Death by Latte

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Death by Latte Page 3

by Linda Gerber


  I tiptoed over to the door, half expecting it to be locked, but the handle turned easily in my hand. Slowly, I cracked the door open just enough to see the three of them at the end of the narrow hallway, heads bent together around the kitchen table, an open laptop before them.

  “Look at the coordinates,” Stuart was saying. “This could be it.”

  “Verified?” Mom asked.

  “Not yet. I can put a call in to—”

  Mom laid a hand on his arm and he stopped. “Aphra,” she said, “could you close the door, please?”

  I pulled back, face burning. I clicked the door shut and stood staring at it. In that instant, I was a little kid again, caught spying on the grown-ups. I wasn’t one of them. I didn’t belong with them. I shook my head to clear it of that thought. I did belong with my mom. Didn’t I? Just not at that moment.

  I stood hugging my arms. The room began to feel very small. Confining. I paced. For the record, it took only four long strides to cover the entire length. Before long, I began to feel claustrophobic.

  I pushed back out onto the little “balcony.” At least I could breathe out there. Leaning out over the railing, I peered at the little patch of visible lake. It was hardly worth the effort. I folded my arms, resting my elbows on the railing, and blew out a breath. What was I supposed to do for the next however-long?

  “Nice morning, huh?”

  I had been leaning out to the right to see the lake and hadn’t noticed that there was a guy on the next balcony to the left. He had a tall, lean frame and, judging by the smoothness of his face, couldn’t have been much older than me. The sun-bleached tips of his tousled mocha hair seemed to catch the light when he moved. Dark eyebrows raised in question over deep brown eyes. He smiled and I swear it was like the sun had broken through the clouds.

  I realized my mouth was hanging open and closed it. “I’m sorry,” I managed. “I didn’t realize anyone was out here.”

  His smile broadened. “No worries.”

  I stood there, feeling awkward and obvious, and ran my hand down the front of my shorts, smoothing out the wrinkles. Suddenly I wished that I had taken Stuart’s suggestion to freshen up.

  “I haven’t seen you around before,” he said. “Are you new?”

  “Oh. I’m . . .” I shuffled my feet and reached for the comfort of the chain around my neck that held Seth’s ring. “I’m just here visiting my mom.”

  “Well, welcome to the neighborhood.” He stretched his arm across the space separating the balconies. “I’m Ryan, by the way.”

  I shook his hand. His grip was firm and his rough skin warm. I swallowed and pulled my hand back. Why was my mouth suddenly so dry? “I’m Aphra,” I croaked.

  “So, Aphra, how do you like Seattle?”

  I said, “It’s nice,” and then groaned inside. What an insipid answer!

  “How long will you be with us?”

  “I—I’m not really sure.”

  He leaned casually against the railing. “I know what you mean. I’m a part-timer myself.”

  “Part-timer?”

  “Yeah, I work the salmon season up in Ketchikan to pay for school. I only come down here to make deliveries.”

  “What school do you go to?”

  He grinned. “UW Seattle, where else? Go Huskies!”

  “Oh. So . . . do you take a boat to Ketchikan, or . . .”

  His laugh danced in the air between us. “Are you kidding? No way. I fly.” Then he glanced at the ladder and back at me. “Have you been up to the roof yet?”

  I followed his gaze. “Um, no.”

  “You’ve got to go up there. Great view . . . although there’s not much to see this morning; it’s too overcast. On a clear day, we have a pretty spectacular view of Mount Ranier.”

  “I hope I can see it sometime.” And I meant it, too. I hoped my mom would let me stay long enough.

  “You can see the lake from up there. And my plane.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Come on. I’ll show you.” He hoisted himself up onto the railing and then out onto the ladder in one smooth motion, pausing just a second to turn and look back down at me. “Do you need help?”

  Was he kidding? I’d been rock climbing since I was ten. I’d even climbed a trellis or two. “I’ve got it.”

