The First Step, page 18
“Thanks.” As always, Justin struggled to find the words. “It means a lot to me, having you here.”
Reed shrugged, but judging by his gentle smile, he liked hearing Justin say it.
BY THE time they made it back to Justin’s house after visiting Marty and stopping by the grocery store, the wind was blowing twenty knots with gusts well above fifty.
“I’ll start working on dinner after I take Leila outside. I want to watch her just in case she decides it’d be fun to explore.” She usually stayed pretty close, but with the storm knocking things out of the trees and birds and squirrels hunkering down in low-lying places, it was safer.
“I’ll cook.” Reed appeared more than pleased with himself. He set down the bags and pulled off his suit jacket, hanging it on the back of one of the wooden chairs.
“I thought you never cooked.” Justin wondered why Reed had paid so much attention to what they’d bought at the store.
“I don’t.” Reed pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and set it on the counter. The recipe was for cheese soufflé and was rated for experienced cooks.
“You think that’s a good idea?”
“I’m perfectly capable of following a recipe.” Reed poked his head into a few cabinets, pulled a few pots and a couple of bowls out, then began to hunt for something else.
“What are you looking for?” Justin asked.
“Something to put over my clothes so I don’t get them all dirty. I only have one clean shirt left, and with the storm coming, who knows when I’m going to get my laundry back from the hotel.”
Justin grinned, pointed to one of the drawers near the sink, and waited, doing his best not to laugh.
“Are you serious?” Reed looked adorable when he pouted.
“That’s the only one I have.” Kerry had used it when she’d made him a birthday dinner a few years before. Justin figured one of the boys had decided it would be funny to leave behind.
“Floral? With ruffles?” Reed turned up his nose as though he smelled rotting fish.
“No one will know but us.” Justin winked.
“That’s bad enough.” He held it up to his chest and batted his lashes at Justin, who did his best not to, but burst out laughing.
Reed pulled the apron over his head and tied it behind him, then put his hands on his hips and sauntered over to Justin before he, too, was laughing until tears ran down his cheeks.
“You know,” Justin said as he wiped his eyes, “it’d be much better if you weren’t wearing those shorts underneath.”
“We could take care of that.” He reached under the apron and unzipped the fly, shimmying out of them and kicking off his loafers until he wore nothing but the apron from the waist down.
“Much better.” The apron, vile thing that it was, looked damn good on Reed. With his ass hanging out like that, anything would look good. “But how about turning around so I can get the full effect?”
Reed took his sweet time, milking it for all it was worth, then braced himself against the counter. “How’s this?” He wiggled his ass for effect.
Justin grinned and sidled up to Reed. “Hey, sweetie, are you what’s on the menu for dinner?”
“Shut up and fuck me.”
“With pleasure. Just stay there for a minute. I’ll be right back.” When Justin got back from snagging the lube and condom from the bedroom, Reed was still waiting.
“You do know this is going to delay our dinner, right?”
“You weren’t really going to try making a soufflé, were you?” Justin countered.
Reed chuckled. “Probably not the best thing to try when my dinner repertoire’s limited to microwave meals, is it?”
“I appreciate the sentiment. If you really want to try it, though, why don’t we cook it together?”
“Deal. But what’s for dinner?” Reed asked.
“I’ve got some shrimp we can boil later.” Justin pulled Reed close and squeezed his ass. “Besides, who needs food when I have you?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
THEY WOKE before sunrise, ate a quick breakfast, then headed outside to finish preparing the house for the storm. The sky was an ominous gray streaked with a reddish tinge that reminded Reed of blood. Reed had checked the forecast. Hurricane Florence was still swirling off the coast, a monster far larger than anyone had expected.
“Hand me the drill again?” Justin stood on a ladder by one of the shutters. They’d spent the past forty-five minutes screwing the shutters closed. “They’ll probably hold with just the latches,” Justin had said before they’d started, “but it can’t hurt. Besides, one of these babies can do a lot of damage if it flies off and hits someone’s house or car.”
Justin had already taken care of sandbagging the area around the garage, which was the lowest-lying spot on the property, so the only job left after they finished the shutters was moving Justin’s boat project into the garage. It was also the most difficult.
“Shit. This thing is heavy,” Reed groaned as they lifted the boat off the sawhorses and slowly worked their way over the muddy grass and inside. The concrete slab was damp but at least a few inches above the ground. “You think it’s going to be safe here?”
