“What do you want?” Francie asked sullenly.
“Hey, smile,” said Andrew. “This is our lucky day.”
“Sure,” she said with a snort.
“Listen, I’ve got a lot to tell you.”
Francie looked up angrily at him. “Andrew, what happened to you last night?”
Andrew looked surprised. “Last night? What do you mean?”
“Where did you go? That old man caught me in his barn.”
“He did?” said Andrew. “What happened? I guess he let you go.”
“Yeah, he let me go finally. But first he tied me up, and he called my sister. And he almost called the police.”
“Well, yeah. But everything’s okay now.”
“You left me there. He had a gun, and he shot it at me. How could you just leave me there?”
Andrew frowned at her as if he were concentrating on her question. “I had to,” he said. “You’ll see why when I tell you this.”
“Forget it,” said Francie, turning away from him.
He grabbed her arm. “Wait. Don’t be mad. I have everything all arranged. That’s why I had to leave last night.”
“Arranged for what?”
“For us to run away!”
“Stop yelling,” she said, looking up and down the hallway. People were still straggling into their classes, settling in for the morning. “Why should I go with you?” But her tone was more fretful than angry.
“You see, last night wasn’t the right timing. I didn’t have things ready. Now we’ve got everything packed. I’ve got the money. All we have to do is go and get the car. Come on,” he said. “I came here to get you. We can go right now.”
“I can’t,” said Francie.
“Why not?”
“I can’t just leave school. The teacher will call my sister.”
Andrew glared at her and dropped her arm. “I’ve gone to a lot of trouble,” he insisted. “Everything is ready.”
His angry tone made her heart sink. She became immediately conciliatory. “How about later?”
“When?”
“After school.”
“It’s too late.”
“My last period is study hall. I can skip that,” she offered.
The door to the ladies’ room opened, and Cindy O’Neill came out into the hall, smoothing down her skirt. She looked coolly at the pair in the hallway and then spoke to Francie. “Aren’t you supposed to be in your seat?”
Francie nodded her head nervously and threw a glance at Andrew, who was glaring at the teacher with icy, piercing eyes.
“Three o’clock?” Francie whispered hopefully.
“The stone wall, by the post office,” he said.
Cindy met his flinty gaze with her own. “I don’t believe you’re a student here, Andrew.”
“I’m leaving,” he said.
Francie nodded at him as he looked back at her. Three o’clock. It was too late. It messed up all his plans. He stomped down the hall and slammed through the front doors of the building. He would go to work for a few hours, maybe take himself a little going-away present from the cash drawer. Three o’clock would still give them a few hours’ head start. It would have to do.
Chapter 15
BETH LIFTED THE LID ON THE OLD TRUNK with the broken lock, brushing away the cobwebs as she did it. She was feeling quite proud of herself, having gotten through almost everything else in the attic already. It was going well. She had developed a rhythm as well as a rather thick skin about saving things, and it looked as if the whole house might be done tomorrow.
You are going to be a success in business, she thought. Good organizing skills. She pulled an empty garbage bag up beside the trunk, prepared to toss out the contents. The lid fell back with a snap, and a boxful of yellowed lace filled her view. As she reached in to pull it out, Beth recognized her mother’s wedding dress. She had not seen it in years.
Beth sat back on her heels and stared at the crumpled dress. She had played dress-up in it when she was little, but her mother had caught her and warned her not to rip it because she might want to wear it herself one day.
She saved it for me, Beth thought. She always was an optimist. Beth sighed and then smiled, thinking of her mother, as she held the dress absently on her lap. She had always been tenderhearted and sentimental. Beth remembered teasing her because she would cry and cry at those old black-and-white movies on the late show. Beth found herself wondering if her mother would have liked Mike. She pictured her mother’s gentle, approving eyes, and she knew that her mother would have thought he was great. An ideal husband.
Beth shook her head and looked down at the dress. Her mother wasn’t exactly the best judge of husbands. It wasn’t as if the dress had proved to be so lucky for her.
