“That’d be nice,” his voice echoed.
The boys were already entangled with Legos, so Kirin bounded back downstairs. Her mind spun with curiosity. She poured two tall glasses of half un-sweet and half sweet tea and headed out the backdoor.
It was midafternoon and were it not for the fans Jack had installed on the back-porch ceiling, she might have broken into an unlady-like sweat. In the distance, Arthur inspected his field with his horses, glancing at them from time to time. She handed Mr. B his tea and sat in a plump chair across from him.
He closed his eyes briefly and inhaled the mountain air. Opening them, he appeared mesmerized by the beauty of the land and horses. She gave him time to soak it all in and pretended she wasn’t anxious. Finally, he spoke. “It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?” he whispered it more to himself than her.
“Yeah.”
His face was lined with worry. When he took a troubled breath, it dawned on her. Were the dark-suited men harassing him too? That thought made her stomach twist. What if they followed him to her house? She shuddered.
“Kirin,” he said, pulling her back from her thoughts, “As I stated before, I have some news. Bad news.” She nodded for him to continue. “Janet, your father’s second wife, has died.”
Kirin stared at him. She’d only met the woman the week before.
He continued, “Her death was … questionable. The police are investigating it for foul play. The initial cause of death was reported as an overdose, but anyone who even vaguely knew Janet would dispute that conclusion. The woman was a total health nut. She never took mainstream medicine. She only used herbs and natural remedies when she or your dad were sick.”
Mr. Blankenship pushed off his chair and stood. Then he paced over to the edge of the porch and turned to face Kirin. “I know you didn’t know her well, but she took great care of your father in a time when he was all alone. She almost had your dad convinced to fly here to get you and bring you to LA to live, but your father didn’t want you in the middle of all that.”
Your father didn’t want you.
That’s all she’d heard.
Mr. B. must’ve sensed he’d lost her, he stepped closer and squatted down in front of her, pulling her back to his words.
“Kirin listen to me. Your father loved you. He didn’t want you in the middle of his mess. We had long talks about you and your wellbeing. Mostly, he talked of keeping you hidden and safe.”
This made her sit up straighter. “Hidden from whom?” she demanded.
When he stood, his face scrunched up, filled with regret. Mr. Blankenship turned away from her, surveying once again, the back of her property.
“From the world,” he answered softly.
He turned his head back toward her, pinning her with his eyes.
He whispered, “I believe Janet was murdered.”
Kirin leaned forward, leveled a look at him and whispered back, “Why would those men murder her?”
By the look on his face, her question startled him. She wasn’t dense. She’d made a few connections. Like her father had to be part of these men for them to come to his funeral. She’d guessed he must have gained their confidence over the years and then double-crossed them in the end.
Also, by the fear in Janet’s voice, she’d presumed whatever they wanted was inside the book she’d been given. Kirin closed her eyes and pictured Janet. Sad. She’d been kind and gentle. Motherly even. Poor woman.
It didn’t make sense. Scar and Babyface were in town. They had to know where she lived. It was public record for crying out loud. So, why hadn’t they driven over, kicked in her door, and grabbed the book if that was what they were after? It didn’t make sense.
Mr. Blankenship sat back down and took a sip of his sweet tea. Placing it back on the glass table he turned toward her and asked the dreaded question.
“Where’s the book? I need to see it.”
Her first warning from Janet had been not to trust anyone who asked about the book. She silently thanked her. Her hackles were up, all the same.
“Why?” Kirin stood, stepping back, then crossing her arms.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat under her stare.
“Why don’t you let me have it. I’ll give it to them and maybe they’ll leave both of us alone.”
His eyes were bloodshot. The urge to have him leave overtook her sympathy. He needed to get out of her house. Now. He was hunted like her, maybe more so since he held the keys to her father’s fortune, but she couldn’t help him. She needed an insurance policy to keep her boys safe from these people. And the book was just that. She turned away from him.
