Live in Person

by Lynda Fitzgerald

  “My house.”

  He ignored the interruption. “—as the market stands today. The housing market is on the rise, but it’s still depressed. That won’t affect the sale of Aunt Lou’s property because it’s in high demand, but it affects your purchasing power. Right now, it’s a buyer’s market. You could get an excellent property for about a tenth of what our aunt’s house would go for. This second sheet—”

  His voice went on, but she heard no more. It was all too much. First, he barged into her house and scared off Rand. Now, he was explaining how he could take advantage of her. Allie wasn’t putting up with any more of it. She swept the papers to the floor. “What’s the matter with you, Len?”

  “With me? I’m just trying to help.”

  “Help me? You help me? What a laugh! You’re just trying to help yourself, to weasel your way into half Aunt Lou’s money, but you won’t get a red cent.”

  With a sigh, Len bent and gathered the papers from the floor. Then, he shoved them in his briefcase. Rising, he looked down at Allie. The room was silent. Not a movement. Probably not a breath.

  Len’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and he cleared his throat. His face was a mask of pain. In a whisper that easily carried into the far corners of the room, he said, “She was my aunt, too, Allie.” After glancing around at all the faces turned their way, he left.

  Only then, did Allie realize every eye was on her. “Can you believe that guy?” she said.

  One by one, each of her coworkers looked away. Even Myrna, who had witnessed the whole thing, wouldn’t meet Allie’s eyes. What was wrong with these people? OK, she could understand the reporters’ reactions; they didn’t know about Allie and Len’s history. But Myrna?

  Defeat weighed heavily on her shoulders. It was her childhood all over again. No matter how crappy the stunt Len pulled on her, he always managed to make her the bad guy, to make her seem petty and unreasonable. She couldn’t count the times her parents had looked at her, their faces drawn with disappointment. It wasn’t fair. Damn it, it wasn’t fair!

  There wasn’t a sound as she walked out of the newsroom. Noon, and her day was already going to hell in a handbasket. When she stepped out of the building, Len still stood beside his rental car, gloating over his morning’s success, no doubt. Her heart gave a little thump when she saw Rand’s car turning in to the lot. She could spot the exact second he saw Len. He braked and started to execute a U-turn. Allie wasn’t having it. She’d had enough misunderstanding for one day. She stepped in front of his exiting car. When he came to a stop, she walked around to the driver’s window.

  “I need to talk to you,” she said as he rolled down his window.

  His face wore no expression. “I don’t know if today—”

  “Please, Rand. It won’t take long.”

  After a long hesitation, he put the car in reverse and backed into a nearby space.

  Allie awaited him at the building entrance. She ignored Len’s cordial wave as he drove out of the lot. When Rand reached her, she turned and led the way into the newspaper’s only conference room, closing the door behind her. This was one conversation she wanted kept private. She didn’t know why Rand was avoiding her to this extent, but she knew she didn’t want the newspaper staff to find out at the same time she did.

  She turned and faced him, her arms folded across her chest. “Did you get my message?”

  He crossed his arms in a mirror image of hers and leaned against the conference table. “I did.”

  “Why didn’t you call me back?”

  “I’ve been pretty busy—”

  “That won’t wash, Rand. You’ve always called me back. Even when you were tied up in court, you sent a text message to say you’d call later.”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t think there was any hurry.”

  “That’s not how you felt yesterday before Len showed up.”

  He pinned her with his eyes. “Exactly. What was the point?”

  Allie was beginning to enjoy herself. “Do you want to know more about Len?”

  “I know he was here a minute ago. Why would I want to know more?”

  “I’ve known him—”

  “I don’t want to hear this.” He turned away.

  “Since I was born. He’s my brother, Rand. My big, obnoxious brother.”

  It took a moment for her words to sink in. When they did, he turned back, a broad smile starting on his face. “Your brother?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  His eyes lit up like New York at dusk. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Allie took a step toward him. “When? You were out of there so fast—”

  “I thought…” He stepped nearer.

  “You thought what?” Another step. “That he was an old boyfriend?”