Beth hesitated, trying to decide what to do with it. Even if I ever do get married, she thought, / probably wouldn’t wear something this lacy. But she felt uncomfortable throwing it away. Her mother had dreamed of her wearing it. She had saved it for her all these years.
All right, Beth thought. I’ll find someplace to keep it. She lifted the bulky dress, now crisp with age, out of the box, and carefully started to fold it into a manageable size for storing. As she turned it over she noticed a note pinned to the bodice of the dress. It said, “For Beth and Francie. Your mother’s wedding gown.” It was written in the unmistakably stilted script of her father’s hand.
Beth stared at the note for some time, feeling slightly dazed as she realized that he was the one responsible for labeling the wedding dress and carefully storing it in the trunk. It took her a few minutes to realize that the ringing in her ears was the sound of the telephone.
Having dropped the dress into the trunk, she bolted down the stairs and grabbed the phone. On the other end was Maxine, her assistant at the office.
“How’s it going?” Maxine asked sympathetically.
“Not too bad,” Beth said, chewing thoughtfully on her lip. “I should be back in a couple of days.”
“I’m afraid,” Maxine said, “you’re going to have to get back sooner than that.”
“Like when?”
“Like tomorrow. It’s an emergency. Hanley just called from California. He’s flying in tonight, and he wants to see you tomorrow, before he makes the final decision about the headquarters building. He’s going to be here only the one day, and he insists on seeing you.”
“Damn,” said Beth. “We need to get that job. You couldn’t stall him?”
“I sweet-talked him every which way,” said Maxine. “I tried.”
“I know,” said Beth. “I know you did. It’s just that I’m going to have to fly down there tonight and then turn around and come right back up here in a day or two. What a waste of time and money.”
“I know it. I’m sorry.”
The doorbell started to ring, and Beth groaned. “Hold on a minute, Maxine. This place is suddenly Grand Central.”
Beth rushed over to the door and opened it. Cindy O’Neill stood on the front steps and looked worried as Beth threw the door open.
“Beth, do you have a minute?”
“Come in,” said Beth. “Just a sec. I’m on the phone.” Beth returned to the phone as Cindy stepped into the living room and stood there, looking around at the disarray.
“Take your coat off. Just hang it on a carton,” Beth told her. She returned to her call.
“I have company,” she explained to Maxine.
“Listen, Beth, I feel terrible about this. I wish I could have handled it for you.”
“No, it’s all right. We have to land this client. This job is gonna pay our salaries for the next six months. It’s worth the trip. All right. I’ll get busy with reservations. I’ll be home sometime tonight, probably late. But I’ll be in the office tomorrow morning at nine. You can tell him that I’m taking him to lunch. Make us a reservation somewhere nice, will you? La Famiglia, maybe.”
Maxine agreed to it, and Beth sighed. “I might as well get a nice lunch out
of it, right? See you tomorrow.”
She hung up the phone and turned to Cindy, who was perched on the edge of a chair that had clothing on hangers draped over its back. “Sounds like big business,” said Cindy.
Beth flopped down on the sofa. “It’s a big headache, I’ll tell you that. I have to go down to Philly tonight and then come back up here after I’ve taken care of this client’s problems.”
Cindy pressed her lips together and nodded.
Beth sighed. “It’s not all bad, I guess. It will give me a chance to see my—the guy I go with. We really need a visit. This phone stuff is terrible. I thought things were over for good the other night. At least he and I can have a night or two together to straighten things out.”
“Well,” Cindy said, “I hate to add to your problems, but I had a free period, and I thought I’d better come over and talk to you.”
Beth covered her eyes briefly with one hand. “Don’t tell me. What did she do now?”
“Well, it isn’t what she’s done exactly—” said Cindy.
“Did you hear about last night?” said Beth.
“No, hear what?”
Beth waved it off. “It’s a long story. Suffice it to say that she narrowly missed ending up in jail. I had to do some fast talking to get her out of a mess.”