“I ditched it.” She said, then spun back around to face him. “I didn’t want any part of my father’s estate … not the money, the drama, the headache, and certainly not his stupid book. It’s been taken out with the trash days ago.”
Mr. Blankenship stared at her. Probably trying to decide if he believed her. Shaking his head, he pulled out his briefcase and opened it, then snatched a small stack of bound papers and slammed the lid closed. The hilt of a black gun shone in the sunlight before it closed.
He needed to leave. Now.
After she signed the last of the papers, she grabbed her tea and walked toward the door, not caring she was being rude.
Mr. Blankenship placed the papers back in his briefcase. As he locked it he spoke. “I’m leaving my practice in California. I’m licensed to practice in three other states, so I’m headed to one of them to start over. Maybe, even retire.”
She wanted to ask if he fled because of them, but she already knew that answer. He said, on his way to the door that his office deleted her address, but he’d send copies of the completed paperwork in a few weeks. As he stood at her door, he handed her a check for $1.1 million dollars. Stunned, she stood openmouthed. She hadn’t expected more than a few thousand. He waited for her to look up and when she did, he gave her a quick nod and vanished out her front door.
~*~
That night, she had a vivid dream of spending some of the money on a lavish vacation with the boys. Lying on a warm, sandy beach, she gazed at Will and Little Jack making sandcastles and chasing waves. The taste of salt in the air and the warm breeze on her face calmed her. She sipped on a cool drink while waves rolled in, and she buried her toes in the warm sand.
In a flash, the sky grew dark. She stood to gather their beach toys and run back to the house before the storm hit. When she bent, gone were the towels and toys, replaced with only a single item, her father’s book.
A scream filled her ears, and she turned. The man with the white smile from the funeral lurked a few feet away, his eyes trained on her sons. But this time, instead of a smile he wore a sneer. Cold eyes locked on to her two unaware boys. He took one step toward them, and her entire body lurched up casting her out of the dream, drenched and shaking.
When she’d finally calmed down enough to lay down and close her eyes again, the same sentence rattled on repeat in her head.
Protect them.
Chapter Fifteen
The morning began like any other typical Sunday. Racing around to get ready for church and trying desperately to keep Little Jack, Will and herself clean for a few hours while they attended mass. It all went off without a hitch until the “peace be with you” part where everyone shakes hands with the parishioners around them. It was at this moment Little Jack and Will broke out into a full-scale pushing and shoving contest.
Real peaceful.
She spent the rest of mass breaking up the fights, glaring at the boys and smiling at people giggling around them.
Back home, Kirin sat on the back porch and read the paper sipping hot mocha coffee while Little Jack blew bubbles and Will dragged a tiny skateboard with his fingers across every surface on the patio.
The sweet smell of honeysuckle blew in over the mountain, keeping them cool as the heat of spring sun began its relentless ray that would last well into October.
Arthur stood in his ga
rden, talking to himself. No doubt planning what and where to plant his vegetables. He whistled so the boys would look up and notice him. They did and ditched their play to run across the field to meet him. He glanced over, and she waved.
“Ms. Lane, can we plant, today?”
“Sure!” she yelled back.
Maybe they’d learn the green thumb from him since she didn’t have it.
Kirin sat back, propped her feet up and opened the paper, pulling out her favorite sections: Coupons, Real Estate, and the Living section. She flipped past the obituaries section then remembered they were supposed to post her father’s obituary.
You’d think after handling Jack’s arrangements, she’d be a pro at this, but she’d initially forgotten to put his obituary in the Knoxville paper where he’d been born, until her friend, Laura mentioned it. Who would’ve remembered him in Knoxville? She copied the one from the LA paper and put it in their local paper.
She turned to the last page and found his name:
Michael “Sonny” Terhune died of natural causes March 13, 2019. Preceded in Death by wife Nancy, parents Frances and Nelson, son-in-law Jack Lane and sister Margaret. Survived by daughter Kirin Terhune Lane, grandsons Jack and Will Lane and special friend Janet.
