Tropical Storm - DK1

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Tropical Storm - DK1 Page 68

by Melissa Good


  “Oh, aren’t you clever.” The old woman patted her arm. “Eustace, look at how wonderful our niece looks.” She peered over Kerry’s shoulder. “Honey, your daughter looks just great.”

  Kerry turned to see her mother bearing down on them. She paused and eyed Kerry, then gave a grudging nod of approval at her daughter’s appearance. “Well, she knows how to make an appearance, of course,” the older woman stated loftily. “Dear, your Uncle Milton desperately wants to say hello to you.”

  “Sure,” Kerry replied. “Where is…oh, right. I see him.” Her uncle towered above the rest of the crowd by a good six inches. “Okay, I’ll go over.”

  She started towards him but stopped when her mother pulled her aside a little and looked her over.

  “You do look very nice, Kerrison,” she finally admitted, pulling at a tendril of Kerry’s pale hair.

  Kerry let her smile touch her eyes. “Thanks…Mom, I really like the way I look, and everyone else does, too. So can you lay off on the criticism?”

  Her mother stiffened “I wasn’t…”

  “I’m over it,” Kerry said very softly.

  Her mother stared at her, totally at a loss. “Well, I never.” She shook her head and turned, moving away from Kerry with a bewildered look.

  “Jesus, I’d have to apply for a credit card just to order her a clue.” Kerry sighed as she resumed her walk towards her uncle.

  She was intercepted by Brian, who approached her tentatively, then more confidently as she waved him forward. He was a tall man with sandy hair and a loosely knit way of walking, large, powerful hands, and a handsome, boyish face. “Hello, Bri.” She pulled him into a hug, hearing him suck in a breath.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Really okay.”

  He relaxed and allowed his arms to circle her, giving her back a hug

  “Kerriboo, I’m sorry.” His voice was very soft. “I should have called you, I…”

  “Shhh.” Kerry patted his back. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it, I’m fine. It worked out better this way, honest.” They broke apart, arms still loosely linked about each other. “You’re still one of my best friends, okay?”

  He smiled and touched his forehead to hers, while aunts and uncles cooed around them. “Aren’t they cute?”

  Green eyes and gray ones met and rolled together. “C’mon, if I have to run the gauntlet, you should at least be with me,” Kerry whispered, taking him by the arm and starting across the floor.

  414 Melissa Good It was a long dinner, around the huge table, in the formal dining room.

  Kerry found herself seated between a gaggle of her older relatives, with Brian down the table somewhat and her sister at the other end. Her father and Kyle, fortunately, were also at the other end. She kept her table-mates entertained with stories about Miami and the customs there until the dinner was over, and they were all standing up, ready to move into the living room for drinks and conversation.

  Maybe she’d get lucky, Kerry mused, and they’d leave it for tomorrow; in front of all the family would be a bad move. She allowed herself to be dragged into several conversations, and before she knew it, the clock was ringing the midnight chimes, and the guests were starting to leave. She stood and got Angela’s attention, then made her goodnights and headed for the stairs.

  “Kerrison.” Her father’s voice.

  Kerry exhaled, taking a moment to compose herself before she turned around. “Yes?”

  He was standing in the doorway, face very grim. “I need to see you in my study, now.”

  Oh well, wishful thinking. Kerry ran a hand through her hair and gathered up her courage. “All right,” she replied, and walked towards the study door.

  She opened it and passed through. Kyle was in there, perched on her father’s broad desk with a smirk on his face. She heard the door close firmly behind her, and Kerry knew, as a shudder passed through her guts, that she was in trouble.

  Her father walked past her and went behind his desk, then pushed a very familiar file folder across it towards her. “I’d like you to explain this.”

  Kerry remained silent while she pondered her options. Well, conciliation wasn’t going to do any good, so… “Only if you can explain why you feel it necessary to search my personal belongings,” she responded quietly, putting her hands on the back of the chair before the desk and gazing evenly at him.

  “Don’t smart-mouth me, girl,” her father warned.