  “Hell, no. I wouldn’t have left for an old boyfriend.”

  “Then, who?”

  He moved a step closer. “I thought he was your ex-husband.”

  “Garrison? Why would you think it was Garrison?”

  He shrugged, stepping closer. “The suitcase. I didn’t figure you’d welcome an old boyfriend with a suitcase. An ex? Marriages and divorces are complicated.”

  “Garrison is in Brussels. Besides, if he showed up on my doorstep, I’d send him packing even faster than I did Len.”

  There were mere inches separating them now. Rand looked down at her. “You sent Len packing?”

  She nodded. “To the Hilton, although he can go to perdition for all I care.”

  “So, let me get this straight. There’s no one staying at your house, but you?”

  “And my dog.”

  “And your cute little non-watchdog. Seems almost too good an opportunity—”

  “To let go to waste. My thinking exactly.”

  Both had lowered their arms. They were touching now, chest to chest, so close that her breath stirred the fine hairs at his temple. Rand reached over and outlined her face with his fingertips. Allie felt the heat of the contact sear her. Another minute and they’d be on the conference table.

  Just as Rand pulled her closer with his other arm, the door opened, and Allie jumped away.

  Myrna stuck her head in. “Hey, you two OK in here? It’s awfully quiet.”

  “We were doing fine,” Rand answered, a suggestive smile on his lips, “although maybe here isn’t the best place for us to… do fine.”

  “Maybe not. We have a staff meeting in here in fifteen minutes. You two coming?”

  “Not to the staff meeting,” Rand said, his eyes still on Allie. “Next time, maybe. Right now, we have another engagement.”

  ■ ■ ■

  Sidney held up the blank clipboard as if checking the address. The magnetic door sign he’d stolen off a parked delivery vehicle—City Courier—gave him credibility if anyone missed the significance of the clipboard. He reached in the back seat and retrieved the gaily wrapped package. He was especially proud of the bow. Bright yellow. It coordinated nicely with the contents of the box. He wished he’d had time to get her something more special, but once he got settled in his new trailer in Cocoa, there’d be plenty of time. He could let his imagination go wild… and he would.

  Carrying the clipboard under one arm and moving slowly to hide his limp, he walked across the lawn to the front door. He knew she wasn’t there—no car.

  He made a big show of knocking. Then, he studied the clipboard again. After making a check in an imaginary box, he placed the package on the front stoop and walked back to his car, whistling.

  He hoped no neighbors noticed he was driving a Lexus. He hadn’t thought of that when he made his snatch. Still, if he had to be on the run, it was better to ride in luxury.

  He whistled as he opened the car door and slipped inside. He hoped Allie Grainger enjoyed her little gift.

  Ten

  Rand was right behind her when she pulled in her driveway. Neither spoke as they made their hurried way into the house. With the door barely closed behind them, Rand pulled her into his arms. There was
no caution this time, no let’s wait for later, no wine, and who the hell needed it anyway? Not she.

  She ran her hands up and down his back. His muscles felt so solid, so… male. She wanted to eat him alive. He brought his mouth down on hers, and she plunged into the kiss with all the enthusiasm of a woman long denied. She nibbled his lips, his chin, trailed her tongue to his ear as his hands traced her outline.

  His breathing was ragged. He eased her backward toward the couch. Good enough. Who needed a bed? Allie heard a moan and wasn’t sure if it was her or Rand. Or both.

  They fell the final two feet to the sofa cushion. She barely noticed. She couldn’t get enough of him. Her hands moved of their own volition—arms, shoulders, neck, back, legs. His were just as busy, caressing her, tracing each inch.

  As he moved over her, the front door slammed open. Sheryl stood in the doorway, a wrapped package clutched in her hand and her mouth open in shock. “Uh—I—uh…”

  Allie sat up, pulling her clothing right. Rand remained where he was, sprawled on the couch, a look of tolerant amusement on his face. “Deputy Levine, how are you?”

  “Jeez, guys, I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I—”

  “Didn’t knock,” Allie finished for her. “Come on in, and shut the door. Will you never learn to enter a room like a normal human being?”

