No Way Out

by Fern Michaels

  So, despite his wife’s wishes, he had to find other gainful employment for Rick. Having Rick in the business was not working out, for him, the business, or even Rick.

  Richard Barnes arranged for Rick to work for a small computer start-up in which his father had invested some money. That should hold Rick for at least a year, provided he didn’t screw up in the meantime.

  As predicted, after a year, the computer company’s management realized that Rick was an albatross, but at that point the company was well on its way to being profitable, and Rick’s salary was a minuscule expense, given their bottom line. But that was then, and things had changed.

  Rick was currently unemployed and in a place where he didn’t want to be found. There was only one thing that could change his situation. Finding her. But until then, for him, there was no way out.

  * * *

  After his conversation with Christian, asking for a “loan,” Rick thought about how they had all met. Christian had been on a committee that organized a fund-raising gala for underserved urban communities. The goal was to be able to provide some type of technology to these kids, either a tablet or a computer.

  The night of the event, Chris brought his wife, Kara, and Kara’s best friend.

  Rick was intrigued, probably because the friend seemed a bit aloof. She was a striking woman. Five-foot-seven, long auburn hair pulled into a ponytail, with big, wide eyes. She wasn’t gorgeous like the models he was used to dating. There was a different type of beauty about her.

  She was wearing a cobalt-blue jumpsuit. She wore very little makeup but exuded confidence. She was confident without being arrogant.

  He couldn’t help but notice her. She was laughing as if no one was watching, throwing her head back in sheer exuberance. Christian’s wife was almost as stunning, but there was something about this woman that struck him in the gut.

  He sauntered over to where the two women were standing.

  “Good evening, ladies.” He made a small bow. “Judging by the sound of your laughter, you seem to be enjoying yourselves quite a bit.”

  Kara knew Rick through her husband’s affiliation with him. She didn’t know him well, but she knew he was good-looking and charismatic. “We are indeed.”

  Rick was impatient and wanted an introduction, pronto. “Richard Barnes at your service.” He took a slight bow. It was almost comical. “And whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

  As she introduced herself, she had held out her hand, but within a blink of an eye, he took her hand and kissed the back of it. “So nice to meet you. What brings you to our event this evening?”

  Kara thought he couldn’t be soppier, but nonetheless, she found him amusing.

  The mysterious, auburn-haired beauty explained that she worked in computer technology and was a guest of Kara and Christian. Within a noticeably short time in conversation, he realized she was quite witty and intelligent.

  “You ladies look like you could use a refill. Shall I?” he offered.

  They both gave an approving nod, adding, “Why not?” and, “That would be swell.”

  He nodded, snapped his heels together, and departed toward the bar.

  Kara said, “He’s kinda cute, and I think he might like you.”

  “Oh, puleeze . . .” she replied.

  “No, seriously. I think he might be smitten,” Kara said.

  “Smitten? Did you just get off a Victorian stagecoach?” she teased her friend.

  Seeing Prince Charming returning with filled champagne glasses, Kara said, under her breath, “Here he comes. Be nice. You never know.”

  He handed both women fresh glasses filled with champagne.

  The women took the glasses from his hands. “Thank you” and, “How lovely, thank you.”

  Rick was intrigued by the auburn-haired woman. She was witty and articulate.

  “What brings you to our soirée?” he asked.

  “I work as a beta tester for several tech companies.”

  “You must be quite a brainiac,” he replied.

  “More like a ‘super-geek,’ ” she answered.

  “You are too beautiful to be considered any kind of geek.” Rich was pouring on the charm. It was borderline schmaltz.

  He thought he caught her blushing, even if it was just a little.

  She smiled warmly, murmured, “Thank you,” and gave a little nod in his direction.

  The conversation continued when Kara politely excused herself, giving her friend an opportunity to see how things might pan out.

  The gala was being held at an art gallery, a type of venue she always enjoyed visiting. She and Rick walked through the exhibit together, discussing the various artists and their styles. Rick had offered to fetch them another refill when Kara spotted them. She hurried over before Rick could return with their glasses.

  “So?” Kara asked eagerly.

  “So, what?” she replied, acting as if she had no idea what her friend wanted.

  “How’s it going?”

  “Fine. He’s very nice. He likes art.”

  “Oh my God. Do I have to pull it out of you?” Kara was getting impatient, but in a teasing sort of way.

  “No. Ssshhh. Here he comes.”

  “Kara!” He handed the glass to his new companion. “I would have gotten you a fresh glass. I thought you would be fluttering around like a social butterfly.”

  “I’ve already made my cameo appearances for those who needed to see me.” Kara smiled. She glanced over at a group of people, recognizing someone else she needed to greet. “Oops. Spoke too soon. Be right back. Kara swooped over to the other group, leaving her friend alone with Rick again.

  Rick also had to make the rounds. He realized that he had spent almost an hour with this woman, neglecting his duties as one of the hosts. “Listen, I also have to say hello to a few people, especially the ones who wrote out big checks.” He hesitated, but then asked, “It’s been a pleasure meeting you this evening. In case we don’t run into each other before the end of the evening, would you care to have dinner with me? They’re having a private late-night supper after this. The hors d’oeuvres were good, but not enough.”

