No Way Out

by Fern Michaels

  “What do you mean?” Frank asked.

  “They love to go ‘antiquing,’ provided someone does the work for them. But getting back to how I ended up here. As I was saying, I took a drive and discovered a good supply to start with. The next thing was to find a place to put it, so I bought a local newspaper, and there was a house for rent on the main highway. It was just the right size for a store but not big enough for me to live there as well. And I didn’t want to be so close to work that it took over my entire life.”

  “That was a smart move. I marvel at people who work from home and can separate themselves after putting in an eight-hour day.”

  “Exactly. When I rented the shop, I asked the real-estate agent if there were any modest homes for sale, and she sent me here. And that’s the whole story, kit and caboodle. The only thing I’m dealing with now is all the items that I didn’t sell with the rest of my inventory. To be quite frank, Frank”—Andy chuckled—“I could be buried under all the things I have, and no one would find me for days.”

  Frank had a gruesome thought. What if that actually happened? He knew that no one on the block had ever stepped foot in Andy’s house. Then he thought about Ellie Bowman. She never stepped out of her house. Quite a contrast. Five houses and five different stories. Frank felt that he and Jeanne were probably the most ordinary of the bunch, but he hadn’t yet met the new neighbors. Perhaps they would get the prize for normalcy. Or maybe for being the most unusual. He thought that Andy and Ellie would be hard to beat. Then he thought of Mitchel, but it occurred to him that Mitchel’s problem wasn’t all that unusual. Alcoholism strikes millions of families. As they got closer to the front door, Frank’s thoughts lightened up again.

  The door was open, and Jeanne, Colleen, and Jackson were standing in the foyer, speaking to a petite brunette and a studious-looking gentleman. Two children were standing behind them.

  “Here’s my husband now. Frank, meet our new neighbors. This is Brenda.” She indicated the small woman. Frank shook her hand. “Frank Chadwick.”

  The man chimed in, “Charlie Gaynor. Nice to meet you.” The men shook hands.

  Frank ushered Andy into the crowd. “This is Andy Robertson, your next-door neighbor.”

  “How do you do.” Andy reached for a handshake.

  Charlie pointed to his children. “Randy and Megan.”

  Randy walked over to Frank and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.” Then he shook Andy’s. “And you, sir.”

  Colleen was impressed with the kid’s manners. Megan squeezed her way between her mother and father. “And I’m Megan!”

  Frank leaned over and extended his hand to her, and she eagerly shook it.

  Andy slightly leaned forward. “I can’t bend down that far or I might fall over.” He said it with a smile, causing Megan to giggle.

  She raised her hand up to greet him. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Robertson.” Then she turned to Frank. “You, too, Mr. Chadwick.”

  Colleen directed her attention to Megan. “I heard that you’re in second grade?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know which school you’ll be attending?” Colleen asked. There was a public grammar school and a private school that went from kindergarten to the twelfth grade.

  “Daniel Boone Elementary School,” Megan proudly replied. “I’m in second grade.”

  “Then you’ll be in my class,” Colleen announced.

  Megan’s eyes grew wide. “You’re going to be my teacher?”

  “Yes. We only have one second grade, and I’m the teacher.”

  Colleen saw that Megan was in awe. No one ever lived near their teacher. Teachers had mysterious lives outside of school.

  “Jackson and I usually walk together. You are welcome to join us.” She looked up at Brenda.

  “That would be very nice. Thank you. We’re going to need a little guidance as we settle in.” Brenda looked around at the piles of boxes. They were everywhere. “I’m sorry we don’t have a place to sit yet.”

  “That’s quite all right,” Colleen said.

  “We’re not going to stay,” Jeanne jumped in. “We just wanted to stop by and introduce ourselves.” She finally handed over the ziti. “I thought you might need dinner.”

  “And dessert.” Colleen handed Charlie the zucchini bread.

  Jackson looked at Randy and made a face. “It has vegetables in it.” His comment caused a flurry of giggles and chuckles.

