Hurricane

By Glenda Norwood Petz

With a Category 5 hurricane barreling towards the southeast coast of Florida, Kayla Woodbridge is forced to cut her beach vacation with her children short and return home to prepare for the coming storm. Boone Chadwick, a new friend she met at the beach, isn't as concerned about the impending storm as Kay

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tiger Eye Publications, LLC
• Release date: Aug 27, 2019
• ISBN: 9781088122600

Glenda Norwood Petz

Native South Floridian now residing in Clarksville, Indiana.

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Hurricane

Hurricanes clipart images and royalty-free illustrations | ClickArt Online

Glenda Norwood Petz

All rights reserved.

Copyright© Glenda Norwood Petz, 2019

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, by photostat, microfilm, xerography, or any other means, or incorporated into any information retrieval system, either electronic or mechanical, without the written permission of the copyright owner.

Other titles by Glenda Norwood Petz:

A Requiem for Revenge

Ghost Girl

The Punishment Room

The Children In the Woods

Dream Weavers

Apollyon’s War

The Fall of Autumn’s Becoming

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This book is dedicated to all victims of hurricanes past and those still yet to come, and to the men and women at the National Hurricane Center for their dedication and hard work in keeping the public updated around the clock of approaching storms.

* * * * *

If you would like to track Hurricane Phillipe while reading, there is a hurricane tracking map in the Appendix.

Foreword from the Author

As a native Floridian, I’ve been through, and seen the aftermath of, many of these devastating storms up close and personal; however, no matter how many I’ve seen, the power of these extreme forces of nature never ceases to amaze me. When those who are in the path of an oncoming storm are hunkered down inside their homes awaiting the inevitable, they depend upon their local news stations, the National Weather Service, local law enforcement and the National Hurricane Center to keep them informed and updated. The amount of respect I have for all these people is beyond measure and I will forever be grateful for their dedication and hard work in providing the public with ongoing safety measures, preparedness instructions and accessible evacuation routes. There is no picture you can view online that can fully show you the impact of a strong hurricane and the destruction they cause. You would have to see it for yourself to fully comprehend and understand how terrible they can be. If you ever do witness one, trust me, you’ll never forget it.

For me, the most unforgettable and haunting part of every hurricane I’ve ever been through, is the constant howling and whistling of the wind as it batters and destroys everything in its path.

Special Weather Bulletin

Tropical Depression Discussion

Issued by the National Hurricane Center

Miami, FL

0800 AM, WED 23 OCT

New tropical depression has formed east of the Leeward Islands.

At 0800 AM, the poorly defined center of this tropical depression was located near Latitude 16.0 North / Longitude 60.4 West, or about 70 miles east southeast of Guadelupe.

The depression is moving toward the west-northwest near 12 mph and this general motion is expected to continue for the next 24 hours.

Maximum sustained winds are near 30 mph with higher gusts. Some strengthening is expected during the next day and the tropical depression could become a tropical storm.

The estimated minimum central pressure is 1010 mb.

Rainfall accumulations of 4 to 6 inches are expected.

Forecaster Bates

Chapter 1

Friday, October 25th – Nanette, Palm Beach County, Florida

You guys getting excited? Kayla Woodbridge asked her two teenagers as she sat a plate of pancakes down on the table in front of them.

Kelly, her sixteen-year-old daughter shrugged and mumbled, I guess so. Anywhere is better than here.

Kayla wanted to believe that Kelly’s recently developed sour attitude could be attributed to her age, the know everything better than anyone else stage of her life, but her gut told her it was more than that, and it was something Kelly either didn’t want to talk about or couldn’t. She needed to sit her down and have a heart to heart with her and get to the bottom of what was bothering her so much lately.

I’m excited, mom, Kyle stated. I love going to the beach.

I know you do, Kayla responded, tussling his blonde hair. Are you packed?

Almost. I only need to put a few more things in my bag.

Kelly, how about you?

Getting there, she answered without looking up.

Clint, I’ll start packing our bags today, Kayla said to her husband, whose mind seemed to be far away from the family conversation. Anything in particular you want me to include?

Clint took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that, he began.