Justin shrugged. “Even if we get some water in here, it’ll be fine. Lord knows it’s been sitting outside for a decade or more. A little more water isn’t going to hurt it.”
“You’re worried the roof might collapse.” Reed looked up. The rafters seemed sturdy enough, but some of the wood on the sides of the building was well-weathered.
“Yep. Although I reinforced it when I bought the place. Still, it’s not exactly hurricane resistant. Only thing in its favor is the winds seem to be dying down a little from what they were.”
Last Reed had seen, the storm had been downgraded from a Category Four to a Category Three and was anticipated to make landfall at a Category One.
“We’ll secure her best we can.” Justin pointed to some heavy-duty straps, and they worked for a few minutes more to attach the boat and sawhorses to some of the studs near the foundation.
Outside, the wind had already snapped some of the smaller crape myrtle trees in Justin’s front yard. Justin shook his head as he inspected the damage. A small pickup truck stopped on the street and Justin waved. The driver rolled down his window. “You stayin’ put?” he asked.
“That’s the plan. I moved the boat upriver, and I think we’ve done all we can here.” Justin gestured to Reed. “Reed, this is Kevin McPherson. He’s one of my neighbors.”
“Good to meet you.” The wind was blowing too hard for Reed to shake the man’s hand. “Where’re you headed?”
“Rocky Mount. Got me a hotel. Wife’s already there with the dog and the mother-in-law. You two be safe, okay?” Kevin rolled up the window and drove off.
At nearly eleven, Reed hopped into the shower. He’d been ready to get dressed in his last clean shirt when he found a small pile of neatly folded clothes on Justin’s bed. “When did you do this?”
Justin grinned. “Started it this morning before we went out. I figured if we’re going to lose power, we might as well smell good. The generator can’t handle big appliances.”
“Thanks.” Reed pulled on a pair of jeans and a polo shirt and slipped barefoot into his slightly damp boat shoes. No need to wear socks when your feet were going to get soaked anyhow.
“You headed down to the beach?” Justin asked.
“That’s the plan. Interview anyone who’s stayed and try to get some shots.” Reed reached into the front closet for his windbreaker.
“That isn’t gonna do it.” Justin reached behind him, leaning in to kiss his neck, and pulled out a blue-and-white jacket.
“I’m impressed.” Reed turned and kissed Justin.
“Never waste an opportunity.” Justin shot him a cockeyed grin and handed him the jacket. “Waterproof and Gore-Tex. It’ll keep you a lot drier than yours.”
“Thanks.” The jacket was a little big, so Reed folded up the cuffs. It wasn’t just the jacket that made Reed feel warmer.
“You really going out in this mess?” Justin asked.
Reed grabbed his camera from the kitchen counter and slung it around his neck. “It’s my job.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll be back by three, latest, and we can hunker down for the rest of the storm. How’s that sound?”
Justin didn’t look pleased. “I could come with you.”
“Thanks, but no. You’re way too distracting.” This was true, but it wasn’t because of the sexual tension between them. The accident and the way he’d worried when Justin made his last transfer left Reed off-balance. He felt more grounded knowing Justin would be safe and sound at home.
“I won’t get in the way of any of your interviews.” Justin raised his eyebrows and pressed his lips together.
“I wasn’t worried about you distracting my interview subjects.” Reed smiled. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine. Besides, weren’t you talking about cooking up the rest of the stuff in your freezer in case the power goes out? Cold steaks are better than frozen uncooked ones.”
“Fine. I get it. You don’t want me in the way.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re cute when you don’t get your way?” Reed asked.
“Nope. Ornery bastard’s usually what I get.”
Reed pulled Justin close and held him for a long moment. “Thanks for worrying about me,” he said against Justin’s cheek. He was out the door a few seconds later, headed for the beach.
Chapter Thirty-Three
JUSTIN HADN’T mentioned it to Reed, but he’d already defrosted the contents of his fridge. He spent the next few hours cooking up a dozen steaks, steaming the stash of frozen shrimp Kerry had given him before she and the family left town, and baking the pile of frozen baguettes he’d picked up at Costco a few months back but had never gotten around to eating.
Once he’d finished cooking, he pulled two large coolers out of the garage and brought them inside. He had enough ice in the garage freezer to fill them several times over, but he’d wait to see what happened with the power. The freezer and fridge would keep cold for hours so long as he and Reed didn’t open the doors too often, but it was nice to know there was a backup.