  Sheryl looked sheepish. “I guess not.”

  “It would be good to see you again, Levine, if this was any other time,” Rand said, still smiling.

  “Back atcha, bud,” Sheryl said with a smile. “I need Allie.”

  He nodded. “I find myself in the same situation. You can’t have her.”

  “Who says?”

  “Hey, people,” Allie said, waving her arms. “I’ll decide who can and can’t have me, if you don’t mind.” Her face burned as she realized what she’d said. She looked at the package in Sheryl’s hand. “What’s that?”

  Sheryl looked at the box as if just remembering it. “Uh—beats me. It was on your doorstep.”

  “I didn’t notice,” Allie said, brushing the hair back from her face.

  Sheryl gave Rand the once-over and smirked. “I’m not surprised.”

  Rand grinned and looked at the package Sheryl held. “A secret admirer?”

  “God, I hope not.” Allie took the box and tore off the bow and ribbon. When she saw what was inside, she gagged and dropped the box.

  Rand and Sheryl were at her side in an instant. “What is it?”

  Sheryl pulled a pen out of her pocket and stuck it in the mass of goo that had spilled out of the box. A quick sniff and a scowl. “It’s shit. Jesus, who would send you shit?”

  “I don’t—” Then, she remembered Len saying he’d come by the house looking for her. But was Len low enough to pull a stunt like this?

  “What?” Rand and Sheryl asked in unison.

  “My brother,” Allie spat. “He said he came by this morning. Now, I know why.”

  “You really think your brother would do something like this?” Rand asked, looking down at the brown mess with distaste.

  “Do I think he’s mean enough to do it? Yes. Would I have credited him with more imagination and taste? Yes, but maybe he was short of time.” She stalked around the small room, raking her fingers through her hair. “God, I don’t know. I don’t want to think Len would do something like this, but after he threatened me—”

  “Threatened how?” Rand asked, his voice a razor.

  “Not like that. Not a physical threat. He threatened to take me to court about my inheritance. He’s convinced he’s entitled to half of that and half the proceeds of the sale of the house.”

  “You’re selling the house?” Sheryl asked.

  “No. I mean, yes. Probably. Eventually.” She looked at Sheryl. “Can you really see me living between two high-rises?”

  “Mid-rises,” Rand corrected.

  “Whatever. Who cares? I’m still the proverbial toadstool among the redwoods. I know I’ll have to sell eventually, but Len came to my office today to quote me property values. He wanted to show me how I could sell, share with him, and still make money.” She sank into a chair and dropped her head into her hands.

  Rand came to stand behind her and began to massage her neck. Allie looked up gratefully.

  “Len just doesn’t get it,” she said. “It’s not about the money. It’s about fairness, about how he and my whole family treated Aunt Lou. She specifically said in her last letter to me that I wasn’t to let any of my family bully me out of my inheritance.”

  “Do you still have the letter?” Rand asked.

  “Of course. I’ve never thrown away anything from Aunt Lou. Why?”

  “Just thinking ahead. In case he goes forward with his threat.”

  Allie shook her head. “You lawyers…”

  “Hey, don’t pigeonhole me with your brother. I just want to make sure you’re protected legally.”

  Allie reached up and squeezed his hand. “I’d never pigeonhole you with Len. He’s a shyster. You’re a man of the law.” It was on the tip of her tongue to add “like your father,” but she wasn’t sure Rand was ready to hear that yet. Someday.

  “It might not be Len,” Sheryl said, her voice low.

  Allie spun toward her. “You think Sidney was here?”

  “Isn’t he still in Polk?” Rand asked.

  “He escaped yesterday,” Sheryl said. “Sheriff’s convinced he’s headed in the other direction, but he doesn’t—” Suddenly, she paled and raced toward the bathroom. It was a replay of the night before.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Rand asked, staring after her.

  Allie bit her lip. “I don’t know, and it has me worried sick. She said a virus, but it’s been going on too long.”

  “Has she seen a doctor?”