  “That would be nice, but I have plans for later tonight. A rain check?”

  “A rain check it is, then.” He fished into his breast pocket and pulled out his business card. “Call me when you’re free.”

  She put the card in her purse. “I shall. Thank you.” She put her hand out to shake his, but he took it in his and looked into her eyes. “I hope to see you very soon.” Then he kissed the back of her hand, as he had earlier that evening.

  A week later, she called him, and they made a date for dinner. He chose one of the most expensive restaurants in the city. He picked her up in a limo town car. This way, no one had to be concerned about drinking and driving, and a cab was just too shabby if he wanted to impress her. That was one talent Rick did have. He knew how to impress people—until they were no longer impressed.

  Chapter Twenty

  Colleen was pleased that Jackson had had a good day with his father. She was stunned by the way Jackson described her mother-in-law, laughing and singing. Vivian rarely smiled. As long as it was a good experience for Jackson, Colleen was happy. What she was concerned about was the nightmare he had had that night. When she heard him screaming, she flew out of bed and dashed into his room. Once she had calmed him down, he said he couldn’t remember anything except that a yellow monster with no teeth kept sticking his face in Jackson’s, and Gram was trying to pull the monster off him.

  Colleen had no idea what it could have meant, but she suspected it had something to do with his outing with his father. But Jackson had been in a fine mood when he got home. He admitted that he got a little sad when Gram dropped his dad off at Aunt Elaine and Uncle Greg’s, but he insisted that he had had a great day.

  She was also incredibly happy that Ellie had been up early and let Jackson into the yard. Colleen wished she had taken a photo of Jackson sleeping on the swin
g with Buddy underneath. Clearly, there were no nightmares there.

  Colleen fussed around the kitchen, assembling Jackson’s requested tuna fish sandwich. She looked in the pantry for sweet relish. There was none. She wondered if she could call Ellie and ask if she had any. Isn’t that what most neighbors do? Of course, Ellie wasn’t most neighbors, so she dropped the idea. “Honey? I’m sorry, but I don’t have any sweet relish to put in your tuna.”

  “That’s OK, Mom. Just put some extra celery.” Jackson seemed refreshed after playing with Buddy and taking a siesta on the bench swing. Colleen chopped up a bit more celery and tossed it in the mayonnaise-and-tuna mixture. She finished making the sandwich and handed it to Jackson on a plate, with a napkin.

  “Ms. Bowman is a really nice lady, Mom.” Jackson dived into his lunch like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

  “Easy there. You don’t want to choke.”

  Jackson made a smacking sound as he chewed, knowing that his mom would say something. She gave him a look, then smiled. Jackson did the same, then continued to eat like a normal person. “I was pretending to be Buddy. He chomps on his Bully Stick like that.”

  “You really like going over there, don’t you?” Colleen took the seat across from him at the kitchen table.

  “Yes. Like I said, she’s a very nice lady.” He took another bite. “I wish she would come out and play with us sometime. I bet Buddy would like it, too.”

  “Maybe one of these days.” Colleen wished it were true, too. “So what are you going to do this afternoon?”

  Jackson shrugged. “Probably ride my bike over to Billy’s, if that’s OK with you.”

  Billy Warren lived on the next block. Their streets were parallel dead ends, and the connecting road had light traffic. Jackson knew that once he got to the end of his block, he had to walk his bike over to Billy’s street. It seemed silly, but Colleen was wary about Jackson’s being on a bicycle where there were cars going in both directions. One slip, and he could be in harm’s way. Birchwood Lane only had five houses, so the only cars coming down the street were those owned by the people who lived there, delivery people, or friends and family. Everyone knew there were children in the neighborhood and minded the speed limit. Except for Andy. He drove as slow as molasses, but no one cared. His car was big enough to see from one end of the street to the other, and everyone knew to get out of his way.

  Andy’s house was across from Colleen’s. The house next to his, which was catty-corner to hers, had been on the market for two months. There would be an occasional open house, which was the only time Colleen worried about traffic on their street.

  She heard a car door open and close, and went to the window to see who it was. It was Marjorie Stiles, the real-estate agent, exchanging the FOR SALE sign with one that said SOLD.

  “What’s up, Mom?” Jackson was still working on his lunch.

  “Looks like we’re going to be getting new neighbors.”

  “Do they have kids?” Jackson asked.

  “I don’t know, honey. The agent just put up the ‘sold’ sign.”

  “Maybe we should go ask?” Jackson wouldn’t mind another kid on the block. At present, he was the only one.

  Colleen thought about it a minute. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to find out who was going to live on her street, so close to her house and son. “OK. Let’s go! Are you finished with your lunch?”

  Jackson wiped his mouth and turned his plate over to show her.

  “Put it in the sink, and we’ll go over.”

