Her Sister's Shoes (27 page)

Sam’s day flew by. In between servicing the crowd that had begun to trickle in early, she processed a shipment of seafood and stocked the wine racks and produce bins. But the constant distractions didn’t stop Sam from worrying about Faith. Her panic accelerated as each hour passed with no word from Eli.

Sam was stocking the cases in preparation for an early start the next day when Eli stopped by just before closing time.

“I have good news and bad news,” he said.

The hopeful smile vanished from her face. “Give me the bad news first.”

“Faith has disappeared without a trace.”

She sighed. “I can’t say I’m surprised. When Faith makes up her mind to do something, she doesn’t mess around.”

“We’re not giving up though. I blasted her picture out to my statewide network, which includes all the homeless and women’s shelters. She won’t get far without someone recognizing her.”

Sam slid the last containers of lobster mac and cheese in the refrigerator case and closed the door. “I can hardly wait to hear the good news.”

“In my opinion, it’s great news.” Eli held up the latest edition of
Lowcountry Living
magazine.

Sam’s eyes zeroed in on the cover. “That’s us,” she said, pointing to the photo of Sam and Faith standing beneath the interlocking
S
s on the wall. “I can’t believe Janie gave us the cover.” She snatched the magazine away from him and carried it over to show her mother at checkout.

“Isn’t that something,” Lovie said, marveling at the picture.

Sam flipped through the magazine until she found the feature. The title read:
Oscar Sweeney’s Legacy Lives On.
Beaming with pride, she read the two-page article out loud to Eli, Lovie, and Jamie who appeared from the kitchen curious about all the commotion.

“Generations of vacationers have made Sweeney’s a tradition, their last stop on the way to the beach for their family vacation … The Sweeney family offers the largest variety of fresh seafood available in the state … Served by a knowledgeable staff with a heaping helping of Southern hospitality … Don’t forget to ask for one of Lovie’s top secret recipes …”

Sam handed the article to her mother and engulfed Eli in a huge hug. “You did this for us. Thank you. You may very well have saved Sweeney’s.”

Eli grinned. “Does this mean I’m forgiven for yesterday, for taking my eyes off the ball long enough for Curtis to score?”

Her face grew serious as she remembered her ruined furniture. “None of that is your fault, Eli. You said yourself, the force doesn’t have the manpower to offer personal bodyguards.”

“If you’re in the market for a bodyguard, I’d like to apply for the job,” Eli said, winking at Sam.

“Ha. I’d hire you right now, except I can’t afford to pay you.”

He smiled, a naughty twinkle reaching his eyes. “I can think of plenty of ways for you to pay.”

“Get a room, you two,” Jamie said, and everyone laughed.

“When does this issue hit the stands?” Lovie asked.

“Today,” Eli said. “Janie wanted to get it out well in advance of the holiday. She sends her apologies, by the way.”

“I’m indebted to her for the rest of my life. What could she possibly have to apologize for?”

“She promised you a chance to preview the article before it went to print. She was pressed for time in turning it around so quickly.”

“I hope she likes seafood, because she’s earned herself a lifetime supply of steamed crabs.”

Eli grinned. “Now that’s a thank you gift she won’t turn down.”

When the front door swung open, Sean and Bill entered, accompanied by a wave of humid air. Bill pulled Sam to the side while Sean answered questions about Cooper’s recovery. “I promised Jackie we’d stop by on our way into town. She is adamant you move over to the house until Curtis is in custody.”

“We were all set to move out to the farm this afternoon, but Faith has disappeared.” She filled Bill in on the events of the past twenty-four hours.

“Curtis is a psychopath on a rampage, Sam. Anybody associated with Faith is in danger. Which is all the more reason for you to move out to the landing. You have your mother and Jamie to think about. She’s not getting any younger, and his disability has its own challenges.”

“I’m well aware of my son’s disability,” Sam snapped.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. I’d come stay at the house myself, but I’m worried I would give Sean the wrong impression. I don’t want him to get his hopes up, thinking I might be moving back in for good.”

“That makes sense. I hope things are better between all of you.”

A slow smile spread across his lips. “Whatever you said to Jackie in the parking garage the other night really got to her.”

