good staying. Get yourself to safety, and hopefully I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
Still Remi didn’t move. “You should come too. I can take you.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll go and get Warren and I’ll be right behind you. Why do you think I have this?” she said, pointing to the bags, even though she had no intention of leaving the island. “Go,” she added, surprised when Remi gave her a quick hug goodbye for the second time in as many days.
“Stay safe,” he said.
“You too, Remi,” said Laurie, tensing her legs to remain balanced as she waited for Remi to leave.
The evacuation line out of the city had eased since yesterday. The numbers were still near a record high, but many had already escaped. Laurie knew from the string of emails she’d been receiving over the last twenty-four hours that at some point soon the drivers of those vehicles would need to make a choice. Either risk getting caught on the highway or return to the island to ride out the storm.
Laurie had driven for a few minutes more when suddenly her phone reception came back to life. She pulled over and called Lieutenant Filmore. As they discussed the most urgent of the open cases, Laurie thought how this would be the perfect time to be a criminal on the island. She told Filmore about last night’s visit to Frank’s. Thankfully he agreed that she had taken the only feasible course of action under the circumstances.
“I’ll check in on him if I’m able,” she said.
“He’s made his bed, he can lie in it,” said Filmore. “Your priority is to keep safe. Don’t wait until the last minute to get to the shelter.”
“About that, I was hoping to bring in Warren and David to the shelter at the high school. Is that OK?”
“I thought they’d be long gone.”
“It’s Warren we’re talking about.”
“Good point. Of course they can go, but ideally you all need to be there before midday.”
“Lieutenant,” said Laurie, hanging up before heading out to Warren’s.
Laurie was going against the traffic as she headed toward Warren’s house. The water had breached the seawall, and she feared it wouldn’t be long before parts of the road were unpassable. Driving inland off the Termini-San Luis Pass Road, it was like heading into a ghost town. All the windows on the stilted beach houses were boarded, the garage doors sealed shut. Only a few vehicles remained in the area, one of which was the truck parked outside Warren’s house. Despite which, the house felt abandoned as she climbed the steps to the front door, and Laurie was half surprised when David opened it.
“I’ve got you two places at the high school shelter,” she said, not waiting for a response before stepping through the doors.
Inside, it was as if Warren had been preparing for the end of the world. The sitting room was stacked high with provisions, and the gun cupboard was unlocked, Warren busy cleaning an AR-15.
“You going to war, Warren?”
“Can’t be too careful,” he said.
Laurie repeated what she’d told David, but Warren didn’t budge. “Ike never got me,” he said. “This one won’t either.”
“This could be twice as bad as Ike,” she said, sitting down next to him, the springs of the sofa soft and yielding.
“We’re in no danger here. Too far inland.”
Laurie couldn’t hide her incredulousness. “Your house isn’t hurricane-proof, Warren. You’re surrounded by water, for heaven’s sake.”
“Won’t reach this high,” said Warren, his focus on his gun.
“David, will you talk some sense into your grandad?”
David lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Can be no harm in going to the high school,” he said, with little conviction.
“That place is little better than here. We’d be cramped up. Horrible conditions. No, I ain’t going anywhere.”
“Coffee?” said David, nodding toward the kitchen.
Laurie sighed and eased herself up. “This is not over, old man,” she said, retreating to the kitchen and leaving Warren with his guns.
“I’ve been trying to talk him out of this all night,” said David, handing her a coffee.
It felt reckless to be sitting around drinking coffee as if nothing momentous was going on outside. “Your whole family is stubborn as hell,” said Laurie, regretting the words the second they left her mouth.
“And what does that mean? Frank staying put too?”
“Tried to talk him out of it. If this damn hurricane hits, I don’t think he’ll survive.” Laurie studied her husband’s reaction to this, searching, but not finding, a hint of concern for his father.
“You not going to arrest him?”
Maybe he was concerned and the question was his way of expressing it. Or maybe she was reaching again for something that wasn’t there.
“I would if I could. We’re waiting on forensics results, but they’ll almost certainly be delayed.”
“You think he killed that girl?”
“I don’t honestly know. Do you?”
David drank his coffee as if she hadn’t asked the question. Laurie knew it was the wrong time, but she couldn’t hold back any longer. Who knew what today would bring? It may well be nothing, but if she didn’t ask him now, then maybe she would never find out. “I saw you with Rebecca Whitehead,” she said, the relief from finally saying the words dizzying.
David froze, except for his eyes darting up to her. “What do you mean, you saw us?”
“What do you think I mean, David? What do you need to tell me?”
David’s face was blank, his mouth wide open like he was trying to catch flies. He’d been hard to read those months after Milly died. He’d broken down now and then, but most of the time he’d remained composed, unflappable even. “I don’t have anything to tell, Laurie. Is this why you’ve been off with me these last few months?”
“Months?” said Laurie. “I only saw you the other week. At the coffee house over in the Strand.”
“Is that so? Well, either way, you’ve been off these last few months.”
“So, you’ve been fucking her all that time?” Laurie felt her heart beating against her rib cage. She couldn’t quite believe it had come to this, but there was no turning back.
She couldn’t tell if David was angry or disappointed as he took another sip of coffee.
“I haven’t been fucking anyone,” he said.
“Well, we sure as hell haven’t.”
David moved toward her, his hand held out tentatively. Laurie shrugged it away as if it were posing her some threat. He frowned and took a step back. “I started going to that group,” he said.
Laurie felt her patience fading. She hated not being in control, but couldn’t bring herself back. “Group? What group?”
“The parents’ group,” said David softly. “The baby loss group. I told you about it, but you weren’t interested.”