Here we go, Kelly said, shaking her head. Should’ve known.

What’s that supposed to mean, young lady? Clint snapped.

Nothing, dad. Forget I said anything. You never listen anyway.

Dad? Kyle said, glancing at his father. Aren’t you going?

Clint opened his mouth to answer, but Kayla cut him off. You finished eating, sport? If so, why don’t you go to your room and get the rest of your things together? You, too, Kelly. Please.

I should’ve known you’d do this, Kayla stated sharply once the kids were out of earshot. Clint, you know good and damn well I’ve been planning this vacation for over a month now and you wait until the day before we’re scheduled to leave to tell me you’re not going?

I never said I wasn’t going, Clint replied. You’re putting words in my mouth.

What are you saying then?

Only that I won’t be leaving at the same time as you and the kids, he answered. I have some last-minute things to do at the office before I can go away.

On a Saturday? Kayla huffed.

Kelly and Kyle stopped mid-hallway. The packing they needed to finish could wait a few minutes longer. They stood silently with their backs against the wall as they listened to their parents’ acerbic exchange of unpleasantries, careful to stay out of sight and not be caught eavesdropping.

Yeah, I’ll bet he’s got things to do alright, Kelly whispered.

Like what? Kyle asked.

Kelly glanced down at her younger brother. Nothing you need to know about.

I hate when they argue, Kyle said. They sure seem to be doing it a lot lately. Do you know why?

Of course she knew. She’d known for months, but hadn’t told anyone. Especially not her mother. The only other person who knew was Chloe, and that was only because she’d been her taxi, chauffeuring her around town so she could spy on her father. Surely her parents had noticed the dour change in her attitude towards her dad. Either they were oblivious to it, or they preferred not to broach the subject.

No, she finally said. But I don’t like it, either.

Kyle was a sweet kid most of the time. There was no reason for her to spoil his good mood or adoration for their father by telling him why their parents had been arguing so much. Even if she tried to explain, chances were that he didn’t even know about sex yet. The only things that interested him were baseball and video games. We’d better get started on our packing like mom told us to.

Kelly? Do you think she’ll still go even if dad doesn’t?

Kelly shrugged. Beats me, squirt. I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.

Nothing you can’t finish up today so you can leave with us in the morning? Kayla asked, frustrated with his timing on announcing his decision.

I’ll only be there for a few hours then I’ll drive over there. What’s the big deal? It’ll be more convenient if we have two cars, anyway.

What’s the big deal? Kayla blurted. I’ll tell you what the big deal is, Clint. You knew we were taking this vacation to the beach and instead of spending it with your family you’d rather make up excuses by saying you have to go to work? Not that you haven’t had a month to plan ahead and make sure you didn’t have to.

For God’s sake, Kayla, don’t start with me, Clint said, rising from the table and placing his coffee cup in the sink.

You always do this, Kayla argued, tossing the dishrag onto the countertop. I don’t know why I expected this time to be any different from the others.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Making plans then reneging, Kayla answered. You seem to be doing that an awful lot lately.

I have no idea what you’re referring to, Clint said, leaning up against the counter to face her.

Really? How about Kelly’s awards program you were supposed to attend last week? How many of Kyle’s baseball games have you been to? Shall I keep going?

Clint glared at her angrily. You’re something else, you know that? he spat. Even if there’s nothing for you to bitch about, I can always count on you to find something. Look around you, Kayla. Do you enjoy living in a nice house? Driving a new car? Wearing decent clothes? Do you know why you’re able to have all that? It’s called working, remember?

Damn you, Clint, don’t you dare go there with me, Kayla seethed, waving a finger at him. I work, too. Stop acting like you’re the sole provider around here.

Clint slipped on his jacket, picked up his briefcase and headed to the door.

Absolutely unbelievable, Kayla said, shaking her head in disgust. Don’t expect me and the kids to sit around here waiting for you to make up your mind. I still plan to leave first thing in the morning, with or without you. I have no intentions of letting the kids down, not when they’ve been looking forward to this just as much as I have. I thought you were, too, but I guess I was wrong.

Isn’t that what I just suggested you do? Some things are more important than a trip to the beach, Kayla, he said, walking out the door without kissing her goodbye.

