by Robin Janney
She had been surprised when Cassie told her about their mother wanting to meet Pam. It was as unlike their mother as her short temper had been. But perhaps pregnancy hormones were to be blamed for that as well.
A knock on her door drew her attention, and a bark from Princess.
“Toni’s here, Miss Angela,” Nan told her, her smile the same knowing one she’d been wearing since the day of the doctor’s appointment.
“Thank you, Nan. Tell Toni I’ll be down as soon as I close a few things down.”
Nan nodded and disappeared.
Angela sent her sister a quick apology and a promise to chat more later. She was about to close the lid when she saw the new email from Kevin appear. Opening it, she scanned it quickly.
Hi Angela,
Since Craig is an informal patient of mine, no – confidentiality doesn’t exactly apply. But he is my friend first and I would weigh anything I shared with you in that light. Unfortunately, there isn’t much to share in this case. He has spoken very little of how much your kidnapping shook him to his core, although I can’t help but see it. He did not call me much even during the time you were in the coma.
His greatest fear has always been losing you, Angela. Even when he was afraid of his feelings for you, that fear would manifest in his Dragon Dream. I don’t know what is going on with this Katie, but from the pictures you’ve sent me I see only a warm friendship. He does NOT look at her in the same way he looks at you. I know that is very little comfort, but as his friend it is the best I have to offer. –Kevin
Angela sighed. No, not very comforting, and none of it really answered her questions. Even knowing her friend was downstairs waiting for her, Angela typed a quick email to her husband’s best friend. She attached one of the latest photos sent, of her husband dancing close to the other woman and typed: Perhaps someone – like a friend? – needs to remind him of his fears? ~Angela
It was rather petty, she thought as she hit send. But she wouldn’t take the email back.
A ngela walked out the front door with her friend to go horseback riding, her dog at her heels, and Jared slipped in the backdoor. Nan smiled as she saw him.
“Afraid to be seen?” she asked him, shaking her head in amusement.
“Yes,” he answered honestly. He looked in the direction his sister had gone. “Rick and I have been talking, and we were wondering if you’d come down to his office once you’re off the clock tonight to talk about a few things.”
Nan raised her eyebrows at him. “Would I be correct in assuming that these ‘few things’ are about Miss Angela?”
“Yes. Nan, I’m worried about her. She woke up screaming from a dream again last night and I know she didn’t go back to sleep afterwards.” The young man paced the kitchen as he spoke; so much like the woman he called sister. “She had nightmares growing up, about the accident that killed our brother. None of them ever made her scream quite like she is now. It’s the same scream, but…not. I don’t know if that makes any sense. I’ve even called my Dad and talked to him about it.”
“And what does your father say about it?” asked Nan. She returned to her work while he paced and talked. Supper wouldn’t make itself.
“Well, there’s not much he can do but listen and pray is there?” asked a disgusted Jared. “Listening is what my dad does best. He may not agree with what we’ve decided to do, but he loves us just the same.”
“Father’s like that are to be treasured.”
It was said softly, more to herself than to him, but Jared answered as she had been speaking to him. “We do.”
“And have you come up with a plan your father doesn’t approve of?”
Jared shrugged. “I wouldn’t go that far. He’s not happy with my idea, but I’m here and he’s not.”
“Very well. I’ll be down around nine.”
Nodded, Jared gave the older woman a peck on her cheek. Smiling roguishly, he disappeared as quietly as he had arrived, leaving the woman smiling her small smile and shaking her head at him.
M aggie Witherspoon felt a twinge in her chest she couldn’t explain. It hadn’t been the first time she’d felt this way since the night Everett Crane had come to her and asked her to go undercover for him. The man had already known what Angela had shared with her the afternoon she’d asked for a haircut. It hadn’t been the only thing he’d already known about her.
While she couldn’t explain the feeling, she knew what it meant. Her life was about to change drastically. It had been a long and twisted path that had led her to Nikki. And the path was about to twist again.
“You’re going to do what?” she asked the woman on the other end of her cellphone.
“You heard me,” was the terse reply.
“But…but you can’t!” exclaimed Maggie, her voice shriller than usual. Casey, the young man guarding her looked up from his Xbox game, but after a moment ignored her. “It’s not her fault! She didn’t do anything to you.”
“She could have told the police who was really driving the car!” Nikki said angrily.
“She was ten, and she was in shock!” Maggie insisted, recalling what little she knew of the Crossroads Accident. It had happened years before she’d moved to the area to infiltrate Crane’s organization. “The officers there may have been Crane’s, but they didn’t know your father was a liar.”
“And if I knew their names, I’d kill them too. Or one of their kids to make them feel an even worse pain. Why are you defending my father?” Nikki demanded.
“I’m not. I’m trying to protect Angela. She was my neighbor.” And my friend, thought Maggie. “I’ve told you how often I helped calm her down after nightmares. She had nightmares about the accident just like you do!”
“And because you didn’t protect her back then, you’re trying to now? Do you really want back in Crane’s good graces that badly?”
“Don’t be absurd!”
“Then what is your problem, Maggie?”
