Author: Amy Vansant
Category: Humorous
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/amy-vansant/page,18,569513-pineapple_turtles.html
On the other hand, she couldn’t remain crouching on her side of the fence until he shot someone, either.
The woman spoke, interrupting her planning.
“It isn’t Josh Jr. I swapped him.”
What?
The words stopped Charlotte as easily as a bullet from that gun would have.
She is the kidnapper. That’s the Bennetts’ baby.
And the husband didn’t know.
Charlotte felt her adrenaline building.
This could be bad. She couldn’t blame the man for being mad his wife had swapped away his baby. But she still couldn’t let him shoot her. Charlotte looked at her watch. It had only been a minute since she talked to 911. It felt like a year ago.
Why did that woman have to confess now?
Certainly, she’d been safer before admitting to stealing a baby. If for no other reason than her husband was less likely to fire at someone holding his child.
His, being the operative word.
Charlotte liked to think no one would fire in the direction of a baby, no matter what its parentage, but experience and news told her anything was possible.
She moved to the fence’s gate and put her hand on the handle.
Here goes nothing.
She was about to call into the yard when she thought about the effect of a stranger’s voice on a man whose whole world had just spun out of control.
She ducked down very low, so low no one would ever think to shoot there.
Hopefully. Probably.
Fingers still on the gate handle, she called out.
“Hey neighbor!”
That sounded friendly. He would be less inclined to shoot his neighbor than a total stranger, right?
There was an awkward pause—though, no gunshot—which buoyed Charlotte’s hopes for a non-violent ending.
“Who’s there?” the man demanded to know.
Charlotte pressed on the latch and eased the door open.
“Hi,” she said, standing and poking her head around the corner. Her muscles tensed, ready to leap behind the fence if he raised his gun.
He tucked his hand behind him to hide the weapon.
Good.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?”
The husband’s eyes looked dead and rimmed with red, as if he had started to cry, too.
Charlotte held up a palm. “My name’s Charlotte Morgan—”
The man pulled the gun from behind his back and pointed it at her.
Nope! Not good!
Charlotte threw her back against the fence and scrambled away on all fours.
“Get back here or I’m going to kill them both!” he screamed. He sounded like a man unhinged.
Charlotte swallowed.
I was afraid he might say something like that.
She looked at her watch again.
Two minutes since her 911 call.
Are you kidding me? Is time going backwards?
“Okay. Easy. I’m coming.”
Charlotte spoke slowly and crept back towards the gate. The longer it took for her to follow his directions, the better chance the police would show up before he had a chance to hurt anyone.
“Hurry,” he said.
She raised her hands so he could see them over the fence and know she was on her way. Peering around the corner, she forced a smile.
“I’m here. We’re all good,” she said. She was going to say there was no reason for him to be angry, but decided he’d have a counter argument for that.
He looked less angry and more frightened now. She liked him better angry. Now, the gun shook in his hand, which didn’t help Charlotte feel better about her chances of avoiding catching lead.
“This is none of your business,” he spat. Literally. Spittle flew everywhere.
Charlotte glanced at the woman. She and the baby had stopped crying. She was shaking, too. Charlotte had the passing thought maybe the woman’s shaking body was what had rocked the baby back to sleep. Being scared almost to death seemed like a rough way to get a child to sleep, but she knew mothers who would be willing to give it a shot in a pinch.
What am I thinking? Stop.
Charlotte returned her focus to the guy with the gun.
Yeah, there you go. He’s sort of important. Now is not the time to distract yourself from the fact your life is in danger.
“It kind of is my business,” she said. Charlotte raised her hands and stepped a little farther through the gate so he could see she wasn’t armed. “I’m here for the baby.”
A motion caught Charlotte’s eye and she turned to see the woman twist away from her, hiding the child from her line of sight with her body.
Does she not understand she can’t keep that boy?
The man lowered the gun a little.
“Can you get Josh Jr. back?” he asked.
“Yes. Absolutely,” said Charlotte, offering her most reassuring smile, though she was unsure she spoke the truth. She imagined the police and child services would give Josh Jr. back to the father, once they confirmed he wasn’t involved in the kidnapping. It might take a while.
Holding people at gunpoint didn’t help his case.
“I’ll tell the police you didn’t have anything to do with this,” she added, working her thought to its conclusion.
The gun raised again, the barrel pointing squarely at her chest.
“What about my wife?” he asked.
Charlotte’s smile took a nose dive.
You mean the woman who gave away your child?
It seemed his loyalty to his wife knew no bounds. Maybe bringing up the authorities hadn’t been the best idea.
“Um…” She looked at the woman, who stared back at her with wide eyes awaiting to hear the verdict. Charlotte tried to take a peek at her watch, but it was too far above her in the air with her hands.
Where are the police?
She needed to slow things down. Keep him talking. Stop saying anything that might ignite the situation.
What I need to do is take a course in hostage negotiation.
“Well, Josh—Your name is Josh, right?”
His right eye twitched. “That’s none of your business.”