Obviously, there are also things that are more important than your family. Glad you have your priorities straight, Clint, she said to unhearing ears.

A close up of a logo Description automatically generated

Clint Woodbridge entered the lobby of the Chalfont Hotel, making sure the front desk clerk wasn’t on duty yet before entering the lobby and taking the elevator to the fifth floor. Clint glanced around furtively as he made his way towards his destination, making sure he was alone before lightly tapping on the door.

I thought you’d stood me up, Mona pouted seductively, clutching his tie and pulling him into the room.

I almost did, Clint confessed.

Well, Mona’s mighty glad you didn’t, she purred.

Dressed in a black lace teddy, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately, leaving a smear of orange sherbet colored lipstick on his face. Clint quickly wiped it off with the swipe of a thumb.

You seem a little tense this morning, baby, Mona cooed. Want me to soften you up? she said, kissing him again.

I love starting my day off with a fight, Clint remarked, his tone sharp with sarcasm.

Want to talk about it? Mona asked, running her fingers through his thick brown hair.

Not really, he replied, undressing and laying his clothes across the back of a black leather chair. Pulling Mona close to him, he kissed her lightly on the side of her neck. Mmm, you smell delicious, Clint whispered, running his tongue gently down her cheek and across her lips. Let’s get you out of this thing, he said, removing her teddy and letting it fall to the floor.

After an intense round of lovemaking, they cuddled beneath the covers, Mona gently stroking Clint’s chest with her fingertips. That was certainly different, she said. A little on the rough side, but still satisfying. I like the animal in you, she teased.

Sorry, Clint said. I guess I’m more uptight than I thought.

What did you get into a fight with the bitch about?

I’ve asked you not to call her that. Kayla’s not a bitch. And it wasn’t a fight, Clint corrected. More like a heated exchange of words.

Over what?

Our family beach trip. She’s pissed because I told her I have to work and wouldn’t be leaving with her and the kids.

That’s right, Mona said, raising up on an elbow and looking at him. You were supposed to leave tomorrow. Are you still going?

Clint shrugged. I’d rather stay here in bed with you, but if I don’t at least show my face I’ll never hear the end of it.

Mona was quiet for a moment, then laid back down beside him, gently gliding her fingertips up and down his inner thigh, intentionally allowing her fingers to brush against his manhood, lightly enough to excite, but not arouse him. I don’t know why you continue to stay with her, she said. If she makes you so miserable, why don’t you leave her?

I’ve told you before, he answered, kissing the top of her head. She would take me to the cleaners and leave me with nothing but the shirt on my back.

So, Mona said. It’s only material possessions that can all be replaced. Isn’t your happiness worth more than that?

It’s not worth losing everything I’ve worked my ass off to accomplish, he snapped. As long as she stays off my back, I can’t handle the situation.

Mona sat up and stared down at him. You should divorce her and marry me. I’d treat you the way you deserve to be treated.

Clint burst into laughter. Marry you? he shrieked. Are you fucking serious?

Don’t laugh at me, Mona remarked irritably, crawling out of bed. And yes, I’m serious.

Baby, if I ever get out of this marriage, making that same mistake again will be the furthest thing from my mind. Once bitten, twice shy.

Mona huffed, snatching her teddy from the floor and redressing. What you’re saying is that I’m decent enough for you to fuck but not good enough for you to marry.

Clint threw the covers back and stood up. That’s not what I said. When you say stupid shit like that, you sound just like Kayla. Trust me when I tell you that one of her is more than enough.

Oh, so now I remind you of your wife?

Good God, Mona, Clint exclaimed. Give it a rest, will you? I’m not in the mood for more bullshit this morning.

She stared at him disbelievingly. He’d never talked to her like that before and had certainly never compared her to his wife. He seemed like a different man today, on edge and ready to crack as easily as an eggshell.

Tell you what, she said, turning away and going to the nightstand where the phone was. With the receiver in her hand, she said, I can make this easy for you. Why don’t I make a call and tell your precious wife all about us? she asked, dialing a zero to get an outside line. I’m sure she’d love to hear all about our hot, steamy love affair.

