Island Life Sentence Read online

  About the Author

  After raising three boys in the suburbs of Chicago, Carrie Jo Howe now lives in Key West, Florida with her husband and her dog. Her new book, Island Life Sentence, is a fictional account of an American Midwestern woman who feels like an alien in the “one human family” of Key West. Carrie Jo’s first book, Motherhood is NOT for Babies, received rave reviews, and works wonderfully as an alternate form of contraception. Her blog Florida Keys Crime Report tells of all the goings-on in the Keys, where bank robbers get away on bicycles, and perps caught with an undersized, pinched, out-of-season lobster get more jail time than drug runners. She is currently working on her second Key West book.

  Island Life Sentence

  Carrie Jo Howe

  Unbound

  This edition first published in 2018

  Unbound

  6th Floor Mutual House, 70 Conduit Street, London W1S 2GF

  www.unbound.com

  All rights reserved

  © Carrie Jo Howe, 2018

  The right of Carrie Jo Howe to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  ISBN (eBook): 978-1911586531

  ISBN (Paperback): 978-1911586524

  Design by Mecob

  Cover image:

  © Shutterstock.com

  Printed in Great Britain by Clays Ltd, St Ives Plc

  Dear Reader,

  The book you are holding came about in a rather different way to most others. It was funded directly by readers through a new website: Unbound.

  Unbound is the creation of three writers. We started the company because we believed there had to be a better deal for both writers and readers. On the Unbound website, authors share the ideas for the books they want to write directly with readers. If enough of you support the book by pledging for it in advance, we produce a beautifully bound special subscribers’ edition and distribute a regular edition and e-book wherever books are sold, in shops and online.

  This new way of publishing is actually a very old idea (Samuel Johnson funded his dictionary this way). We’re just using the internet to build each writer a network of patrons. Here, at the back of this book, you’ll find the names of all the people who made it happen.

  Publishing in this way means readers are no longer just passive consumers of the books they buy, and authors are free to write the books they really want. They get a much fairer return too – half the profits their books generate, rather than a tiny percentage of the cover price.

  If you’re not yet a subscriber, we hope that you’ll want to join our publishing revolution and have your name listed in one of our books in the future. To get you started, here is a £5 discount on your first pledge. Just visit unbound.com, make your pledge and type KEYWEST18 in the promo code box when you check out.

  Thank you for your support,

  Dan, Justin and John

  Founders, Unbound

  Super Patrons

  Bryan Armalavage

  Ken Beadling

  Roger Bottum

  Anne Bouchard

  Mike & Ellen Caron

  Susie Cassidy

  Janet Clark

  Auntie B Cooper

  Robert & Donna Cooper

  Curt Cooper

  Laurie Davies

  Hal Dewsnap

  Teri Foster

  Nancy Gage

  Jody Gordon

  Donna Gustin

  Jeffrey Howe

  Justin Howe

  Thomas Howe

  Steven Howe

  Marilou Howell

  Melissa Jones

  Christi Kapp

  Ray Kennedy

  Anne & Mike Kennedy

  Bridget Kennedy

  Mary Kennedy

  Dan Kieran

  Kathleen Kiser

  Karen Loftus

  Julie Loftus

  Lawrence Looby

  Lynn Looby

  Ken & Jodi MacDonald

  Lisa Mahoney

  John A C McGowan

  Debbie Merion

  John Mitchinson

  Vicki Mordell

  Kathryn Nelson

  Lisa Nevins

  Gayann Pfeiffer

  Justin Pollard

  Anne Roberts

  Sue Seboda

  Peter & Sally Shapiro

  Jane Soderberg

  Carolyn Standlee

  Cynthia Steinbach

  Patty Trindl

  Catherine Wilk

  Susan Yeschek

  June Yoshimura

  With grateful thanks to Anne Bouchard, who helped to make this book happen.

  Contents

  About the Author

  Dear Reader Letter

  Super Patrons

  Frontispiece

  Current Atmospheric Conditions

  Drunk Deal

  Narrowly, Keeping an Open Mind

  The Walk and Talk

  Garage Arbitrage

  Moving Out

  The Drive

  Meeting the Neighbors

  Moving In

  Morning in Paradise

  The Sand is Always Whiter…

  Together by Herself

  Saturday Again

  Out of Her Element in the Elements

  All Keyed Up

  Haints Go Marchin’ In

  Hot Again

  Important Research

  Some ‘Splainin’ To Do

  Lobster Mini-Season Day

  Friend in Need

  Finding Trudy

  Fantasy Festering

  Cuba Crisis

  Drinkin’ It All In

  Apology Accepted

  Assholio

  Gift to the Sea

  Bridging the Fear

  Acknowledgments

  Patrons

  Current Atmospheric Conditions

  “Sunshine state… my soggy ass.”

  It was dark. The power and the air conditioning had gone out hours ago. Peg hugged her dog under the makeshift bed-tent, clutching him to her sweaty pajama’d breasts. An engraved locket pinned to Nipper’s blue life vest dangled under his pirate dog collar. Hurricane rain pummeled the bedroom window – the violent wind shook the glass panes. Peg wondered about the moaning sound until she realized it was coming from her own throat.

