Chapter 29
CHAPTER 29
FORD
Bree was officially hiding.
It had been three days since The Kiss, and I hadn’t seen her once. She’d already been out when I’d tried to stop by before taking Peyton to school. If she’d come home before going into work, she’d done it with a stealth that would’ve made a SEAL proud. She’d been getting home late from the Brewhouse. Busy or avoiding me? Maybe some of both. I’d stayed up each night, making sure she actually got in okay, but I hadn’t gone over. I hadn’t wanted to leave Peyton alone. But more, I hadn’t wanted to risk what might happen if Bree and I were alone together in a space where we wouldn’t get interrupted.
She needed time. I also knew she’d argue she needed space, but this was as much as I was willing to give her, which was part of why I’d sprung Peyton from her algebra homework for us to go grab dinner at the Brewhouse. I also hoped to find some way to talk to Peyton about the stolen shipment of her stuff. There’d been no word from the shipping company or the police, and I knew I couldn’t put this off forever. I hoped delicious food and good atmosphere might soften the blow a little.
I pulled into the Brewhouse lot, and Peyton was out of the car before I’d even killed the engine. She bolted through the front door, making a beeline for the corner booth where Ed and the other Gray Beards were settled.
“Hi Ford’s daughter!” Milt called out, his hearing aid squealing.
Wally smacked Milt’s shoulder. “Her name is Peyton, you old coot.”
Milt cupped a hand behind his ear. “What? Who’s praying?”
Was he ever going to get his hearing checked?
Peyton slid into the booth beside Ed, already pulling out her phone to show him something. My kid had adopted a whole gaggle of honorary grandfathers, and they’d taken to her like she was their own flesh and blood.
“We found another discrepancy on that map,” Ed told her, leaning in close. “See here? The original survey shows…”
I couldn’t make out the rest as the other Gray Beards chimed in with their own theories about whatever treasure hunting project they had going. The sight of them all fussing over her made my chest tight.
These men had been fixtures at the Brewhouse since… well, since it was still the original Tidewater Tavern. They’d watched me grow up, razzing me about everything from my first crush to joining the Navy. Now they were doing the same for my daughter.
My gaze swept the room, looking for Bree. She was behind the bar, looking harried as she pulled beers and poured drinks. As it was Friday night, the place was jumping.
The hostess appeared at my elbow, a couple of menus in hand. “We’ve got a table for you and Peyton over in the corner.”
I didn’t want to throw Bree off her game, so I followed Carly to our seat. A few minutes later, the Gray Beards dispersed, most of them heading out, so Peyton finally came to join me.
“Getting somewhere on your treasure hunting project?”
“We think so. Mr. Ed is trying to narrow down our search parameters.”
I pretended to study the menu while keeping an ear on Peyton’s excited chatter about the treasure map project. Despite the change in name, the core of the menu hadn’t changed in years. I could recite it in my sleep.
“Did you hear about the break-in at the O’Connell Fishing Company?” A woman’s voice carried from the next table.
“The place where that Galef guy worked?” her companion asked.
“Yeah. Well, used to work. I heard he got fired like two weeks before he died. Something to do with shady doings with Atlantic Fisheries. Anyway, the place was torn apart, just like his apartment. Their poor office manager, Lindsay Messina, surprised the intruder and got attacked. Police aren’t sure if it’s connected to Galef’s murder, though.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me if it wasn’t. Atlantic’s been stealing other companies’ catches for years. Is the office manager okay?”
“Yeah. Concussion, I think, but O’Connell’s son showed up. He’s keeping a close eye on her.”
It was possible that the murder and the break in at O’Connell’s weren’t connected. As the woman had said, Galef had been fired a week or two before the murder. But given that Galef’s apartment had also been tossed, that suggested someone was looking for something they believed Galef had. The question was what? Had that been why Galef was killed? Unfortunately, the guy seemed to have plenty of enemies. All the scuttlebutt I’d heard suggested he was a real asshole to most people. That hadn’t made the police department’s investigation any easier.
“Hi folks! Ready to order?” Our server appeared, notepad in hand.
“Peyton?” I gestured for her to go first.
She closed her menu. “Can I get the fish and chips? And a chocolate shake?”
“Make that two fish and chips,” I said. “But I’ll stick with water.”
“You got it.”
My gaze strayed to the bar, watching Bree move with practiced ease behind it as she served one customer after another. It was almost graceful, a kind of dance.
After the server left, Peyton propped her chin on her hand. “You know, if you want to go talk to her, you should.”
I dragged my attention back to my daughter. “What?”
“Bree. You keep looking at her like a lost puppy.”
Busted. Heat crept up my neck. “I do not.”
“Do too.” She smirked. “You’re not subtle.”
“When did you get so smart about relationships?”
“I’m thirteen, not blind. Plus, I read a lot of romance.”
I groaned. “That’s not helping your case.” Shit, was that even appropriate reading for a kid her age?
“All I’m saying is, you obviously like her. And she likes you too.”
I would’ve questioned that before The Kiss, but now I was pretty sure Peyton was right. Still. “It’s complicated.”