“I can’t take any credit for Jackie coming to her senses. The kind of accident Cooper experienced is the worst kind of reality check for a parent.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Sam watched Captain Mack enter the showroom and sidestep the others to get to her side. He kissed her cheek and shook Bill’s hand.

“This is a surprise,” Sam said. “If you’re peddling tuna, I’d be happy to take some off your hands.”

“I’m fresh out of tuna.” Mack glanced around, then said to Sam in a low voice, “Is there somewhere we can talk privately? It’s about Faith.”

Lovie, who was standing with her back to him, spun around on her heels. “Old man, if you know something about my daughter, we all want to hear it.”

Mack blushed. The whole town knew he had a soft spot for Lovie. “I’m not trying to hide anything, Lovie. Honest, I’m not. It’s just …”

“We’re all family here, except Eli who is the officer in charge of Faith’s case. It’s closing time anyway.” Sam dug her keys out of her pocket, locked the front door, and turned back to Mack. “You can speak freely. Have you seen my sister?”

“She showed up at my place just before daybreak this morning.”

Lovie kissed the rusty key chained around her neck. “Thank the Lord. Is she okay?”

“A little scared, but determined to see her plan through.”

“What do you know about her plan?” Eli asked.

“When night falls, she’s taking her daughter and leaving town for good.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Faith

F
aith paced the
floor in tiny circles in the galley kitchen on Mack’s houseboat. He promised her he wouldn’t reveal her whereabouts to her family, but he’d been gone longer than it took to buy hot dog rolls from the Minute Mart. She checked her watch for the umpteenth time—still more than two hours to go until sunset. She’d told the woman at the shelter in Columbia she would be there before midnight, but she needed the cover of darkness to camouflage her truck. Curtis would spot her bucket of rust right away.

She glanced over at Bitsy, who had finally fallen asleep on the banquette. In the past three weeks, Bitsy had experienced more than any little girl should ever have to experience. She’d witnessed her mother being beaten by her father. Watched her father handcuffed and carried away by the police. Discovered her aunt’s house ransacked by her father. An
d run a
way in the middle of the night from the family she loved the most, the one place she felt safe. Most little girls would be frightened of Captain Mack with his towering frame, shock of white hair, and loud abrasive voice. Not Bitsy. Normally she idolized him, but she’d been a trembling, whimpering, thumb-sucking mess since sneaking out of Sam’s house during the night. Bitsy had refused to share a bowl of popcorn with Mack or watch television with him, even when he turned the channel to
SpongeBob
. The few times Bitsy had managed to doze off, she’d cried out in her sleep from nightmares.

For the life of her, Faith could not imagine why Mack had sold his house on Maple Street and moved so far outside of town, even if the view of the inlet was spectacular. She had visited here several years ago and still remembered the way, but had forgotten the distance between the gravel road and the dock. With Bitsy clinging to her for dear life, she’d dragged the suitcase through the darkness, using the flashlight on her iPhone to guide her. The sound of a tree branch cracking in the distance had caused Bitsy to wet herself, the warm pee trickling through to Faith’s skin.

Faith heard footsteps on the boardwalk, then the door flew open and in filed Mack, Sam, and Eli, who was carrying Jamie on his back. Eli dumped Jamie on the sofa next to Bitsy. Startled awake by the commotion, the child’s eyes grew wide at the sight of her cousin. She dove into Jamie’s lap and buried her face in his neck.

Faith’s eyes met Mack’s. “You promised me you wouldn’t tell.”

He wagged a gnarled finger at her. “I never said I wouldn’t tell. I promised you I’d do what’s best for you. You need your family right now, Faith.”

“I thought we decided this the other day. You’re better off staying with me until Curtis is behind bars.” Sam reached for Faith, but was pushed away.

“You decided, Sam. Not me. As long as I’m around, the rest of you are in danger.”

Eli stepped forward. “I will do everything in my power to protect you, Faith, even if it means taking a leave of absence.”

“You’d do that for us?” Faith asked.

“Of course. I’ve grown fond of your family. Of you and Bitsy, your sister and your nephew. I’m committed to seeing this through. I won’t stop until we have Curtis in custody.”

“Assuming you catch him, how long can you keep him in jail?” Faith asked. “He threatened us with a gun the last time, and you were barely able to keep him through the weekend.”

