Death Benefits

by Hannah Alexander

  She leaned closer. “I doubt even Graham knows everything, Ray,” she said, her voice lowered even further. “Such as the fact that you blocked me from returning to Belarus for even a two-year assignment with another mission board.”

  He looked disconcerted, and she felt a pang of sorrow. So it had been him. “You refused to give them a recommendation. Don’t try to tell me this isn’t personal.”

  Dripping with perspiration, and sure that Ray probably thought the perspiration and flushing came from anger, she returned to her seat.

  As she shifted Brittany’s sleeping form to once again rest on her lap, Ginger took a few deep, cleansing breaths and tried to think of icy mountain streams. The image would help her cool down not only her body, but also her thoughts.

  The whole atmosphere of the wedding could be one of ugliness and petty fighting if she didn’t do something to clamp down on this present, nasty mood.

  She could control this.

  Ray watched the back of Ginger’s seat in frustration and deep disappointment. How could she have known him all these years and believe he would make such a decision about her life with cold, heartless calculation? When had she suddenly stopped trusting him?

  He glanced across the aisle at Graham, who shrugged and shook his head, then mouthed the words, “Give it time.”

  But how much time would Ginger need? In three months it would be a year since she’d been forced home.

  Was he being a coward for not coming clean with her about the real reason for bringing her back? She would never understand that the qualities about her that made him admire her were the same qualities that made her unfit for that particular post, in that particular country. She was right, even Graham didn’t know everything, but it wouldn’t have mattered. Graham trusted him. Ginger obviously didn’t.

  “Aunt Ginger?” Lucy whispered from in front of him.

  “Yes?” Still a trace of anger there. And fatigue. Funny, he hadn’t picked up on that sooner.

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “Of course not, sweetheart. Why would I be mad at you?”

  Ashamed of himself, yet unable to resist, Ray strained to hear more.

  “Your face is all red, like Mama’s used to get when she was mad.”

  “Well, I’m not mad at you, so you can relax.”

  There was a moment of silence, then, “It’s okay. You don’t smack my face when you’re mad.”

  “Now, why would I do that?”

  No answer.

  A moment later, Lucy spoke again, this time so softly Ray almost couldn’t hear. “Aunt Ginger, why are you sweating? Your shirt’s wet.”

  No answer. Only a tired sigh.

  “Is Ray your boyfriend?”

  There was a gasp of surprise. “What on earth would make you say something like that?”

  “Because you were fighting. Mama always fought with her boyfriends. She used to say that they weren’t worth loving if they weren’t worth fighting with.”

  If Ray were to judge by the ensuing silence, he would conclude that Ginger was having as much trouble as he was deciphering that piece of twisted logic.

  “I’m sorry, Lucy. I’m not behaving the way a grown-up should behave. You shouldn’t think badly of Ray just because he and I don’t see eye to eye about some things.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Not even some important things.”

  “Okay.”

  “People can disagree.”

  “So you don’t love him?”

  “What?”

  “Mama used to say she fought most with the boyfriends she loved the most. I guess some of them really loved her, because I think they hit her.”

  “Well, honey, that isn’t the case today. Trust me.”

  “Mama says the making up is fun, though.”

  Ginger didn’t remark on that.

  “Do you think the making up will be fun?” Lucy asked in what she probably believed to be her most grown-up voice.

  Ray couldn’t help himself. He laughed again—out loud—and immediately realized he’d just given Ginger Carpenter another good reason to be angry with him.

  EIGHT

  Ginger changed the time on her watch, then peered over Lucy’s head at the island as it came into view. Kauai. The Garden Isle. Nothing but green everywhere she looked. Beautiful beaches, flowers, rich, lush forests. Though the smallest of the four major islands, Kauai truly earned its name as the Garden Isle.

  Ginger wanted to immerse herself in that garden and escape everything else. Unfortunately, that was not to be for a while.

  Lucy stirred beside her, yawning.

  “Have a look, my dear,” Ginger said softly, cupping the child’s chin and lifting it to encourage her to peer outside.