“I just don’t want to see anyone hurt…”
“It’s too late for that. I was hurt by it years ago. No one ever thinks twice about me and how I was hurt.” There was a grief in her lover’s voice she hadn’t heard before. “I don’t plan on coming back, Maggie. I’ve left enough evidence for the police to find after it’s over. I’ll be going away for a long time, and I won’t be going alone. I’ll be taking that New York bitch with me, because no one looks down their nose at me.”
“I…I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say to that.” What was there to say to a motive like that?
“How about goodbye?”
It felt so final. “Goodbye, Nikki.”
Maggie heard the farewell echoed and then the call disconnected. With a trembling hand, she flipped the cellphone shut and slid it into her purse. It was time to get out of here, preferably without having to kill the young man guarding her.
Casey looked up from his game again, his long almost black hair hanging in his eyes. “Nikki say when she’ll be back?”
“Tired of hanging with me?” she asked him, her voice light and teasing.
The young man snorted. “No offense, but it’s no fun guarding women who won’t bang me.”
Laughing with an ease she didn’t feel, she sat beside him on the couch. “Not many men want to bang a fat chick.”
Casey shrugged. “Fat chicks need loving too. Besides, you’re not fat, just chunky.”
Smiling, Maggie leaned in close to him. “Well, Nikki just told me she’s not coming back. And I think there are things you and I could do to make me feel better about that.”
Seeing his eyes light up, she knew the next few minutes were going to be unpleasant for her. She didn’t want to kill him or even knock him out, but she needed him distracted and, in her experience, the best way to distract a man was to get into his pants.
“I didn’t know you swung both ways,” said Casey with a hitch in his voice.
She winked at him. “Come on over,” she said.
Once he’d tired
of having his way with her, Maggie stretched lazily on the floor next to him. She’d lost track of the different positions she’d endured.
“Wow,” Casey murmured with a slur. He’d had a joint at some point during an earlier lull.
She didn’t have the heart to tell him she hadn’t felt anything other than annoyed during their encounter. “Mm-hmm,” she said instead. “I’ve got the munchies. Do you want to go out with me and get something?”
“Nah,” he slurred. “You go. I’ll…”
Maggie sighed in relief as he finally dozed off. Hopping to her feet gracefully despite the extra weight she carried, she pulled her clothes on quickly. She didn’t dare take anything with her aside from her purse and her phone. Anything else would be too suspicious.
She had to be far away from here when it was realized she’d run. Pulling her cellphone out, she found the contact number Everett Crane had put in her phone years ago. When he answered, as he said he would, she spoke quickly. “It’s Maggie. I’m on the run. I don’t know the details, I’m too far away. A woman named Nikki Flynn is going to try to kill Angela. Soon, because she said she wouldn’t be talking with me again.”
“Get someplace safe and I’ll get you out when I can.”
And then the line went dead.
33
L es was irritated. Beyond irritated. Infuriated.
His first day back to work had been filled with questions about his son and his son’s absent wife, and the all-too-present Katie. He had known his son had been going out with friends, but he hadn’t realized the extent of how often those friends had included Katie. Now, as Les and his wife prepared for the welcoming party Eddie’s secretary and his own had organized for him, he wished fervently for some way to keep Andy Miller’s wife home. The man had called off today so perhaps he was going to play hooky for the party too. One could only hope.
“What’s wrong Les?” asked Veronica as she came into his bedroom.
“Nothing,” he lied. “It’s just been a long day.”
“Are you sure you’re up to this?” she asked with concern.
“My nap helped, but perhaps a cup of coffee?”
“Of course,” she smiled.
He watched her leave the room. She would be in her element tonight and she’d dressed the part. She’d added blonde highlights to her sable colored hair, and it was done up high on her head in a braided bun. Some tendrils along her neck were loose in the way he liked, and the long strands curled provocatively on her bare shoulders. And her dress was red. Had it been ten years earlier, his mind would have already been on what he planned on doing when they left the party.
Her confession had changed that part of their life. Even though he had relented from the divorce he’d originally asked for, even though he still felt an affection for her, it had changed. Would it ever change back? After what he had seen from the internal cameras this afternoon, he wasn’t sure.
He wheeled himself around to look at himself in the long mirror the room had. They had managed to get his best black suit on, and Les decided he looked pretty good for his age, and his wheelchair. He was running his hands over his bald head when Veronica returned with his coffee, Craig on her heals.
“Veronica says you’re tired?” asked Craig as his stepmother handed the coffee to Les.
“My nap wasn’t as restful as I hoped,” Les answered. He slurped at his coffee angrily; it was too hot, even with liquid creamer in it, but he didn’t care. “Why aren’t you wearing a tie?”
His brusque question agitated his son.
“I stopped wearing ties years ago, so I didn’t think to pick one up when I was shopping,” answered Craig as he looked down at him casual suit. “It’s not like I was planning on going to a party when I came here.”
“Borrow one of mine,” advised Les. His son’s disapproval over his father’s return to work was clear. It wasn’t his son’s clothing angering him, but it would suffice as a target for now. He gestured to the closet.
Grumbling, Craig moved to obey his father. Standing at the closet with the door open, he said, “If you’re tired, Dad, we don’t have to go.”