  “I’m not, but I am an adult, and I have the right to carry around whatever things I want to in my briefcase, Dad.” She kept her voice reasonable. “And not have to worry that people inside my own parents’ house are ransacking them.” Her temper was building, though. She could feel it.

  He thumbed through the pictures, then looked up. “You know what I think? I think I know the reason you all of a sudden decided you wanted to stay down in that hell-hole.” Kerry remained silent. “I think it has nothing to do with your damn little job and everything to do with that bitch you work for.” He slammed his fist down on the table. “What did she do to you, Kerry?

  Minute movements of her eyes as she studied him. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing? You call this nothing?” He picked up the folder and threw it at her, scattering colorful photographs over the carpet. “I’ll have the law on her!

  It’s obvious to me what’s going on, Kerry. In fact, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” He paced back and forth. “Didn’t you think I could help you?”

  Kerry’s brows knit. “Just what is it…you think she did?” she asked, honestly puzzled.

  “Forced you into that job, of course! Her reputation… Well, I can’t say that in front of you, but it’s obvious what she’s after…my god, girl!” He threw Tropical Storm 415

  up his hands. “First thing we have to do is get you out of there, then I’ll file a formal protest. Don’t you worry, girl, she won’t be able to come after you.”

  “Whoa!” Kerry held up a hand. “Let me get this straight, you think Dar’s trying to seduce me?”

  Her father reddened. “Watch your language, young lady.” He cleared his throat. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  Kerry exhaled. “No, Dad, she’s not trying to seduce me, and she didn’t force me into that position, either. It was my choice.”

  “Stop trying to protect her!” Senator Stuart barked. “It’s no good, Kerry, unless you can give me another reasonable explanation of those pictures!”

  Long silence. “All right,” Kerry finally said, very quietly. “It’s a lot simpler than you think. We’re in love with each other.”

  She could hear the carpet fibers unraveling in the deathly stillness that followed her words. The building creaked around them, and she became very aware of her own breathing. She had not, in the furthest stretches of her imagination, considered this conversation going in quite this way.

  “What?” her father finally said, stepping around his desk and facing her.

  Kerry felt curiously calm. “Dar’s a very special person, and we’re in love with each other,” she repeated. “And she didn’t force me into…”

  The impact slammed her against the filing cabinet next to the desk as her father slapped her hard across the cheek.

  “Don’t you dare say that.” His voice was a hiss. “No daughter of mine is one of those.” Kerry straightened up and put a hand to her cheek, staring at him. “You are going to resign from that godless company, and I’ll have your apartment packed up and brought home,” he enunciated softly. “And we’re not going to hear you say anything like that ever again, are we?”

  Kerry could hear her own heartbeat thundering in her ears as she came to a personal crossroads. She stared at him for a long moment, breathing hard, then took a final deeper breath. “Go to hell.” She spat the words in his face.

  “I’d rather live homeless than come back here.”

  He started forward, but she backed up and put the chair between them, so intent on his progress that she forgot there was anoth
er person in the room.

  Until a hand slipped over her neck and something foul and sharp-smelling was pressed to her nose and mouth. She struggled wildly, but the grip was too strong, and her body made her breathe through the stink.

  A numb feeling came over her, and a growing darkness, and a chilling cold.

  Chapter

  Thirty-one

  DAR WOKE IN a sweat, half rolling out of bed in total disorientation as her senses tried to force the unfamiliar surroundings into some semblance of order. Her heart was pounding, and she was breathing hard, and she gripped the edge of the bed with shaking fingers. “Jesus.” She looked around in confusion, seeing only the peaceful moonlight streaming in the double hung window of the Eastons’ guest room.

  “What in the hell was that?” she murmured, running her fingers through her hair and swallowing against the upset in her stomach. “Too much stuffing, I think,” she ruefully concluded, realizing it must have been a bad dream brought on by shameless overindulgence in just about everything that night.