  Charlie Gaynor scoured the room. “Andy, so you’re next door, and Colleen and Jackson are across the street, next to Frank and Jeanne.”

  Everyone was anticipating the next question. “Who lives at the end of the street?”

  “That’s Ms. Bowman. She has a dog named Buddy,” Jackson answered swiftly. “But she doesn’t come outside.”

  “Oh?” Charlie asked.

  “We’re not sure what the reason is, but she is generous and kind,” Colleen was quick to add.

  “We won’t keep you from your unpacking. As Jeanne said, we simply wanted to say hello. If there is anything you need, like where to get decent pizza, the best dry cleaner’s, the good coffee spots, let us know.” Frank, as was his wont, had taken charge.

  Words of “thanks,” “nice meeting you,” “see you soon” went around the group.

  Colleen turned as they were leaving. “Let me know when Megan starts school.”

  “Will do. Thanks again,” Brenda answered.

  The group dispersed, and Frank walked Andy back to his house. Jackson followed and continued on to Ellie’s.

  “They seem to be a nice family,” Andy noted. “At least the children are polite.”

  “She’s a librarian, and he’s an accountant. I doubt they’ll be having any heavy metal bands in the backyard,” Frank joked.

  “You’d be surprised about librarians.” Andy chuckled.

  Frank walked Andy to the entrance of the picket-fence gate. He was curious as to how much clutter was behind the door.

  “Andy, if you ever need a hand with all your stuff, we’d be happy to help.”

  “Thank you very much. I have some people who are interested in the silver. As soon as I can get to it.”

  “That’s what I mean. I’ll gladly help you with that.”

  “I appreciate the offer and will certainly keep it in mind,” Andy answered politely, knowing he would keep it in mind but never act on it. The thought of doing anything about the clutter was too overwhelming. “Thank you for escorting me. Enjoy the rest of the afternoon.” He turned and shuffled toward the front door. Frank watched in amazement. He recalled his recent conversation with Jeanne. Sure hope I’m as spry when I am ninety.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Rick was pacing the floor. He was desperate for the $5,000 he had asked for. It was the only way he could find her. Pay someone. He called his friend Christian again. “Hey, man. How’s it goin’?” He was trying to sound relaxed.

  “Hey, Rick. Everything’s good here. What’s happening with you?” Christian knew full well that something was going on, but was not sure what it was exactly.

  “Were you able to talk Kara into letting you lend me the money?”

  “First of all, it’s not about Kara ‘letting’ me. It’s about what’s best for the both of us. Kara and I are partners. You know, as in life partners?” Christian knew that Rick had no idea what a real partnership was like.

  “Yeah, man. I get it.” Rick was still pacing.

  “I need more information, Rick.” Christian was stern. “I, we, can’t write out a check without knowing where the money is going and why.”

  “That’s why I wanted you to send it via PayPal.”

  “I don’t think you’re hearing me. Check or cash. Either way, I need to know what the money is for.”

  “I said it was for a start-up, but I had to sign a nondisclosure agreement.” Rick was very close to whining.

  “If it’s such a good investment, why don’t you ask your family for the money?” That was more of a r
hetorical question. He knew why.

  “Oh, man, you know I can’t ask any of them.”

  “Well, what about some of your other friends?” Christian knew full well that Rick didn’t have any other friends.

  “Look, I need to know if you’re going to help me out or not.” Now Rick was getting testy.

  “I’m not going to send it to PayPal. That’s out of the question. It has to be a check, so I can have a record of it in case you don’t pay me back. And I need an IOU from you, indicating receipt of the loan and the terms under which you will repay it.”

  “Of course I’ll pay you back. I’ll even throw in interest. What do you want, ten percent?”

  “If it’s such a good investment, then how about giving me a cut?” Christian was testing to see how far Rick would go.

  “Plus interest?” Rick asked.

  “Why not? You’ll be making lots of money, right?”