“The party’s in my honor.” He ignored his wife’s look of curiosity at his terseness. “Besides, I’ll be sitting for the entire thing, how much more tired will I get? No, not that tie.”
Craig put the brown tie back. He showed his father a darker one that looked more plum than brown.
“That’ll do.” Les watched his son struggle with the tie. Then watched with interest as Veronica sprung into her mothering role.
“Here, Craig, let me…”
“I know how to knot a tie,” Craig said as he stepped away from her.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she replied, gently brushing imaginary dust off his shoulders. “You’ve never known how to knot a tie.”
“Fine.”
As he watched his son stiffen while Veronica fixed the boy’s tie, Les wondered if there had been anything else on the other internal camera’s other than the moment he’d seen his wife snooping in Craig’s phone. Maybe he needed to check video recorded during the night hours, or when he was away to work and therapy. Whenever they were all together like this, he could see no evidence of anything other than Veronica trying to be the boy’s mother again. Again he wondered, would his son be able to tell him if there had been anything other than these mothering attempts?
“There,” said Veronica happily. She tugged the tie into place and patted the knot. Her hands plucked at the collar of the suit jacket, straightening it when it didn’t really need it. “That’s much better. Is there anything else you need, Les?”
He held out his empty coffee cup. “Two minutes with my son before we leave.”
“Of course. I’ll just take care of this and grab my bag.”
Les waited for her to leave, grateful she shut the door behind her. “What’s your biggest problem tonight, Craig?”
“Aside from my father making me wear a tie like I’m ten years old again?”
His son’s attempt at humor wasn’t heartfelt and Les could tell. “Yes, besides that.”
Craig shrugged irritably and walked to the large bedroom window. “There are a lot of things bothering me right now, Dad. My wife has stopped seeing her psychiatrist, the gossips have me fooling around on her, and you’re insisting on going to a party even though you’re tired.”
“I’m not too tired for this party,” said Les. “And you going home or bringing Angela here would fix the other two problems.”
“My wife should be able to stick to a schedule without me there to hold her hand,” answered Craig crossly. “And I should be able to have fun with a friend without it being something more.”
“In a perfect world, I would agree with you,” said Les. “But we don’t live in a perfect world. If we did, I’d have been able to dodge that bullet and your wife would never have been abducted before your eyes days after you married her. But, here we are.”
His son sighed, his gaze steady out the window. He could tell his son wasn’t even seeing the view. “I didn’t think it would take this long for her to heal, Dad. Sometimes, it feels like she’s only getting worse.”
Drawing a deep breath and thinking back on the most recent conversation he’d had with his son’s father-in-law, Les considered his answer carefully. “Have you considered it’s your absence which is affecting her the most right now?”
“I have, and it makes me angry. I can’t be by her side 24/7.”
“Why not?” he asked his son. “You were like that during her coma. I know your mother-in-law brought you food more than once during that time. Are you regretting your vows?”
His son ran a hand through his hair. “No, I’m not, Dad. It’s just…I don’t want to have to take care of her all the time.”
“Craig, that’s exactly what your vows were about. And you said them to her twice. Both times I assumed you were aware there would be ongoing mental issues.” He took a breath, waited a beat. “Are you saying
you want a divorce?”
“What? No!” His son turned back to him, panic on his face. The struggle on his face was disconcerting, especially when he continued with, “Come on, Dad. Didn’t you ever need a break when Mom had cancer? Grandma Annie said you both took turns taking care of her the closer she got to delivering me.”
Pain shot through Les at the memories his son had evoked. The two circumstances didn’t even compare, but he spoke as if they did. Where had the man who had stayed by his new wife’s bedside for months gone? “I’m not sure what your grandmother did when she wasn’t with Connie, but my ‘breaks’, as you call them, were checking in with the firm, having drinks with Eddie, taking in a Mets game. And neither of us were gone from her side for more than an afternoon. Overnight at the most. You’ve been here almost two months, Craig. That’s not a break, it’s a separation. And don’t try to blame it on this…” He waved at his wheelchair. “It may have been what brought you here, but it’s not what’s keeping you from going home. And I don’t understand that, because I know you’re not happy here, no matter how much fun you may be having with Katie. You say you’re tired of taking care of your wife, but I’ve seen the happiness she brings you. Is this really how you feel, or has someone else sold this line to you?”
His son’s face had hardened the longer he spoke. “Are we done?”
Letting out a frustrated breath, Les let the subject drop. “Yes. So, let’s get going then. I don’t want to be late for my own party.”
The younger man had no choice but to follow as he wheeled out of the bedroom, angry with himself for having mishandled the conversation. Les was happy with his new wheelchair, it was more comfortable, and he was able to go faster than he had in the manual chair. Had he been asked, he wouldn’t have been able to tell what exactly about the new chair was more comfortable.
The trip to the hotel where the firm had booked a conference hall for the evening was long. Not in distance, or in actual time. He was discouraged, his son was sulking, and Veronica, sitting in the middle of them in the back of the limo, felt the need to make small talk to make up for the silence between father and son. After neither responded to her, she sighed and joined them in their silence.