Reading Janet’s name, who was alive when she’d written it, made her sad. Even though she didn’t know the woman well.
After dinner, Rosa pulled in armed with a new grocery list. Her first thought, Sam.
Kirin ran upstairs to change and brush her teeth. The sun had begun its descent and a chill hung in the air, but she wanted to wear something feminine. A medium length white skirt to show off her legs, a pink shirt, and her brown flips. She added a touch of lip gloss and a quick squirt of perfume she instantly regretted. Rosa wouldn’t miss questioning the perfume. Especially for a chore she knew Kirin loathed.
She tiptoed downstairs, trying not to call attention to herself. Even before she rounded the bottom of the steps Rosa’s sarcasm wafted into the kitchen from the pantry.
“You smell nice for the store.” She said “store” as if it was a smelly fish market. Rosa sauntered out of the pantry carrying cans. “Why are you dressed up?”
Kirin twirled around so her skirt filled with air. “Well, you never know who you’ll run into at Morrissey’s. And it’s high time I start trying to look nice again.”
Rosa snickered, “Yeah, right.” She laid the cans down on the counter. Swirling around, she placed a hand on her hip and began the Rosa interrogation.
“So, I’m guessing you didn’t like Mr. Right on Friday?”
Kirin’s smile disappeared. She’d forgotten the sting of rejection.
She let out a sigh, “No, he stood me up.”
Rosa stared into Kirin’s eyes as if she didn’t understand, so she continued, “He must have taken one look at me and run the other way.”
She couldn’t figure out how, but when Rosa asked her a question, she always told her darkest truth. The tiny woman had some superpower where she knew if Kirin lied anyway, so it was pointless to resist.
“He left me … sitting in the restaurant for two hours. Never even called to tell me he was delayed or that he wasn’t coming. It was humiliating, but then a friend happened to walk in and sat with me. He ended up bringing me home since I’d sat there too long in the bar drowning my sorrows. I didn’t have much time to sober up.”
Rosa walked closer and lowered her voice to a growl.
“Who brought you home?”
“Sam,” Kirin answered. “Remember … the guy I met at the grocery store. He saved me … again.”
Rosa’s scowl spoke volumes. She didn’t approve of bringing some stranger to the house. Probably a good time to grab the list and walk to the door.
“Kirin,” Rosa blurted out.
“Yes?”
“You look nice.” She said it dry, then turned and trotted upstairs.
Kirin stood open-mouthed. A compliment coming from Rosa was rarer than a snowstorm in June. They usually volleyed harmless insults back and forth at each other, not compliments. Kirin smiled to herself on her way to the car, glad she’d at least approved of the outfit.
The winding mountain roads made for a fast ride to the store. She let the tires hug the road, turned up the radio and, enjoyed the butterflies in her belly. Pulling into the store, she surveyed the lot for signs of his truck. It wasn’t there. She checked the clock. Six pm on the nose, the time she’d always arrived on Sundays.
She sat in her car pretending to be lost in old eighties’ music, scanned the place like she was casing it. She’d sat there so long, the same young bagger walked three sets of people and groceries out to their cars. He gave her the stink eye on the third time he passed.
Her mind raced. Maybe he was inside, waiting? She hadn’t thought of that. She gathered her things and speed-walked inside. Once there, she grabbed her cart and stared at her list, not reading a word of it. She hoped she didn’t look desperate. Glancing over the top of her list, he was nowhere in sight.
Disappointment festered in her belly where the butterflies had been. She hoped he wouldn’t forget tomorrow’s lunch too.
She meandered through the store, half-heartedly checking groceries off the list. The feeling of rejection reminded her she needed to call Sarah and squash her matchmaking skills since Mr. Loyal hadn’t even had the decency to call and apologize for standing her up.
Who does that? She still couldn’t believe how much it’d affected her. She’d allowed it to injure her tiny shred of self-confidence. She was even angrier at this unknown man for making her doubt herself. Hell, she was smart, successful even, with two beautiful boys and a great life. Kirin raised her head higher. Nobody would be stealing her self-confidence again.