  Slowly, she straightened up and let out a breath, now wide awake and knowing she’d be unlikely to drop back off to sleep anytime soon. “Guess I could read a book,” she muttered. “Except I don’t have any, and the only thing I saw downstairs was Jane’s Military Hardware, and I’ve already read that.”

  Sighing, she stood and walked to the small antique writing desk that was settled against the window and sat down, unzipping her briefcase and pulling out her laptop as she gazed out across the silver and sable landscape. She booted the machine and sat drumming her fingers until it came up, then she plugged in the modem line and requested a network connection. “Might as well check the mail, see if there are any crises going on,” she murmured to herself, glancing at the time on the laptop. Only just past midnight; she’d only been sleeping for about a half an hour, since the Eastons held to the early to bed, early to rise military tradition, and she hadn’t minded since she’d been up since very early to catch her 6:00 AM flight.

  The machine connected and started to download her mail, and she watched it idly, scanning the headers. Then she noticed the blinking box in the corner, and her brows creased. One of her running bots? Puzzled, she clicked on it, and watched the box expand.

  Database Access Request—Scan Match—String “Stuart, Kerry”

  Medical Benefits Card usage 00:23 112798

  Admitted Bryan’s Counseling Center Ident 999823

  Dar’s heart started pounding again, and she suddenly felt lightheaded.

  With shaking fingers, she did a search for Bryan’s, and found them in the client database. She pulled up their profile.

  Tropical Storm 417

  Bryan’s Counseling Center

  Account A0022323

  A psychiatric research and treatment center designed to evaluate short and long term mental illnesses and provide strategies for adjustment of deviant behaviors to assist patients in rejoining the societal norm.

  A counseling center? Dar stared at the screen in puzzlement. Why in the hell would Kerry have gone there? Was it a mistake? Or could she have been in an accident, and maybe it was the closest… She reread the description. “Deviant behaviors,” she mouthed silently to herself. “Oh no.” Her eyes jerked to the window, and her breathing sped up.

  “Oh my god.” Dar breathed. “Those sons of bitches.” Slowly, she put her hands down on the writing table and closed her eyes, forcing herself to be calm. “Okay, think.” Brain first, heart second, wasn’t that what she’d always said?

  Bloody hell! Doesn’t count when you’re in love, now does it? “Son of a fucking bitch!”

  First thing, she needed to get to Michigan. With that decided, she shut the computer down and put it away, then quietly changed into her clothes, and packed her bag up. Then she went down the hall and into Jack’s room, where her friend was sprawled across his bed in an orgy of slumber.

  “Jack.” She knelt and touched his shoulder, getting an almost instant fluttering of pale eyelashes. “Wake up.”

  “Wh…uh…” Jack rolled onto one side and peered at her. “Dar? What’s going on?”

  “Listen, I have a friend in a lot of trouble. I need to get out to Michigan.

  Can you drive me to the airport?”

  He blinked at her. “There aren’t any planes this late, Dar.”

  “I’ll rent one,” the executive told him in utter seriousness. “But it’s gotta be quick, speed counts.”

  “Wh…” Jack nibbled his lip. “Speed counts, huh?” He rubbed his face.

  “How does Mach Two strike you?”

  It was Dar’s turn to blink. “What?”

  “C’mon. The base is closer than the damn airport, and my cat’s just sitting there collecting dust. I’ll take you.”

  “Jack, you can’t just do that,” Dar said softly. “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but it’s not worth risking your ass, not to mention your career. I’m not living with you stuck in a Navy brig for twenty years. I just need a ride to the damn airport!”

  He laughed. “Dar, you’re worth risking my ass for, but it’s not in any danger.” He stood up and tugged his flannel pajama bottoms up. “I’ll just get Dad to approve it, gimme a minute.” He trotted off down the hall, leaving slightly stunned eyes following him. “Those stars come in handy, y’know.”

  “Got troubles, then, do we?” General Easton’s rumble traveled down the hall, followed by the General himself. “Problems, Dar?”

  “Friend in trouble,” Dar replied quietly. “Someone who means a lot to me.”