  Lucy gasped aloud.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” Ginger asked.

  “Oh,” Lucy whispered. “It’s green everywhere! And it’s so big. I thought islands were little.”

  “Compared to Missouri, this island is tiny. You know how far it is to drive from Hideaway to Springfield? This island isn’t as long as that. And it’s even narrower than that. About the distance from Branson to Ozark.”

  “Sounds big to me,” Lucy said.

  “It sure doesn’t look like Missouri looks right now, does it?”

  “It doesn’t look like winter.”

  “It is. It just isn’t like our winters in Missouri.”

  “Will it be cold, then?” Lucy asked.

  “It may seem cold to the people who live here, but to us it’ll be like springtime. They aren’t used to really cold winters.”

  Ginger had been to most states in the U.S. She’d traveled halfway across the world several times to Belarus, with stopovers in England and Austria, and she’d taken road trips through Germany, Italy and Switzerland. She’d toured the Armory on Red Square in Moscow, and had been to the war memorial in Brest, Belarus—an awesome experience. She’d learned to love the Russian and Belarusian music, richly evocative of the passion of the people she’d also come to love.

  In spite of her journeys, though, she’d never considered herself a world traveler. She’d never been west of California until now.

  For weeks, as this trip was being planned, she’d immersed herself in Hawaiian music and history. She had studied the brochures Graham collected from the Courtneys. Ginger wanted to do it all.

  What she would be doing, however, was watching the children. No downhill bike rides from Waimea Canyon for her. She would never dream of risking the girls’ lives on a busy highway like that. No surfing, either.

  Well, okay. Maybe if she could get Preston and Larry Bager to watch the girls, she would rent a surfboard and try her hand—or rather, her derriere—at the sport. Especially now that she’d lost twenty-five pounds on her heart-healthy diet. And she’d like to go snorkeling, if the water was warm enough. The girls would love that. She would surely be able to take them hiking.

  Of course, Preston and Larry both had already expressed their reluctance to take a hike in Koke’e State Park, so she was on her own there. She wasn’t concerned about taking the girls out into the wilderness, however. As long as she made sure no one followed her there, she wouldn’t have to worry about Rick Fenrow. It was the more public places where there was a greater need to keep watch, because Rick could blend in with the crowds.

  As the jet moved into position for landing, Lucy’s expression grew pensive once again.

  “Don’t worry so much,” Ginger said. “We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

  Lucy looked up at her with eyes a little puffy from sleep. “Mama said she wasn’t going to let anything happen to us last year, but then something happened to her.”

  Ginger winced. She knew better than to make promises she didn’t know she could keep. She’d learned that the hard way last year. But what could happen on an island in paradise?

  Lucy held tightly to Brittany’s hand as they left the jet and walked into the airport. The first thing she noti
ced was flowers. Everyone wore brightly colored clothes with flowers. There were flower necklaces around their necks, and people wore shorts.

  Shorts in January. Didn’t their mothers teach them how to dress?

  A woman in a flower-print dress and long, black hair greeted them and gave them all flower necklaces.

  Lucy couldn’t help it, she held her breath when the woman wrapped the leis—that’s what she called them—around Lucy’s and Brittany’s necks. Strangers scared her, even here, so far away from Missouri.

  Helen and Steve led the group toward the baggage claim area, and Helen took Brittany’s other hand.

  Lucy watched the woman. On the jet, she’d kept trying to talk to Brittany across the aisle, asking her questions about school and her plans for their time in Hawaii, and taking pictures of her.

  A few times, Lucy would look over to find Helen or Steve watching her and Brittany. As if they’d never seen kids before. Why were they acting that way?

  Brittany pulled away from Lucy to go find the ladies’ room. Lucy tried to call her back, but Helen said she’d take care of her, and followed her away.

  When Lucy tried to go after her, Willow took her hand. “I need you to help us with suitcases, okay?”