  Rick was getting caught up in his own lie. He wasn’t going to be investing in any sort of start-up. He needed the money to find her, but he wasn’t about to tell Christian that. “Yeah. Yeah. OK. I’ll tell you what. I’ll go talk to the other investors and see if we can swing it.” In truth, Rick had no idea how he would ever repay any money he got. Nor did he intend to. What he was talking about was, all things considered, stealing money from Christian and Kara.

  “Let me talk to Kara again. But like I said, it has to be a check. So if she agrees, I’ll send it to you by FedEx. Give me your info.”

  There was dead silence on the line. “Yo, Rick? You still with me?”

  “Yeah. The thing is, I’m traveling a lot, and I don’t know where I’m going to be over the next few weeks. That’s why I wanted the PayPal thing.”

  “No can do, Rick. You think about it and call me back.”

  Rick hesitated. “Let me check my schedule. I’ll figure out where I’ll be at the end of the week and call you back.”

  “Sounds good. Later.” Christian ended the call.

  Kara was standing near him. “No?”

  “Not exactly. He’s desperate. He’s going to try to figure out something. The thing is, even if he got a check from me, how would he cash it?”

  “If he’s in Vegas, that wouldn’t be a problem. I’m sure some of the casinos would be happy to see him again,” Kara offered.

  “True. They’ll think he’s going to gamble with it.”

  Kara gave Christian a funny look. “We sound like criminals.”

  “No. If anyone is the criminal here, it’s Rick. I’m sure that he has no intention of repaying the loan, even if he had the means to do so. If you want to outsmart a criminal, you have to think like them.”

  Christian made a good point.

  “So what’s next?” Kara asked.

  “My guess is that he’ll think of something similar to what you suggested. Depending on where he is, there are check-cashing places all over. I have no idea what the limits are, but Rick is pretty cunning.”

  “That’s for sure,” Kara agreed.

  * * *

  Rick wasn’t happy with the way the conversation had gone. He couldn’t give Christian an address because he truly didn’t know where he was going to be from one day to the next. He had worn out his welcome with some of his prior gambling buddies, and he was no longer on good terms with several of the casinos. He also knew that the person he wanted to hire would not take credit or a check. It had to be cash. Up front. Otherwise, it was no deal.

  He snapped his fingers, remembering something. There was one more person he could try to woo into handing him some cash. Sheena, the previous girlfriend, before her. He knew she lived in LA and had had some bit parts in movies. Maybe she could spare a few bucks for an old flame. The relationship hadn’t ended badly. They simply grew apart, so there were no hard feelings. At least not to his knowledge. It had been almost four years. He wondered how she would react. Would the start-up story work on her? Then it hit him. He would tell her that he knew she was working her way to stardom, and that if she had a little extra cash, it might be a good idea to invest in something. He’d give her the routine: “If you’d invested $1000 in Amazon, you’d have $23,000 now, and if you’d invested $1000 in Apple, you’d have $24,000.” He’d continue with, “The company will go public in three years. Your investment will be worth over a hundred grand. You know show business is a rocky road. This way you’ll have a cushion.” Oh yeah. That was a great story. Maybe Sheena was still the little lamebrain she was when they had dated.

  He puffed up his chest and scrolled through his contacts list. He never deleted anyone’s number, just in case of situations like this one. He dialed her number. It went to voice mail. “Hi ya. You’ve reached Sheena.” Giggles. “Well, not really.” More giggles. “Hit me with your best shot. Bye for now.” Rick gave the phone a disgusted look. Some people never change, but that could easily work in his favor.

  “Hey, Sheena. It’s your old pal, Ricky Barnes.” He cringed at referring to himself as Ricky, but that’s what she had called him. “I heard you’re doing well out in La La Land. Thought I’d give a check-in and see how things are with you. I’ll call back again. Ciao.” Rick didn’t want to leave a number, and his caller ID said OUT OF AREA. And he was. He had bought a burner phone with cash. That was the only kind of financial transaction he had made for the past two years. Cash. Ever since he had bolted. Some people thought he was backpacking in Guatemala; others thought he was doing a walkabout in Australia. Obviously, neither was true. But there was one thing he was certain of. Nobody really cared.

