by Jo Leigh
When Ginny and Tilda were alone and the ticket and boarding pass were in Tilda’s hand, they hugged so hard Ginny thought she might leave bruises. But then it was time, and she watched her baby enter the building.
“You think we need to worry about her pulling a fast one and ditching the plane?”
Parker’s voice made her jump. She hadn’t realized he’d come around again and opened the passenger door. She shook her head. “Did you mean it about Tilda making it back for the weekend?”
He didn’t answer until they were both in the car and he’d inched into the flow of traffic. “I don’t know. It all depends on what happens in New York.”
The Subaru shuddered under a buffeting wind, and she gripped the dashboard. “We should have taken a commercial flight.”
“I tried. They had no more open seats. Even to Newark.”
As they made their way back to the freeway, Ginny trembled with every fear she’d had since the moment Tilda had been put in her arms. She had no idea what was going to happen, and she’d sent her daughter away without an explanation. It felt like being in hell.
* * *
THE WIND HAD picked up. Considerably. Traveling south to the airfield, there was far less traffic than driving north, but still more than Parker had expected. He heard Ginny’s thumbs hitting the keys on her cell phone. Probably a text to Tilda. Ginny hadn’t asked if it was still safe to fly, but it was obvious her whole world had narrowed to her child.
Which pissed him off.
Her child? Meg’s child. What would life have been like if his mother had had a granddaughter to look after?
He glanced at Ginny but only for a moment. She seemed empty and fragile. Not the way he was used to seeing her.
“Are you worried about flying with me? My De Havilland isn’t a commercial jet, but it’s not a puddle jumper either.”
Without looking at him, she shook her head, turned to stare out the window until he could barely see her profile. But when her phone signaled a text, the corners of her lips curled up.
After she finished typing back, she looked out the windshield.
“Not that you asked,” he said, “but I’m keeping close tabs on the weather. Besides, I won’t have clearance to fly if it gets too dangerous.”
She nodded so slightly he almost missed it.
“If it does get too bad and we’re grounded, we’ll spend the night at a motel near the airfield and take off the minute we can.”
“Okay,” she said.
It felt as if she’d spoken from clear across the country. Which made sense, since most of her was with Tilda. But something had shifted. He hadn’t been looking at her, but she’d started tapping her fingers against her phone. Her right leg bounced. “What’s wrong?”
“Are you sure your mom won’t slip and say something to Tilda?”
“Like what? She doesn’t know anything except that she’s doing us a favor by watching your kid.”
Her leg had stopped and so had the tapping. Probably because he’d snapped at her, but this was still new to him. He hadn’t known a thing until yesterday. He hated putting his mother in this position. She’d been through too much already.
The silence that followed made things easier. The closer they got to the airfield, the more he gained control of his emotions. Then his cell vibrated and he turned on his Bluetooth earbud. The news wasn’t completely unexpected. They wouldn’t be flying today.
“The wind is too strong for us to fly. We’ll find a place for the night.”
“If we don’t leave until tomorrow, do you think we’ll still be able to make it back before the weekend?”
He sighed and tried to pull back his irritation. Did she honestly not remember asking him the same question not ten minutes ago? Did she not recognize the danger she could be in? The possible danger to Tilda? They didn’t know much about Danny but if he had the resources to live abroad and stay on the move, the guy had to be pulling in some big money.
She might not have had the ideal family life she’d always wanted, but she’d been sheltered as her father’s daughter. She didn’t even know what a truly hard, uncertain life was like. “Do you think getting back for the weekend is more important than making sure she’s safe?”
The way Ginny turned to him, as if she wanted to slap him, gave him a sick sense of satisfaction. Even he could recognize there were issues at play, and that he needed to watch his temper. And his words.
“Look, I’m sorry your father’s being an ass.”
Ginny shrunk against her door.
He’d just told himself he needed to watch what he said, and he’d blown it already. “Believe me, I understand how a parent can mess you up. It had to be difficult, being without a mom, and then to have your father turn away from you like that.”
“Did you hear it all? Everything he said?”
“No. I was on hold a lot in the kitchen. You weren’t exactly being quiet though. I gathered he didn’t suspect anything about Tilda not being yours.”
Ginny let out a soft whimper. “She is mine. She’s my everything. And I don’t give a damn what he thinks of me or what anyone else thinks. Anyway, I didn’t lie to him. She is my daughter.”
Parker had overheard more than he’d admit. He couldn’t imagine the humiliation Ginny was feeling over that piece of nasty business with the philharmonic. Landry was a jerk, all right, but Parker agreed with him that Ginny’s talent had done more to get her the soloist spot than whatever strings he’d pulled.
Out of pure sympathy—no matter how short the supply—he swallowed back the argument he’d been nursing since yesterday. “I didn’t mean to get you riled up. We’re both tense. Tilda’s flight will be leaving soon, and that’s all you need to worry about for now. But when we get to the motel, we’ll have to talk. Not about your father. About what we’re going to do once we’re in New York. All right?”