Around two thirty, he took Leila around the neighborhood. He figured they wouldn’t be going far until the winds died down, and this was her last chance to get some real exercise. Already water was pooling in the ditch on the side of the highway a few blocks away. Much more and the water would overflow onto the asphalt.
Judging by the dark houses, only a few of his neighbors had decided to ride out the storm. At least here, he could reach the port relatively easily even if he couldn’t make it to Southport.
Back inside, he toweled Leila off, pulled off his rain boots, and hung his dripping rain jacket in the guest bedroom shower stall. He turned on the TV and watched Anderson Cooper reporting live from Wilmington.
He awoke to the sound of something banging against the side of the house. Leila, who’d been asleep next to him on the couch, hopped up, ready to go out with him. “You stay here, girl. I’ll be right back.”
He grabbed his jacket, tied the hood tight around his face, and opened the back door. The screen door slammed open, hitting the wooden shingles, but thankfully it held and he was able to latch it again. The darkness outside took him by surprise. Rain sheeted sideways, stinging the uncovered parts of his face.
He walked around the deck to where he’d heard the noise and found a deck chair—not his—bouncing up and down on the lawn and smacking against the house. He grabbed the chair and shoved it underneath the deck where it was reasonably protected from the wind. He’d find its owner later, but at least it wouldn’t be flying around and doing damage.
He shed his coat and glanced at the clock on the stove. Nearly four. Reed was supposed to have been back an hour ago.
“Shit.” He picked up his phone and tapped the preset for Reed’s number.
“This is Reed Barfield. I’m sorry I can’t take your call now. Please leave your name and number and a brief message, and I’ll be back in touch as soon as I can. Thanks.”
“Shit. Where the hell are you, Reed? Call me back when you get this message.” He disconnected the call, then took a long breath and shoved his hands in his pockets. Another few breaths, and his anger eased a bit.
He waited a few minutes and dialed Reed again. “Hey, Reed. It’s looking pretty bad out there. Let me know you’re okay.”
He spent the next ten minutes pacing back and forth in the living room. He couldn’t see anything outside except through the small cut-glass panes on the top of the front door, but things were looking far worse than when he’d been outside. Tree branches, still with green leaves, circled the pavement in front of the house. The lights inside flickered with every gust.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
Leila wagged her tail, probably noticing Justin was still wearing his boots. “Not now, girl.” He’d feed her when he got back with Reed.
He rummaged around his bedroom closet until he found the old offshore bib overalls and squall jacket he’d kept when he’d purchased a new set a few years back. He’d laughed at himself for not tossing them, but now he was thankful. A couple of minutes later, he was headed out to the truck with a backpack filled with an emergency blanket, several flashlights, and a bottle of water.
The truck’s wipers couldn’t keep up with the rain, even at high speed. Justin crawled along the residential streets, dodging tree limbs and more pieces of lawn furniture. One of the streets nearest to the beach was already flooded and nearly impassable, so he drove around several blocks to find a better route. What should have been a five-minute drive took nearly fifteen.
He checked his phone to see if Reed had responded, then called him again. Still no answer. He texted, then waited a minute before shoving the phone into the waterproof pocket on the front of the bibs and heading out into the storm.
“Dammit, Reed. Where the hell are you?” He sucked in a few more breaths until he regained control. Getting angry with Reed wasn’t going to help. He needed to keep his shit together.
Trees bent in the wind. Some had already snapped in two, and several more were uprooted and lying across the sidewalk. He reached the pier, where the waves were hitting so hard, the spray shot fifty feet into the air before splashing back down on the wooden structure.
“Reed!” He had to be around here somewhere. The storefronts were all dark and boarded up, and other than a lone car someone had left in one of the parking lots, there didn’t seem to be anyone around.
“Reed!”
A New Hanover County Sheriff’s cruiser made its way down Carolina Beach Avenue toward the pier and stopped in front of Justin. “Justin, what’re you doin’ out here?” Justin knew most local law enforcement, but Jesse Freeman was also a good friend.
“Looking for someone. You seen anyone wandering around with a camera? Blue-and-white jacket?”
Jesse shook his head. “You need a ride? We can look together.”
“Nah. Better to have both of us looking for him.” The streetlights went out. He rummaged through his backpack and pulled out the largest of the flashlights he’d packed—a spotlight he sometimes brought sailing.
“You sure you’re gonna be okay out here?” Jesse didn’t seem convinced.
