Sisters of Spirit, Pure Romance Set

by Nancy Radke

  Using the lipstick, she changed the “J” to an “L” and underlined the word “boat.” It was all she had time to do, for Larry shut her suitcase and crossed impatiently to where she stood.

  “Here.” He handed her her jacket, and she placed it over one arm, tucking the worksheet underneath. She now had a second message to leave, not much of one, but maybe she could add to it.

  Or would someone think it was just a child’s homework and throw it away?

  “What will you do with the checks?” she asked.

  “I’ll deposit them,” he said, placing them in his shirt pocket. “Then I’ll go to another bank and close out the account I deposited them into.”

  Could he do that, or would Jared’s stop check alert the bank so that they wouldn’t cash it? Had Jared even made that call? He hadn’t asked her for the phone number of the bank. He might have been coming out of his office to do so when he overheard her talking to Richard. There was no way of knowing.

  “It’s too late,” she protested. “The banks are closed.”

  “I’ll use ATMs. I closed all but two of my accounts while I was waiting for you—the accounts these checks go into. They’re the largest ones, so we’ll be able to live on them quite a while in Mexico.”

  “Mexico? I... I thought we were going to Canada,” she said, still trying to decide. Stay or run. She did not want to get onto his boat, so it looked like she had to run.

  Confronting him in the house was too dangerous. She needed to get outside, onto the busy street. And she needed to leave the paper behind, where it would catch someone’s eye.

  Larry motioned her before him out the front door, and she walked out, made sure he cleared the doorway, then stopped.

  “I’ve got to make sure my... my stove is off,” she said, thinking it sounded a lame excuse as she pushed past him back into her apartment. She ran into the kitchen, faked a quick check, then returned, dropping the paper on the floor as she pulled the door behind her.

  She left it unlocked, slightly ajar, and walked to the street. Larry was already at his car, tossing her suitcase into the back. He got into the driver’s seat, pulled the door shut, and rolled down his window, a smile of satisfaction on his face as she approached.

  The checks in his shirt pocket beckoned her like chocolate candy to a five-year-old. She leaned forward as if to speak and snatched them out. She had acted on the opportunity, without further thought, and now turned and ran, dropping her jacket as she raced down the sidewalk, Larry’s enraged yell spurring her on.

  Ellen looked ahead, down the empty street. She had to reach help. Where were all the people that had been out jogging and walking the area such a short time ago?

  She ran as fast as she could, white bits of paper dropping from her fingers as she shredded the checks. Larry was not going to get any more money because of her.

  The squeal of tires made her glance back. The dark form of his car hurtled towards her, its engine roaring. Desperate, she dove into a courtyard surrounded with a concrete fence.

  The car leapt the curb and screeched to a halt. Larry charged out the door, yelling furiously.

  She ran towards the apartment complex, but before she reached the first door, Larry caught up with her. He pulled her back toward the car as she bit and scratched and kicked, determined not to get into it.

  He was a small man; her struggles slowed him down, but not enough. She screamed, and he clamped one hand over her mouth as he shoved her roughly inside and climbed in with her.

  Jared stared at his map, then up at the street sign. This was it. Ellen’s home should be nearby. He examined the numbers again, figured out which side of the street it should be on, then drove slowly forward, one eye closed, reading the numbers off the doors.

  There. The old cozy-looking, somewhat run-down building, dark shakes, stucco finish, with an outdoor staircase. She had number two, a ground floor apartment, and he spotted it right away.

  He stopped, got out, and picked up the dark object lying on the sidewalk in front of him. A jacket. It looked like Ellen’s.

  Striding up to her door, he started to knock, but the door moved under his fist, opening into darkness.

  “Ellen?” He reached around, found the switch and turned on the light. No answer.

  A white paper on the floor just inside caught his eye, and he picked it up, recognizing the lesson sheet. Knew the words. Larry... boat.

  “Ellen!” He shouted her name, searched the place swiftly, spotted the words on the mirror. Read them.

  The message cut him in two, leaving him shaken, sick; his world blackened with fear. If anything happened to her, he would die.

  He ran out the door and reached his car before he realized he should call the Coast Guard. He stopped. Where would Larry moor his boat?

  A woman’s scream, a few doors down, interrupted his thoughts, and he looked that way, not wanting to break concentration.

  Should he phone first?

  He’d better. Turning, he started to return to the apartment, at the same time glancing over to see what caused the commotion.

  Ellen—fighting Larry. As Jared watched, Larry pushed her into the car—and she kept on going, right out the other side.

  “Stop!” With a yell, Jared sprinted the quarter block to reach them. Larry, intent on Ellen, didn’t see him coming, and Jared grabbed him, spun him around, and hit him. All the force of his anger was released in the blow and Larry sprawled face down, flat on the ground. When he tried to get up, Jared simply knelt on Larry’s head. The action kept Larry on the ground and himself from killing him.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, as Ellen ran around the car.

  “Yes,” she said, sitting down on the curb as she gasped for breath. “I think so. Would you believe—he thought I was helping him steal your money?”

  “He did?”

  “Yes. I was so grateful for his help with the computer—”

  “He thought you liked him. I can imagine that.”

