Death Benefits

by Hannah Alexander

  As Ginger and Preston rode in silence, Ginger watched Preston. He was a hard man to read. Though he liked to think of himself as a simple man of the land, she knew he had a quick wit and was a deep thinker. He seemed to be concerned about something right now.

  Though she knew him well, and often thought of him as a younger brother, she couldn’t read his mind the way she often could Graham’s.

  Helen suddenly slammed on the brakes and groaned, then muttered to herself.

  “What’s wrong?” Ginger asked in alarm.

  “It’s okay, don’t worry,” Helen said, her voice sounding falsely bright. “Just missed a turn in the dark. I think. Not a lot of signs along this section of highway, are there? The lady at the car rental desk warned us that some of the signs had been blown away by a tropical storm some time ago, and they haven’t all been replaced yet.”

  Graham gave a whistle of amazement from the front passenger seat. “That sounds like quite a storm. Didn’t I hear someone at the airport mention there might be another one brewing in the next couple of days a little east of here?”

  Helen gave him a brief glance. “We’ve been watching that one.”

  “And?” Graham prompted.

  “Hawaii seldom gets hit by storms, so we weren’t worried about it, especially since it wasn’t supposed to come in this direction. We learned a few hours ago that it’s turning. Steve and I made some calls. It doesn’t seem to be much of a threat, even if it does come our way.”

  Ginger nudged Preston, and he winked at her. That must have been what the concerned looks and quick phone calls were about at the airport.

  “Settle back and relax, folks,” Helen said as she turned onto what Ginger hoped would be the correct road. “We’ll be in Poipu in no time.”

  Lucy reached for Ginger’s hand and held on tightly. Brittany woke up and started to whimper in the seat in front of them. Willow murmured words of soothing comfort.

  Another wave of heat moved over Ginger’s skin. She grabbed a brochure she’d picked up at the airport to fan herself. This promised to be a long week.

  TEN

  Almost as soon as Ray climbed into the SUV with Steve Courtney at the wheel, he realized the man did not know his way around the town of Lihue. After fifteen minutes, Ray realized that Steve most likely had never even been on Kauai before, and if he had, it had been daylight.

  Not that Ray could have done much better, considering the paucity of road signs. And the few that were posted did not match the directions he’d overheard at the airport.

  The caravan arrived at the Hyatt Regency in Poipu a full ninety minutes after leaving the airport. Ray was ready for bed.

  Larry Bager cleared his throat from the backseat when Steve, going in the wrong direction, pulled into a one-way drive in the hotel complex. “Not from around here, are you?” the P.I. asked in a perfect impersonation of an Ozark backwoodsman.

  Steve chuckled uneasily. “This isn’t one of our regular tours.”

  “You don’t say,” Larry said drily. “You’re sure our group has reservations at this hotel?”

  “Of course I am.” Steve found the bellman’s stand and parked beside it. “There’s only one Hyatt Regency in Poipu, and I have our confirmations in my briefcase.”

  “Didn’t I hear someone say that the drive from the airport to Poipu took thirty minutes?” Larry asked.

  “Obviously, that would be for someone familiar with the road system. Sorry about those little detours. They would have been much prettier during daylight, I’m sure.”

  “So, how many groups have you brought here in the past?” Larry asked.

  “Actually, this is our first stay at the Hyatt-Regency,” Steve said as he opened his door. “Helen and I typically take our Hawaii tours to Maui, Oahu and the Big Island. To be honest, we’ve never driven to Poipu in the dark, and in case you hadn’t noticed, the signs aren’t the best right now.”

  Helen met Steve as he stepped out. The woman had a youthful prettiness that belied her years—which Ray had heard was in the low sixties. Right now she looked drawn and pale.

  “I received a call from Wedding Dreams on my cell. We can’t get a boat into Fern Grotto tomorrow.”

  For several seconds, Steve was silent. Then he sighed heavily. “Why not? We booked it weeks ago.”