  “But I’ve got to go with them. I can’t—”

  “Shh-shh.” Willow leaned over and brushed Lucy’s hair back from her face with a gentle touch—a touch Lucy loved. “Listen to me, sweetheart. I know you’ve always taken responsibility for your sister, but on this trip you’re here to enjoy yourself. Do you understand?”

  Lucy didn’t. Not exactly. But she nodded anyway, because she knew that was what Willow wanted.

  “We have enough adults here to care for and keep watch over you and Brittany. You need to try to be a kid for once. Got that?”

  Lucy hesitated, looking toward the bathroom door. “Do you know Helen?”

  “She’s a professional photographer who has planned a lot of exotic wedding trips like this one. She and Steve know a little about our circumstances, so they know to be on the lookout for anyone who behaves the least bit strangely.”

  “Okay.”

  Willow hesitated, and those lines formed above her eyebrows that Lucy only saw when Willow was trying to think about the best way to say something Lucy didn’t want to hear. “Honey, you need to trust Graham and me, okay? I know that’s a hard thing for you to do, but someday you’re going to see that we know how to be parents. Please trust us a little bit more when it comes to Brittany, too. We aren’t going to let anything happen to either of you, and we don’t need our authority undermined.”

  “But I’m not trying to do that.” She paused. “What does undermined mean?”

  Willow grinned and hugged Lucy. “It means not letting the boss be the boss. The only person you have any reason to fear hasn’t shown up. Steve and Helen are simply here to make our trip and the wedding all flow smoothly. Okay?”

  “Okay. But can I go to the bathroom, too? I didn’t like the one on the jet.”

  Willow smiled and kissed her. “That’s fine, honey. You go on. But remember, you’re safe here.”

  Lucy wasn’t sure she agreed. Mama had constantly told them stories about things she’d seen bad people do. Mama was obviously right, too. There were a lot of bad people in the world. Maybe even in Hawaii.

  As soon as Ginger stepped outside and breathed her first whiff of warm Hawaiian air, she was hooked. The airport, like the majority of the island’s towns, was on the ocean, and she caught the scent of it, mingled with the fragrance of her lei and a faint whiff of something being grilled, perhaps barbecued.

  Vivid green plant life of every variety greeted her gaze. The evening sky was a brilliant pink, peach and indigo, with silver clouds that surrounded the setting sun, outlining it in elaborate beauty. Flowers of every color and shape overwhelmed her senses, and it seemed as if Kauai must be a haven for birds. Some she recognized. Some she certainly did not.

  However, it was the wandering, pecking bantam chickens beneath the shrubbery that arrested her attention. Banties? Colorful farm poultry—so abundant in the Missouri Ozarks—running wild on a tropical island? What was that about?

  Ginger glanced over her shoulder to see Lucy and Brittany safely under the care of Graham, Willow and Larry, awaiting the arrival of their guides with the rental vehicles. She couldn’t resist a quick stroll along the sidewalk.

  A rooster crowed barely a few feet from her, and she started, surprised to find that, even surrounded by all this overwhelming beauty, Lucy’s hyperwatchfulness was affecting her.

  Definitely time to relax a little. She was far removed from all that had taken place in Missouri, and Larry was on the job.

  She stepped from beneath the canopy that stretched between the airport and the car rental kiosk, and raised her face to the mellow golden glow of the setting sun. The island breeze played with strands of her hair, and she longed to sink her toes into the sandy beach.

  “It wouldn’t take much to convince me to live here.” The deep voice behind her gave her a start.

  She nearly stumbled from the edge of the sidewalk.

  “Careful.” Strong hands caught her and steadied her.

  She grimaced and looked up into Preston Black’s blue-gray eyes, so much like his sister’s. “You don’t have to sneak up on me like that.”

  “I wasn’t sneaking.” He released her and fell into step beside her. “Freaked about the prison break, aren’t you?”

  “I’m trying hard not to be.”

  “It’s all anyone can think about.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “That and your feud with Ray.”

  He wore an orchid lei over a pastel blue sweater that had been practical in Missouri, but definitely didn’t seem appropriate now. He’d pushed the sleeves up to his elbows, revealing well-developed forearms that matched the rest of his buff physique.