  “He came to take me with him.”

  “She tore up the checks!” Larry shouted, sounding betrayed. “Into small pieces.”

  “They were in the back of my car. I never sent them out on Friday.” She stood, shakily. “Shall I call the police?”

  “Someone beat you to it.” Jared pointed to the flashing blue lights on an approaching car. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He held out his hand to her and she moved to him and took it, giving it a squeeze. He smiled, knowing exactly how a knight felt when he rescued his lady. No need to fear pity anymore.

  Ellen gave her statement to the Kirkland police, who took Larry into custody. Jared added his account, and then they were free to leave. As they walked slowly back to her apartment, their hands intertwined, Ellen pointed to a tiny scrap of white paper underfoot. “There’s what’s left of those three checks. Larry hasn’t drawn out the money in those false accounts yet, so you might be able to recover a lot more.”

  “I’ll get our lawyer on it. I’m just thankful you’re safe. When I read your note—”

  “You read it?”

  “Yes. That wasn’t half as hard as following the map to this place.”

  She stopped. Stared at him. “Explain.”

  He laughed, a short, hard bark of a laugh. “I see double. I thought everyone saw like I did. But you don’t, do you?”

  “No.” While searching for reasons for Jared’s problem, she had come across double vision, but had skimmed over it. It was the night before she had begun to work as his office manager and her mind was focused on other things. “You do everything so well, it’s hard to imagine.”

  “When I was a kid, I was considered clumsy; always knocking things over. It took me awhile to learn to how to handle it. I thought everyone else had the secret.”

  “As you grew older, the print got smaller—”

  “And the words danced around on the page. The older I got, the worse it got. The level of frustration became so high, I gave up trying.”

  �
��Let me try something.” She walked three feet away and turned to face him. “Look at that street light over there.” She pointed to one behind her. “Okay. Hold one hand over your left eye.” She counted silently to five, then said, “Now try the other eye.”

  He switched hands. He was right. The open eye remained focused on the light. The left eye, the one he had covered, had drifted outward to a forty-five degree angle. Once uncovered, it swung slowly towards her until it too was focused.

  He covered his right eye, then took his hand away when she nodded. The right eye did the same thing, drifting to almost a thirty-degree angle while covered.

  “Now stare at it, hard, using both eyes.”

  She could actually see them wavering, pulling away and then returning. No wonder they got tired.

  “You’re right. Your eyes don’t track together,” she said, excitedly, doing a little twirl and clapping her hands together. “That’s all it is. The harder you try to read, the worse you do. The muscles of your eyes are fighting each other.”

  “It’s correctable, right?”

  “I’m sure it would be. Surgery on the muscles.” She shook her head, amazed she hadn’t tumbled onto it. If only she hadn’t been under so much stress, trying to learn a new job.

  “The optometrist my parents took me to never spotted it.”

  “He probably wasn’t looking for it. Some doctors make a more thorough exam than others. Actually, you could read right now, by keeping one eye closed.”

  “That’s how I got here.”

  “Why didn’t you try that sooner?”

  “Nobody else reads with one eye closed; so as a kid, I wasn’t about to. Then it got too late; I was too far behind. But it was the only way I could read the spreadsheets.”

  “Your appointment’s coming up soon.”

  “I’ll be there. You’ll come with me?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  He caught her up in his arms and spun her around. “My miracle worker!”

  “Far from it. I should’ve spotted your problem a long time ago.”

  He hugged her tighter and kissed her until she gasped for breath. “Jared!”

  “Wow!” He looked as ecstatic as she felt. “I have good news,” he said. “Richard agrees that I can head up the boat yard.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “Also I told Angelique about my reading problem. She’s not going to print anything.”

  “She’s not? That’s hard to believe.”

  “I told her about you. She wished me good luck, although she did warn me she still considered me fair game on everything else.”

  “Then Angelique will probably have people thinking I’m your... your....”

  “...my lover?” His voice held the word in a long caressing drawl, as if reluctant to cast it aside. He half-closed his eyes, staring at her from under thick, dark lashes. “And aren’t you?”

  There was no longer any doubt of his genuine feeling for her. He touched her face as if she was of rare porcelain, afraid to break the spell she had woven over him. Their lips met, soft, then harder, enjoying each escalating sensation. She basked in his favor. He had the ability to make her glow, and looking at him, she realized she had done it to him, also.

  “Yes. I guess I am.”

  “Permanently?”

  “What about your other women? Like Bunny.”

  “Bunny? What about her?” He looked puzzled. “Oh, you never met Bunny, did you?” He laughed, a full, delighted sound that thrilled her even as it puzzled her. What was the joke?

  “No.”

  “Bunny is sweet and sexy; a fantastic dresser, artistic, talented, with a wonderful personality. She is also,” he paused a second, then added with a grin, “sixty-six years old.”

  “Oh.”

  “So you’ve no reason to be jealous of her.”

  “How about Sharon? I know she’s not sixty.” As soon as Ellen said the words, she wished she could retract them. She did not want him to feel like he had to give an account to her. A controlling woman. Now that she was aware of it, she could see when she did it.

  “No. She’s not. But I couldn’t get close to her or any woman.”