“I’ll be fine. My friend, though….”
“We’ll find him.” Jesse offered Justin a reassuring smile. “What’s his name?”
“Reed Barfield. He’s wearing a blue-and-white jacket. About five ten.”
“You tried calling him?”
Justin shook his head. “Texted him too. Nothing.”
“Some of the towers are out,” Jesse said. “Could be he has no reception.”
Justin gritted his teeth and prayed that was the reason. “I’ll check around the beach. Call me if you find him in town, okay?”
“Sure will. You let me know if you catch up with him. There’s been nothing on dispatch, but I’ll radio it in just in case someone’s seen ’im.”
“Thanks.”
“Stay safe, Justin. I know you’re a tough mother, but—”
“I got this.” Justin smiled and headed down to the water.
Chapter Thirty-Four
REED BRUSHED the salt water out of his eyes and followed the dune farther down the beach. Here, where the buildings were farther back, he could get a clean shot of the pier with the waves smashing over the top.
He’d bumped into a few other reporters, television mostly. They’d all asked the few stragglers why they were staying. This one had lived through eight hurricanes and wasn’t worried about another. That one wanted to keep an eye on the neighborhood. A few just didn’t have a place to go and refused to camp out at one of the shelters the local government had opened in schools and public buildings. Same old questions, same answers.
He’d found Vic standing on the beach not far from the pier. He was friendly enough, nodding to Reed as he slipped off his shoes and walked barefoot toward him.
“I’m Reed Barfield.”
“Vic Walton.” His weathered, tanned skin wrinkled as his lips turned upward.
They shook hands and stood in silence while Vic looked out to sea.
“What’re you looking at?” Reed asked after a few minutes passed.
Vic shrugged. “What’s there to look at other than the ocean?”
“Not much, I’ll give you that.” Reed smiled. “You from around here?”
Vic nodded. “You?”
“New York.”
“You’re one of them reporters, aren’t ye?” Vic didn’t seem irritated; if anything he seemed uninterested.
“Sort of. I came here for something else, and they asked me to stay and report on the storm.”
“Oh.”
The surf roared, and the resulting wave touched Reed’s bare feet.
“Feels good, don’t it?” Vic’s blue eyes shone, even in the semidarkness.
“It does.”
Reed shrugged, but judging by his gentle smile, he liked hearing Justin say it.
BY THE time they made it back to Justin’s house after visiting Marty and stopping by the grocery store, the wind was blowing twenty knots with gusts well above fifty.
“I’ll start working on dinner after I take Leila outside. I want to watch her just in case she decides it’d be fun to explore.” She usually stayed pretty close, but with the storm knocking things out of the trees and birds and squirrels hunkering down in low-lying places, it was safer.
“I’ll cook.” Reed appeared more than pleased with himself. He set down the bags and pulled off his suit jacket, hanging it on the back of one of the wooden chairs.
“I thought you never cooked.” Justin wondered why Reed had paid so much attention to what they’d bought at the store.
“I don’t.” Reed pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and set it on the counter. The recipe was for cheese soufflé and was rated for experienced cooks.
“You think that’s a good idea?”
“I’m perfectly capable of following a recipe.” Reed poked his head into a few cabinets, pulled a few pots and a couple of bowls out, then began to hunt for something else.
“What are you looking for?” Justin asked.
“Something to put over my clothes so I don’t get them all dirty. I only have one clean shirt left, and with the storm coming, who knows when I’m going to get my laundry back from the hotel.”
Justin grinned, pointed to one of the drawers near the sink, and waited, doing his best not to laugh.
“Are you serious?” Reed looked adorable when he pouted.
“That’s the only one I have.” Kerry had used it when she’d made him a birthday dinner a few years before. Justin figured one of the boys had decided it would be funny to leave behind.
“Floral? With ruffles?” Reed turned up his nose as though he smelled rotting fish.
“No one will know but us.” Justin winked.
“That’s bad enough.” He held it up to his chest and batted his lashes at Justin, who did his best not to, but burst out laughing.
Reed pulled the apron over his head and tied it behind him, then put his hands on his hips and sauntered over to Justin before he, too, was laughing until tears ran down his cheeks.
“You know,” Justin said as he wiped his eyes, “it’d be much better if you weren’t wearing those shorts underneath.”
“We could take care of that.” He reached under the apron and unzipped the fly, shimmying out of them and kicking off his loafers until he wore nothing but the apron from the waist down.
