Page 3 of On the Line

I kept a calm voice, hoping not to alarm Ellie. “You might ought to flip a U. Like now.”

He nodded, jerking the wheel to veer across the road before he braked and slammed it into reverse. I was glad it was him making the three-point-turn in the car that was longer than a bread truck.

“What’s going on?” Ellie craned her neck to look over my shoulder toward the flashing lights in the distance. “Are the police at the party?”

“Looks that way, ” I said, focusing on the road leadingawayfrom the blue lights.

“Why are we running from them?” Ellie asked, confused. “We’re not doing anything wrong. You’re just going back to work.”

Waylan’s voice was calm and confident. “That champagne in the trunk is black market. And we drank half a bottle of rum between us. We don’t need a run-in with the law.”

Despite the jealous sting, I was impressed with Waylan’s quick thinking. “We should get the limo off the road. It draws too much attention.”

Ellie blinked, still straining to see what was going on behind us that we were in such a hurry to avoid. “What if someone’s hurt? Or something bad happened?” Here eyes were wide with worry. “We should go back.”

“If we go back there, Waylan could get arrested for DUI,” I said softly. “And we’ve got bootleg booze in the trunk. We can’t go back there right now.” I patted her knee, hoping to soothe her without letting her in on the real truth. “Don’t worry. Waylan can drop us at a friend’s house for the time being.”

The comfort I offered apparently wasn’t very comforting. Ellie’s hands were wringing in her lap, eyes as wide as saucers. “My aunt’s van is back there. I have to go back.”

My palm covered her delicate hands with a gentle squeeze. “We will, later. I promise. But right now, we’ve got to go.” I turned to Waylan, keeping my voice steady. “Drop us at Sammy’s.”

He nodded, eyes straight ahead and jaw clenched. “Good idea.”

Sammy’s shack was more of a thatched lean-to with an outhouse than an actual shack. I saw his feet swing over the side of a hammock in headlights that shined into the makeshift structure he called home.

Waylan killed the lights.

Sammy lit a kerosene lantern with a match and strolled toward the limo with his head cocked. His smile spread when Waylan lowered the blacked-out glass.

“Hey, Sambo. I wasn’t sure if you’d be here.”

“Yeah, man,” Sammy stroked his scraggly beard. “Where else would I be?”

Sammy acted ancient compared to most 25-year-olds. It didn’t matter that it was a holiday. Sammy would be out shelling in the morning like he did every day. So of course he’d be home.

Waylan shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe a party? It’s New Year’s Eve, dude.”

Sammy’s brow slanted. “I don’t do parties.” He peered inside the limo, over the lowered partition into the back of the car. “You guys partying in the limo?”

Ellie shifted beside me nervously and I had a strong urge to put an arm around her, or a hand on her knee. Instead I gave her little smile and a wink. She eyed me curiously while Waylan shook his head and waited until Sammy looked him in the eye, speaking carefully. “Not exactly. There’s been a little incident at the party we were working for George. The heat is there.”

Sammy’s smile faded as the news registered. “Ah. So you brought his limo here?” He was trying not to sound annoyed that the drug smuggler’s conspicuous vehicle was in his yard.

I felt a pang of guilt since it was my idea. It was kind of a dick move, but it was the safest place I could think to go. “No,” I said, holding up my hands to calm him. “Waylan’s dropping me and Ellie so he can go get the limo off the road, somewhere safe. We just need a place to lay low for a bit.”

Sammy waved me over, but took a stern tone with Waylan. “Get on out of here. And be careful.”

Sammy lit another lantern, illuminating the thatched walls on three sides under a tin roof. “Make yourselves at home. I only have two stools, but I’ve got three hammocks. Have to have spares.” He grinned, trying to make us feel welcome.

“Thanks, man. This is Ellie. Eleanor Russell.”

He smiled. “The Russells are a nice Conch family. Pleased to meet you, Ellie.”

“Thank you, Sammy. Nice to meet you too.” Her eyes wandered around the sparse space. “How long have you lived here?”

“Six months.”

Ellie raised a brow. “Well, you survived hurricane season, so you should be safe for six more.”

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