The Escape Artist

by Diane Chamberlain

  She watched as Jessie carried Cody through the press of people, then directed her attention to the painting in front of her. It was another jungle scene, similar to the mural she liked best. "Acrylics?" she asked. It had to be for him to get those vibrant, opaque colors that marked his work.

  "Uh huh," he said.

  She wanted to tell him how much she'd enjoyed his murals and hunted for words she could use that wouldn't make her sound completely ignorant. "There's a strength in your paintings," she said. "They're…hard to ignore. You can't look at them without feeling something, some emotion, even in these smaller sizes. It's the colors, and I don't know …" She cocked her head to study the exotic white bird nestled in the green of the jungle. "It's your style. You really have a style all your own."

  "Thanks," he said. "It's probably because I paint what I dream."

  She looked over to see Cody reach out to touch the dolphin's icy nose. He pulled his hand away with a surprised giggle.

  "You paint what you dream?" she repeated.

  "Yeah. Or at least I used to. I used to get up every morning and sketch my dreams. You know, the way some people keep a dream journal? Then I'd pick my favorites and paint them." He reported this without enthusiasm, as though he'd said it many times before.

  "No wonder they're so unique. You're not painting what everyone else sees. Just what you see."

  "Hmm." He actually seemed to perk up at that as though he liked her analysis. Then he followed her eyes to the dolphin. Jessie had started talking with someone, a woman who was making the monkey's hand touch Cody's nose over and over again.

  "He's all right." Adam touched Kim's arm lightly, kindly. "Jessie's oozing with maternal instincts."

  "Adam!" A woman in a red sequined dress approached them.

  "Hi." Adam bussed the woman's cheek.

  "These are wonderful, Adam," she said. "You shouldn't have kept them locked away for so long."

  Kim felt intrusive. "I'd better go get Cody," she said to Adam, but he caught her elbow in his hand and held it firmly.

  "Don't go," he said. It was a plea of some sort, and there was such unmistakable sincerity in his voice that she didn't budge. To the woman, he said, "I'm glad you're enjoying them."

  "When do we get to see something new?" the woman asked.

  "One of these days." That forced smile again.

  "Don't make it too long, please." The woman winked at him and slipped back into the crowd.

  Adam turned to her. "I would have introduced you, but I can't remember her name," he said.

  "Oh. No problem."

  "So, which is your favorite of the murals?" he asked.

  "Actually, the jungle scene on Duke of Gloucester Street."

  "The dream was even better," he said. "I don't think I ever quite captured the feeling of it."

  "What about the mural you're working on. The one on the bank? When will it be finished?"

  He shook his head. "Probably never." He rubbed his short beard with his hand. "I stopped working on it about six months ago. My dreams turned to shit around then." He looked at her apologetically. "Sorry."

  She wasn't sure what to say. There'd been an accident, Cherise had said. What had happened?

  "What sort of painting do you do?" He turned the focus to her.

  "None." She smiled at him. "My dreams turned to shit about thirteen years ago."

  He laughed at that, then quickly sobered. "Thirteen years, huh? Now that's discouraging."

  Kim looked over at the ice dolphin, but she couldn't spot Jessie and Cody. She stood up on her toes, her heart kicking into high gear, then she turned in a quick circle. Nowhere. "Excuse me," she said to Adam. "I—"

  "Over there." Adam pointed toward the back of the room. Jessie was sitting on a countertop, talking with a man standing near her. Cody was on her lap.

  "Oh," Kim said, relieved. "I should go free your sister."

  "A little separation anxiety?" Adam asked. "I can appreciate that. It was nice talking to you, Kim. Hope you get back to painting one of these days."

  "You too," she said. "And I'm very glad I had a chance to meet you." She reached out to shake his hand, but a man stepped in front of her and pulled Adam into an embrace, and she slipped away to get her son.

  She was relieved to get Cody back in her arms again, but he was getting antsy, and she decided she would have to come back some other day to see the rest of Adam Soria's paintings. Outside, she started walking toward her car, the chatter and laughter from the gallery following her all the way down the block. The only person who did not seem boisterously happy in that gallery had been the artist himself.

  By the time she got home, Cody was asleep in his car seat. There were lights burning in the other upstairs apartment, and a blue sedan she had never seen before was parked at the curb.

