After the two boys reached the next block, Alan strode down the wide stone steps, ignoring the other people coming and going. He slipped away from the plaza and around the corner into the parking lot shared by all Blue Haven government buildings. There, he got into the driver’s seat of the car he was using here, a somewhat beat-up gray SUV, and locked the doors. Then he pulled his mobile phone from his pocket.
He had a text from his boss, Judge Treena Avalon. It was brief and to the point. He was to call her ASAP. It was important. She’d sent it about an hour ago.
Wasting no time, Alan pushed the button for the judge’s cell phone. She answered almost immediately.
“Alan. Just checking in. Everything okay there?” Her voice was strong and intimidating. That was who Judge Treena was: demanding, no-nonsense, intense. But she was also kind, especially to the subjects taken on by the ID Division. She cared about both them and her staff.
“Fine,” he said, “but no news yet.”
“Then you haven’t run into Kelly Ladd?”
Should he protect the woman he had met, who might be this Kelly, and after the same evidence he sought?
If he told Judge Treena he had not only seen her but talked to her several times, the judge might tell him to get her alone and order her back to the life the ID Division had created for her, where she had promised to stay.
On the other hand, she might actually be an asset to him here, if they could work together—and if she helped him rather than hindered him.
That was his preference. The fact that she was one gorgeous woman he would have liked, under other circumstances, to get to know better was irrelevant.
It had to be.
If things changed and Kelly did get in his way, he could notify the judge that he had indeed located her.
But for now...
“Not as far as I know,” he lied. “But I’m keeping my eyes open for her. And I’m hoping to gather some of that hard evidence we’re looking for here soon.”
Chapter 4
Kelly felt exhausted that afternoon. She realized it was probably more related to adrenaline and stress than actually having worked harder than she had previously in the few days since she had begun as a server here. But whatever the cause, she couldn’t allow it to show now that she’d returned to the busy-as-usual restaurant. After seeing Eli, the last thing she wanted was to irritate Ella and jeopardize the job that was her cover.
The job that had let her get near and observe her nephew, and had the potential of allowing her continued access to him, at least sporadically. She hoped.
The job that got her into Stan’s presence. Now she just had to figure out the best way she, as Kelly, could bring him down.
And she couldn’t help worrying about Alan and his involvement with the city council—and more—and his potential interference. But she would figure out a way to deal with him.
She had to.
At least time seemed to move swiftly as she wove her way through the tables assigned to her for the rest of the day, the rear corner that managed to stay quite occupied despite being farthest from the door.
As she worked, she allowed her concentration to ebb just a little when she felt she could. Her mind kept analyzing what had happened earlier.
Yes, she had seen the one person she’d really hoped to: Eli. She had also seen Stan, and the fact that he, like Eli, hadn’t recognized her was a really good thing.
But one person she’d been watching for hadn’t appeared. She still hadn’t seen Stan’s assistant, Paul Tirths. Was Paul still around?
When Andi had disappeared and Kelly’s alter ego, Shereen, had sought help and answers from anyone who knew Andi or her husband or both, Paul had been the one who’d hinted strongly that Stan had killed his wife and hidden her body. Later, he’d denied having said anything that could have led Kelly to draw such a heinous conclusion, especially about his boss—but she had believed he was lying then, not previously.
He had said nothing concrete. Nothing that could prove what had happened to Andi or lead to her body.
Then there had been the threats to Shereen for daring to question Stan’s involvement in Andi’s disappearance: speeding cars that nearly hit her while she was crossing city streets at night, even the street outside her apartment. No injury, fortunately, but only at times there were no witnesses, so no license plates, no vehicle identification. No perpetrator caught.
The last straw for Shereen was the night a bullet was fired through her bedroom window. No one witnessed the shooter, and although the type of gun was identified from the bullet, its owner wasn’t.
Was that because local cops were protecting Stan?
And Shereen could provide no evidence to the authorities about Andi, or about the fact that she, too, was being targeted, except for that one bullet. All she could supply were claims...and questions.
So, ultimately, she had fled.
But now wasn’t the time to focus on any of that. Kelly had to continue to do an excellent job as a restaurant server—and she would.
Some of her latest customers appeared to be women out for the afternoon, maybe enjoying time away from their kids in school. Another group of women were all clad in suits and dresses and appeared to be holding some kind of business meeting. A few guys in exercise outfits, possibly bicyclists, came in to take a break, and then there were several couples who could have been on midafternoon dates.
Speculating on who they were and their backgrounds helped to keep Kelly going. She attempted to recognize anyone, especially people who might recognize her. Fortunately, that didn’t appear to be an issue.
Her fellow server Tobi got into her standard quips and observations about their customers as they passed each other while turning orders in to the kitchen and picking up food to deliver. She clearly enjoyed speculating about supposed backgrounds and motives to come here, and her chatter helped keep Kelly smiling, efficient—and awake.