“Adults always say that when they’re making things harder than they need to be.” She fiddled with her straw wrapper. “I like her. She gets what it’s like, you know? To not know where you belong.”
My heart squeezed. “You belong here. With me. With Grandma Flo and Mimi. Always.”
“I’m getting that. And I’m grateful.” She glanced toward the bar. “But Bree understands what it was like before.”
I followed her gaze just as Bree looked our way. I lifted my hand in a wave before I could think better of it. A blush stained her cheeks, and she quickly turned back to her customers.
“See?” Peyton said. “She’s totally into you.”
“You need to stop reading so much romance.”
She rolled her eyes. “Never. Romance is a lesson to all women in what they ought to expect out of their future partners.”
That was definitely not something I was ready to think about. I wasn’t going to let her date until she was thirty. That was reasonable. Right?
“I take it you got this from your mom?”
“She was a big romance reader. Anyway, I’m just saying, if you want to date her, I’m cool with it.”
I leveled Peyton with what I hoped amounted to a parental Look. “I appreciate your support.” I just wished that Bree herself would be that cool with it.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Ed sit bolt upright in his booth, a pure Eureka! expression on his face. He shoved up from the booth, took two steps and keeled right over.
I was out of my seat, racing across the restaurant almost before he hit the floor.
“Pop!”
I dropped to my knees, reaching for him. “Ed? Can you hear me?”
Bree skidded to a halt beside us, her face sheet white. But her hands were steady. “Help me turn him over. Keep him lying down.”
Ed’s skin had taken on an alarming grayish cast, and his breathing came in short, uneven gasps. My training kicked in as I helped Bree turn him onto his side.
“Pop, did you take your blood thinners today?” Bree’s fingers pressed against his pulse point.
Ed blinked up at us, confusion clouding his features. “What?”
“His pulse is erratic.” Bree’s voice remained steady, in direct contrast to the tremor in her hands. “Pop, focus. Your medication. Did you take it?”
“I… think so.” Ed’s words slurred.
“What’s happening?” I kept my voice low, not wanting to add to the tension radiating through the now-silent restaurant.
“AFib attack.” Bree’s jaw clenched. “Worse than usual.”
AFib. I remembered that long ago summer Ed had been going off-island for some doctor’s appointments, but Bree had never said what it was all about. And then we’d imploded, so I hadn’t had opportunity to ask about it again. Had she been dealing with this on her own for all these years?
“EMTs are four minutes out,” someone called from across the bar, phone pressed to his ear.
I glanced over my shoulder to where Peyton stood frozen beside Monty, eyes wide with fear. Every instinct screamed to go to her, to shield her from this scene playing out. But one look at Bree’s face—the terror she was fighting to contain as she monitored Ed’s vitals—and I knew where I needed to be.
“What do you need?” I asked Bree.
“Keep him on his side. Talk to him. Keep him conscious.” She shifted closer to Ed’s head. “Pop, stay with me, okay? Help’s coming.”
Ed’s unfocused gaze drifted between us. “Sorry to cause… such a fuss. But need to tell?—”
“Hush.” Bree’s voice cracked. “You just focus on breathing.”
I could hear sirens in the distance, growing closer. They couldn’t get here fast enough.
The next four minutes felt like four years, as each tick of the clock was punctuated by Ed’s labored breathing and Bree’s quiet haranguing that he damned well better hang on. He was her only family, and I couldn’t begin to fathom how terrified she was right now.
The EMTs, part of the Sutter’s Ferry Fire Department, finally burst through the door, equipment in hand. I shifted back to give them room to work, but kept my hand on Ed’s shoulder. Bree rattled off his medical history and medications with the rapid-fire precision of someone who’d done this before.
“He’s on Eliquis for AFib. Last dose was this morning. His cardiologist is Dr. Matthews at Cape Fear Heart Associates in Wilmington. They have his full history.”
The lead EMT nodded as his partner hooked Ed up to their portable monitors. “How long has he been experiencing symptoms?”
“Less than ten minutes. His pulse is erratic, and he’s growing less responsive.” Bree’s voice was still steady, but her hands shook harder.
The monitor beeped a warning. Ed’s eyes had drifted shut.
“Pop?” Bree leaned forward. “Pop, can you hear me?”
“BP’s dropping,” one EMT announced. “We need to move.”
“Should we transport to Outer Banks Hospital?” the other asked.
“No, call for Medevac. With his history, we need to get him to New Hanover Regional. They’ve got the cardiac unit.”
Bree’s face went even paler. “I’m coming with him.”
“Ma’am, there won’t be room in the chopper. We’ll need to stabilize him for transport. Best thing you can do is meet us there.”
I grabbed Bree’s hand and squeezed. “I’ll take you.”
She started to shake her head, but I cut her off. “You’re in no shape to drive yourself, and you know it. Let me help.”
The EMTs had Ed on the gurney now, oxygen mask in place. If possible, his skin had gone even grayer.
“The chopper’s eight minutes out,” someone called.
Her eyes wide and panicked, Bree’s fingers tightened around mine. “Okay. Yes.”