“Much better.” The apron, vile thing that it was, looked damn good on Reed. With his ass hanging out like that, anything would look good. “But how about turning around so I can get the full effect?”
Reed took his sweet time, milking it for all it was worth, then braced himself against the counter. “How’s this?” He wiggled his ass for effect.
Justin grinned and sidled up to Reed. “Hey, sweetie, are you what’s on the menu for dinner?”
“Shut up and fuck me.”
“With pleasure. Just stay there for a minute. I’ll be right back.” When Justin got back from snagging the lube and condom from the bedroom, Reed was still waiting.
“You do know this is going to delay our dinner, right?”
“You weren’t really going to try making a soufflé, were you?” Justin countered.
Reed chuckled. “Probably not the best thing to try when my dinner repertoire’s limited to microwave meals, is it?”
“I appreciate the sentiment. If you really want to try it, though, why don’t we cook it together?”
“Deal. But what’s for dinner?” Reed asked.
“I’ve got some shrimp we can boil later.” Justin pulled Reed close and squeezed his ass. “Besides, who needs food when I have you?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
THEY WOKE before sunrise, ate a quick breakfast, then headed outside to finish preparing the house for the storm. The sky was an ominous gray streaked with a reddish tinge that reminded Reed of blood. Reed had checked the forecast. Hurricane Florence was still swirling off the coast, a monster far larger than anyone had expected.
“Hand me the drill again?” Justin stood on a ladder by one of the shutters. They’d spent the past forty-five minutes screwing the shutters closed. “They’ll probably hold with just the latches,” Justin had said before they’d started, “but it can’t hurt. Besides, one of these babies can do a lot of damage if it flies off and hits someone’s house or car.”
Justin had already taken care of sandbagging the area around the garage, which was the lowest-lying spot on the property, so the only job left after they finished the shutters was moving Justin’s boat project into the garage. It was also the most difficult.
“Shit. This thing is heavy,” Reed groaned as they lifted the boat off the sawhorses and slowly worked their way over the muddy grass and inside. The concrete slab was damp but at least a few inches above the ground. “You think it’s going to be safe here?”
Justin shrugged. “Even if we get some water in here, it’ll be fine. Lord knows it’s been sitting outside for a decade or more. A little more water isn’t going to hurt it.”
“You’re worried the roof might collapse.” Reed looked up. The rafters seemed sturdy enough, but some of the wood on the sides of the building was well-weathered.
“Yep. Although I reinforced it when I bought the place. Still, it’s not exactly hurricane resistant. Only thing in its favor is the winds seem to be dying down a little from what they were.”
Last Reed had seen, the storm had been downgraded from a Category Four to a Category Three and was anticipated to make landfall at a Category One.
“We’ll secure her best we can.” Justin pointed to some heavy-duty straps, and they worked for a few minutes more to attach the boat and sawhorses to some of the studs near the foundation.
Outside, the wind had already snapped some of the smaller crape myrtle trees in Justin’s front yard. Justin shook his head as he inspected the damage. A small pickup truck stopped on the street and Justin waved. The driver rolled down his window. “You stayin’ put?” he asked.
“That’s the plan. I moved the boat upriver, and I think we’ve done all we can here.” Justin gestured to Reed. “Reed, this is Kevin McPherson. He’s one of my neighbors.”
“Good to meet you.” The wind was blowing too hard for Reed to shake the man’s hand. “Where’re you headed?”
“Rocky Mount. Got me a hotel. Wife’s already there with the dog and the mother-in-law. You two be safe, okay?” Kevin rolled up the window and drove off.
At nearly eleven, Reed hopped into the shower. He’d been ready to get dressed in his last clean shirt when he found a small pile of neatly folded clothes on Justin’s bed. “When did you do this?”
Justin grinned. “Started it this morning before we went out. I figured if we’re going to lose power, we might as well smell good. The generator can’t handle big appliances.”
“Thanks.” Reed pulled on a pair of jeans and a polo shirt and slipped barefoot into his slightly damp boat shoes. No need to wear socks when your feet were going to get soaked anyhow.
“You headed down to the beach?” Justin asked.
“That’s the plan. Interview anyone who’s stayed and try to get some shots.” Reed reached into the front closet for his windbreaker.
“That isn’t gonna do it.” Justin reached behind him, leaning in to kiss his neck, and pulled out a blue-and-white jacket.
