by KG MacGregor
"Because I’m supposed to be at work. But I’m not because I’m…."
"Lazy!"
"That’s right."
Viv left the kitchen and returned, tossing a cap and sunglasses on the table beside her tall guest. "You know, I was thinking we could drive down I-66 in the Jeep to Front Royal and then take Skyline Drive south until we found a nice place to stop. There are a lot of pretty lakes out there with picnic tables and trails."
"I wanna go!" Jessie shouted. "Please!"
Even Ruth was a little anxious about being seen, but she knew she had to get past that; the whole reason for running away was so they could have a new life, and they shouldn’t have to live it in hiding.
"Okay, I’ll go too," Spencer announced, slipping on the glasses and hat.
That sealed it for Ruth. They were going on a picnic.
* * *
Spencer sat in the back seat of the Jeep Cherokee with Jessie, the two of them poking each other and laughing until Ruth threatened to have Viv pull over and put them both out. The drive to Front Royal was otherwise dull and uneventful, but things perked up when they reached the parkway. Even with the trees already bare, the lakes and woods were beautiful.
"I haven’t been over here in ten or twelve years," Viv said.
"Tell us about the last time," Ruth prodded.
The landlady blew out a deep breath. "It was with Sheila. That’s my daughter. We used to come out here when she and Robby were little. Robby’s my son. He lives in Richmond now. Last I heard, Sheila was in Kentucky or Ohio or someplace."
"You don’t see her anymore?" For Ruth, estrangement from parents was familiar territory.
"I guess it’s more like she doesn’t see me. I brought her out here for a drive because we’d always had a good time here. I wanted to have a good time with her for a change. We were always fighting about one thing or another." The landlady sniffed and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.
"So where did you two leave things, Viv?" Spencer asked softly from the back seat.
"We got along up until the day she left, but both of us were holding back, trying not to go off on each other. Then that last day, all…heck broke loose, and she walked out telling me she wasn’t coming back." Viv tried to gather herself; she was driving, after all. "And she hasn’t."
"I’m so sorry." Ruth put her hand on the woman’s shoulder.
"I’m not," she sighed. "Well, I’m not sorry she hasn’t come back like that. I am sorry that she stopped being that little girl who liked picnics, and dogs, and her family. The woman she grew up to be liked drinking and drugs, and any man she could get to pay for it."
The foursome rode along quietly for several miles, Jessie pointing out cows and horses as they came into view.
"What about Robby? Do you see a lot of your son?" Spencer was looking for a way to get the conversation back on something more upbeat.
"He comes up every two or three months. He works maintenance at the Capitol. It’s a good job for him. He didn’t get blessed with a lot in the sense department, but he works hard and he’s always checking in."
"Does he have family?"
"He got married about three years ago to an older woman. She’s good for him. But I don’t think they’re planning on having children."
"You never know," Ruth offered.
"No, I’ve given up on having any grandkids. You better watch out, though. I’ll spoil that one back there if you let me." Viv nodded her head in the direction of the four-year-old in the back seat.
Ruth was so touched by the statement that her own eyes suddenly filled with tears. "That’ll mean a lot to her, Viv. And to me, too."
"Somebody’s already spoiled her," Spencer piped up. "She’s so rotten she smells."
"I do not."
"Do too."
"You’re lazy."
* * *
After driving an hour on the parkway, Viv pulled off at Otter Lake, where a short walk led them to a picnic table near the water. No one was hungry, but the novelty of eating outside was too exciting for Jessie to put off, so they all had an early lunch.
"Can I go feed the ducks with Viv?" the child asked when she’d finished her chips.
Ruth didn’t answer, just cocked her head and raised her eyebrows in question.
"May I go feed the ducks with Viv?" she clarified.
"Yes, you may. That was very good that you remembered."
She hadn’t remembered, but Spencer had been mouthing the words behind her mother and that reminded her of what to do. The little girl crawled off the bench and grabbed her bread scraps. Viv had brought a whole extra loaf of bread.
"How about you? You want to see where that trail goes?" Spencer invited.
"Sure." Ruth walked over and told her landlady where they were going, asking if she’d mind watching Megan. Viv just waved her away.
"I really like Viv a lot, don’t you?" Spencer started.
"She’s great. Just look at her with Jessie. She’s so patient and sweet. It’s hard to imagine her daughter turned out so badly."
"Well, somewhere along the way, Sheila made the wrong choices."
That comment hit home for the blonde, and she began to shake her head. "I sure wish I could go back and choose over."
"Don’t be so hard on yourself. Look at that." Spencer turned and looked back through the bare trees at the four-year-old gleefully feeding the ducks. "That was a good choice."
"Jessie’s probably the only thing I did right."
"It’s going to work out, Ruth," Spencer assured, draping her arm around the smaller woman’s shoulder for a quick hug. Like Viv, she had hoped for a day when they could all set their problems aside and have fun. But some problems were too big to outrun, she guessed.
"So what about you? Did you ever do anything that made your parents pull their hair out?"