“We have plenty of charges to throw at him. And this time the judge won’t offer him bail. Once he’s locked up, he’s not going anywhere for a long time, at least until Bitsy graduates from high school.”

“But now we have Mama to consider,” Faith said. “Where is she anyway?”

“With Bill and Sean,” Sam said. “They’re taking Mom by her house to get her things, then picking the dogs up from the kennel before heading out to the farm.”

Faith looked at her sister, then her nephew. “I love you all so much. It would kill me if anything happened to you because of me.”

“How do you think we’d feel if anything happened to you?” This time, when Sam wrapped her arm around her, Faith did not push her away. “If you leave town, Curtis will follow you. You will be on the run for the rest of your life.”

“Is there enough room for all of us at the farm?” Faith asked. “Jamie needs a first-floor bedroom.”

“There’s plenty of room,” Sam said. “Jamie and I can stay in the guest cottage, which has a first-floor master suite.”

“Bill described his alarm system to me,” Eli said. “In addition to having all the windows and doors wired in the main house and the cottage, he has a variety of motion and light sensors positioned at various points on the property. I’m confident you will be safe.”

“What do you think, Bits?” Jamie whispered to his cousin, loud enough for everyone to hear. “We’re all going to Sean’s for a great big sleepover. Wanna come?”

Bitsy removed her thumb from her mouth. “A sleepover?” she said, her voice soft and fragile.

“Don’t get her hopes up, Jamie,” Faith said. “I haven’t made up my mind.”

Bitsy crawled out of Jamie’s lap and ran to her mother. “Please, Mama.”

Faith reached down and picked the child up. Bitsy pulled her mother’s head close so she could whisper in her ear, “Can we please go? I’m afraid Daddy will find us and shoot you. Then I’ll have to be his little girl forever.”

Thirty-Four

Samantha

S
am beamed with
delight as she counted the credit card receipts at the end of the day on Saturday. Sweeney’s sales had exceeded her expectations for the first of the two big holiday weekends. She contributed a large part of their success to Janie Jasper’s feature article. Throughout the day, she had spotted a copy of the latest issue of
Lowcountry Living
in more than one customer’s oversized travel bag.

Roberto had planned well. Aside from a few of their more popular items, shrimp salad and gazpacho among them, they had plenty of inventory to open with on Monday. Same with the raw goods. In anticipation of a large crowd, Sam had overstocked, which should carry her through until a new shipment arrived late Monday afternoon. Jamie’s sushi won the prize for bestseller. Every last package had been sold.

As she did every evening upon closing, Sam checked the temperature settings on the thermostats, and made sure the doors on the refrigerated merchandizers
were shut
tight and the front door was locked. She flipped the Open sign to Closed, and turned off all the lights on her way to the kitchen.

“If we want to have this cookout we’ve been talking about all day, I need to get to the grocery store before the beachgoers buy up all the hamburger meat,” she said, hustling her family out the back door.

“I’ll go with you, Mom.” Jamie turned the key in the dead bolt. “None of us should go anywhere alone.”

“That would leave these three damsels in distress,” Sam said, smiling over at Faith, Lovie, and Bitsy.

“Sean’s at the farm.” Jamie removed his phone from his shirt pocket. “I’ll text him, to let him know they’re on their way home.”

Sam cast a doubtful glance at her sister, who waved her on. “Go. Don’t worry about us. You do the shopping and we’ll get the grill going.”

“Okay, fine. I’m sure Eli is lurking around here somewhere, anyway,” Sam said, wheeling Jamie toward the Jeep. “I’ve seen his patrol car pass by multiple times throughout the day.”

Once they were buckled in and Sam had started the car, Jamie turned to her and held up his hand. “High-five. Today was a good day. Does this mean we’re out of danger of bankruptcy?”

She slapped his hand, then crossed her fingers. “The jury is still out, but I’m definitely breathing a little easier.”

Sam and Jamie daydreamed their way to the Harris Teeter. They talked about adding a butcher, maybe even an auxiliary food truck to hit different hot spots during the lunch hour. Sam even convinced Jamie to consider his education, perhaps culinary school if he decided not to pursue a degree in business management from Carolina.

