Chapter 20 #2
“Oh, this is not our lucky day, Sundance,” Sterling said.
“We’re not playing that game. Just fucking go. That SUV is off the bridge and gaining like it's got a supercharged engine or something."
Pop! Pop!
"They’re closing in," Nick said. "Coming wide. Trying to circle ahead and succeeding I might add."
"The road curves left up here through the cypress, I think. I’ll pull a U-turn as soon as I can and go back."
"Over the bridge," Nick said. "I suppose they might not be that stupid again."
Sterling took the turn too fast because slow would mean stopping, and stopping would mean dead. Mud sucked at the bad rim. The steering wheel shook like it wanted to leave his hands.
Then the black SUV came out of the trees ahead.
Nick fired.
Shots from the SUV barreled toward them.
Utter chaos.
The windshield shattered. One round punched through the dash. Another pelted the radio. A third hit the center console, missing Nick's arm by an inch.
Sterling jerked the wheel right.
The truck dropped off the road and hammered through brush. Palmetto scraped both sides. The frontend dipped toward the canal bank.
The wheel ripped sideways and tore against Sterling’s grip. Pain shot through his wrist. The front bumper hit a cypress knee with a brutal crunch. The back end lifted, swung, and the whole world rolled.
Metal screamed.
Glass shattered.
The sky went sideways.
Sterling’s shoulder slammed into the door. His head clipped something hard. The seat belt locked across his chest and stole his breath.
The truck landed on its side with a final groan.
Sterling blinked.
His ribs hurt.
His wrist hurt.
His right knee had wedged under the dash at an angle he didn’t appreciate.
Nick groaned.
Boots crunched through shell and broken glass.
Two sets.
The truck lay on the driver’s side. He was pinned against the lower door with Nick half-suspended above him by his seat belt. Bad angles all around.
A man crouched outside the shattered windshield.
Sterling knew the face.
Logan Pike.
“Well,” Pike said. “That was more exciting than it needed to be.”
Two hours after Sterling and Nick dropped her off, Juniper stood behind the bar with one hand wrapped around a glass of iced tea and the other pressed against the edge of the counter like it might keep her from checking her phone for the seventeenth time.
Sterling hadn’t called. They hadn't been dating long enough to know if that was unusual or not. Not to mention, he and Nick were checking out a lead, not taking a scenic ride through the Everglades with a picnic basket and a tour guide.
Still, something crawled under her skin.
"Are you listening to me?" Harley sat on the customer side of the bar with a basket of fries in front of her, a bottle of water sweating beside it, and her hair twisted up in a knot that looked like it had lost a fight with humidity. That was a normal thing in Florida.
“I'm sorry. Sterling said he'd call, and he hasn't." Undercover work meant being as close to the truth as possible. And that was about as close to the truth as she could possibly get.
“How are you two doing?”
"Great. Which is why I'm weirded out that I'm weirded out. I shouldn't be. He's just out with an old buddy. Maybe it's because that old friend used to also be a friend of my late husband's."
"Yeah, that could be strange," Harley said.
"But Sterling's basically in love with you. Has been for months."
Juniper's stomach did that schoolgirl flip-flop. "I feel the same way."
"Now, that's juicy gossip." Harley waved a fry. "You two went from zero to sixty pretty quick."
"And I'm not going to apologize for it, either," Juniper said. "Now, what were you talking about?"
The lunch rush had softened into the lazy stretch between meals.
Three tables in the dining room. Two regulars at the far end of the bar arguing about boat motors.
Liam was in the kitchen with Manny, and Tara had taken over the hostess stand even though no one had asked her to.
She liked to be in the center of every possible entrance.
Harley dipped her fry into ranch and gave her a look. “That was a nice transition to a different topic.”
“I was just trying to be a good friend.”
“I appreciate that, and I was telling you that Cullen has basically pushed me right out of the friend zone.”
“Wait. Like no dating? And no hanging out as friends?”
Harley slumped. “His ex and my ex are all but living together and calling the shots about Tyler. And if Cullen wants weekends and overnights, I can't be in the picture. He's giving me the cold shoulder all together.”
Juniper leaned across the counter and took her hand. "I'm sorry, Harley. I know how much you care about him."
“It sucks even more because I live next to him,” Harley said. “He's helping Dawson with something today, and I also know he's talking about what a dickhead my ex-husband is and how worried he is about Tyler. I'm glad he's doing that, I just wish I wasn't being punished.”
“You didn't do anything wrong.”
Harley pointed a fry at her. “I broke Graham's nose.”
"He beat you."
"I didn't tell anyone," Harley said softly. "I don’t have proof."
"I don't care. The man deserves to be in prison for what he did. We shouldn’t be shaming the victim."
Harley laughed. "Funny, that's what he says."
"God, I want to hit him." Juniper shook her head.
“Hi there," Tara said, her voice sweet. "Welcome to Juniper's Pub. Can I help you?”
Juniper glanced over her shoulder out of habit.
"Holy shit," she whispered.
Beatrice Strickland stood just inside the door wearing white linen pants, a pale-blue blouse, sunglasses pushed up into silver hair, and a smile Juniper had seen on her wedding day, at birthday parties, and the day she'd left for Calusa Cove.
"I'm looking for my niece," Bea said. "Juniper. Juniper Solstice. I'm her Aunt Bea. Could you tell her I'm here?"
"I didn't know you had an aunt. You never mentioned her."
Juniper’s grip tightened around the towel. "Slipped my mind."
"Family slipped your mind?" Harley said.
"Oh. Welcome," Tara said. "Juniper's right over there."
Bea walked around the bar and smiled. “Surprise, Juniper.”
“Aunt Bea,” Juniper said, because what else was she supposed to say? “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see Juniper's Pub for myself.” Bea reached her and folded her into a hug. "I wanted to see what you've done with this place I've been hearing so much about."
Juniper left her hands at her side. She should've returned the hug. She knew that. But she couldn't bring herself to do it.
“Let me get a good look at you." Bea held her by the shoulders. "Florida sure has been good to you."
“I like it here.”
“It's too hot, and the bugs are the size of my fist.” Bea laughed as she glanced around. “But this place sure does look like an authentic Florida tiki hut or bar or pub or whatever it's called. It's adorable, and I love seeing your name on the sign.”
"Everyone in town started calling this place Juniper's about a month after I bought it, so thought it was only fitting."
"I didn't think it would fit you." Bea glanced around. “Is there some place we can go chat in private? Family business.”
“Sure.” Juniper wiped her hands on the towel even though they were dry.
“Let's go back to my office.” Juniper led Bea through the kitchen, ignoring the stares from the staff, and into her small office.
She shut the door behind her and sat at her desk.
Her phone was in her back pocket. Her weapon was in the drawer.
It wasn't like she could have it on her when she worked.
And at the bar, that would make the staff nervous.
Bea glanced around the office, letting her big smile drop. She pulled out the chair that was in front of the desk and made herself comfortable.
“You know, I came down here once,” Bea said. "Two months before you did."
“I didn't know that.”
"We were trying to decide if having you buy this place was a good idea, or if it would be better having you do something else."
"Like what?" Juniper asked.
"Work for Decker Brown's Development company, but that was gonna be a hard placement. There's the marina, but there was a bigger risk of you being let go. There were jobs here, but nothing that could be permanent. So, this was the best fit, and it suits you.”