  I followed him up the ladder, pushing aside the little uneasy quells that said my mom wouldn’t be happy to find me gone from the room. But if she was going to ignore me, what did she expect? Plus, come on. Like I wasn’t going to follow this guy.

  Ryan reached back from the top and offered his hand to help me up the last few rungs and onto the roof. This time I accepted his offer. He pulled me up, and it could just be wishful thinking, but I’m pretty sure he held on to my hand longer than was absolutely necessary.

  I had to admit, the view was much more impressive from the roof than it had been from the balcony. Lake Union stretched out to one side, the water gray blue under the haze of clouds. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Just wait until the clouds burn off,” Ryan said. “You won’t believe the view.” He crossed to the far side of the roof and leaned against the half wall. I followed as if magnetically linked with him.

  “There’s my baby,” he said, beckoning to me.

  I was already right next to him, but I couldn’t help it. I took another step forward. He leaned close, nearly touching his face to mine, and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Look down there, you see those docks?” He pointed down to the lake and the motion pulled me even closer. “The second one from the end. You see that plane?”

  I did. Just the top of it.

  “That’s mine.”

  “Cool.”

  “Well, actually, it’s my family’s, but I fly it when I’m working.”

  He flashed another smile and my stomach flip-flopped. I pulled away and crossed to the other side of the roof. He followed, chatting easily about the joys of flying and how he’d gotten his pilot’s license through the Civil Air Patrol when he was just sixteen. I hardly heard his words because of the alarm bells suddenly clanging inside my head.

  I’m not quite sure why it took so long for me to come to my senses. Maybe because I was hungry for some normal conversation. Maybe because I was enjoying his proximity so much. But I knew my mom wouldn’t be happy about me risking her cover, sneaking about and making contact with her neighbors—even polite, charming, and exceedingly good-looking neighbors.

  I backed toward the ladder. “Um . . . I should probably go. It was nice meeting you.”

  “Yeah. You, too.” He gave me one last dazzling smile. “I’ll see you around.”

  I’ll admit to being more than just a little disappointed that he stayed on the roof instead of climbing back down with me, but what did I expect? He probably thought I was a stupid little girl who had to get home before her mommy got mad. And he would be right.

  After my rooftop encounter, there was no way I could stay confined in the tiny room. I grabbed my backpack and tapped on the door before opening it. Mom, Stuart, and Joe stared at me from the kitchen table.

  “Excuse me,” I said. “Would it bother you if I took a quick shower? I don’t think I can stand these clothes a minute longer.”

  They exchanged glances. Stuart shrugged. Joe scowled. Finally, Mom gave me a brief nod. “Yes, of course. Go ahead.”

  I thanked them and padded down the hall to what Stuart had called the commode—a term I hadn’t heard since my dad and I left South Carolina years before.

  Even in the bathroom, Stuart’s fixation with order was evident in the way the towels were folded over the bar and the rubber shower mat was aligned at right angles to the wall. More color-coordinated towels were stacked neatly, square in the center of the toilet tank, and a bottle of hand soap had been perfectly placed on the back corner of the sink.

  I grabbed my clean clothes from my backpack and stripped out of my old ones, stuffing them into a plastic bag I had brought for that purpose. The chain holding Seth�
�s ring came off next, and I zipped it securely into a little outer pocket of my backpack before stepping under the water.

  I suppose I took a leisurely shower; I wasn’t really keeping track. All I knew was that my options within the apartment were severely limited and I preferred the feel of warm water drizzling over my head to the claustrophobia of the back room. I didn’t think I took that long, though, so I was more than a little bit taken aback when someone started pounding on the door. I still had to rinse my hair.

  “Just a minute!” I called.

  “Hurry up!”

  I could tell by the cranky tone that it was Joe. I almost wanted to take longer just to spite him, but I knew that would have been childish. Satisfying, but childish. I don’t know what I had done to make him dislike me so much, but it was clear he did. And, in turn, that didn’t endear him to me.

