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Chapter Twenty-Nine

C laire stepped out of the gallery into the crisp autumn air and pulled her sweater tighter.

The weather in Florida in the late fall could be hot one day and cold another.

The sun was popping in and out of dark clouds.

She sniffed the air. Rain was coming. The sidewalks were crowded as people scurried about doing chores, shopping or eating lunch.

She walked across the street toward the little deli around the corner for lunch.

She felt a tingling at the base of her neck like someone was watching her.

Weird. She’d felt uncomfortable for the past couple of weeks.

And strange things were happening. Hang-up calls at the gallery; emails asking her to call, but no one answered, little gifts left at her desk with no name on them.

Her co-worker, Martha, suggested it was either a suitor or prankster but probably nothing to worry about.

Claire tried not to think about it, but it was unsettling.

Still, she hadn’t wanted to tell Joe or Sam because it was just random things.

The deli was full when she got there. She spied a seat at the counter and sat down. The tingling went away. Silly. There was probably nothing to worry about. Keith was dead, and she was still new to Florida. Outside of Mark, Sam, Joe, and the people at work, she didn’t know anyone else.

She ordered, then changed her mind about eating there and decided to bring lunch back to her office.

A new show was coming up, there were reports due, she had hired a new receptionist to help her who was starting the next day and needed a desk plus she promised an artist she would preview his work—she had a lot to do.

Her lunch was rung up. She paid, grabbed the bag and walked out.

Thankfully, it hadn’t started raining, although the clouds were thickening, and the sky was getting darker.

She hurried down the sidewalk, stopped at the walkway, waited for the walk light.

Cars were honking and speeding up in a hurry to get nowhere.

People were bustling about. She tapped her foot, impatient to get back to work, and start the new exhibit.

Hot breath on the back of her neck, a bump, and she was pushed off the sidewalk into oncoming traffic—traffic that was now barreling down toward her. After a moment of panic, she was pulled back on the sidewalk.

“Are you all right, hon?” asked the gray-haired woman who had pulled her back. “You’d think people would be a little more courteous. That man was just too much in a hurry.”

Claire took a big gulp of air. “Wow, that was close. I’m fine. Thank you.”

She stepped back from the edge of the sidewalk. What the heck had just happened? Her foot never slipped off the sidewalk before. She had been distracted, and it almost cost her. She shook her head. Note to self: Don’t stand so close to the edge. Stay focused.

The walk back to the gallery was uneventful, and Claire spent the rest of the afternoon placing landscapes from a new artist around the showroom. At 6 p.m., she stopped. Tonight, Sam and her friends were taking her out. Joe had jokingly asked if he could come and keep an eye out for her.

“No guys allowed tonight,” she said. If he was disappointed, he didn’t sound it. Claire knew he wasn’t too serious. They would be getting together at her house the next night.

“Thought I’d check. I’m going to Mark’s to play poker with some of the guys. Have fun,” he’d said.

Sam’s friend Jake Summers owned Neptune’s Navel Tiki Bar. When Claire arrived, the bar was already hopping, although she understood it got even busier and crazier much later. Fine by her. She needed the downtime, not the bustle of a bar.

Lively Calypso music drowned out the sound of voices at the bar.

There were couples, singles, some dancing, some eating, all having fun.

Fishnets and fishing floats hanging from the ceiling competed for space.

A bamboo thatched roof hung over the bar, and neon signs advertising drinks flashed on and off.

Artificial palm trees, a live parrot in the corner, and a small waterfall complemented the inside decor.

When was the last time she went to a bar by herself, let alone drank with girlfriends—well, potential girlfriends?

Sam and her friends were already outside at a corner table, waving to her.

Claire strolled to the table and watched the boats at the marina gently bobbing in the water.

She passed another tiki bar. Multiple tiki torches lit the area, welcoming all who ventured into the kitschy, tropical wonderland.

Their citronella scent was a welcome cry from the old kerosene smell.

“Wow. I never experienced a tiki bar before,” Claire said as the women all shuffled over to allow her to sit down.

“Well, hunker down. Jake is bringing us his new special drink, the Flaming Zombie. Be prepared to be impressed,” said Sam.

“And get drunk,” piped up a small woman sitting in the corner.

“Marlee, that’s only you. The rest of us can hold our liquor,” said the woman next to her.

“Humph, you’re all jealous,” said Marlee, and everyone laughed.

“Claire, let me introduce you to my friends before they all get drunk. And by the way, I’m the designated driver since I have to be up early tomorrow,” said Sam.

She went around the table introducing Marlee, Hailey, Grace, Julie, Laura, and Anne.

Claire hoped she would remember their names.

They all looked put-together and self-confident.

Something she wasn’t feeling yet and needed to get over.

It would take time, the therapist said. Well, time was all she had.

Hearing “ohs” and “ahs” behind her, Claire turned to see a server holding cups with sparklers shooting flames.

“Here you go, girls,” said the server as she passed the drinks around.

“Yum,” said Grace. “I understand Jake only serves this outside because of the sparklers. Smart.”

They toasted the Flaming Zombie and Jake. Then toasted new friendships. Claire was a little overwhelmed to be accepted by these women so quickly. Maybe they wouldn’t like her if they ever found out about the abuse and what a coward she had been.

“I hear you’re Mark’s cousin.”

Claire said yes.

“What brings you down here?” Anne asked.

And so it began. What could she say that wouldn’t make her appear like a loser? Stop! If her therapist heard that, she would be angry .

They would get the sanitized version. “I was married, my husband died, and since I grew up in Florida, I decided to stay here.”

“Glad you did,” said Marlee.

The conversation veered into her work at the gallery and her art. Both comfortable subjects. It felt good sharing her work with friends.

“Ben tells me that Joe was guarding you for a while. Is that true?” asked Grace.

“Joe? Our Joe,” squealed Marlee. She looked at Claire and squinted her eyes. “Tell me more. Is he still the iceman? He’s a hunk, but don’t tell Ben I said that.” She put her fingers to her lips and zipped. Then she grinned. “Have you been to the Batcave?”

Claire was not going there. She looked around at the other women. Did they want gossip on Joe? Tough. He was not going to be fodder for a group of women.

“Marlee, you’re scaring her,” said Grace. She patted Claire’s hand and glared at Marlee. “We don’t want to know any personal business, do we, Marlee?”

Marlee stopped gaping and looked mortified. “Oh my, I’m so sorry. I never know when to stop. It’s just that Joe and Ben were guarding me when I had that killer after me. I really like Joe, but I could never get him to tell me anything.”

Joe? Killer? What the heck was going on?

“Can you tell me about it?” Claire asked.

Marlee went on to tell her about witnessing her CEO murder her boss, meeting Ben when she ran away, and the problems she had.

“Oh my God, that’s horrible.”

“Yes, it was. But KnightGuard Security came through for me.” She looked around the table. “Similar things happened to Grace, Hailey, and Julie.”

“KnightGuard Security helped you all? ”

The women nodded and took turns telling Claire what had happened to them and how Luke, Danny, and Pete helped them.

Claire sat back and just stared at this remarkable group of women.

Women who appeared normal but had horrific experiences, empowered themselves and met the men of their dreams. Strong and heroic women.

She hadn’t been strong or heroic, just stupid.

But that was in the past. The women made her wonder if she had a chance to be happy.