Mother and son were so busy making plans for their future they hadn’t noticed Curtis following them. He approached the Jeep as Sam was helping Jamie into his chair.

“Well, looky here. If it ain’t the cripple and his sexy mommy.”

When she heard his voice, Sam spun around to face him. “We don’t want any trouble, Curtis. Be on your way and I won’t have to call the police.”

“Fat chance, that.” Curtis took a step toward her, reeking of stale cigarettes and alcohol.

Sam shoved Jamie’s chair to the side. “Leave him out of it. He’s just a kid.”

“I ain’t got nothing against the boy. It’s you I’m after, bitch.” He lifted a bucket of paint, preparing to douse her with it.

Jamie cried, “Mom, watch out!”

Sam’s hands shot up, but her reaction time was too slow. She stumbled backward, clawing at her eyes and her nose and her mouth. The thick liquid clogged her air passages, preventing her from breathing. Suffocating, she panicked and opened her mouth to scream, but the sound that escaped was muffled.

“Next time it won’t be red paint. Next time it’ll be Faith’s blood.”

Although she couldn’t see him, Sam sensed Curtis’s presence in front of her, but when she tried to grab at him, she came up with a fistful of air.

“Hey! What the hell is going on here?”

Sam recognized Mack’s gruff voice. She then heard the clanging of metal hitting pavement followed by the pounding of feet running away.

She swiped at her eyes. “I can’t see! What’s happening?”

“Don’t do that, Mom.” Jamie’s hands were on hers pulling them away from her face. “You’ll make it worse.”

“He’s right, ma’am,” a strange voice said. “Try not to rub your eyes. I’ll be right back.”

“Who was that, Jamie?” she asked. “Where’s he going?”

“He’s the owner of the RV that was parked in front of us. He went inside his camper. I guess to get a towel.”

Her eyes burned, her mouth was full of paint, and she worried she would be blinded for life.

Somewhere to the right of her, she heard Jamie reporting the assault to the 911 operator.

“Tell them to send Eli!” Sam said. “I need Eli.”

“I’m texting him now, Mom.” Jamie gave her hand a comforting squeeze. “Try not to panic.”

“I’m a doctor. Let me help.” The stranger was back, his gentle voice calming. “I’m going to guide you over to my camper.”

She felt a hand on her forearm, a warm body at her side. She followed his lead, putting one foot in front of the other.

“Now, I want you to sit down in the doorway of my camper so I can look at your eyes.”

When Sam felt the pressure of his hands on her shoulders, she bent her knees slowly and felt for the doorway behind her.

“Can somebody hand me that paint bucket over there?” the gentle doctor called out.

There was a long pause. “What’s happening?” Sam asked.

“I’m just reading the label on the paint bucket, to see what kind of paint we’re dealing with.” Another pause. “Good, it’s latex. Nothing a little soapy water won’t cure.”

She felt something warm and wet on her eyes.

“The soap may burn, but whatever you do, don’t open your eyes until I say so.”

Sam sat still while the doctor wiped at her eyes again and again.

“I’m going to splash some fresh water on your eyes, then dry them with a towel.”

Sam leaned forward to allow for better positioning. She pressed her lids tight while the doctor splashed her face repeatedly.

“You can sit up now.”

She straightened. When she felt a dry towel dabbing at her eyes, she grabbed it from him, burying her whole face in it. She pulled the towel away and blinked her eyes open. She’d never been so happy to see her son, no matter how blurry his face appeared. She closed her eyes, resting them for a minute. When she opened them the second time, Mack was bent over in front of her, taking big gulps of air.

“Did you get him, Mack?”

Mack inhaled another deep breath and straightened. “He got away from me, but the police are hot on his trail.”

“Are your eyes still burning?” The hardened face in front of her did not match the doctor’s gentle voice. She’d pictured a small-framed man with a crew cut and wire-rimmed glasses. This man, this so-called doctor, was bald with a round face covered in red whiskers, mustache and beard, and bushy eyebrows. Under normal circumstances, she might have mistaken him for one of Curtis’s friends. She imagined him riding across the country on the back of a Harley Davidson—not greeting patients in an examining room.

“What kind of doctor are you?” she asked.