  “That’s why I’m here,” Sheryl said, coming back in the room with a washcloth fisted in her hand. “Allie, I need you to go to Orlando with me. No questions asked.”

  “Why aren’t you seeing a local doctor?”

  Sheryl closed her eyes. “That was a question.” She looked at Allie. “I wouldn’t ask you, but if I get sick while I’m driving, it could be dangerous. Libby can’t drive. I don’t want any nosy deputy tagging along with me, and that leaves you.”

  Allie’s lips twitched. “I’m flattered.”

  She looked at Rand, who shrugged. He leaned over Allie’s shoulder and whispered, “Our day will come.” He slipped back into his shoes—when had they come off? —and with a brief salute at Sheryl, headed out the door.

  Allie reached for her purse. “What kind of doctor are you seeing?”

  “That’s another question. Please, Allie. Tell me if you can’t do this. I can probably drive myself, but…”

  Allie wanted to be with Sheryl when she learned what was wrong with her, especially if it was something serious. “One rule,” she said pulling her keys out of her purse. “I drive.”

  ■ ■ ■

  Orlando was fifty easy miles west of Cape Canaveral, and they made it in less than an hour. The trip was mostly silent. Allie knew Sheryl talked nonstop when she was nervous, so what she was feeling went way beyond nerves. Could it be fear? In all their years together, Allie had never seen Sheryl afraid, so she had nothing to gauge by.

  When they reached Orlando, Sheryl directed her from a piece of paper she clutched in her hand. It looked like handwritten notes. Soon, they were near the heart of downtown.

  Sheryl motioned Allie into a covered parking deck. When Allie took the ticket and pulled into the first available spot, Sheryl snapped off her seatbelt and turned to face her. “I want you to stay here and wait for me. I shouldn’t be very long, and it’s not hot or anything.”

  “But, Sheryl—”

  “Please, Allie. You probably think I ask a lot of you, but I need this one more favor.”

  Allie shook her head in exasperation. Sheryl asked hardly anything for herself, and she gave nonstop without ever expecting anything in return. As de
sperately as Allie wanted to know what was going on, she knew she had to honor this request—at least to a point.

  “OK. I’ll wait for you.” She held up her cell phone. “Call me if you need me to come inside or anything, OK?”

  She could see Sheryl go limp with relief. “Sure. Will do.”

  Sheryl’s hand shook as she released her seatbelt and opened the car door. She walked toward the multistory across the street with the enthusiasm of a doomed man approaching the gallows. It took all of Allie’s control not to run after her. If anyone ever needed a friend, it was Sheryl—which was the reason she didn’t chase after her. Sheryl needed a friend she could trust.

  She, however, had not promised to wait in the car. Allie watched Sheryl’s progress in the rearview mirror. A few moments after Sheryl entered a massive pair of glass doors, Allie slipped out of the car and started across the street. The sign she’d missed when she turned into the parking deck read “Orlando Regional Medical Center.” Why a medical center instead of a doctor’s office? When Allie drew closer, she realized the doors Sheryl used led to the Oncology Department. Oncology? Wasn’t that cancer?

  She stepped back, feeling the blood leave her head. Impossible! Sheryl was too young. Thirty, the same age as Allie. Cancer didn’t happen to thirty-year-olds, except Allie knew it did. Had Sheryl already been diagnosed, or was she in there having some test right now? If so, Allie intended to be with her, no matter what she had promised.

  She pushed through the double doors and stared in confusion. Corridors branched off in four directions: Oncology, Radiology, Women’s Center, and Outpatient Surgery.

  She headed toward Oncology because it was the closest. Nearly every chair was filled. Half the people appeared frail, most wearing some kind of scarf or something over their heads. One man in a wheelchair looked almost beyond medical help. Allie repressed a shiver, and she was disgusted by her faintheartedness. They were in groups of two or more. Patients and their caregivers?

  She didn’t see Sheryl in the waiting room. A receptionist sat behind a glass partition. Allie tapped the glass. When the woman slid it open, she said, “I’m meeting my friend here after her appointment. Sheryl Levine. Do you know how long she’ll be?”