  Besides the blue-gray eyes, Preston had other features like his sister’s—dark hair and dark, well-defined brows that made him look as though he was always brooding. He had a long face, firm chin, and a quiet watchfulness—even a thoughtfulness—that belied his macho image.

  “I don’t want to think about it,” Ginger said. “Not here. Not now. This time is for Graham and Willow. We should be focused on the wedding tomorrow.”

  Preston gave her a side-glance. “That’s what the wedding planners are supposed to be taking care of.”

  “It seems that’s what they’re doing.”

  He shrugged. “Not sure what a wedding planner’s supposed to do. Guess I’ve got a suspicious nature, but they were the ones who approached Mrs. Engle about this trip in the first place.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Mrs. Engle told me last week.”

  “Why would she mention something like that out of the blue?” Ginger asked.

  “I asked.”

  Ginger gave him a pointed look. “Have you been trying to do Larry’s job?”

  “Not necessarily, I just got curious.”

  “Sure you did.”

  “I know Mrs. Engle has more money than we ever realized,” he said, “but she didn’t get rich by throwing her money away. I couldn’t understand why she would hire someone to fly here with us when we’re all perfectly capable of taking care of arrangements ourselves.”

  “A wedding trip like this needs a little more direction. Not only do we need a wedding coordinator, but someone who knows how to make everything run smoothly. Remember, to quote Helen, ‘We’re making memories to last a lifetime.’”

  “Yeah, sure, but for two people to fly here, drive us around, take pictures? There’s only seven of us, and one was tacked on at the last minute,” he said. “So I got curious, did some checking. Do you realize this package trip is costing Mrs. Engle less than it would have if we’d made the arrangements ourselves?”

  “That’s why they call it a deal, Preston.”

  “Well, I didn’t know what kind of deal it was, and I wanted to
make sure we didn’t get here and end up sleeping on the beach or something. Remember that plumber I started to hire last summer to update my rental? If I hadn’t checked him out with the Better Business Bureau, I’d have been out a lot of money on that crook, and our pipes could’ve busted this winter.”

  Preston glanced over his shoulder toward Lucy and Brittany. Ginger followed his gaze, and she smiled. For once, even Lucy was distracted from her hyperalert state as she played with her lei.

  “Think about it,” Preston said softly. “Those little girls will be our nieces this time next week.”

  “It’s an awesome thought,” Ginger agreed.

  He turned, strolled further. “My sister lost a baby three years ago because of Rick Fenrow, and I blame myself.”

  “That’s silly. You didn’t cause the miscarriage.”

  “I didn’t believe her when she said she was being stalked. I thought the grief of losing her husband was affecting her mind, or that she was showing signs of our mother’s schizophrenia. When it did happen—when Fenrow attacked her—I wasn’t there for her. I’ll never forget the feeling of loss and guilt when I discovered she’d lost the baby. If I’d been there….” He shook his head.

  Ginger understood.

  “When Willow moved in with me last year,” he said, “I was determined nothing else would happen to her.”

  “You can’t protect her from everything, Preston.”

  “Neither of us ever dreamed that man would burn my cabin and try to kill both of us.”

  “You can’t predict evil,” Ginger said.

  “I plan to try. Nothing’s going to happen to Lucy and Brittany if I can do anything to stop it.”

  “I know exactly how you feel,” Ginger said. She resisted the urge to remind him that he was only human. She also resisted the urge to tell him to pray. Preston Black was going through an antireligious phase, which, according to Willow, had lasted most of his adult life.

  “Do you have some reason to suspect that the girls could possibly be at risk from the wedding escorts, of all people?” Ginger asked.

  “None. As they told Mrs. Engle, they’ve had several years’ experience, and they’ve been to Hawaii often.” He shrugged again. “They don’t seem confident about this trip, and that makes me nervous. Helen’s definitely a good photographer, but I saw her and Steve arguing in the airport in St. Louis.”