  She shrieked at the sudden crash on the metal roof. Several days of binge drinking without proper oral hygiene, or any hygiene for that matter, produced noxious vapors in the tent. Nipper’s nostrils flared as he took in the odors and licked her fluorescent orange, cheesy, tear-stained fingers.

  The teepee bedspread crushed Peg’s hair into a bozo coif. Sitting on her knees, she released her grip on Nipper and reached over her head to hold up the blanket with the end of the flashlight. The beam of light cut through the darkness, jumping across the sparkling jewelry strewn in a heap on the crumpled, food-stained sheets. With her other hand, Peg lifted one long gold necklace from the tangled jewels. She sniffled as she placed the shiny strand over the dog’s neck. Nipper yawned wide in anxious anticipation.

  She put the flashlight in her armpit and squeezed the dog tightly. More sounds of destruction echoed down the hallway from the living room, reactivating her shivers. The booze and chips from yesterday gurgled in her stomach. Nipper cowered, squinting his eyes, ears flat to his head.

  Do not throw up. Get a grip.

  Snuggling him close
, she yelled over the din, “Oh, my friend, you’ll be okay.” The dog’s loving brown eyes made her heart constrict. She tightened the straps of his life jacket.

  “I’ll see you in the afterlife.” She kissed his forehead. “Ummm, actually, I don’t want to worry you, but I’ll more than likely be in hell… since I’m personally responsible for the hurricane. And you know Sister Gabriel and the Catholic Church are not going to go easy on that.”

  Nipper blinked.

  A thunderous WHAM shook the wall – a barrage of debris thrashed the house mercilessly. Gasping, Peg wet her lips with her dry tongue.

  “I mean, honestly, how different can it be from here?”

  Drunk Deal

  FIVE MONTHS EARLIER

  Peg and Clark Savage snuggled next to each other on the couch, the ’80s music of their youth blasting from the stereo. Happy hour rolled through dinner hour, then seamlessly transitioned into late-night cocktails. Flames from the fireplace reflected serpent tongue shapes against the empty wine bottles lined up on the hearth.

  “Oh, Clark, I love them. They’re gorgeous.” Peg removed the emerald heart earrings from the box and kissed her husband.

  “For the smartest and most beautiful woman in the whole… wide… let me see… neighborhood.” Clark laughed. His smooth hands slipped the delicate earrings through her earlobes. The green stones contrasted with her pale white skin.

  Peg giggled. “Gee, you really think I’m the most beautiful woman in the entire neighborhood? Even Brabra… Barbara? She has new boobs.”

  “You are more ravishing now than when I met you. You know I’m a sucker for a redhead.” Clark kissed the freckles on her nose. He was a smooth talker all right.

  Hoping that the praise was for him, Nipper looked up, nose twitching. Realizing it was a false alarm, the copper-colored bird-dog flapped his ears and settled down again in front of the fire.

  “I color my hair, you know.” Peg waved her hand in a circular motion around the top of her curly ginger locks.

  Clark smiled as he reached for her stockinged feet. “Wouldn’t it be great to have an amazing adventure now that the business is sold? We’ve done our job. The FOR SALE sign is in the front yard. Once the house sells, the world is our oyster. We can live anywhere.” He massaged her arches. Peg melted.

  “I thought that our anywhere was downtown Chicago in a high-rise.” She tipped her head back and sighed. “You know, restaurants, bars, opera, symphony, Cubs games – they’re gonna win it all again this year, you know.”

  “Spoken like a true Cubs fan.” He stopped rubbing her feet and said in a business-like tone, “Yes – downtown Chicago would have been great if we had to stay in Illinois. But that has changed. Illinois is bankrupt. Property taxes are going up. I can’t take this weather anymore.”

  He softened and took her palm, tracing the pink lines with his index finger. “Think of the fun stuff we could do in Key West.”

  “Oh, Clark, not the Key West idea again.” Peg pleaded.

  “Listen to me for a minute.” He very deliberately put his wine glass on the coffee table, took her by the shoulders and gazed into her pale green eyes. “There’s music, and warm water and palm trees – think of it, our nights would be margaritas and long walks on the beach. We could get a boat.”

  A boat?

  Peg felt seasick at the thought of it.

  Clark got up to refill her green wine goblet. On his return to the couch, he took out a Key West brochure from inside his briefcase. The Italian red sloshed onto the glossy paper, making the tourists in the photo look like murder victims.

  “You really are serious about a move to Key West.” Peg surreptitiously rubbed her chin, hoping not to find that one wild hair that refused to be tamed. “But I don’t know anyone in Key West. We’ve lived in this house for 20 years. I have my friends and community. I’ve never lived in a different state.” She had to admit, it did sound dreamy – just the two of them, alone on a tropical island – so romantic. But then again, she was drunk.

  “You can meet new friends. Change is good. Your old friends can come and visit you.” Clark was in full sales mode now – face flushed, muscles bulging, hair all tousled. Peg struggled not to succumb to his powers.

  “It’s so far away.” Peg pointed at the picture in the brochure. “On the map it doesn’t look like there’s land, only water… blue everywhere.”