  “The company’s worried about the storm,” she said softly.

  “We were told that wouldn’t be a problem,” Steve snapped.

  Larry leaned over and looked out at Helen. “I heard that little tropical depression was going to miss Hawaii.”

  Helen shrugged. “It’s changed course, apparently, but from all accounts, even if it does reach us here, that shouldn’t happen for about twenty-four hours.”

  “What about another company?” Steve asked. “Can that be so difficult? It’s off season.”

  Helen shrugged. “I asked them if they couldn’t find something for us with another outfit, but there’s a convention in town. It seems the Fern Grotto is popular.”

  Steve sighed heavily. “This is just great.”

  “I’m sorry,” Helen said, drawing him away from the SUV, lowering her voice. Ray could only hear snatches of what she said. “…don’t know what else…whom to call on this island. Willow and Graham aren’t too worried…do some shopping tomorrow…can’t let yourself get worked up…heart isn’t as strong…”

  When Steve and Helen returned to help the bellman unload the vehicles, Larry drew Ray aside.

  “I don’t like this,” he grumbled.

  “I’m not crazy about it, either, but if Graham and Willow are okay waiting another day, it shouldn’t make any difference to us.”

  “You heard what Steve said. A tropical storm brewing, and our guides aren’t familiar with the island?” He shook his head. “I don’t have a good feeling about it.”

  “What do you propose we do? It isn’t as if there’s a hurricane coming this way. We’ll get a little rain for a day or two, stay inside and read or watch movies.”

  “I think I’ll have a look at the weather channel once we get to our rooms.”

  “I don’t know how Helen and Steve were able to get flights and room reservations for you at such short notice,” Ray said.

  “They didn’t. I got my own.”

  “Maybe you should become a tour guide.”

  Larry grimaced at him. “Funny. I’m two doors down from you and Preston. Willow, Ginger and the girls have a suite between us, and Graham is across the hall from you. There are probably still some of the holiday tourists here, judging by the number of cars we saw coming in.”

  “Some of the rich university crowd enjoying a few more days of warmth,” Ray suggested.

  Even as he spoke, a raucous group of twentysomethings came up from the beach, most wearing shorts, but with jackets and sweaters in deference to the cooling evening air.

  Larry studied each new face as the party entered the lushly appointed hotel.

  Ray had no doubt that if Larry Bager, P.I., had anything to do with it, the prison escapee would come nowhere near this wedding party. Awkward as this situation was, Ray liked knowing that someone was totally dedicated to the safety of this group.

  The ocean waves beckoned to Ginger through the screen door that led out to the lanai of the luxurious two-bedroom suite. A few moments ago, the girls had stopped running from room to room, exclaiming at each new discovery of scented soaps, lotions, flower arrangements and snacks and drinks in the refrigerator.

  At last, Ginger gave in to the call of the waves—at least from a distance. Though she had no doubt Larry Bager would read her the riot act if she attempted to go walking on the beach alone—thanks to the threat of one wicked person—she slipped on a sweater over her jeans and T-shirt and left Willow reading a story to the girls.

  From where she stood on the fourth floor lanai, Ginger could see what she presumed to be Shipwreck Beach, sea foam and waves gleaming in the moonlight. The heady smell of ocean surf combined with the perfume of b
looming flowers and created an unforgettable scent of which she knew she would never tire.

  Ginger had loved the ocean from the first time she and her family had vacationed at Big Sur in her early childhood. Ever since, she’d tried to make it a point to see the pounding surf at least once every couple of years. It didn’t happen often enough for her. The only way she could get enough of the ocean was to live by it.

  Now, she had to fight her frustration with the new restrictions that were keeping her from the sea. How she would love to go splash barefoot in the water without having to worry about some madman attacking her. And now it looked as if the weather was not going to cooperate with them on this trip.