Spencer warmed all over as Ruth answered the hug by wrapping her arm around her waist. Something was going on here; she wasn’t sure what it was but it felt very nice.
"Probably the worst thing I ever did was to pick State over Duke or Carolina," Spencer answered with a chuckle.
"Why was that such a big deal?"
"My father taught statistics at Carolina, and my mother was on the faculty at Duke’s med school. They went back and forth for years about where I’d go, and I blew both of them off."
"So is that really the worst thing you ever did?"
"Mmmm, probably. I was a good kid, and we were pretty close. I liked my parents. We did a lot of things together."
"How’d they handle you being gay?"
"They were okay. College professors tend to be more liberal than most, I think. They both liked Elena a lot. Even after we split up, she’d still come home with me for long weekends at the lake and Mom would trash her for letting me get away. Elena always threatened to pull her taxes."
"That’s too funny! It’s all just so foreign to me. I can’t even imagine having a good time with my family," Ruth said sadly.
"Then maybe it’s time you got a new family."
When they reached a footbridge crossing a narrow stream, Spencer took the blonde woman’s hand and led her onto a smaller trail that went away from the lake. Still unsure if she was imagining things, she loosened her fingers but didn’t let go. Instead of dropping her own hand, Ruth asserted herself, gripping tighter to keep the connection.
Silently, they walked deeper into the woods, both very aware and excited that there was something brewing between them. When they reached a log that had fallen across the creek, they stopped. Its mossy cover was inviting, and Spencer grabbed the smaller woman’s waist and hoisted her into the comfortable seat, straddling the narrow stream to stand between her parted legs.
Now at eye-level and only inches apart, both women gave in to the electrical surge, and their faces began to slowly move toward the other. Spencer slipped her fingers through the soft blonde hair to the back of Ruth’s neck and pulled her closer. Their first kiss was soft, a simple decla
ration that they both felt this.
"Spencer, I don’t…."
"Yes, you do," she whispered.
Again, their lips met, this time more deliberate, more searching. Ruth reveled in the softness of Spencer’s mouth, the smoothness of her face, and the tender way the warm tongue stroked against her own. So nice.
When they broke, their eyes held one another as each searched for clues of what had just transpired. Finally, Ruth smiled softly and reached out to caress Spencer’s face.
"You’re right, I do."
"I knew you would."
* * *
George Roscone gave the burgers one more turn and mashed them flat with the spatula, the dripping juice causing the fire underneath to flare. This would be his last cookout for a long time; maybe even the last one ever with this family he loved.
Last night, George had lain awake long after making love with his wife of thirteen years, despising himself for his greedy pursuits. No one in his family suspected his duplicity, but they would all pay for his mistakes.
Nearby, George, Jr. and his twin sisters were playing together on the Jungle Jim. Would they ever get past their father’s crimes? George hoped so, but they deserved a father who would do the right thing, who would take responsibility for his actions.
Elena Diaz was closing her net. She’d found out about the other accounts, though it was still a mystery who had tipped him off. It would be far better if he turned himself in now and begged for a plea bargain, even if it meant risking the wrath of the drug cartel. Surely, the government would help him if he offered evidence against the bigger fish.
Tomorrow morning, he would walk into Diaz’s office and give himself up. But today, he was a family man.
* * *
"I guess we should be getting back, huh?"
Spencer returned the smile and nodded, very encouraged by what she was reading in the warm green eyes. Wordlessly, they had kissed over and over, finally reining in a passion that threatened their self-control. All of the things she knew about Ruth Ferguson had come together in a package that beckoned her, and she wanted more…much more. Holding hands, they followed the trail back toward the picnic area.
"I think you should say something to Viv." The women could see the older woman on the shore of the lake, breaking off bread crumbs so the delighted child could feed a family of ducklings.
"What do you mean?"
"I think you ought to tell her who you are, and what you’re running from."
Ruth shook her head. "I don’t want to put her in the middle of this. Besides, the more people who know, the more we’re at risk."
"I understand that, but just thinking about things right now…what if you were driving home one day from Wal-Mart and got stopped by the cops? Suppose they somehow figured out who you were? Would you want Viv to just step forward and say ‘Here’s the little girl you’re looking for,’ or would you want her to protect Jessie from going back to her father?"
"What if she doesn’t want that kind of responsibility?"
"Look at her."
Spencer was right about the bond that was growing between her landlady and her daughter. "You really think I should?"
"Yeah. And it would probably take some of the pressure off Jessie about keeping things so secret."
When they got back to the picnic site, Spencer invited Jessie to walk with her to see the waterfall in the creek. That gave Ruth the opportunity to talk with Viv.
"They won’t take her if I have anything to say about it!"
"I sort of hoped you’d feel that way," Ruth said gratefully. "I really hate putting you in the middle of all of this, especially on top of everything that’s going on with Spencer."
"I want to be in the middle of it. It makes me feel like I’m getting another chance."
It made Ruth feel exactly the same way.