  Clark was preparing his rebuttal when she blurted, “And I’m afraid of driving on long bridges. No way. Can’t breathe.”

  “What? Since when?”

  “Since 9/11.”

  “Oh, because there were so many bridge deaths on 9/11?” Peg backed away. Clark brought her back to him gently. “You should be afraid of living in a high-rise in the city, not bridges connecting us to paradise.” He nibbled the emerald earrings on her earlobes. “Mmm, I do have good taste.”

  Peg resisted, annoyed that he was making sense and kissing her at the same time. “It’s irrational, I know. I read about it. Stems from a fear of being trapped. I’d have no way to get off the island.”

  “The airport has jets that fly in and out all day. You’re only a plane ride away.”

  Clark crooned seductively into her ear.

  “How about that hurricane problem? What happens in that case? How do Nipper and I get out of there?” Peg took a big gulp from her glass.

  Nipper opened his eyes when he heard his name. Since there was no possibility of food, ball, or squirrel, he returned to his slumber.

  “I’ll be there. I’ll take care of you. There’s always plenty of warning before a hurricane. Key West hasn’t been hit by a hurricane since Wilma in 2005. Even then, no one died.”

  Peg’s eyebrows raised at the word died.

  “I’ll be able to get you and Nipper to safety.” Clark scooped up her legs and swiveled her torso until she was sitting in his lap.

  Uh-oh. He really wants this. He is so irresistible. He smells like soap and campfire.

  She had a vague sense of déjà vu. It had been a night like this when Clark wanted to liquidate all of their assets to buy a small Internet company; another similar evening when Clark wanted Peg to work as Chief Financial Officer; and another yet when he brought home a puppy – the best inebriated agreement by far.

  “Let’s go and take a look at properties. We don’t have to buy anything if we don’t love it. You can run the numbers to see if it makes sense financially.” Clark pressed his mouth to her wrist, moving slowly up her forearm toward the inner elbow. “Such beautiful soft skin.”

  That whispery, sexy voice…

  Peg cursed the butterflies that flitted their way through her bloodstream. She swilled the last of the liquid courage. “You know I can’t resist spreadsheets.” She smiled and Eskimo-kissed his nose. “Oh, okay, fine.”

  “That’s my girl.” In one swift move, Clark dumped her body off his and grabbed a wet paper towel from the table and a pen from his computer case. “Let’s sign this agreement on this official document. I, Peg, and I, Clark, agree to have an open mind while looking for properties in Key West.” He grinned drunkenly as he signed the paper and handed it to Peg. The room was spinning as she smudged her signature next to his.

  The next day, when Clark greeted Peg in the kitchen, his face lit up with hungover happiness. Peg held up the still-damp paper towel contract – black ink sticking to her index finger and thumb.

  “Yes, here’s the proof.” She dropped the drunken pact into the desk drawer on top of the crusty remains of past contracts that refused to lie flat. She could just make out the blotchy inked words company, job and dog on the corners of the stacked agreements.

  “It’ll be fun, an adventure.” Clark kissed her lips, his breath a mixture of mouthwash and sour bar towel. “I’ll make the arrangements. We can get away at the end of the week.”

  Peg wished that he would stop saying the word adventure.

  Narrowly, Keeping an Open Mind

  “No direct flights from Chicago? Not e
ven on a different day of the week?” Peg checked her seat belt and memorized the safety instruction card in the seat pocket as the plane engines kicked into full gear.

  “One longer flight to Miami and then a short hop to Key West. It’s faster than driving back home from O’Hare during rush hour.” Clark could hardly contain his excitement.

  The gray gloom of chilly Chicago clouds slowly turned to puffy white floaters as they journeyed south. Clark fanned out the real-estate fact sheets on the tray table and pointed to the yellow highlights on the page. “This house looks good. It would be fun to have a pool.”

  “It does look shimmery and the palm trees are beautiful.” She hugged Clark’s arm.

  It’s nice to see him so happy.

  After much discussion about the pros and cons of each property, Peg ranked the house sheets based on affordability and amenities and stacked the papers neatly. The flight attendant walked the aisle to check seat belts as the plane started its descent. Peg sucked in her stomach and pointed to the latched belt.

  “Like this is really going to save us from a fiery crash at 400 miles per hour.” She clutched Clark’s knee.

  “Safer than driving a car, Peg.” Clark patted her hand and stared out of the airplane window.

  Hmm, maybe, but what about driving a car on a bridge?

  Miami International Airport was bustling with travelers. The short skirts and stiletto heels were a far cry from the layered coats and heavy boots of three hours ago.

  “I need a coffee.” Peg rubbed the sleepies out of her eyes. “Where should I meet you?”

  Clark checked the flight info board. “Key West – leaves from D60.”

  “Okay, I’ll meet you there.” Peg wandered up and down the terminal for a sign or a symbol of a coffee cup. She walked up to an official-looking man. “Excuse me. Is there a Starbucks around here?”

  The man looked at her quizzically.

  “Starbucks?” Peg repeated. “Coffee?” She mimed a coffee-drinking motion, complete with blowing on her hand shaped like a cup.