“I’m impressed.” Reed turned and kissed Justin.
“Never waste an opportunity.” Justin shot him a cockeyed grin and handed him the jacket. “Waterproof and Gore-Tex. It’ll keep you a lot drier than yours.”
“Thanks.” The jacket was a little big, so Reed folded up the cuffs. It wasn’t just the jacket that made Reed feel warmer.
“You really going out in this mess?” Justin asked.
Reed grabbed his camera from the kitchen counter and slung it around his neck. “It’s my job.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll be back by three, latest, and we can hunker down for the rest of the storm. How’s that sound?”
Justin didn’t look pleased. “I could come with you.”
“Thanks, but no. You’re way too distracting.” This was true, but it wasn’t because of the sexual tension between them. The accident and the way he’d worried when Justin made his last transfer left Reed off-balance. He felt more grounded knowing Justin would be safe and sound at home.
“I won’t get in the way of any of your interviews.” Justin raised his eyebrows and pressed his lips together.
“I wasn’t worried about you distracting my interview subjects.” Reed smiled. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine. Besides, weren’t you talking about cooking up the rest of the stuff in your freezer in case the power goes out? Cold steaks are better than frozen uncooked ones.”
“Fine. I get it. You don’t want me in the way.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re cute when you don’t get your way?” Reed asked.
“Nope. Ornery bastard’s usually what I get.”
Reed pulled Justin close and held him for a long moment. “Thanks for worrying about me,” he said against Justin’s cheek. He was out the door a few seconds later, headed for the beach.
Chapter Thirty-Three
JUSTIN HADN’T mentioned it to Reed, but he’d already defrosted the contents of his fridge. He spent the next few hours cooking up a dozen steaks, steaming the stash of frozen shrimp Kerry had given him before she and the family left town, and baking the pile of frozen baguettes he’d picked up at Costco a few months back but had never gotten around to eating.
Once he’d finished cooking, he pulled two large coolers out of the garage and brought them inside. He had enough ice in the garage freezer to fill them several times over, but he’d wait to see what happened with the power. The freezer and fridge would keep cold for hours so long as he and Reed didn’t open the doors too often, but it was nice to know there was a backup.
Around two thirty, he took Leila around the neighborhood. He figured they wouldn’t be going far until the winds died down, and this was her last chance to get some real exercise. Already water was pooling in the ditch on the side of the highway a few blocks away. Much more and the water would overflow onto the asphalt.
Judging by the dark houses, only a few of his neighbors had decided to ride out the storm. At least here, he could reach the port relatively easily even if he couldn’t make it to Southport.
Back inside, he toweled Leila off, pulled off his rain boots, and hung his dripping rain jacket in the guest bedroom shower stall. He turned on the TV and watched Anderson Cooper reporting live from Wilmington.
He awoke to the sound of something banging against the side of the house. Leila, who’d been asleep next to him on the couch, hopped up, ready to go out with him. “You stay here, girl. I’ll be right back.”
He grabbed his jacket, tied the hood tight around his face, and opened the back door. The screen door slammed open, hitting the wooden shingles, but thankfully it held and he was able to latch it again. The darkness outside took him by surprise. Rain sheeted sideways, stinging the uncovered parts of his face.
He walked around the deck to where he’d heard the noise and found a deck chair—not his—bouncing up and down on the lawn and smacking against the house. He grabbed the chair and shoved it underneath the deck where it was reasonably protected from the wind. He’d find its owner later, but at least it wouldn’t be flying around and doing damage.
He shed his coat and glanced at the clock on the stove. Nearly four. Reed was supposed to have been back an hour ago.
“Shit.” He picked up his phone and tapped the preset for Reed’s number.
“This is Reed Barfield. I’m sorry I can’t take your call now. Please leave your name and number and a brief message, and I’ll be back in touch as soon as I can. Thanks.”
“Shit. Where the hell are you, Reed? Call me back when you get this message.” He disconnected the call, then took a long breath and shoved his hands in his pockets. Another few breaths, and his anger eased a bit.
He waited a few minutes and dialed Reed again. “Hey, Reed. It’s looking pretty bad out there. Let me know you’re okay.”
He spent the next ten minutes pacing back and forth in the living room. He couldn’t see anything outside except through the small cut-glass panes on the top of the front door, but things were looking far worse than when he’d been outside. Tree branches, still with green leaves, circled the pavement in front of the house. The lights inside flickered with every gust.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
Leila wagged her tail, probably noticing Justin was still wearing his boots. “Not now, girl.” He’d feed her when he got back with Reed.