Her turn came to load her groceries on the conveyor belt. After she placed a flat of waters on the belt, she stood on her tiptoes to take one more look around. Maybe she’d missed him.
Three lanes away stood two familiar backs. Even without the dark menacing suits, she knew it was them. Shocked they were so close, she gasped and ducked down behind the candy bars and gum. She picked up a magazine to put in front of her face and peered over it, observing them through the holes in the display. Breathe.
They were close enough, and now turned sideways, she could memorize their faces. Babyface was probably six feet tall with dark eyes and a square chin. Scar was shorter, heavier and the skin on his face looked like a worn-out Aigner purse.
Luckily, they waited behind a woman with a notebook full of coupons trying to get everything for free.
Her big-boned cashier gazed at her with a sly grin and spoke soft.
“See an old boyfriend, honey?”
Kirin added the magazine to her pile of groceries and shook her head.
“How fast can you get me out of here?” She whispered.
The cashier pushed up both sleeves. “Honey, I’m the fastest one here. You’re lucky you got in my line.”
Kirin smiled gratefully, and without a sound helped the cashier bag and load the groceries. She put her debit card in the machine and begged the machine to hurry. The cashier turned to follow Kirin’s line of sight.
That’s when Scar spotted Kirin.
She swallowed hard and kept moving as if he hadn’t noticed her. Scar elbowed Baby Face in the side. Both men stilled and stared at her as if she performed a circus act on a high wire.
Her hand shook as she took the receipt and thanked the cashier. The cashier looked from Kirin’s shaking hand to her fearful eyes, then glared in the men’s direction.
As Kirin pushed her cart toward the door, a man’s gravel-voice rang out. “We’ve decided we don’t have time to wait.”
Their cashier yelled out, “Doris, can you get these guys down on three? They’re in a hurry.”
Kirin glanced back at her cashier, who winked in her direction.
“Sure, send ‘em down here, I’ll help ‘em.”
Kirin crossed the threshold of the store to
the outside and took off in a dead run. She didn’t even look around, she yanked open the back door to the SUV and threw in the groceries. She flinched when the sound of eggs cracking reached her ears. She even left her grocery cart sitting next to her car, something she judged others for doing. She sprinted to the drivers side, jumped in and locked the doors.
Her lungs burned. She’d held her breath loading the groceries. As she backed out, the two men, bags in hand jogged out of the store right behind the coupon lady. They looked around and stopped once their eyes found her car. She’d escaped them once again.
~*~
As they put away groceries, Rosa mumbled loud opinions to herself about broken eggs, squished bread, and how an entire bag of chips could be pummeled to dust. All due to someone’s driving. Placing the last can on the shelf, Kirin turned as Rosa spun around and stopped. She pulled on the straps of her purse and eyeballed Kirin.
“What happened to the handsome guy at the store? Didn’t you see him?”
“He wasn’t there,” Kirin answered.
“Oh,” she sounded surprised. “Well, he must have had a good reason not to be there.” She added, “Anyone not smart enough to see how wonderful you are must be blind.”
Kirin gaped at her. Wow. Two compliments in one night, and perhaps one of the nicest ones Rosa had ever uttered without a hint of sarcasm. Bizaroland.
Kirin waved goodbye then she and the boys snuggled in for a movie. All the while, her mind flitted. She sure wished Sam had shown up at the store.
After the movie and showers, she put the boys to bed. They were especially tired since Arthur had them both pulling weeds in his garden and digging for worms most of the afternoon. Kirin trudged up to her room and logged into the computer with a glass of tea in her comfy UT orange sweats.
She hadn’t been online for more than a few minutes when a popup at the bottom of the screen read: Is this Kirin Terhune Lane, daughter of Sonny?
She froze. Her world had been so strange since her father’s passing. She was leery of everyone. Her mind went blank. What should she say?
Entangling: Book One of the Kirin Lane Series Page 11