He chuckled. “I’m actually a veterinarian. I figured if I told you I treated animals instead of humans, you might not trust me.”

“That explains your soft voice,” she said. “Do your clients call you the pet whisperer?”

“I’ve been called that a time or two,” he said, and let out a deep belly laugh.

From a distance, she recognized Eli’s stocky frame approaching with a blanket in his outstretched hands. Once he reached her, he wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and helped her to her feet. “Let’s get you home. I’ll drive you and Jamie in your Jeep, and leave Swanson to interview the witnesses.”

“Thank you for your kindness,” she said to the pet whisperer. “You have a better bedside manner than most doctors I know.” She held her hand out to him.

“You’re welcome, kind lady,” he said, kissing the back of her hand. He slapped Eli on the back. “Find the bastard who did this to her.”

“We’re on it,” Eli said.

Sam pulled the blanket up over her head and kept her eyes glued to the ground as Eli led her to the car. She felt like the main attraction in the freak show at a state fair. Under Jamie’s protests, she crawled in the backseat of the Jeep and curled up in a fetal position.

How could such a great day go south so
quickly?

Her relief over being able to see gave way to rage as she listened to Jamie answer Eli’s endless stream of questions. Curtis had changed the game rules. The stakes were higher than ever, and she didn’t want to play anymore. He had destroyed her home and damn near blinded her. Next time he might douse her with gasoline and strike a match.

Next time he might go after her son.

Faith and Lovie were waiting for her outside the guest cottage, with a large container of dishwashing liquid and a stack of old towels.

Lovie wrapped her arm around Sam. “Come on, honey. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“I’ve already got the shower running for you,” Faith said, holding the door open for her sister.

“I don’t need your help,” Sam said, brushing her mother off. She grabbed the dishwashing detergent from Faith and a bottle of vodka from the fully stocked bar on her way up to her room.

“The booze will only make it worse, Sam,” Eli called up after her.

She slammed the bathroom door in response.

Locking the door behind her, she unscrewed the liquor bottle’s cap and took a long pull of vodka. She peeled off her paint-soaked clothes and tested the water before stepping into the shower, bottle in hand. In between swigs of vodka, she lathered and rinsed and repeated until the water ran clear.

Enveloped in the soft terry cloth robe her sister provided for guests, Sam curled up in the corner of the bathroom, between the toilet and the window, with the vodka. The alcohol hit her empty stomach, making her feel woozy. She drank more, i
n desperate search for oblivion. When the room began to spin, she lay down on the floor, letting the cool marble soothe the raw skin on her face.

She passed out, only to be awakened a while later by Eli’s persistent pounding on the door. “Open up, Sam.”

“Go away!”

“If you don’t open this door, I’ll break it down. And I’m pretty good at it too. I’ve had a lot of practice.”

Despite her foul mood, Sam found this funny and covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. She crawled over to the door and opened it. “Leave me alone, Eli. I’m not in the mood for a sermon about addiction. Go find someone else to preach to about the virtues of your twelve-step program.”

Placing one hand on each arm, Eli lifted her off the floor to her feet. “How about a hamburger, then? I have a fat juicy one waiting for you downstairs.”

She didn’t want food. She wanted more vodka. But if eating would get Eli off her back and food in her stomach, she would eat first, then have more to drink after he left.

He took her hand and led her downstairs to the small living area. Once she was settled on the sofa, he handed her a tray and sat down next to her.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked.

“I’ve already eaten, on the terrace with the others. We missed you. Jamie is quite the chef.”

She pinched off a piece of hamburger and shoved it in her mouth.

“Why don’t I talk while you eat. I’d like to tell you about my near-death experience with alcohol, if you’re willing to listen.”

He’d trapped her of course, but she couldn’t very well say no. His patronizing attitude toward her drinking grated her nerves, but as much as she hated to admit it, she was curious about the events that had made him that way.

“I’m willing to listen. As long as you don’t expect anything from me in return.”

“Is it expecting too much for me to ask you not to judge me?”

“As long as you take your own advice and don’t judge me.” He shot her a gimme-a-break look, and she shrugged. “You backed yourself into that corner.”

Eli leaned back against the cushions, pausing in thought before speaking. “When I was a junior in high school, I killed a kid.”