“You may be doing that again tonight,” said Cindy.
“Hit me.”
Cindy took a deep breath. “This morning I was in the ladies’ room, and I overheard your sister and Andrew talking out in the corridor.”
“Andrew? What was he doing there?”
“From what I heard, he came to talk Francie into running away with him tonight. And I believe he succeeded.”
“Goddammit,” said Beth, jumping up from the sofa and pacing around the cluttered living room. She nearly tripped over a box, which she promptly kicked out of the way. “That guy is a real pain in the ass. He is nothing but trouble. That’s how she got into trouble last night. Because of him. I’ve had just about enough of this crap.”
“I’m sorry, Beth. I feel as if I bring you nothing but bad news all the time.”
“No, no,” said Beth. “I’m glad you told me. What the hell am I supposed to do now? I have to go to Philadelphia tonight. Now Andrew comes up with this little stunt. What’s the matter with him? Is he crazy? Didn’t he ever hear of the Mann Act?”
“I don’t know,” said Cindy. “They’re so mixed up at that age.”
“Francie maybe,” said Beth. “But there’s no excuse for him. He is old enough to know better.”
“Well,” said Cindy, pulling on her wool hat and tucking her red curls up into it, “I heard them planning to meet at three o’clock up near the post office.”
“We’ll see about that,” said Beth grimly.
“Don’t tell her I ratted on her,” said Cindy. “I feel bad about it, but I was afraid it could mean real trouble for Francie. And I like her. I mean, I’ve always had a soft spot for her because I’ve known her for so long, and she’s your sister. I also think she’s a sensitive, bright girl. Andrew is only going to mess her up. I’d hate to see that happen.”
“Believe me, Cindy. I appreciate your telling me. I’ll see to it that this little scheme never gets off the ground. You can be sure of that.”
Beth waved to Cindy as she went down the driveway and got into her little red compact car. Then she looked at her watch as she went back into the house. She had a lot to do and not much time to do it.
She went upstairs to pack her bag for the trip to Philadelphia, and then she came back down to make her airline reservations. While she was at it, she tried to call Mike again but was only able to reach his office. She left a message saying the time she would be arriving in town and hung up.
Suddenly the door to the house opened, and Francie walked in. Beth jumped and then tried to conceal her surprise. They greeted each other casually, although Beth noted the high color in Francie’s cheeks and the way she avoided Beth’s glance. She immediately went up to her room, and Beth heard the sound of drawers being opened and shut. Packing, Beth thought grimly. Okay. Here we go.
After a while she heard Francie coming down the stairs. Beth waited calmly in the kitchen, going through her papers as if there were nothing unusual going on. Francie came into the kitchen carrying a blue backpack.
“I’ve got a baby-sitting job,” she said without preamble. “I won’t be back until late.”
“What’s that for?” Beth asked, nodding toward the pack.
“Books for studying. Junk like that.”
“Oh,” said Beth, “okay.”
Francie twisted her hair absently around one finger. “Well,” she said, “good-bye.”
Beth kept her back to her sister and her head bent over her papers. “See you,” she said as casually as possible.
Francie hesitated for a second and then headed out the door.
Nothing to it, Beth thought. Just good-bye, and she walks out of my life. For a minute she felt like kicking something, but then a rueful smile crept over her face. That’s the pot calling the kettle black, she thought.
Beth waited for a few minutes to give Francie a head start. She cleaned up all her papers and put them back in their folders. They all had to go into her suitcase for the next day’s meeting. Then she pulled on her jacket and picked up the car keys. She knew what she wanted to do, and she was ready. She would intercept the would-be runaways and have it out with the two of them then and there. There was no point in being nice about this thing. She was going to settle it once and for all.
The tomblike temperature in the car made her shiver as she tried the engine. She had not been out in the course of the day, and the engine balked at her attempt to turn it over. Beth shifted around in the seat and looked up the street. Francie was well out of sight by now. After rubbing her hands together anxiously, she tried the key again. She wanted to be able to take the two of them by surprise, but she certainly didn’t want to give them a chance to get away from her. “Come on,” she muttered, pumping the gas pedal. The engine gave a sustained wheeze and then sputtered to life.