“You told her the baby’s name was Josh, Jr.” piped the wife.
The man’s expression exploded on his face, each feature seeming to expand toward a different corner of his face. He swung the gun at his wife.
“You don’t get to talk!” he roared.
The woman yipped and shielded the baby and her head with her arms. Appearing flustered, he trained the weapon back on Charlotte.
“What about her?” he asked again.
Charlotte’s own arms started to quiver and she lowered them a notch. “Temporary insanity? I’m sure she didn’t mean to do it.”
Josh rolled his eyes. “Didn’t mean to do it? How do you accidentally steal a baby?”
He pressed his lips together in a tight, white line, his eyes growing squinty, as if he were trying not to cry.
Charlotte backtracked. “I mean, no, of course it wasn’t an accident. I just meant, she didn’t plan it, right?”
The woman shook her head. “No, I—”
Josh’s gaze shot in his wife’s direction and she slapped her hand over her mouth.
He returned his attention to Charlotte. “Who else knows?”
Crap.
Charlotte hoped he wouldn’t come to the conclusion that killing her would end the lineup of witnesses to their kidnapping. After all, it was possible he and his wife could get away with everything if only she hadn’t popped her head over the fence.
Time for a little hard truth.
“The police are on their way.”
“What?”
“I called them. I’m an off-duty officer.”
And a little lying.
Josh sneered. “No, you didn’t. You’re bluffing.”
“I did. Josh, you don’t want to shoot an officer—”
“Step in here,” he said, beck
oning her with the gun. He paled four shades.
Charlotte frowned, her mind racing to find another way to delay things.
If he could just hear the approaching sirens—
Josh motioned from her to the deck in front of him with his gun. “I said get in here!”
“She’s not going in there.”
The voice came from behind Charlotte. She turned as the weight of the opened gate resting against her arm lifted.
Hunter stood behind her with her own weapon raised, the gun pointed at Josh.
“Put down the gun,” she said out loud and then quieter, she said to Charlotte, “Get behind me.”
Charlotte felt bad putting Hunter in harm’s way, but she was the one with the weapon. She moved aside and let Hunter step forward.
Josh swallowed and glanced at his wife.
“She didn’t mean it. She’d never—”
Hunter answered him, her voice and hands steady. “I’m sure that’s true, but I need you to put down the weapon.”
“Are you a cop?”
“Yes.”
“You are?” asked Charlotte, though to her credit she’d managed to say it quietly.
Hunter didn’t answer, her laser focus never leaving Josh.
“Put down the weapon, take a few steps back and sit in that chair.”
Josh glanced back at a plastic patio chair behind him. He looked at his wife, and his shoulders slumped. He lowered the gun to the porch and took a few steps backward to drop into the seat, collapsing like a boneless sack of flesh. Head lolling, his body shook with sobs.
“I’m so sorry,” said his wife, her voice almost a whisper. Tears streamed down her face.
Josh showed no sign of hearing.
“Get the gun,” said Hunter.
Charlotte blinked at her.
Oh right. You mean me.
She hustled around Hunter to retrieve the gun from the porch.
“You, come here,” said Hunter to the woman. She’d lowered her gun and motioned with her opposite hand.
“Can I go to him?” asked the woman, looking at Josh.
“Not right now. Bring me the baby.”
After a hesitation, the woman walked forward with the child. She handed him to Hunter.
“What’s your name?” asked Hunter.
“Kim.”
“Okay, Kim. I need you to stay here against this fence.”
Charlotte returned with the gun. In the distance, sirens wailed.
“Take him,” said Hunter, handing her the baby.
“What?”
Without thinking, Charlotte put out an arm and Hunter tucked the baby into the crook of it. In her other hand she still held Josh’s gun. Josh sat sobbing on the porch, shoulders heaving with growing intensity. Kim had slid to a squat, her back against the fence, saying “I’m sorry” over and over, her hands covering her face.
“Police are here. Don’t let them near each other,” said Hunter pointing from Josh to Kim and back again before walking down the fence line and away from her.
“Wait, where are you—?”
Without stopping, Hunter turned, put her fingers to her lips asking for quiet, smiled, and then disappeared around the fence.
Charlotte stood staring at the space Hunter had occupied, baby in one hand, gun in the other, the air filled with the sound of police sirens and sobbing.
She looked down at Mason.
“What just happened?”
The baby gurgled and tried to shove his own blue-socked toes into his mouth.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“And then she just walked away?” asked Angelina.
Charlotte nodded.
“Why didn’t you tackle her?” asked Croix from her perch behind the desk. She was starting to remind Charlotte of the old guys from The Muppet Show, constantly heckling her from the booth.
She shifted her eyes in Croix’s direction.
“How was I supposed to tackle her with a baby in one hand and a gun in the other?”
Croix shrugged and muttered as she turned away to busy herself with paperwork. “I could have done it.”
“Siofra would have kicked her butt anyway,” said Angelina.
Charlotte sucked her eye tooth with her tongue. “Thank you. Thank you for your confidence and support.”