Lang Elgin, one of the few male servers, joined in now and then as he passed with food in his hands. Lang was a midforties guy whose paunch beneath his white shirt and dark pants suggested he enjoyed nibbling on the restaurant’s food. He also joked about how the female waitresses got all the good assignments—like the ability to leave for a few hours. Kelly and Tobi just laughed at that, and Lang grinned back.
Kelly’s shift was finished at seven o’clock, but at six forty, the cause of some of her stress walked right through the front door.
Fortunately, there were several tables available, many right near the restaurant’s door. Kelly could only hope that if Alan intended to stay and eat, he would choose one toward the front, and not in her area.
When she noticed him, she had her arms full of burgers and salads that she was about to put in front of another group of people dressed as if for a business meeting—two women and a man. She served them with smiles and the right amount of attention, saying she would be back with more coffee.
But when she turned, Alan was immediately behind her. He had chosen a table in Kelly’s section.
She felt the color drain from her face as her pasted-on smile sagged. She was going to have to deal with him again today, before she’d had time to think things through and determine how to act around him—if she had to again.
Well, now she had to. Immediately.
Fortunately, she had a good excuse for not taking his order right away. Instead, she went to get coffee for the table she had just left. The people there grinned and thanked her as she filled empty cups or warmed the brew left in other cups with a fresh top-off. Then she returned the nearly empty pot to where she’d picked it up, making her way through the still-filled tables and wishing that one of the other servers decided they simply had to have an extra tip, and would therefore take the order of the latest customer.
That didn’t happen. It would apparently go against the servers’ unspoken credo of fairness to one another, as well as Ella’s official assignments. Alan’s table was Kelly’s privilege and responsibility for
the evening.
When Kelly turned back again to approach her serving area, most everyone appeared to be eating, drinking or conversing, and in any case ignoring her.
But not Alan. He was watching her, the expression on his good-looking but unnerving face bland—yet Kelly couldn’t help wondering what he was really thinking.
Sighing and pasting another false smile on her face, Kelly started making her way back to the tables she was serving.
“You okay?” Tobi, busing a tray of dirty dishes, was suddenly blocking her way.
Damn. It wasn’t a good idea to appear as if she had issues at all here, not even with someone she hadn’t known before and who might be a friend and kind of ally now.
“Absolutely.” Kelly made a point of turning that fake smile into one she hoped looked real. “I’m just a bit tired after our visit to the plaza and helping there in addition to my regular shift. I’m not used to it—yet. But I’ll get there. It was fun, and I really enjoy working here.”
Was she laying it on too thick? Maybe, but Tobi just snorted a laugh. “It gets better,” she said. “Or worse, depending on how you look at it. But if you need some help getting through the rest of today, let me know.”
Really? She could just beg Tobi’s help to handle Alan’s order?
Kelly almost gave in to her impulse to say yes.
But although that might temporarily make her feel better, it wouldn’t resolve any issues she had with the guy—assuming her worry about being here and exhaustion weren’t the only problems.
“Thanks so much for the offer,” she told Tobi, “but I’m fine. I’ll take a rain check if we have another day like this one, though. Okay?”
“Sure.” Then Tobi was gone, slipping between the filled tables toward the kitchen door. Lang was near there, too, apparently putting in an order.
It was time for Kelly to go take Alan’s order.
Well, good, she told herself. He would likely be around as long as she was in town, and she simply had to learn to deal with him better.
“So what can I get for you this evening?” she asked as she reached his table. She hoped he would say he wanted nothing and just leave, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen.
“Now that you’re becoming a veteran server here and at Government Plaza, what would you recommend?” He smiled as he gave her a long, assessing—and hot—look that suggested he hoped she’d recommend sex with her.
Wasn’t going to happen—even though parts of her body started churning in reaction to the thought.
Damn. What was it about this guy that got to her so much? He worried and unnerved her—but he also somehow turned her on.
Her mind grappled for a way to avoid seeing him again while she was here, but that would occur only if he stopped coming to the Haven. And she was sure that wasn’t going to happen.
“Oh, lots of people say good things about our burgers,” she said lightly. “I’m sure you’ve eaten them, though. What are you interested in trying?”
At his amused and even more suggestive look at her, she felt herself nearly melting onto the tiled floor. She hadn’t meant to say anything that could be interpreted as the tiniest bit suggestive, but she had.
“There’s a lot I’m interested in trying, but I think I’ll stick with one of my standard sandwiches here tonight—a chicken club.”
“Fine.” Kelly took her notepad from her pocket and jotted it down, along with the kind of bread and sides he ordered. This wasn’t too bad. She was acting appropriately as a waitress, and he was acting appropriately as a customer.
Before she left to put his order in, though, he brought her up short by saying, “Of course I know you don’t serve alcohol here, but I’d love a beer later. How about you?”
Was he asking her out? She shuddered slightly as she looked him in the face and said, “Oh, I’m more of a wine person myself, but we don’t serve that here, either. Sorry.” That didn’t exactly address what he’d asked, but maybe he would get the message.