  418 Melissa Good Easton’s eyes studied her intently. “Good enough.” He picked up the phone in Jack’s room. “Get dressed, son. You can’t be driving that damn plane in your jammies.” He motioned Dar to turn towards him. “Look this way, Dar, Mister Prude there is afraid to go to half-staff in front of you.”

  If Dar hadn’t been so worried, she would have laughed, but she faced towards him and heard Jack curse as he got tangled up in his shorts.

  “Who’s this? … Right, this is General Easton, from the Joint Chiefs.”

  Easton waited a few seconds. “No time for all that nonsense, son, just listen. I have a pilot coming down to file a flight plan from here to…” He thought a minute. “No, Wurtsmith is too far, Kent County would probably be your best bet.”

  “That’s civ,” Jack muttered, pulling a shirt over his head.

  “It’s after midnight up there, won’t matter,” his father covered the receiver and whispered back. “Kent County, and I’ll need a liaison up there with a car for him.” He paused, listening. “That’s right, good man.” He hung up. “Right, all set.”

  Dar regarded him quietly. “I owe you one, Gerry. I owe you both.”

  A faint smile crossed the older man’s face. “Consider it payment for a long-gone debt, my friend.” He shook his head a bit. “Someday we’ll have to have a beer and I’ll tell you about it.”

  Dar nodded. “All right.” She turned to see Jack slipping into his leather jacket. “Ready?”

  He ran a hand through his stubble. “My hair look okay?” His eyes twinkled gently.

  “Like a short carpet.” Dar exhaled. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter

  Thirty-two

  KERRY WAS CHIEFLY aware, first, of a pounding headache. She kept her eyes closed and let the throbbing, in time with her heartbeat, subside a little before she let her lids drift up. She was lying down, in a railed hospital bed, in a stark, forbidding white room. “Oh my god.” She breathed faintly, letting her eyes roam around. It was small, with one door on the outside wall and another on the inside, bare concrete walls and polished tile floors. The one small window to her right had bars on it and was curtained.

  The bed she was on was utilitarian, but she noticed a full set of restraint straps, which were, as yet, unfastened, their mute threat sending a pulse of fear through her. Slowly, she got up and slid her feet over the edge of the bed, letting herself down on the cold tile that stu
ng her bare feet. Her clothes had been taken, and she’d been left in a thin cotton hospital gown, which she tugged around her as she padded over to the door and tried the handle.

  Locked.

  She wandered over to the window and peered out, pushing the curtain aside to see a bleak landscape of dead trees which surrounded the building.

  “Oh my god, I can’t believe he did this.”

  She had no idea where she was. She had no way of contacting anyone.

  Her eyes glanced down and noted they’d taken her watch as well, making her unable to distinguish what time it was. It could have been minutes she was lying there, it could have been hours. She walked over and leaned her elbows on the bed. “You’re in a lot of trouble, Kerry,” she murmured. “You should have just stayed in Miami and had turkey roll.”

  How long would they keep her here? Long enough to make the company think she’d abandoned her job? Sure. Long enough to where Dar, not hearing from her, would start to question whether she’d just…changed her mind?

  No. Surely Dar would know there was something wrong. Even if she had changed her mind, she wouldn’t do it without at the very least, telling her boss in person. Dar knew that.

  Didn’t she?

  It was Dar’s one weak spot, and she knew it—that one vulnerability only fleetingly alluded to, but which had struck her hard, and which haunted her even at their parting, when the taller woman had given her a hug, and said,

  “See you Monday, right?”

  She would never abandon Dar. She knew that. But she realized that at some deep level, it was hard for Dar herself to believe it, and that made this one facet of her lover very, very fragile. “I have to get out of here.” Kerry 420 Melissa Good drummed her fingers on the bed.

  The tiny shutter in the door shot open, and eyes peered through, then the door opened and admitted what appeared to be a nurse in white scrubs. The woman carried a clipboard and several small cups. “Well, good, I’m glad you’re awake.”

  Kerry decided on the calm approach. “Where am I?”

  The nurse made several marks on the clipboard before she answered.

 

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