She closed her eyes. He let her be, watching instead for the exit he needed. There was a motel near the airstrip, and while it wasn’t anything special, he’d heard it was clean and well kept. It also was next to a decent seafood restaurant that had a bar.
They both needed to relax if they were going to get through what could be a very precarious situation. And since she was having difficulty keeping her eyes on the goal, he’d have to take the reins. But once they got back to Temptation Bay, all bets would be off. She was going to have to come to grips with the fact that her secret was no longer hers alone.
* * *
GINNY HELD ON to her cell phone for the rest of the ride to the motel. They were inland, but not that much farther than her house. The wind was fierce. “We’re only twenty minutes from my place. Why don’t we stay there tonight?”
“I’d rather stick close. We’re five minutes from the airfield, and I don’t want to have to fight traffic if all the lights go out. They could give us the go-ahead by early tomorrow morning, and we need to hit it. Regardless of the contents, we need to get to that deposit box before Danny decides you’re a threat and puts you in his crosshairs. I’m thinking he doesn’t have your address. But until we know more, I don’t want you or Tilda anywhere near your house.”
The way he looked at her reminded her far too much of her father’s decrees about her and her life. “I assure you I’m taking this seriously. I understand there’s the potential for real danger and I’m not suggesting we don’t stay alert and aware. You’re right about not going to the house, but it’s not necessary to scold me like a child. This has all been alarming, and I’m not used to being separated from Tilda, or sending her off into the unknown. I know it’s my fault, okay? I know the notice from the bank should have raised an alarm.”
“Hey, I’m—”
“I’m not finished,” she said. “I also realize you don’t have to be doing any of this. You could have easily flown to Alaska and never looked back. I appreciate t
hat you didn’t. And that you were kind to Tilda when she was so frightened.”
“Ginny, Tilda’s my niece. I wasn’t about to leave once I understood what was at stake.”
For Tilda, she knew. Who was now on her way to his mother’s house. Where they’d claim they had every right to keep her since Ginny wasn’t much more than a legal guardian. She couldn’t say she blamed him, but... Okay, yes she did. It was obvious he didn’t understand what it was to be a de facto parent. But she didn’t dare think about anything but the next twenty-four hours, or she’d go mad.
By the time they got to their rooms—side-by-side, but not adjoining, thankfully—she was ready to collapse. As she slid her key into the door, her phone rang.
Tilda.
“Hi, sweetie. You on board?”
“I should have made you put me in first class. It’s awesome up there. They have free snacks and better everything. Even booze that they get right away. Not that I would get booze, but still.”
“Is it really so bad in coach?”
“The guy next to me is already snoring, and we haven’t even started to move yet. It’s gross.”
“Use your headphones and watch a movie. PG-13 rated, please.”
“Mom, I’m not a baby.”
“I trust you to make the right decision.”
The sigh was as clear as if Tilda had been standing right next to her. “That’s even worse than telling me I can’t.”
Ginny smiled. “I miss you already.”
“Me too. But I have to turn off my phone now. I’ll call when I land.”
“You’re going to have a stop to change planes. Call then too.”
“I will.”
“Okay, honey. I love you.” She disconnected, and realized Parker was still at his door. He’d listened to their whole conversation. What on earth did he think she was going to say that he had to monitor? Keeping her annoyance out of her expression, she turned her key and pushed the door open. He stopped her on the threshold.
“What time do you want to go have dinner?”
“I’m not hungry. I’ll pass.”
“Nope. We need to get our ducks in a row and we both need to be well fueled and ready for anything. It won’t be a long flight to New York, and I’ve arranged to land at La Guardia’s cargo terminal. It shouldn’t take us long to get to the bank, but we don’t know what we’ll find there. We can’t afford not to be at our best.”
Ginny stared down at the cement for a moment. He was right. And if she wasn’t so upset with herself for all the mistakes she’d made, she wouldn’t be feeling so belligerent. She wasn’t in the right frame of mind to call the shots. She had to trust Parker to do it, and she was grateful to have his help.
“How about seven o’clock? Does that work for you?” he asked, his voice quiet and almost sympathetic, as if he understood her internal struggle. “I’ll knock, and we can go to the restaurant next door. That’ll give us both time to rest and as long as we’ve got electricity, we can watch the weather.”
“Fine.” She looked up into his concerned eyes. “I just hope we can get Tilda to that barbecue. I know it doesn’t seem important to you, but...”
He put up a hand. “The next forty-eight hours will tell. There’s nothing we can do to make it happen faster.” He inserted his key. “Another thing. I understand you’re worried about Tilda, but try to relax. Maybe you’ll remember something else Meg might’ve told you about Danny. The name of a friend, anything that could give us a clue about what we’re up against would help.”
“I’ll try.”
She took a step inside but stalled halfway. She desperately wanted to ask him what he saw happening. Not in New York but after, when the threat was over. But that would be foolish. She needed to believe this was all going to work out for the best. It had to...
“Wait.”
He’d been about to enter his room but looked over at her.
“Spider. I think that was his nickname at one time.” Ginny tried to recall more of the long-ago conversation. “Meg mentioned something about getting a spider tattoo, but it was years ago. Back when she was still in the giddy stage.”