She let the engine idle for a few minutes as she planned what she would say. She rehearsed her speech aloud, and her breath fogged up the insides of the car’s windows. She flipped on the heat and the defroster, wiped the inside of the windshield impatiently with her gloved hand, and began to back down the driveway.
The afternoon sky was a dull, steely gray, and the clouds were like wide paintbrush strokes of a darker, more purplish hue. Beth could not see Francie anywhere on the street as she drove, and she hoped again that she had not let the girl get too far ahead of her. There was not much traffic on the road. A few pickup trucks passed Beth, going in the other direction. Beth slowly climbed the hill to the corner near the post office and glanced out. Sure enough, there was Francie, standing by the stone wall, looking up the street to her right. Beth quickly made a left and circled the block again. She came up on the corner from behind and pulled over into the parking lot of the little branch office of the savings bank. She could see Francie clearly now, though the girl’s back was to her. She was shifting her pack from side to side as she peered in first one direction and then the other.
Despite the cold, Beth switched off the car engine, so that the sound of the idling car did not attract Francie’s attention. This shouldn’t take long, Beth thought. She made an estimate of the distance between her and Francie, wanting to be sure that when Andrew’s car pulled up, she would have time to make it up the hill before Francie could get in and they could pull away. It’s only a short sprint, she reassured herself. You’ll have your hand on the door before she even gets that pack in the car.
With a sigh Beth settled back against the seat and watched for Andrew, although she felt anything but relaxed. The car had heated up a little on the ride over, but it was getting cold again quickly. As Beth watched, Francie removed the backpack from her shoulder and rested it on the wall. She shifted her weight from foot to
foot, occasionally pushing her hair back from her face when a gust of wind rearranged it.
Beth looked down at the dial of her watch. It was past three. Andrew should be coming around the corner any minute, she thought. She craned her neck to look up and down the street, but she had no view from where she was situated, so she settled down again. She would just have to rely on Francie’s reaction to know he was coming.
Francie wiped her nose on the sleeve of her parka and stared in the general direction of Andrew’s house. After a few more minutes she stamped her feet, crossed her arms in front of her, and pressed her hands under her armpits.
No gloves, Beth observed. That figured. She sighed, but at the same time she had a fleeting wish that she had an extra pair in the car to give her. She wondered whatever made Francie think that she could manage on her own with Andrew. I sometimes feel I can’t manage on my own, she thought ruefully.
Beth yawned, but it was a yawn of nervousness, not of tiredness. She thought about turning on the radio, but she didn’t trust the battery in the old car. She still had to drive it to the airport tonight. She looked down again at her watch. It was getting close to four, and Andrew had not yet appeared.
Francie turned around for a minute, and Beth ducked, afraid that the girl had sensed she was being watched and that she would spot her there, lying in wait. But Francie was only facing the wall to climb up on it and sit down. Once she had hoisted herself up on the stones, she wriggled around and sat there, her thin legs dangling in front of her.
She began to rock back and forth as she sat there, picking up her pack and clutching it to her chest like a mother trying to rock her baby to sleep.
Beth shifted in her seat, feeling pins and needles in her nether region that were partly from the cold and partly from the fact that her legs were going to sleep.
The sky had started to darken, the early winter night chasing away what little daylight there had been. The paintbrush clouds were turned to charcoal as the gray light drained from the sky and the darkness came on. A sliver of moon glowed weakly over the rugged horizon. The inside of the car was like a refrigerator now, but at least it wasn’t windy. Beth was grateful for that. She could see the occasional gust lift Francie’s hair and ripple the surface of her limp, well-worn jacket. Francie dislodged a hand from under her arm to push her glasses back up on her nose. Then she slumped back, her chin resting atop the pack with the forlorn look of a dog that has been banished from the room.
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