“It’s not him. The real Rodney is dead!” she blurted out.
He faced her with a frown on his face. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”
“Ever since the plane crash, his brother, Jack, has been impersonating him.”
“Then how—?”
“Jack has fooled everyone, but not me. When I visited him in the hospital, I knew right away who he really was.” Fear gripped her belly. “Please don’t tell anyone. He’s a dangerous man.”
“I won’t.” Ted rubbed his top lip. “So, your ex-beau is deceased?”
She nodded. “I even traveled into the swamp near the crash site looking for him. I asked everyone I could find. He’s really gone.”
Ted took an ungentlemanly large swig of wine. “I see.”
She held up her hand. “I’m not about to ask you for extra time. You’ve already been more than patient with me.”
“Don’t give me your answer now,” he insisted. “I need to process what you’ve just told me. Let’s do something relaxing tomorrow like go for a riverboat cruise.”
“Sounds nice.” But boats only made her think about the one she and Rhonda had used to search the swamp.
She joined Ted at the balcony’s glass table to peruse the travel brochures lying there. Nothing interested her until she latched onto one for renting houseboats.
“Hey, let’s rent one of these,” she suggested.
“You can’t be serious,” he said, studying the brochure. “They’re so primitive. Probably no showers, no air conditioning, and lots of mosquitoes.”
Despite the lack of modern amenities, they’d looked so relaxing to her when she’d seen them.
“You forget I grew up off the grid. Roughing it might be kind of fun, don’t you think?”
He gripped her shoulders. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you go? Take some time away from the busy world to think.”
She nodded. “That’s exactly what I need to do.”
So close to the crash site, it would be the perfect place to say goodbye to Rodney Walker. Then she could finally give Ted the answer he’d been so patiently waiting for.
* * *
The next day, Dee parked her rental car at a shady lot draped with Spanish moss. She took the ramshackle walkway and stepped inside a building that resembled a shack more than a place of business.
At least she had sense enough to wear practical clothes—her green tank top, paisley shorts with an elastic waistband, and sneakers. She dragged her fingers through her curls so hard her scalp stung. Maybe she shouldn’t have come here alone. Or at all.
Ted had to fly home for a meeting. They’d agreed to meet as soon as she returned—whether as a happily engaged couple or broken up remained to be seen.
“Can I help you?” the guy behind the counter asked, his faced buried in a newspaper.
Despite the wringing-wet humidity, a chill rushed over her. That voice. So familiar. Southern but not Cajun. No, it couldn’t be…
“Um, yes, I’d like to rent a houseboat.” She stepped closer to the counter, entranced by a familiar scent she couldn’t name. One that stirred something primal deep inside her soul.
“How many nights?” he asked.
“One,” she said in a small voice.
When he laid the newspaper down, she finally got a look at him. About what she expected for a place like this—dingy baseball cap, hair pulled back into a short ponytail, and a full beard thicker than peanut butter.
“Would you like the small boat or the bigger one?” he asked.
“The small one,” she replied.
“It’s two hundred a night plus tax and fees for towing, cleaning, and fuel for the boat and generator.” He slid a few pieces of paper across the scarred counter. “Here are the rules and the contract. I’ll need a hundred-dollar deposit.”
When he finally looked at her, his face went pale, and he grabbed the newspaper, as if to hide behind it again.
“I found you,” she whispered.
Chapter Twenty
At that moment, a loud family of four shuffled in. Not now, Dee thought. Not when her heart had practically exploded out of her chest. Not when she’d finally found him.
“I’ll be right with you folks after I help this lady onto her boat,” Rodney told them. “Did you bring your own food, ma’am?”
Food? Apparently, she’d be roughing it and starving. “Uh, no.”
“No problem. Would you like the bare-bones special?”
“What is it?” She couldn’t believe they were discussing food after everything that had happened.
“Hot dogs with buns and condiments, cold tea, bottled water, and a Danish for breakfast. The boat has a grill.”
“Sounds great.” She’d eat salamanders for a chance to be alone with him.
She signed the paperwork and handed him her credit card, which he processed. As she followed him outside, her legs shook so badly she could hardly walk. The nerves she’d felt before her political speeches were mere tremors compared to the full-blown earthquake ripping through her right now.
To her surprise, he limped a little and used a walking stick.
“I thought you were dead,” she cried at the end of the boardwalk.
Her lips curled back in a grimace, and tears dampened her cheeks. All the political finesse Ted had taught her about hiding her emotions flew out the window.
“Shh,” Rodney said, giving her hand a quick squeeze. “Look, I get off work in two hours.”
His touch almost reduced her to a puddle—to drip between the boards of the dock into the river.
“But—”
“I’ll find you,” he promised.
Then, he showed her to her boat and rattled off a list of instructions. She’d driven a motorboat with Rhonda, but the monstrosity docked by the pier was a lot bigger. Hell, she wasn’t even in the right frame of mind to drive her own car right now.
“Uh, how do I drive one of these things?”
He grinned. “You don’t. We’ll tow it for you.”
Thank God. “What happened to your leg?” she finally asked.
“I’ll tell you later.”
After another employee towed her boat up the river to a private area and left her there, she wondered if Rodney would actually show up in two hours. He hadn’t exactly proven himself to be reliable. After dumping her, he didn’t even have the decency to