“Very good. What time is your shift here over? If I’ve finished eating and left by then, I’ll come back for you, and we’ll go get you some wine and me some beer.”
Kelly inhaled deeply. She didn’t really want to deal with this here while she was working. How should she handle it? “Sorry,” she said. “When I’m through here, I’m just heading back to my place. I’m rather tired tonight.” Although she hadn’t told him to buzz off, she hoped he’d get it. If not, she would have to make it clearer if he asked her out again.
But his response made her freeze in fear, and not because she was scared of seeing him in any social capacity.
“I understand,” he said, his voice quiet. “But I know who you really are, and you and I need to talk right away.”
* * *
Alan had to hand it to her. Except for her initial split-second twitch of apparent nervousness, Kelly—her cover name, of course—maintained her cool demeanor.
She even managed a laugh as she said to him softly in return, “Now, that’s a line I’ve never heard before. Let’s see. I know who you are, too—Clark Kent. But I won’t let anyone know that you’re really Superman and likely to fly away soon.”
“Good. I appreciate that. Now, what time do you get off?” He hoped that taking a firm stance would convince her to go along with him. He didn’t want to even hint at threatening her with exposure around here to gain her cooperation. It was something he would never do, even if, as a last resort, he had to make her think he would.
He didn’t take his eyes off her. She remained standing beside his table, but he could see her body tense as she squeezed the hand not holding her notepad into a fist. He figured she wanted to slug him or run. Or both.
But, smart lady that she was, she kept all emotion inside except for those few reactions he was watching for.
Beautiful lady, too. A lady who could probably use some support—emotional, and maybe also physical, since she appeared to sway just a little.
But then she seemed to get a hold of herself. “Hey, great idea.” She smiled sexily at him as she leaned down and kept her voice somewhat low—although those around them might be able to hear it if they tried. “I’m new to this town and have lots of questions about it that I’m dying to ask a longer-time resident. I’m off in ten minutes. When and where should we meet?”
* * *
Kelly hated to play things this way, but it was part of the training pounded into her while changing her identity. Play along with things as much as possible if put into a compromising position. Never admit anything about yourself or your past.
Stay alert and always be smart.
So was this smart?
It was now seven fifteen. Sighing, wishing she could go the other direction, she instead pulled out of the Haven’s small parking area for staff that was behind the restaurant. She headed carefully onto the wide city street, busy even at this hour. That was Blue Haven, with its active residents.
The car she drove had been given to her as part of her cover: a ten-year-old dull red domestic sedan that desperately needed a new paint job. Fortunately, it had survived its cross-country trip. She was a waitress not only here, but also where she had been placed by the Identity Division, in Baltimore. Restaurant servers didn’t make much money, so an aging car, and as tiny and cheap an apartment as possible in this California beach town, helped her hide her real identity. Truth was, she actually didn’t have much money except for her salary, even though the ID Division had provided her with an initial stipend to get her started.
Oh, the money she had saved while living here in Blue Haven and working in its best elementary school as a teacher was still hers. But it was in accounts under Shereen Alsop’s name, and Kelly would dare to try using it again only as a last resort. What if Stan knew about those accounts and had paid their administrators off to let him know if Shereen tried to get into them?
Now, glad she had changed clothes before leaving, she drove only a few blocks in the opposite direction fr
om the elite little town’s civic center to the local bar that Alan had told her about, where they would meet, ostensibly for a date. He’d offered to drive her himself, but she wanted her own vehicle close by in case she felt most comfortable fleeing—after giving a good excuse, of course, like she was getting ill.
Which she might be, upon considering the impending meeting.
She had frequented Tony’s Lounge now and then when she had been old enough after growing up in Blue Haven. Going there just added to her hurdles of potentially running into someone who might recognize her. Despite the chummy name, it was a lounge of renown around here, where many local politicos and businesspeople met after hours to toast deals they’d made that day with pricey drinks. Even elementary school teachers frequented it occasionally—especially one whose sister, a real estate broker, was married to a city council member.
Kelly pulled her car down the familiar driveway between Tony’s and the Haven Liquor Locker beside it. Both were owned by one family, and Andi had been in the same high school class as the son, Tony Jr. Kelly knew him, but not nearly as well as her sister had, so she wasn’t worried about him recognizing her.
The parking lot behind the bar was busy, but she quickly found a space.
Before she got out of her car, Alan was beside the driver’s door, waiting for her.
She swallowed. Years ago, she had occasionally been on stage in high school plays. She knew how to act—and her acting abilities had been enhanced by the Transformation Unit instructors while her identity was changed.
It was time. She grabbed her purse from the floor in front of the passenger’s seat.
When Alan opened the door for her, she smiled broadly and said, “Well, fancy seeing you here. Let’s go get a drink.”
* * *
Kelly had changed her clothing a bit from the garb she wore as a server, Alan noted while she matched her pace to his as they entered through the bar’s back door. She still wore the same white blouse and somewhat uncomfortable-looking shoes, but she’d donned a longer skirt.
Theoretically, he supposed, that should make her appear less sexy.
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