Though she was sure Angelina was right.
“Anyway, I still don’t know if she was Siofra.”
Angelina held Harley in front of her face and booped the dog’s impossibly tiny nose against her own. “We do. We know it was Aunt Siofra, don’t we, Harley-girl?” she sang in a baby voice. Harley’s tiny butt trembled with happiness, spurred on by her wagging tail. When Angelina set her on the desk her tiny nails tap-danced with joy.
Charlotte sighed. It had been a long night. The police had naturally wanted to talk to her well into the night. She told the truth without sharing every detail. She didn’t mention the mystery woman who swept in like Superman to save the day might be her aunt. She shared she thought the woman worked for the Bennetts. She imagined if Hunter wanted credit for what she did, she’d get it from them, and if the cops wanted to find her, they could start there.
She still couldn’t figure out how Hunter had known where she was.
She must have been following me.
Did Hunter not trust her to work her half of the plan while she checked the hospitals?
Making idle chit-chat with one of the police officers between interviews, she heard Baby Mason had been reunited with his parents and Josh Jr. had been sent to the father’s parents until everything could be sorted out. She didn’t know what would happen to the mother. It seemed clear to Charlotte the woman had suffered some sort of breakdown, but she was sure the authorities wouldn’t let her walk after she stole a baby.
Charlotte was eager to get back to the Inn, where, exhausted, she slept until nine, when the sound of Angelina’s heels outside her door woke her up. She suspected that had been on purpose. She wanted to hear what happened.
Her time at the Loggerhead Inn had come to an end. Now standing in the lobby with Angelina, she checked the time on the sea turtle-shaped clock hanging on the wall behind Croix’s head. Eleven a.m. If she left now, she could be back in Pineapple Port by two. She opened the location app on her phone to see if Declan was at work and gasped.
“What is it?” asked Angelina.
“Hunter has been tracking my phone.”
“What?”
“She turned on the locating app and approved her connection on my phone.”
Angelina’s brow knit. “How did she do that? She stole your phone?”
“No. I gave it to her.” Charlotte thought back to handing Hunter her phone at the dock.
She must have done it then.
Smooth.
“We’d just met. It never even occurred to me she’d already be plotting ways to track me—”
Croix scoffed. When Charlotte turned to look at her, she looked away, shuffling papers.
Angelina’s gaze dropped to settle on the duffle bag laying at Charlotte’s feet. “So you’re checking out? You’re not going to stay and try and find her?”
Charlotte shook her head.
“No. If she wants to be found she’ll show up.” She glanced back at Croix. “Plus, you have people here much more savvy than me if you want to find her.”
The sound of the sarcasm dripping from her words made Croix look up with a smile.
“Agreed.”
Charlotte held up her phone. “Plus, she can find me anytime she likes.”
Angelina grinned. “You’re not going to turn off the tracking?”
“Nah. Maybe she’ll come to me.”
“It doesn’t work both ways? You can’t track her?”
“No. She’d have to approve my request to track her. But that’s a good idea.” Charlotte submitted a request and stared at her phone to see if anything happened.
Nothing.
She clicked on Declan’s phone and discovered he wasn�
��t at work. He was at her house.
“That’s weird,” she mumbled.
“What?” asked Angelina.
“Oh, nothing. My boyfriend is at my house. I thought he’d be at work by now.”
Angelina shrugged. “He probably misses you.”
Charlotte laughed. “Right. He’s sitting in my living room pining for me, smelling my clothes.”
Angelina tucked Harley under her arm and stood from her place behind the concierge desk. She thrust out her other hand and motioned for Charlotte to come in for a hug.
“Well, it’s been nice meeting you. If Siofra visits, you’ll be the first to know.”
Charlotte gave her a sideways hug and picked up her duffle bag. By the time she’d straightened, Croix had appeared in front of her, her hand thrust out to shake.
“See ya,” she said.
Charlotte shook her hand. “See ya.”
She moved toward the exit. Bracco spotted her coming and opened the door for her.
“It was nice to meet you, Bracco,” she said as she lugged her duffle through the door.
He touched the brim of his cap.
“Yep.”
She stopped and smiled.
He said the right word.
Unwilling to ruin the moment, she nodded and kept moving without pressing for more.
The drive to Pineapple Port proved more brutal than the trip to the east coast had been. Charlotte found herself stuck behind two local trucks going exactly the speed limit through the pasture lands of middle Florida, and later, one tractor going twenty miles less than the speed limit. Luckily, the green behemoth didn’t stay on the road for long, but it still slowed her time. It took her three hours and thirteen minutes instead of the two-fifty-five she’d managed in the other direction.
Excited to surprise Declan, she didn’t call to warn him she was on her way. She checked her phone as she neared Charity and found him still at her house.
Odd. She guessed he’d gone to get something for Abby and accidentally left his phone there. He was probably going crazy looking for it.
She pulled up to her house to find Declan’s car parked at the curb.
An enormous man was on her roof.
She squinted through her sunglasses.
Why is there a giant on my roof?