“But—”
“But, nothing. I’ve given you so many chances, and you’ve used up all of them. Not to mention how you’ll leave anyway if you get elected.”
He stalked out before she could say anything else. The message was clear. Pull her act together, and quick, or she’d be fired. She sure couldn’t bank on getting elected. People liked her, but she didn’t have as much experience as her opponent. Even if she did get elected, the term only lasted four years.
As much as she disagreed with Barry’s old-fashioned view about women, she needed to respect the job as long as she decided to stay in it. After all, she was getting paid to do it. Why didn’t she just quit already? If she lost the election, she could try to get a job at another firm. But the thought of no income—for who knew how long—made her feel like breaking out in hives.
Before Rodney had come into her life, work had been a breeze. Where could he be? The question was the last thing on her mind when she went to bed at night and the first when she woke up in the morning. No one seemed to know or care because they still had their lead singer, or so they thought.
Thinking of Jack gave her another creepy chill. Why had everyone accepted him as Rodney so easily? Sure, his face was messed up, but couldn’t people see his ugly soul like she could? After flying home from the hospital, she’d almost contacted the band, or the media, several times to correct the misconception.
But she’d stopped herself each time. It wasn’t her place to blow the whistle on that family’s business. At the time of the crash, Rodney wasn’t even her boyfriend anymore. Most of all, Jack wouldn’t take too kindly to having his cover blown. The cold look in his eyes told her he’d stop at nothing to keep her quiet, or punish her if she squealed. She had no desire to endanger her life or those of her parents.
A person didn’t simply vanish into thin air. She bit her bottom lip hard enough to hurt. Bodies floated in water. Washed up on shorelines where fishermen found them. She scanned the local Louisiana papers online every day, but no word so far. All they’d done was a simple search in the swampland near the crash. When nothing turned up, they figured the body had sunk too deeply into quicksand to be recovered.
If she wasn’t currently chained to her job, she’d go to Louisiana and have every swamp in St. Tammany parish dredged. She might not like what she found, but at least it would give her closure.
He was still alive. She knew it. Or was that wishful thinking?
Had he run away? Did he even want to be found? Jack had been right. It was over. If Rodney really was alive and wanted her back, he’d find her. Until then, she needed to get on with her life. Mainly, her career. Because when the next problem hit her parents, he wouldn’t be around to help pay the bill.
And by running for office, she could help even more people. She needed to think of them, not what might be in the swamp.
* * *
The next night, Rodney woke up covered in sweat, and not just from the humid air. He’d been drowning. Sucked down by dark water thick as molasses. It filled his nose. Crept down his windpipe. Threatened to snuff out his life.
He must have been ejected into the water when the plane crashed. Why hadn’t he drowned? Someone or something must have saved him. The pain in his arm reminded him of churning water and being bitten.
Good Lord. He had tangled with an alligator. Had he landed on top of it? The creature might have helped saved his life.
Why couldn’t he recall anything about the crash itself? He probably would, in time, but some things were best not remembered.
A gentle hand soothed his brow. “You all right?”
He could barely see Karen in the darkness, but her voice distinguished her from the man and boy.
“Yeah. I had a nightmare about almost drowning.”
“Then your memory is coming back. That’s a good sign,” she said, sitting on the edge of his cot.
His blurred vision had improved, too, earlier that day. A huge relief. It meant he could probably get by without a hospital. Worst case, if Karen hadn’t set his ankle correctly, he could get surgery on it someday.
“Who’s Dee?” she asked.
His heart quickened. “Did I say her name in my sleep?”
“Yes.”
“Someone I once knew,” he finally said, remembering to stay incognito.
Did she assume he’d died? Was she hurting? Maybe even crying at this very minute?
“Do you remember how you fell in the water?” Karen asked. “Were you in a boat?”
“I don’t know.” At least that was the truth.
“It’s strange because we found you right around the time that plane crashed.”
“That is strange, isn’t it?” he quipped.
Why didn’t he come out and confess his identity, get proper medical care, and reunite with his band and brother? And maybe even Dee. It would be the right thing to do. He’d chosen his exhausting, complicated life. Time to man up and reclaim it. If he wanted to end the band, the plane crash sure gave him a good excuse for doing it.
In the morning, he’d ask Bubba to help him make some calls. He could take him to the nearest town in his motorboat, or maybe he had a cell phone.
“I’m really glad you studied nursing,” he said. “If I may ask, how come you’re not working as one now?”
She looked away. “I couldn’t afford to finish my studies, and Timothy came along. Maybe I’ll go back. Someday.”
Someday. Around the same time he’d go back to his old life.
“Oh, did Pop tell you?” Karen asked. “Today, he found out they gave