  Still, I wanted to keep the peace with my mom, so I hurried to finish my shower. I had barely turned off the water when he pounded again. What was his problem? I toweled off as quickly as I could and wiggled, still damp, into my clothes. All I could do with my hair was pull it back into a quick ponytail.

  I opened the door and Joe nearly fell into the bathroom. He must have been leaning on it from the other side. I gasped and stepped back, but he grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the room. “About time,” he growled, and pushed past me into the bathroom.

  “Wait.” I reached out to stop the door from closing. “Just let me get my—”

  Slam!

  I turned to complain to my mom, but she and Stuart stood at the kitchen counter now, furiously discussing something in low, agitated voices. I edged closer.

  “. . . every day in the same exact place,” Stuart was saying. “I know when something has been moved.”

  Mom shook her head. “I understand, Stuart. But that doesn’t mean—”

  “No? Well look at this.” Stuart turned the screen of his laptop toward her. “You know I monitor everything that comes in and out of this place, right? I even put tracking code in my own computer, which he must not have been counting on.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “This.” Stuart tapped the screen. “It’s Langley. He sent them a message last night.”

  It wasn’t until that moment that Mom even noticed I was standing there. “Aphra, I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  I gestured back toward the bathroom. “But my—”

  Her look silenced me. I shuffled—as slowly as I could—down the hallway, but I didn’t need to worry; she had already forgotten me. I leaned against the wall just out of her line of vision and listened.

  “What did it say?” she whispered to Stuart.

  “I don’t know. It was encrypted and it will take me a while to work it out. But look . . . the same office, two days ago. And this”—I could hear him tap the computer screen—“last week. He’s been in constant contact with someone in that office. Why? What isn’t he telling us?”

  Mom made a disbelieving sound. I don’t know if she was denying it was true or if she just didn’t want to accept it. “He could be talking with an old friend. Joe was with the Agency for over twenty years; he’s got a lot of colleagues.”

  Stuart’s voice sounded peeved. “Okay, if you say so. You’re the boss.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine,” she assured him. I hadn’t been around long enough to be the best judge, but to me, her confidence sounded forced.

  Joe came out of the bathroom then, in as foul a mood as he’d entered. Mom and Stuart fell silent and didn’t even respond while Joe griped and complained. Whatever it was the three of them had been discussing before, Joe was obviously not very happy about it.

  “You two do what you want,” he snapped. “I’m going back to the Market. In case you have forgotten, Natalie, we have a scheduled contact today. One of us should be there.” With that, he grabbed the keys from the counter and slammed out the door.

  Stuart shot a meaningful look at my mom, but she studiously ignored him. Despite her outward calm, though, I could practically feel the tension building, filling the room.

  I realized once again that the timing of my visit had been supremely bad. But I couldn’t have known. It wasn’t my fault. At least, that’s what I tried desperately to believe.

  CHAPTER 3

  After Joe slammed out of the apartment, no one moved or spoke for a full minute. Mom finally broke the silence. “I checked with the airlines,” she said, glancing up at me. “There aren’t any direct flights until six.”

  So she had been aware that I was still standing there. I wasn’t sure whether to act chagrined or innocent. “Um, okay.” A six-o’clock flight meant I wouldn’t have to be to the airport until four-thirty or five. At least I’d get to spend part of the day with my mom.

  Or not. Stuart moved his laptop closer to her. “That will give us just about enough time to go over these witness statements.” He gave me an apologetic smile. “It’ll only take a moment. You don’t mind, do you, darlin’?”

  Of course I minded. And I hoped Mom did, too. I waited for her to say something, but her eyes flicked over to whatever was on Stuart’s screen and she didn’t give me a second thought.

  I grabbed my backpack from the bathroom and retreated to the study. I threw the backpack on a chair and paced back and forth, the frustration building inside me until I wanted to scream. But all that would probably accomplish was for me to get dropped at the airport early. I wasn’t really mad at Stuart, although for someone who was so well mannered, it was a pretty insensitive move to interject himself and the work like that. But it was my mom I was truly upset with. We had only a little while before we had to get ready to go to the airport. She’d been gone for four years; couldn’t she give me even a couple of hours?

