Wrestling his eyes open yet again, waiting for his wake-up call, his mind wandered to Charli. If she’d followed through with her plans to go to Fort Lauderdale, and he located the house she’d rented, just maybe he’d find her there, warn her… protect her.
If unsuccessful, it wouldn’t be for the lack of trying. The idea of failure brought back the heart palpitations he’d been fighting off ever since he found Mark. He took another sip of his tea.Face it, man. You need to get lost for a while, and what better place?
Not being too stupid, he knew the killer had somehow linked him to Charli, and that wasn’t good. He couldn’t be used to trap his girl. Hell, she’d do anything; even give herself to a killer to save her old popsicle.
Damned if he’d let that happen. The only relief he got from Mark’s death was praying that the killer believed Mark to be him.
***
Late the next day, after sleeping on the various flights and getting wheelchair assistance in the airports, he arrived in Fort Lauderdale. Though the heat sucked the little energy he had left, pure gumption, or what Charli alluded to as his mule-headedness, kept him going. With the help of an accommodating taxi driver, he found a nice hotel, freaked at the outrageous cost for the two nights but forked it over, and rented a boat with a driver to tour the waterways the next morning.
He grinned ruefully and shrugged at the same time. Penny-pinching no longer mattered. He needed to find his girl.