Nicholas Sparks - Safe Haven

Back in the car, he drank more vodka, not caring that it was now the temperature of a cup of coffee. As long as it made the pain go away. It was too hot to think and he could have been on his way back to Dorchester if Erin had been home. Maybe when he brought Erin back and Bill realized how happy they were together, he would give him his job back. He was a good detective and Bill needed him.

As he drank, the throbbing in his temples began to recede, but he started to see two of everything when he knew there should be only one. He needed to keep his mind sharp, but the pain and the heat were making him sick and he didn’t know what to do.

He started the car and turned onto the main road, heading back to downtown Southport. Many streets were closed off and he made countless detours before he found a spot to park. No shade for miles, just sun and endless, stifling heat. He felt like he might vomit.

He thought about Erin and where she might be. Ivan’s? At the carnival? He should have called to ask whether she was working today, should have stopped at a hotel last night. No reason to rush, because she wasn’t at home, but he hadn’t known that then, and it made him angry to think she was probably laughing about that, too. Laughing and laughing at poor Kevin Tierney while she cheated on him with another man.

He changed his shirt and tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans and started toward the waterfront. He knew that’s where he’d find Ivan’s, because he’d searched for the location on the computer. He knew he was taking a risk if he went there and he turned around twice, but he had to find her, had to make sure she was still real. He’d been in her house and inhaled her scent but it wasn’t enough.

Crowds of people were everywhere. The streets reminded him of a county fair, without the pigs and horses and cows. He bought a hot dog and tried to eat it, but his stomach rebelled and he threw most of it away. Weaving among the people, he spotted the waterfront in the distance, and then Ivan’s. His progress through the throngs was excruciatingly slow. His mouth was dry by the time he reached the door of the restaurant.

Ivan’s was packed, people waiting outside the entrance for tables. He should have brought a hat and sunglasses, but he hadn’t been thinking. He knew she would recognize him instantly, but he worked his way to the door anyway and stepped inside.

He spotted a waitress, but she wasn’t Erin. Saw another, but she wasn’t Erin, either. The hostess was young and harried and trying to figure out where to put the next group of customers. It was loud — people talking, forks clanking against plates, glasses sloshing in the bus tubs. Loud and confusing and the damn pounding in his head wouldn’t go away. His stomach burned.

“Is Erin working today?” he called out to the hostess, raising his voice above the noise.

She blinked at him in confusion. “Who?”

“Katie,” he said. “I meant Katie. Katie Feldman.”

“No,” the hostess shouted back. “She’s off. She’s working tomorrow, though.” She nodded toward the windows. “She’s probably out there somewhere, along with everyone else. I thought I saw her walk past here earlier.”

Kevin turned and left, bumping into people as he went. Ignoring it. Outside, he paused at a sidewalk vendor. He bought a baseball hat and a pair of inexpensive sunglasses. And then he began to walk.

The Ferris wheel went round and round, Alex and Josh in one seat and Kristen and Katie in another, hot wind in their faces. Katie had her arm draped over Kristen’s shoulders, knowing that despite Kristen’s smile, she was nervous about the height. As the seat rotated to its peak, unveiling a panorama of the town, Katie realized that while she wasn’t exactly thrilled with the height, either, she was more concerned with the Ferris wheel itself. The thing looked like it was held together with bobby pins and chicken wire, even if it had supposedly passed inspection earlier that morning.

She wondered if Alex had been telling the truth about the inspection, or if he’d heard her saying aloud whether it might be dangerous. It was too late to worry about it now, she supposed, so instead she occupied herself by staring at the throngs of people below. The carnival had become even more crowded as the afternoon wore on, but aside from boating, there wasn’t a lot to do in Southport. It was a sleepy little town, and she surmised that an event like this was probably the highlight of the year.

The Ferris wheel slowed and stopped, stranding them as the first of the passengers got out and others crawled on. It rotated a bit, and she found herself scrutinizing the crowd more closely. Kristen seemed more relaxed and was doing the same.

She recognized a couple of people eating snow cones as regulars at Ivan’s, and she wondered how many others were out there. Her eyes began to travel from group to group, and for some reason she remembered that she used to do the same thing when she first started working at Ivan’s. Back when she was watching for Kevin.

Kevin walked past the booths that lined either side of the street, just wandering and trying to think like Erin. He should have asked the hostess if she’d seen Erin with a man because he knew she wouldn’t be at the carnival alone. It was hard to keep reminding himself that she might have short brown hair because she’d cut and dyed it. He should have had the pedophile at the other precinct get a copy of the driver’s license photo, but he hadn’t been thinking at the time, and it didn’t matter now because he knew where she lived and he would go back.

He could feel the gun in his waistband, pressing against his skin. It felt uncomfortable, pinching his flesh, and it was hot under the ball hat, especially since it was pulled low and tight. His head felt like it would explode.

He moved around groups of people, lines that formed. Arts and crafts. Decorated pinecones, stained glass in frames, wind chimes. Old-fashioned toys carved from wood. People were stuffing their faces with food: pretzels and ice cream, nachos, cinnamon rolls. He saw babies in strollers and remembered again that Erin wanted to have a baby. He decided he would give her one. A girl or a boy, it didn’t matter, but he preferred a boy because girls were selfish and wouldn’t appreciate the life he gave them. Girls were like that.

People talked and whispered all around him and he thought some of them were staring at him, like Coffey and Ramirez used to do. He ignored them, focused on his search. Families. Teens with their arms around one another. A guy in a sombrero. A couple of the carnival workers stood near a streetlight, smoking. Thin and tattooed, with bad teeth. Probably drug users, with long records. They gave him a bad feeling. He was a good detective and knew how to read people and he didn’t trust them but they did nothing as he brushed past them.

He veered left and right, working his way steadily through the crowd, studying people’s faces. He paused while an overweight couple waddled past him, eating corn dogs, their faces red and blotchy. He hated fat people, thought they were weak and had no discipline, people who complained about their blood pressure and diabetes and heart problems and whined about the cost of medicine, but couldn’t summon the strength to put the fork down. Erin was always thin but her breasts were big and now she was here with another man who fondled them at night and the thought made him burn inside. He hated her. But he wanted her, too. Loved her. It was hard to keep it straight in his head. He’d been drinking too much and it was just so damn hot. Why had she moved to a place as hellish as this?

He wandered among the carnival rides and noticed the Ferris wheel up ahead. He moved closer, bumping into a man in a tank top, ignoring his muttered outrage. He checked the seats on the ride, his gaze flashing on every face. Erin wasn’t there, or in the line, either.