  And what was I supposed to do until she was ready for me? There was nothing to do in the room. It felt like a cage. A very small, very boring cage.

  I pushed out the door to the balcony, but even that felt too confining. At least the sky had cleared.

  That thought was quickly followed by the memory of Ryan saying how the view from the roof was so spectacular on clear days. And that thought was followed by the picture of him leaning close, pointing out his seaplane among the boats and planes at the docks. Heat crept up my face. I had to admit it would be pleasant seeing him again—if only to say good-bye. I wondered if he would still be up there.

  It didn’t take long to decide what I was going to do. I slipped back into the room and crossed to the door. I opened it a crack. Mom and Stuart were still busily discussing whatever it was she wanted me out of the room for. I closed the door quietly and depressed the lock. Just in case.

  Back out on the balcony, I quickly climbed to the top before I could change my mind.

  I have to admit I was disappointed to find the rooftop deserted. I sighed. At least the view was worth the climb. I turned slowly, drinking it in. It was just as Ryan had described, only better. On one side of the building and down from the locks lay the lake, the sun winking across the surface and changing the color from a slate gray to a deep cerulean blue. On the other, the white dome of Mount Rainier rose from beyond the city. I couldn’t believe how close it looked.

  “I thought that was you.”

  I jumped and spun around. “Oh! Ryan. Hi.”

  He gave me one of his easy grins and I couldn’t help but smile back. He crossed the roof to stand next to me and leaned his elbows on the railing. “Turned out to be a perfect day, huh? One of only about sixty sunny days for the year.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I murmured. And it was. Beautiful, that is. But it wasn’t perfect. Not by a long shot.

  “Enjoy it while it lasts. We’re supposed to get rain tomorrow.”

  My smile faded. Not because of the rain, but because if Mom had her way, I wouldn’t be there to see it. “Oh.”

  “Yeah. I’m supposed to make a run in the morning, but I think I’ll take off tonight before the weather gets here. After the Mariners game, of
course.”

  “Of course.”

  “Ah. You a Mariners fan?”

  “Uh . . .” I had never actually seen a baseball game in my life, but that didn’t stop me from saying, “Sure, whenever I’m in Seattle.”

  He laughed and I joined him, but my laugh sounded high-pitched and phony to my ears. What was I doing? I didn’t even know this guy. Why was I flirting with him? He was in college and he flew a plane. I was just a child compared to him. And then, of course, there was Seth . . .

  I quickly sobered. “I should go in. I just wanted to see this one more time.”

  He cocked his head and frowned. “I guess I’ll see you around then.”

  “Yeah.” I stepped a foot onto the ladder. “I’ll see you.”

  He said good-bye and turned his back on me to wander back over to the railing. I climbed downward, feeling a little hurt and a lot stupid.

  At least the distraction gave me time to think. I made a decision; I wasn’t going to sit around in the room anymore—well, okay, since I had climbed to the roof and back, I really hadn’t been sitting around, and I didn’t intend to. If Mom had things to do, she could go ahead and do them. With me.

  I swung my backpack up onto my shoulder and marched to the door, not being careful to open it quietly this time. I strode down the hall.

  Stuart nudged her when I walked into the kitchen. She gave me a look—not really startled, but not altogether composed, either. “We don’t have to leave for a few minutes, Aphra.”

  “I know.” I settled into one of the kitchen chairs. “I got bored back there.”

  “Well, of course you did, darlin’,” Stuart said, gushing. “I’m sorry; I wasn’t thinking. Nat, perhaps we should finish this later. I think Aphra wants to spend some time with you.”

  He was right. About me wanting to spend time with my mom, I mean. But it still bugged me when he said it like I was some little baby wanting her mama. Not half as much as it bugged me the way Mom sighed and shut down her computer, though. She acted like it was some kind of chore that she had to figure out what to do with me until she could dump me at the airport.

 

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