* * *
"So what have we got?" Chad Merke had gathered the entire team in his living room for an update. Elena Diaz had driven straight to his house after her meeting with Ruth on Saturday morning, knowing that her FBI surveillance team would assume she was going to discuss the break in the Roscone case.
"So far, it’s checking out. The program does just what Rollins says," their Visual Basic expert offered. "And the parts that she said were inserted really stand out. It’s pretty obvious they were written by someone else."
"Is there any way to know when this bogus program went into operation?"
"Not from this, but we can probably find it on the server at Margadon. It’ll have a time stamp." This time, it was their network expert who spoke up.
"What if they’ve altered it?" Elena asked.
"We’ve got tools to determine that sort of thing," he explained. "Unless you really know what you’re doing, it’s pretty hard to get rid of something completely. But even if you can, you leave a big ugly mark that says something’s been changed."
"Okay, so that part’s coming together," Chad continued. "What have we got on the finances?"
This was Elena’s domain. She’d been handed three auditors yesterday afternoon, and they’d all worked into the night and throughout the day today. "Well, as you already knew, we’ve got evidence of large amounts of cash moving through the hands of two FBI agents, Akers and Pollard. We have major purchases of high-end luxury items — cars, boats, houses — in the last fourteen months for Peter Crowell, the cytokines supplier; for Adam Huffman, the production manager in Little Rock; and for James Thayer. But we’ve come up empty on Stacy Eagleton."
"Are you certain she’s involved in this?" their boss asked.
"Spencer seems to think so. She clearly fabricated her statements for the newspaper to throw more suspicion on Spencer. Not sure why she would do that if she weren’t involved."
"Maybe she just doesn’t like Spencer," he countered objectively. "Or maybe she was just repeating gossip. You know how these stories sometimes take on a life of their own."
"That’s possible, Chad," Elena conceded. "But she happens to be the manager for the Kryfex contract. I don’t like that coincidence."
"Agreed. So we’ll keep looking. What’s our next move?"
"I want to bring Spencer in and put her in protective custody."
"Fine. Do it." Chad could see the wisdom of getting their star witness out of harm’s way.
"And I think we ought to do the same for the informant, and for her child."
"Why do they need to be protected?"
"Because these guys have a habit of killing people who know things."
* * *
In all the excitement of the day, Jessie missed her nap and barely made it through her bath without falling asleep. Once she was down for the night, Ruth closed the bedroom door and returned to the living room, her breath catching at the sight of the dark-haired beauty staring at her from across the room.
Spencer was sitting in the straight back chair, her long legs stretched out in front and her arms folded across her chest. It was a commanding posture.
"Do you want to talk about this afternoon?" she asked.
The electricity between them had filled the air when they walked back into the trailer. Every look, every gesture, every casual touch only served to heighten its charge. And now, they were alone again.
Ruth sat down on the arm of the recliner, adopting a pose that belied her lack of confidence. "Okay."
"Are you alright about it?"
"Sure," the small voice said. Ruth was unable to remove her eyes from the tacky symmetrical pattern on the vinyl floor.
Spencer chuckled and leaned forward, dropping her forearms to her knees. "Look at me."
Guiltily, the green eyes finally met hers.
"If it makes you too uncomfortable to even look me in the eye, I suppose asking where you want to go next with this is kind of pointless."
Ruth grimaced, not at Spencer’s words, but at her own confusion. Her head was saying one thing, but her heart and body seemed to be saying something else altogether. She found herself inexplic
ably pulled toward this woman, driven to care for her, and compelled to have her physically close.
"I was surprised. Not by you, but by me. I didn’t expect to do that, and when I did, I didn’t expect it to feel like that," she admitted.
"How did it feel?"
"It felt…I liked it…a lot."
"I liked it, too. But I don’t want to lead you somewhere you really don’t want to go. We’re both under a lot of stress right now, and I’d hate to think either of us was just looking for a port in a storm."
The blonde woman nodded in agreement, still barely able to look into the piercing blue eyes. "Is that what you’re doing?"
Spencer shook her head. "No."
"Then what are you doing, Spencer?"
The silence was almost deafening as the dark-haired woman considered her response. What indeed?
"I’m just drawn to you, Ruth," she answered softly. "There’s a lot about you that reaches out to me. You’re brave; you’re beautiful; you have a good heart. And I’m comfortable with you. It feels good to be here, with you and with Jessie."
Those were all words Ruth had told herself she’d never hear. If Skip had liked anything about her, he’d never said so. Spencer had just laid it all out there for her, and it was exactly the way she felt too.
Hoisting herself slowly from the recliner, she took the woman’s long hand in her own and tugged her toward the hallway, clicking off the small lamp on the end table as she walked by.
Once they reached the bedroom, Spencer closed the door, pressing the button lock to avoid being surprised by the four-year-old.
"It feels good to have you hold me," the blonde whispered as she stepped into the long arms.
Spencer hugged her tightly and brushed her lips against the blonde crown. With her fingers, she tipped the chin upward and delivered a warm kiss, then pulled her close again. Her body was way ahead of this simple embrace, hot with want but tempered with uncertainty.