  Even his own mother had thrown him under the bus after she wired him $10,000. She had forgiven him for bolting out of town without giving her any notice, but then months went by after she sent him the first $10,000. And he never contacted her, not until he needed more. She was livid at the audacity he showed to call and ask her to wire him cash again.

  Initially, she was worried. Why had he left so abruptly? Why was he at an airport in Chicago? The second call was the last straw. She had babied him all his life. It had practically ruined her marriage after she insisted that her husband give him a job. When that went south, she pushed his father to find him another means of support. Richard Senior was done having his ungrateful, lazy son embarrass him. He was furious when he discovered she had wired him $10,000 without discussing it with him. But that was the point. She knew that if she had brought it up, he would have uttered a resounding “over my dead body.” She loved Richard and knew he was right. Enough was enough. Tough love. Rick needed to figure it out on his own, and that would never happen if people kept bailing him out.

  Rick scrolled through his contacts list again. There had to be somebody who was still speaking to him. Someone who had some spare cash. He thought about Christian’s offer to send a check via FedEx. The question was where to have it sent without making it easy for anyone to find him. The airport routine had worked for his mother. People just assumed he was traveling. He could be going anywhere. But that meant he would have to pick it up at a FedEx location at an airport. He had to think. And think fast. The opportunity to get someone to find her was not going to last forever.

  He thought about the casinos in Atlantic City. He could still probably get comped for a hotel there, but sending money to the Atlantic City airport would be too obvious. There is nothing else to do there but gamble. No, it had to be an airport that was in a large hub but was also close to a casino.

  He pulled out his phone and hit the app for casinos. There were several in Black Hawk, about forty minutes from Denver. Perfect. If his luck held, he could probably get a free room at the Ameristar. He had walked away from their tables with almost twelve grand. They might want him back to see if they could recoup. It was worth a try. If he got the room, he’d give Christian the address of the FedEx at the Denver airport.

  Rick was feeling pretty positive about his chances of completing his search and locating her. Several things had to happen. First, he had to get himself to Denver. Second, he ne
eded to get the cash. Third, he had to get the money to the person who would do the job. Fourth, he needed to secure a hotel room. He thought about it. A lot of “ifs,” to be sure, but he had gotten himself out of bad situations several times before when he thought there was no way out. Yet he always landed on his feet. The last two years had been challenging, but he had managed. He had been casino-hopping all over the country. He didn’t make a killing at any of them. Just enough for them to want him back, but not enough to call too much attention to himself. In spite of his winnings, he still didn’t have an extra $5,000 for the job he needed done.

  He checked the time. Should he call Christian or Sheena? Still too early. He decided to go to the bar and kill some time.

  Rick walked through the lobby of the small hotel and headed down the street to a local bar. He slapped a twenty on the counter. “Milagro Silver.” It was a moderately priced tequila. He’d save up for the good stuff once he accomplished his plan. He just didn’t know when or how long it would take.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  If it hadn’t been for the change in the foliage, with all the new blossoms, it would have been hard to tell what day it was. Most of hers blurred from one to the next, except for Sundays, when she would make her weekly calls. Even Jackson’s visits were regular, except for the previous Saturday, when he had spent the day with his father and grandmother. She suspected it would be like that every Saturday—for the time being, at least until the custody hearing. She had no idea what the outcome of that would be. If Mitchel stayed on his downward spiral, he surely wouldn’t get joint custody. Colleen hadn’t spoken to him directly, so she didn’t know what kind of frame of mind he was in. Ellie felt for her. It’s one thing to know when things are horrible. You can figure out a way to cope. She knew about that all too well. That’s how she had gotten to where she was. But not knowing what is going to happen from one day to the next is terribly unsettling.