He rummaged around his bedroom closet until he found the old offshore bib overalls and squall jacket he’d kept when he’d purchased a new set a few years back. He’d laughed at himself for not tossing them, but now he was thankful. A couple of minutes later, he was headed out to the truck with a backpack filled with an emergency blanket, several flashlights, and a bottle of water.
The truck’s wipers couldn’t keep up with the rain, even at high speed. Justin crawled along the residential streets, dodging tree limbs and more pieces of lawn furniture. One of the streets nearest to the beach was already flooded and nearly impassable, so he drove around several blocks to find a better route. What should have been a five-minute drive took nearly fifteen.
He checked his phone to see if Reed had responded, then called him again. Still no answer. He texted, then waited a minute before shoving the phone into the waterproof pocket on the front of the bibs and heading out into the storm.
“Dammit, Reed. Where the hell are you?” He sucked in a few more breaths until he regained control. Getting angry with Reed wasn’t going to help. He needed to keep his shit together.
Trees bent in the wind. Some had already snapped in two, and several more were uprooted and lying across the sidewalk. He reached the pier, where the waves were hitting so hard, the spray shot fifty feet into the air before splashing back down on the wooden structure.
“Reed!” He had to be around here somewhere. The storefronts were all dark and boarded up, and other than a lone car someone had left in one of the parking lots, there didn’t seem to be anyone around.
“Reed!”
A New Hanover County Sheriff’s cruiser made its way down Carolina Beach Avenue toward the pier and stopped in front of Justin. “Justin, what’re you doin’ out here?” Justin knew most local law enforcement, but Jesse Freeman was also a good friend.
“Looking for someone. You seen anyone wandering around with a camera? Blue-and-white jacket?”
Jesse shook his head. “You need a ride? We can look together.”
“Nah. Better to have both of us looking for him.” The streetlights went out. He rummaged through his backpack and pulled out the largest of the flashlights he’d packed—a spotlight he sometimes brought sailing.
“You sure you’re gonna be okay out here?” Jesse didn’t seem convinced.
“I’ll be fine. My friend, though….”
“We’ll find him.” Jesse offered Justin a reassuring smile. “What’s his name?”
“Reed Barfield. He’s wearing a blue-and-white jacket. About five ten.”
“You tried calling him?”
Justin shook his head. “Texted him too. Nothing.”
“Some of the towers are out,” Jesse said. “Could be he has no reception.”
Justin gritted his teeth and prayed that was the reason. “I’ll check around the beach. Call me if you find him in town, okay?”
“Sure will. You let me know if you catch up with him. There’s been nothing on dispatch, but I’ll radio it in just in case someone’s seen ’im.”
“Thanks.”
“Stay safe, Justin. I know you’re a tough mother, but—”
“I got this.” Justin smiled and headed down to the water.
Chapter Thirty-Four
REED BRUSHED the salt water out of his eyes and followed the dune farther down the beach. Here, where the buildings were farther back, he could get a clean shot of the pier with the waves smashing over the top.
He’d bumped into a few other reporters, television mostly. They’d all asked the few stragglers why they were staying. This one had lived through eight hurricanes and wasn’t worried about another. That one wanted to keep an eye on the neighborhood. A few just didn’t have a place to go and refused to camp out at one of the shelters the local government had opened in schools and public buildings. Same old questions, same answers.
He’d found Vic standing on the beach not far from the pier. He was friendly enough, nodding to Reed as he slipped off his shoes and walked barefoot toward him.
“I’m Reed Barfield.”
“Vic Walton.” His weathered, tanned skin wrinkled as his lips turned upward.
They shook hands and stood in silence while Vic looked out to sea.
“What’re you looking at?” Reed asked after a few minutes passed.
Vic shrugged. “What’s there to look at other than the ocean?”
“Not much, I’ll give you that.” Reed smiled. “You from around here?”
Vic nodded. “You?”
“New York.”
“You’re one of them reporters, aren’t ye?” Vic didn’t seem irritated; if anything he seemed uninterested.
“Sort of. I came here for something else, and they asked me to stay and report on the storm.”
“Oh.”
The surf roared, and the resulting wave touched Reed’s bare feet.
“Feels good, don’t it?” Vic’s blue eyes shone, even in the semidarkness.
“It does.”