You stupid bitch, Clint spat, snatching the receiver from her hand and slamming it back down into the cradle. What is wrong with you?

I could ask you the same thing, she remarked bitterly, turning away from him.

Clint grabbed her by her upper left arm, digging his fingers into the soft flesh and spinning her around to face him. Mona slapped him hard across the face. Don’t you ever put your fucking hands on me again! she yelled in his face. So help me God, if you do, I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch!

Clint clutched onto both arms and shook her hard.

Let go of me, you bastard! Mona panted, struggling to free herself from his grasp. His fingernails dug so deeply into her skin, his grip so tight, that his unexpected assault would leave bruises on her pale flesh.

Weary of holding her off to prevent her from striking him again, and angry over her threats, Clint shoved her away with more force than he’d intended to.

Mona stumbled and fell, her left temple striking the corner of the wooden desk next to the bathroom door with a loud thwack!, the force of the blow propelling her onto the ceramic tile of the bathroom floor. A sickening cracking noise erupted when her head struck the tile.

Mona lay motionless on the ground, a puddle of bright red blood beginning to form beneath her head, long red tendrils running into the cracks of the tile, turning the grout a dark shade of brown.

Clint stood frozen, his mouth agape in shock, as he stared down at Mona lying unmoving on the floor. Mona? When she didn’t respond, he called her name louder. Mona!

Oh, my God! he gasped, kneeling beside her. Mona, wake up! he pleaded, nudging her, but she didn’t move. Mona, please get up! he wept. I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry. I’m begging you to open your eyes.

Clint sauntered rearward, away from the bathroom, until he felt the backs of his knees collide with the foot of the bed. He plopped down heavily, horrified at what’d just transpired, and at the sight of Mona’s dead, bloody body lying on the bathroom floor. He squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to look at her, hoping that when he reopened them he’d realize it’d all been a terrible nightmare, and that Mona would wrap her arms around his neck like she always did while kissing him deeply and passionately. But she didn’t. And she wouldn’t. Never again.

Clint sprang from the bed, clutching his head as he paced back-and-forth. Oh, my God, he repeatedly muttered.

How could such a stupid and petty argument have escalated so quickly and resulted in a sudden and violent death? All he’d done was push her away. Perhaps a little too boorishly, but it wasn’t as if he’d struck her intending to kill her. Was this what was referred to as a crime of passion? A regrettable act of violence from a normally calm and non-violent person carried out in the heat of the moment? He’d never hurt anyone in his life, much less caused another’s death. If only he could take it back. But he couldn’t. What was done was done.

Should he call the police and tell them what happened? Afterall, it was an accident. Surely he wouldn’t go to jail for that. Or would he? The only information the cops would have to go on would be his account of what’d transpired. Mona certainly wasn’t able to tell her side of the story. Would they believe him or charge him with murder and throw him in prison for the rest of his life? He couldn’t go to jail. Kayla and the kids needed him. They depended on him and he couldn’t let them down.

There was only one thing he could do.

I have to get the hell out of here, he said, quickly dressing and gathering his belongings, checking, and double-checking the room to ensure he hadn’t left anything behind that could lead the cops to him. With a wet rag, he wiped down all the wooden surfaces, doorknobs and anything else he thought he may have touched, wiped down the sink, took the glass he’d drank out of from the bedside table, stuffed the wet rag inside the glass and put it inside his suit coat pocket. Later, he’d find a dumpster to dispose of them.

Careful not to touch the faux leather of Mona’s purse, he used a hand rag to grip it from the bottom and turned it upside down, dumping the contents onto the bed. He didn’t see anything that could incriminate him. She didn’t carry an address book, and he’d never written her any notes. All that was in her purse was a tube of lipstick, a travel-sized bottle of perfume, a wallet, and her car keys. Quickly thumbing through her wallet, he was relieved to see that it didn’t contain any information about him. In fact, it barely contained anything other than driver’s license and a couple of credit cards. To be safe, he took the keys and dropped them into his pocket, surmising there couldn’t be anything in her car belonging to him since he’d never been in it. If the police were able to locate her car, without the keys the only way they’d