  But that was no way to look at things. God was always in control, both of the weather, and their protection. She’d learned that so many years ago. Why did it always seem so easy to lose the assurance of those lessons?

  With a quiet sigh, she closed her eyes and leaned against the railing. Willow’s deep, melodious voice rose and fell from the main room of their luxury suite, and mingled with the whisper of water on sand.

  “I know exactly what you mean” came a deep voice from the darkness to her left. “It’s breathtaking.”

  Her eyes flew open and she turned to see Ray Clyde in the shadows of the lanai next to hers.

  Careful, Ginger. No smart retorts, the children might hear. She turned from the railing and reached for the sliding door.

  “Please don’t let me scare you away,” Ray said. “That wasn’t why I—”

  “You’re not.” She slid the screen door open and reached for the glass one, then slid it shut, being quiet so as not to disturb the story in which the girls were so engrossed.

  From the glow of indoor light, she caught sight of Ray’s expression of concern, and couldn’t repress a quick grin. He, no doubt, was bracing himself for yet another verbal attack from her.

  She refrained.

  “I didn’t come out here to fight with you,” he said.

  “Good, because I’m not up to battle stance for the next week, especially not with everything else going on.” She sank into the deck chair farthest from Ray. “It’s late, and it’s been a long day. I want to listen to the surf in peace for a few minutes before I turn in.” She hoped he could tell by her tone and her words that she hadn’t expected, nor did she want, company.

  “My thoughts exactly,” he said.

  “Good.”

  “Fine.”

  She shot him a quick look, then tilted her chair away from him.

  Unfortunately, now that the company was nearby, he was all she could think about—much the same as it had been on the flight. It frustrated and irritated her that, even at the mature age of fifty-three, she behaved like a young, impressionable woman when it came to certain men.

  Okay, when it came to Ray.

  Worse, it had become obvious to her over the course of this day, as she thought about it, that she would not have been so unforgiving of anyone else who had forced her to leave her mission post. In fact, she wanted to think she would have been understanding.

  What had cut her more deeply than anything last year was the knowledge that Ray Clyde, of all people, had believed her to be unfit to continue. Ray Clyde, whom she had considered for so many years to be a close friend and confidant, whose opinion and approval she had valued above that of almost anyone else, had rejected her. Not only had he rejected her, but he wouldn’t even give a recommendation to another missionary board.

  How much more obvious could he have been? He didn’t value her professionally or personally. It wasn’t something she’d wanted to admit to herself today, and she especially hoped she wouldn’t blurt it out, or show her vulnerability in any other way.

  But how was she supposed to smile and behave as if nothing was wrong?

  Ray felt himself engulfed in a wave of sadness so poignant it marred the beauty of the evening, the softness of the breeze, the sweet scent of gardenia and plumeria that powdered the air with their delicate perfume.

  Silence had never felt so barbed with anger and unspoken pain. In spite of Ginger’s assurance that she just wanted peace, he couldn’t let this opportunity pass without some kind of attempt at reconciliation—perhaps to bring about that peace that seemed to be evading her.

  “Something about this trip has generated a lot of memories for me,” he said at last, then continued without waiting for Ginger to comment. “Graham’s put on a few years and a few pounds, but he has that same quiet strength about him, that determination to make sure that everyone in his care is happy.”

  She didn’t reply, but continued to stare into the darkness.

  “Even if he realizes they may have to struggle a little to get to that place of happiness,” Ray continued. “He’s always been the type to do what he felt was best, in spite of opposition.”

  “You’re right, he hasn’t changed a bit, but you sure have.” She glanced his way, then returned to her study of the surf.

  “How have I changed?” Ray asked.

  A quiet sigh. “Ten years ago, if I’d told you I wanted some peace, you’d have left me alone.”

  “Ten years ago maybe I didn’t know you as well as—”

  “Don’t start that. Didn’t you hear me tell you I wasn’t up to a fight?”