  Jackson obeyed and grabbed his baseball jacket. Colleen pulled a wrap around her shoulders. It was spring, but there was still a bit of a chill in the air. She put her cell phone in the back pocket of her jeans. It was always a crapshoot getting cell service. It depended on where you stood, but it was never consistent. Colleen thought she was incredibly lucky it had worked the night of the domestic disturbance; otherwise, she and Jackson would have had to climb out the window.

  They crossed the street and greeted Marjorie Stiles. “Hey, Marge! I see you sold the house,” Colleen said.

  “Hey, Colleen. Hey, Jackson. Yes. A very nice, youngish family. They have a son who is around twelve and a daughter who’s a little younger than Jackson.”

  Jackson was getting excited about the idea of having a boy on the street to play with.

  “When is the closing?” Colleen asked.

  “Next week,” Margie answered.

  “So soon?” Colleen asked.

  “Yes, they had the cash. They’d put a deposit on another house, but the deal fell through. And now they have to move out because the person who bought their house was promised a move-in date. Since it was a cash deal, we were able to put a rush on it. They’ll be moving in very soon.”

  “Wow. That is fast,” Colleen said.

  “Yeah. The Bentleys were anxious to close. It’s been on the market for way too long. I kept telling Mr. Bentley that he was asking too much, so when the cash offer was put on the table, he couldn’t snap up the money quick enough.”

  Margie leaned over and whispered in Colleen’s ear. “I’ve heard that the older kid had a run-in with the police, so keep an eye on Jackson.”

  “Great,” Colleen said sarcastically. That’s all she needed. More trouble. “Anything serious?” She held her breath.

  “Shoplifting, I think.” Margie stood back, looking at her handiwork.

  “Do you know what kind of shoplifting?”

  “I think he stole a motorcycle.”

  “What? That’s not shoplifting.” Colleen was beside herself.

  “Because he’s a minor, they went easy on him.”

  Colleen shook her head in dismay.

  “Don’t worry. His mother told me that he’s been on his best behavior since they put him in juvie for a weekend.”

  “Kind of a scared straight thing?” Colleen asked.

  “I guess you could call it that.”

  Colleen knew all too well about juvenile detention programs, having been in the teaching profession for over a decade. She had to admit that there wasn’t a whole lot to do in Hibbing. “Well, I hope you’re right about his good behavior. I have enough problems right now.”

  “Gotcha,” Marge replied. “Take it easy, Colleen. See ya, Jackson.” Marge got in her car and waved as she drove away.

  “What did you mean about problems, Mom? You and Dad?”

  “I guess you could say that. Come on. Let’s go back into the house.” Colleen was fit to be tied. She really did not need to have to worry about someone being a bad influence on her son.

  “Mom? Are you mad?” Jackson asked innocently.

  “No, sweetie. I just need to figure out a few things.”

  “You keep saying that. How long do you think you’ll be figuring things out before you figure them out?” Jackson was a smart kid, but sometimes the grown-up stuff was more than he could understand.

  “I know.” She let out a big sigh. “Are you going over to Billy’s?

  “Yep. If it’s still all right.”

  “Sure thing. You know the rules.”

  “Yes. Walk my bike on Clifton Avenue until I get to Billy’s street.”

  “And be home before dark.”

  “Right-o.” Jackson walked over to the side of the house, where he kept his bike under the carport. He wheeled it out onto the street and hopped on. “See ya later, alligator!”

  “After a while, crocodile.” She waved him off and marched back into the house.

  She was unnerved at the idea of a new family with a bad kid moving across the street. Jackson already had enough to deal with, let alone someone who could be a bad influence on him. She really needed someone to talk to.

  Colleen picked up her landline and dialed the number that was on the original card Ellie had sent over inviting Jackson to play in the yard.

  The phone rang five times before Ellie picked up.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Ellie. It’s Colleen. I am sorry to bother you, but I nee
d someone I can talk to.”

  Ellie was surprised to hear what sounded like distress coming from Colleen.

  “Sure. What’s up?” Ellie didn’t mind lending an ear.

  “I don’t know if you noticed, but the house that’s been up for sale has just been sold. I just saw the real-estate agent today.”

  “What happened?” Ellie thought selling a house in the neighborhood couldn’t be such a bad thing.

  “They have two kids. A twelve-year-old boy and a seven-year-old daughter.”

  “That might be good for Jackson, no?”

  “No. The kid was in trouble with the law.”

  “Oh, that could be a big problem.” Ellie now understood Colleen’s concern. “What kind of trouble?”

  “He stole a motorcycle. Can you believe that? A twelve-year old stealing a bike, as in the motor type.” Colleen was pacing in her kitchen. “And they only charged him with shoplifting! Amazing.”

  “I assume that’s because he’s a minor and they didn’t want him to have a serious record.”

  “Sounds that way. Ellie, I don’t know if I can handle any more trouble right now.”

  “I totally understand.”

  “They put him through that scared straight program. You know, when they’re supervised but exposed to all the horrible things that can happen to you in jail.”

  “Yes. There was a movie about it a number of years ago. I didn’t know it was something they did here.”