If she made it through the next few days, she’d come back to The Lemonade Stand to thank everyone in person and collect the diary.
In tennis shoes, jeans and a black pullover, she walked for several miles in the morning coolness. Not hiding anymore. If Steve found her, all the better.
Ending up at the beach—not her and Max’s beach, but another public beach with cliffs that jutted out into the ocean—hadn’t been part of her plan, but it wasn’t outside the plan either. She needed a place well away from The Lemonade Stand. Well away from Max and Caleb.
She picked a place in the sand and sat down. Pulled her cell phone out of her bra, and dialed a number she knew by heart. A private number that Steve gave out to very few people and had forwarded to whatever cell he carried.
“Meredith?” He answered on the first ring.
She’d known he would. And the familiar sound of his voice still sent cold chills down her spine and brought bile to her throat.
“Yeah, Stevie, it’s me.” Thanks to him she had the strength to play this through.
“I wasn’t sure you got my message.”
The note on her van. He’d told her to call. That was all. Nothing else. No overt threat.
But the note had been enough. She’d heard the threat inherent in it. Just as he’d known she would.
They’d been best friends. Lovers. They’d told each other all of their secrets. They’d known each other better than anyone else had ever known either of them.
And he’d betrayed her confidences. Used them against her in the most vile way possible. In the name of love, he’d taken every beautiful thing she had to give and turned it into a twisted mass of fear-based choices.
She wanted to do the same to him but was glad she couldn’t. Glad that she wasn’t a vile person, too, in spite of the hell he’d put her through.
“Are you still in Santa Raquel?”
“I can be. In an hour, tops. Where should I pick you up?”
She told him the name of the beach. Described her location. And then sat in the sand, watching the waves. And waited for him.
* * *
A WARRANT FOR a man’s arrest was fine, but didn’t do a whole lot of good if they didn’t have the guy.
Max heard Chantel on the phone Sunday morning, and gathered that some kind of bulletin had gone out in both Nevada and California to alert law enforcement that an arrest warrant had been issued, that he was a former cop and a licensed private detective who would probably be armed, and to be on alert.
He was wanted for murder and was to be brought in, no questions asked.
He was considered dangerous.
Max figured he and Caleb would lie low for the day.
* * *
THE BEACH WASN’T CROWDED, but there were enough people around that Meredith blended in. Some were in suits, braving the cool temperature to swim in the water. And some, like her, were fully dressed, just enjoying the fresh ocean breeze.
Conversations floated in and out of earshot. An occasional squeal pierced the air. The waves created a white noise that might have relaxed her on another day. In another life.
Meredith took many deep breaths. Enjoying the salty tang of the ocean air. Gazing at the horizon and knowing that the possibilities were endless. Even today. Anything could happen.
And there was always someone stronger than the strongest human. Hope and faith and joy. Those weren’t things man could control. Or take away. You had to give them away.
She wondered when she’d done that.
And still, the water, the endless, endless water comforted her.
She didn’t hear him. But she felt his presence behind her long before he sat down and sidled up to her in the sand, his legs sliding along the outside of hers, his chest to her back, his arms around her ribs.