Christmas in Key West

Dressed in a standard police uniform, he walked toward her. “I hear Huey came home last night. How’s he doing?”

“He’s okay.”

Reese gave her a lopsided smile. “Then you’re not going to sue me or the department?”

Once she’d had a chance to consider Reese’s explanation, Abby had reached the conclusion that his story was probably closer to the truth than her father’s. Huey’s version had included such colorful phrases as “rough-necked bully” and “power-hungry tyrant,” while he referred to himself as “innocent victim.” But not knowing Reese’s reason for showing up this morning, she simply said, “I’m keeping my options open.”

Reese smiled again and glanced around the yard. “I see the trash has been removed.”

She gave him a smug look. “Of course. We’re law abiding residents of Key West, Reese. Ones who should not have to be fearful of being arrested.”

He nodded. “Nope. Not anymore. Not about this, at least.”

“Gee, it’s nice that the police department is sending out one of its finest to follow up with surveillance of some of the most dangerous citizens.”

“That’s not why I’m here—exactly,” he said.

“Oh?”

He held out his hand. “You wouldn’t shake with me last night. I thought I’d try again.” When she didn’t move, he added, “It’s been years, Abby.”

She relented, clasped his hand and stared at the long fingers wrapped around hers. Bits of twigs and soil stuck to their joined palms. She pulled her hand back and wiped it against her jeans. He did the same. “Cleaning the yard, I see.”

She swiped her rake across the dirt. “You cops don’t miss a clue, do you?”

Reese folded his arms over his chest. “So how have you been?”

How have I been? Abby marveled at how absurdly casual his question was in light of what her life had been like since she’d last seen him. But of course, Reese never thought of that night. He’d had thirteen years to forget. She’d had thirteen years to remember. And regret.

She answered blandly, though her heartbeat pounded in her ears, nearly deafening her. “Fine.” Ironically, in spite of the churning in her stomach now, that was mostly true—or should be. She had a fulfilling job, many friends and nice neighbors. And past relationships that didn’t linger overlong in her mind when they ended. She had offers for dates that she sometimes accepted. In fact, her life was so busy she didn’t allow herself to think about what was missing in it or what had gone wrong.

He looked toward the house, his features indicating a sort of benign acceptance. “I know Loretta called you. I’m sorry for putting both of you in the middle of this problem with your father.”

Abby’s back immediately stiffened—an involuntary reaction she experienced when dealing with anyone who even hinted that something might be wrong with Huey. “There’s no problem. Poppy seems okay to me. But if it makes you feel any better about interfering in people’s lives, I can tell you that we’re working on a few things.”

“I don’t want this situation to get blown out of proportion, Abby. I have a job to do. You know that, don’t you?”

She pretended to concentrate on her work. “I wonder how many acts of aggression have been committed under the guise of that excuse.”

He started to respond, but she added, “It’s okay, Reese.

You have to protect the people of Key West from the threatening presence of a confused senior citizen. It must be a mammoth responsibility.”

He rubbed his thumb over his clean-shaven chin and stared at her a moment, as though trying to decide if her sarcasm was for real. After a moment, he said, “I can’t imagine why we haven’t run into each other in the seven years since I’ve been back.”

“I don’t return to the island often,” she said. At least, I haven’t in the past seven years.

“How long you planning to stay this visit?”

She glared at him determinedly. “As long as it takes to get the authorities off my father’s case.”

His lips curled into a genuine grin. “It’s a great time of year to be here. Decorations are going up on Duval Street and Mallory Square today. Plans are under way for the Christmas boat parade. You’ll see a lot you remember about the holidays, plus some new additions.”

“Can’t wait,” she said. How nice for Reese to chat about holiday decorations as if he weren’t on a one-man mission to pester Huey into having the worst Christmas ever.

Deciding they’d had enough small talk,Abby was about to release Reese from this obligatory visit when her father shouted, “Scram!”A single word delivered from the veranda with enough force to approximate a shot from a rifle.

Startled, Abby spun around. Reese, seemingly unconcerned, took a slow step toward the porch. “’Morning, Huey,” he said.

“Get off my property, Burkett!”

Huey filled the front entrance. His old shotgun rested against his right elbow, the barrel pointed toward the porch floor.

Abby rushed to him. “Poppy, what are you doing?”

He had the good sense to set the weapon against the door frame. “Reminding certain people that this is Vernay property.”

She grabbed the gun and put it out of his reach. “Do you always greet visitors by threatening them with firepower?”

“Mostly just pain-in-the-ass police captains.” He stared at her, obviously noting her shocked expression. “It’s not loaded, Abby. I keep it for show.”

She opened the breech of the shotgun he’d taught her to use years ago, and looked down the barrel. To her relief, he was being truthful. It was empty. “Someone could see you with this thing and get the wrong impression.”

“No, they wouldn’t,” Huey said, his good eye narrowed at Reese. “They’d get just the impression I want them to have.”

Huey appeared determined to make her efforts on his behalf impossibly difficult. She took the gun inside the house and came back to the porch. “Reese, I didn’t know about this.”

He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. He’s got the proper paperwork for that old thing, and everybody’s aware that he doesn’t have shells for it.”

“That you flatfoots know about, anyway,” Huey said. “Just because you sent Loretta over here to search doesn’t mean she found every bit of contraband.” When Abby started to protest, he waved off her concern and whispered, “Keep your cool, Abigail. If I even have bullets, I don’t remember where they are.”

Reese looked down at the sidewalk and shook his head. Abby couldn’t help sympathizing with his plight for just that moment. Huey didn’t make keeping the peace on Southard Street easy.

“You folks have a nice morning,” Reese said, heading back to his squad car. “You need anything, just call the station.”

“That’ll be the day,” Huey couldn’t resist replying.

STILL SHAKING FROM a tumult of emotions she’d hoped not to experience, Abby sat on the porch steps and dropped her head in her hands. “For heaven’s sake, Poppy, that whole thing with the shotgun was embarrassing.”

Huey leaned against a support pole and looked down at her. “Don’t be embarrassed by anything having to do with Reese Burkett. That man ruined your life.”

She sighed. “He didn’t ruin anything. My life is perfectly fine.” As long as I don’t allow my thoughts to go back more than twelve years.

“Well, he ruined mine, and I’d hate to think you were having any romantic notions about him.”

She turned her head to give her father a cold stare. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“He’s the wrong guy for you to be fantasizing about.”