  “Why not?”

  “They might figure out I couldn’t read. You know that.”

  “Oh, yes. I keep forgetting.”

  He laughed again and hugged her tighter. “That’s one of the things I love about you. How could you forget?”

  “I just do. I guess it’s not important to me.”

  “I wish it was that way with everyone. Will you marry me?”

  She remembered the way she’d felt tonight. Lost and lonely and wanting him above all others. “Yes. I’d better.”

  “And why is that?”

  “I’m not going to let anyone else get you.”

  He cupped her face gently with his fingers. “You’d better not. I’ll call Angelique and tell her she can announce our engagement. That should reward her.”

  Hypnotized by the whisper-soft lightness of his touch and the spell of the night, Ellen offered no resistance as his fingers traced along her jaw line, the slight pressure lifting her lips to his.

  “I thought you didn’t want me,” she whispered.

  “When I thought I’d lost you—that Larry had taken you—well, it made me realize how much I love you. Losing my job was nothing compared to losing you.”

  He caught her tightly to him, the loneliness of a lifetime surging forth in the desperation of his kisses, almost overwhelming her. She felt as if she were surrounded by a huge orchestra, the violins sweeping the melody into the heavens, and her and Jared along with it. She rejoiced in the knowledge that Jared wanted her, needed her—for herself, and not for anything she might do for him.

  “Let’s go inside,” she said, trying to catch her breath when they parted for a second.

  “As you wish.”

  Her lights were on, welcoming them, the front door wide open... just like Jared’s life from now on.

  The End

  Thank you for reading “CLOSED DOORS.” If you enjoyed this book, I would appreciate it if you’d help other readers enjoy it too by recommending it to friends, readers’ groups, and discussion boards, or by writing a short review on Amazon. Thank you.

  If you have a child with reading or math problems, I encourage you to go to the web site www.dyslexia.com, or get Ron Davis’ book, The Gift of Dyslexia.

  THE END

  STOLEN SECRETS

  by Nancy Radke

  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25

  1

  Ryan Duvall could take down a man armed with a knife, but he couldn’t stand a woman armed with a tongue. To avoid the tongue seated next to him, he had stood up for most of the four-hour flight from Anchorage to Seattle. The crew didn’t mind— he always flew as an armed air marshal, supplementing their regular men.

  The seatbelt light forced him to sit down.

  “Hello again,” the woman said. “Are you in television? You remind me of that good-looking actor I saw in ‘Morgan’s Bluff.’” She leaned closer, secure in her beauty, while her make-up, her clothes, her perfume— everything about her turned him off.

  “No, that wasn’t me.” Ryan said, considering how to shut her up. He had once been engaged to a stunningly beautiful woman who had left him as soon as she had gone through his ready cash.

  Usually he brought a newspaper to gain privacy, although it probably wouldn’t have stopped this woman.

  “I’ve got friends in television. Do you know...”

  Beyond her he could see the white snow hurtling past the window. Ryan pulled out his cell phone and speed-dialed his office. That stopped her, and he smiled with satisfaction.

  After two rings a female voice answered. “Sunderstrom and Duvall Security Systems. How may I direct your call?”

  “Patti Jean. Scott there?”

  “Yes. His meeting just broke up.” Ryan could hear the ring as she transferred him to Scot
t’s office.

  “Scott Sunderstrom.”

  Ryan settled back in relief. “We’ve a tail wind. Coming in early.”

  “Good. It’s snowing hard here. Did they announce it?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s a huge mess. They forecast rain today so no one was prepared. You know how Seattle is.”

  Ryan did. Seattle’s steep hills— combined with slick wet snow— produced fender-benders and cars in ditches.

  “How was Anchorage when you left?” Scott asked.

  “Raining.”

  “Weird. We don’t ever get snow before Thanksgiving. Not that I can remember, that is. And this is coming down in huge flakes. If it keeps up, we’ll have two or three feet by morning. The temperature’s dropping fast. Metro’s a mess. I’ll meet you at the Sound Transit station. Wait for me.”

  “Did they return my car to the office?”

  “Yes, it’s here, ready to go. They couldn’t recharge the battery, it was totally dead. The mechanic installed a new one.”

  “Bring all my CDs, just in case we can’t get back there.”

  The woman continued to stare at Ryan and he held the phone higher and turned his head. With a snort she ignored the seatbelt light and stood up, forcing her way past his knees and out to the aisle.

  Ryan smiled, happy to see her go.

  “What happened at the oil company?” Scott asked.

  “Whoever broke in got past my system and into MXOIL. They weren’t too happy.”

  “Oh.”

  “I took their installation CD with me, so I fixed the damaged files and changed some passwords. But I’ve got to update all their systems to plug the hole he found.”

  “I’ll leave now. See you.”

  “Okay.” Ryan hung up. Immediately the woman appeared, working her way back into her seat.

  “Are you in the music business? I heard you talking about your CDs.” The woman leaned forward, her hand on his arm, her long fingernails painted a dark red. He stared at them, irritated.

  “No.”

  “The movies, then?”

  “No.”

  “I bet you’re a producer. You know, I’ve been a model...”