Page 2 of Visions of You

I turned my head as I passed by, pinning him with my gaze until he dropped his eyes. Turning around, he walked to his cot. Facing forward again, I breathed a long sigh, relieved our stupid confrontation was over. Marvin unlocked the metal door and ushered me out of the cell block and into the local police precinct with its white walls and non-descript tile floor. At seven in the morning, the open room was mostly silent.

Maia stood stiffly across the room, both arms tightly crossed over her chest. Her dark hair was up in a messy bun, and her T-shirt was almost as rumpled as mine. She’d hurried to get here. Shame caused my stomach to plummet that she’d had to experience this. As she met my gaze, her eyes flickered up and down my body, presumably searching for injuries.

Marvin swooped over to a desk and picked up a bulging, sealed manila envelope and handed it to me. “Here are your personal belongings. Everything you had on you when we brought you in last night.”

I accepted the envelope, feeling my wallet and keys inside. We continued across the room of desks to stop before my sister. She was tall and had the same dark hair and eyes I did—the Markham signature.

Marvin nodded at both of us. “We’ll be in touch if Ben insists on filing assault charges. Personally, I think it’s best for all of us if he just drops it, but he’s not known for his calm, calculating mind, now is he?”

Marvin’s last words had been directed straight at me.

“Look,” I said, not in the mood to be conciliatory. “I’m not exactly proud of this. But if Ben wants another fight, I’ll give it tohim.”

The deputy snorted. “Well, I’ll see if I can talk him out of it. A night with Jethro singing his fool head off might have cooled him off a little.”

I sighed. “Thanks, Marvin. Let me know.”

We exchanged nods, then I crossed the aisle to stand before my sister. “Thanks for coming. Let’s get out of here.”

Her nod was slow, and she searched my face, her forehead deeply lined.

Yeah, I can’t believe it either.

I pushed through the glass door into a beautiful Florida Keys morning and squeezed my sore, itchy eyes shut as the sun warmed my face. When I opened them, Maia had already marched ahead, her shoulders squared. She pointed her key fob at her late-model SUV and its lights beeped.

I slid into the passenger seat and belted in. “My car is at Salty’s. You can drop me off there and I’ll drive home.”

Maia pushed the start button and whipped her head to me. “Let me see if I got this straight. You went to Salty’s last night and got drunk. Then you got in a bar fight with Ben Coleridge and werearrested?”

“Marvin gave you the scoop, huh?”

“Yeah,” she replied in the same tight voice, backing out of the stall. “When I posted your bond, Gabe.”

I rubbed my face. “It wasn’t my finest moment. I’d had a couple of beers, but I wasn’t drunk. Just in a piss-poor mood. Then Ben showed up and just made it worse. That guy has always had a talent for pushing my buttons.”

The police station was off the main drag in Marathon and Maia headed back toward the highway. “You don’t have a mark on your face. Did he even hit you?”

I prodded my midsection and grimaced. “Yeah. He got a couple good shots in my ribs. But I won the fight.”

Maia barked a laugh. “Well, thank God! After all, that’s the most important thing.”

I couldn’t help smiling, though I could hardly blame her for being pissed at me. “With any luck, Ben won’t press charges, and this will all go away.” None of the Coleridges were worth wasting time over, let alone a whole night in jail.

Nothing but turquoise water lay beneath us as we traversed Seven Mile Bridge. Early morning sunlight sparkled on the water, boats already zooming under the bridge.

“I sure hope so, Gabe. Did you just leave Hailey all alone last night?”

“No!” I whipped my head toward Maia, tightening my jaw. “Nona had already made up a room for her in the Big House, and she wanted to try it out last night. That was the only reason I went to Salty’s in the first place.” Nona was our grandmother and the only mother most of us had ever known.

Except for me. I still remembered.

“And how exactly are you planning on telling your eight-year-old daughter that Daddy spent the night in jail?”

“I’m not. Let’s keep the whole thing between us, all right?”

“Between us?” Maia’s eyes opened wide, and she laughed again. “You got in a bar fight at the local tavern! Everyone in both Calypso Key and Dove Key probably knows by now.”

I breathed a heavy sigh as we pulled off Highway One and headed south. “Yeah, I know. Can you stay quiet for now? At least until I know what I’m facing?”

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