  He gritted his teeth. “I’m not trying to fight, I’m trying to make peace so we won’t feel compelled to fight the whole week. As we stand right now, we’re both on edge constantly.”

  “Maybe you and Graham should have thought about that before you sprang this surprise on me,” Ginger pointed out.

  “I think if you were happier with the job you’re doing now, you wouldn’t be so—”

  “Don’t you dare start with me.” Her voice seemed to echo over the roar of the waves. “You of all people should know better. I had a job I loved until—”

  “You’re treating patients, Ginger. You’re helping people. That should be as satisfying in Branson or Hideaway as it is anywhere else.”

  “Then obviously you don’t know anything about it. Ever considered turning over your directorship to someone who understands foreign missionaries better?”

  He winced inwardly at the sting in her words. He truly didn’t want to argue, especially not with Ginger. “I can’t imagine having to give it up.”

  “That’s what I had to do, though, Ray, so why don’t you try to imagine it for once. How would you have felt?”

  “Why don’t you tell me what’s so different between meeting patient needs overseas, and meeting them here in America.”

  “You mean besides the fact that we Americans are spoiled beyond belief?” she asked. “That we take topnotch health care for granted?” She stood up and took a few steps across the lanai toward him. “That we’ve decided we have a God-given right to perfect, uninterrupted health care by people who must answer to our attorneys for the slightest sign of a slip?”

  He winced at the heat behind her words. “Yes, besides that.”

  “Well, I guess none,” she said, then added softly, “I want to help those who truly need the help.”

  “Graham mentioned some of your concerns.”

  “Did he also mention that I’ve struggled this past year to lose weight in deference to his pleas, in spite of the fact that my irregular heartbeats were totally harmless to begin with? I’m not ready to be put out to pasture.”

  “Of course you aren’t.”

  “In fact,” she continued, “I’m barely getting started. I deserve another chance, Ray.”

  “No one has ever denied you opportunities to serve, but you have always been dead set on serving at one particular place.”

  She leaned over the railing as if she would come across and grab him by the collar to make him see her reasoning. “Of course I have, I formed a bond with those people, with the kids especially. Sergei, Colya, Nick, so many that I watched grow from children to young adults. You know how close I was to Sergei, especially after his father died. I knew their language—and
I’m not talking about the Belarusian language, I’m talking about the language of their hearts.”

  He felt another quickening of empathy for her. So much pain. Oh, Ginger, if you only knew how sorry I am about all this. “What makes you think you couldn’t learn the language of another group in the same way?”

  “Because that kind of a bond isn’t formed overnight. Ray, I don’t have to be director. I don’t have to control the clinic, I need to see those children again. I need to be there to—”

  He heard the self-reproach in her voice as it broke off. He could tell that she suddenly realized she was begging. Again.

  “Ginger, I never wanted to cause you pain, and if the decision hadn’t been absolutely necessary, I never would have made it. I don’t know how to convince you of that, but it’s true.” He was more than sorry. It broke his heart. But he would rather have his own heart broken than to see Ginger devastated further.

  She was silent for too long. He could almost sense a change in the way she watched him, and he realized his voice had given him away.

  “What are you neglecting to tell me?”

  He closed his eyes. Don’t ask, Ginger. Please don’t ask.

  “It isn’t about my health anymore, is it?”

  He didn’t reply.

  “Was it ever about my health?”

  “Yes, it was.” He could say that truthfully. Maybe not in the way she meant, but…

  “Ray—”

  The door of the lanai slid open and Willow stepped out. “Guess what? Helen found another boat to take us to the Fern Grotto tomorrow. Looks like we’ll have some time for shopping in the morning, then a wedding tomorrow afternoon!” She clapped her hands together, excited as a young girl. “Let’s get some sleep, okay?”

  Ray sagged with relief, blessing Willow for the interruption. This promised to be a long, difficult week as things stood right now. He didn’t hang around to see if Ginger would press their argument further. He slipped inside and went to bed.