“Good,” Parker said, nodding, his mind clearly working double-time.
“I could be totally wrong.”
“That’s okay. Little things like that may make it possible to identify him. I’m betting the NYPD has a file on him.”
“The police?” Ginny’s stomach clenched. “What are you talking about? We can’t tell the police. We can’t tell anyone.”
He stared at her as if she’d gone over the deep end. “We’re talking about the man who might have killed my sister. You don’t think we should gather as much information as we can on him, not to mention have some muscle behind us.”
“I trust that you’ll have my back. You’ll keep an eye out. Make sure no one’s following me inside the bank.”
Parker sighed and shook his head. “Listen to me—”
“No, you listen. If we find evidence against him we can send it to the police anonymously. I can’t have this blowing up, everyone knowing about Tilda. What would that do to her?”
“Ginny, we don’t know who this guy is or what he’s capable of.”
“She’s all I have. She’s everything to me. I won’t subject her to any of this.”
He took a deep breath, then another. His expression had lost its incredulity and it was clear he was trying to ease the tension between them.
She could admit that she might not be at her best, but the police were still out of the question.
“I know you’re on edge, and you’re worried about Tilda, but I don’t think you’re being completely rational right now.”
“Promise me you won’t call the authorities until we talk more.”
“Fine. Now you promise me you’ll try to relax. We both need to be smart and make no mistakes. It’s not just about Tilda finding out. It’s about her being safe. I know that’s what you want.” He didn’t understand about her daughter. How could he? But he was also right. Ginny had to calm down. Think things through. Or she’d be no use to anyone. Least of all Tilda.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE ROOM WAS nothing to write home about, but it was clean and had a decent bathtub. As Ginny put her few toiletries away and hung up her one blouse, her thoughts were as jerky as a Ping-Pong match. She obsessed about Tilda finding out from the police or the news...or Parker. She wasn’t going to relax until she saw her daughter again and had her safely at home.
Her thoughts bounced back to Parker. How could she both despise him and feel incredibly grateful in equal measure? Fear had to be the answer. It bled through her muddled thoughts, even when things were spinning so fast she thought she’d explode. Last week the future had seemed crystal clear. Now it was a big black hole of uncertainty.
One glance at her watch brought her thoughts back to Tilda, who was probably watching something Ginny wouldn’t approve of, drinking too much soda and eating who knows what. Nowadays the airlines had menus and all kinds of things for purchase, and she’d not only given Tilda cash but one of her credit cards. It honestly didn’t matter what she spent on the flight, but Ginny didn’t want her to be ill in case of turbulence. Tilda had a phobia about vomiting, and she was all alone, and...
Oh, lord why was she crying again? It didn’t help anything. It was important to be strong. Strong enough for herself, Tilda and Meg. Strong enough to weather this storm and have the resources to be open and flexible when necessary. The burden felt too heavy, but tough. She’d faced hard times before and gotten through them. When Tilda had gotten so sick two years ago that she’d had to go to the hospital, Ginny hadn’t wavered despite being scared to death.
Talk about putting on her big-girl panties.
That made her grin. It was something Tilda said a lot—so often it made Ginny a little nuts.
But right now it made her stand taller. She got out her cell and called her daughter. It went straight to voice mail, as she’d known it would, but she wanted this to be the first thing Tilda heard when she got off the plane.
“I love you, kiddo. So much it’s crazy. I know how hard this is. But I also know that you’ve got a core of steel, because I’ve seen you face really hard things and sail through. Thank you so much for trusting me on this. We’ll see each other very soon, and I’ll keep my phone on, so call me anytime. I’m hugging you right now in my thoughts.”
After disconnecting, Ginny wanted to delete the call and try again. The assumption that Tilda trusted her was a little far-fetched, and knowing her daughter, she’d probably send her back a snide text.
No. No she wouldn’t. Tilda truly was the strongest kid she knew. She might be fourteen, but sometimes she acted as if she were twenty-five.
Stepping out of the bathroom and looking out the window, she saw there was almost as much mayhem outside—with the wind whipping the trees and blowing debris everywhere—as she felt inside herself. She should have told Tilda the truth about Meg. About everything. Trusted her with the information instead of letting fear keep her secrets.
Ginny sank to the bed, her shoulders hunched and a headache throbbing at her temples. She’d planned on telling Tilda the truth many times. Initially, she’d decided twelve would be the right age. Her daughter would be old enough to understand, even though it would take time to process the information. But when her birthday came, Tilda had been going through her first serious case of unrequited puppy love, and there was no way Ginny was going to make that worse.
At thirteen, she decided to tell Tilda the truth in stages. First, that she’d been adopted. Ginny would see how she handled that, then she’d know how to approach the second phase. But then, Tilda had entered her first science fair, and as with everything else that mattered to the little brainiac, it had become her whole universe. After Tilda had gotten the blue ribbon, Ginny had figured she’d tell her. But then, like a fool, she’d gotten distracted by the initial calls from the philharmonic.