  She walked up the stairs with Cody in tow and listened for a moment before opening her apartment door. There were no sounds coming from inside the other apartment, but the air in the landing felt different somehow, heavy with the presence of the new tenant, yet another stranger to whom she would have to explain her existence.

  –13–

  She took Cody to the park around eleven the following morning, hoping to miss Roxanne and her pistol-packing son. Sure enough, she and Cody had the playground to themselves. She pushed him on the swing for awhile, then walked with him over to the city dock, where they sat on a bench by the water and shared the bagged lunch she'd brought along.

  She was walking home, pushing the stroller past a row of shops, when Adam Soria suddenly stepped out of the small pharmacy on the corner.

  "Hey," he said, his smile of recognition slow. "Hello, again."

  "Hi." She stopped walking and shaded her eyes to look at him. "That was fun last night."

  He made a sound in his throat as if he were not quite certain he agreed with her, and he looked as if he were about to say something else when Jessie walked out of the pharmacy and came to stand next to him.

  "Hello." Jessie smiled and stooped down to greet Cody. "Hello again, little guy. Did you like that dolphin last night? Pretty nifty, huh?"

  "Mamama." Cody giggled and held his monkey out to Jessie.

  "He doesn't offer his monkey to just anyone," Kim said.

  Jessie looked up at her. "Out on one of your walks?"

  "Yes. I'll fit them in while I can. I hope I'll get some work soon, and then I won't have time to walk."

  "Word processing, right?" Jessie stood up.

  "Right. You have a good memory."

  Cody let out a long yawn.

  "You tired, Cody?" Jessie asked him. "Did your mom keep you up too late last night?"

  "I think I did," Kim said honestly. "Plus, we've had a long morning and it's past nap time. We'd better get home."

  "All right," Jessie said. She waved at Cody, raising her voice an octave, "Bye, bye, Cody. Bye bye."

  "Nice seeing you again," Adam said. He and Jessie turned and began walking up the street, while Kim hung back to zip Cody's jacket. When she started walking again, she noticed that Jessie and Adam had stopped. They were talking, glancing over their shoulders at her. Suddenly, Adam left his sister's side to walk back to her.

  "Since you're new in town," he said, "would you and Cody like to join us for dinner tonight?"

  Surprised, she couldn't answer right away. The two of them perplexed her. They seemed to be free spirits who could spend the day flitting around town. Well, she was a fine one to talk. But Adam and Jessie were obviously well-established in Annapolis. They possessed a gallery full of friends. Why were they being so nice to her? She wanted to say yes, her hunger for company at war with her better judgment. What had happened to her plan to keep to herself?

  "No," she said. "I—"

  "Come on," Adam coaxed. "What else do you have to do tonight?"

  She smiled, thinking of her little apartment and the entertainment it offered: the computer, the TV, and her sketchbook. "Not much," she admitted.

  "All ri
ght, then." He gave her the name and address of a restaurant and she agreed to meet them there at seven-thirty.

  She watched them walk away from her. Jessie looked back and waved as they turned the corner, and Kim returned the gesture. "We've got friends, Cody," she said to her son. "Don't quite know how it happened, but we've got them."

  She had finished dressing Cody to go out that night when a knock came at her apartment door. The sound was so unfamiliar that she jumped. She put Cody into the small playpen in the middle of the living room and opened the door to find an attractive, gray-haired woman on the landing. She was dressed in a denim jumper, and she looked as though she might be a well-preserved sixty or so, half working woman, half cookie-baking grandmother.

  "Hello," the woman boomed in a voice that held no timidity. She stuck out her hand. "I'm your new neighbor. Lucy O'Connor. "

  Kim shook her hand. "Kim Stratton," she said.

  Lucy peered around Kim into the room. "Oh, there's the little one Ellen told me about." She marched into the apartment and over to the playpen. "Look at you!" she said to the little boy. Then to Kim, "May I take him out?"

  Kim nodded. Lucy lifted Cody out of the playpen and got down on the floor with him. She took one of his toy trucks out of the playpen and began scooting it across the floor.

  "Duk, duk!" Cody squealed. He was entranced with Lucy, as he was with everyone, and Kim watched the scene with a brand new seed of paranoia growing in her head. If Jim were really smart, he could do no better than to hire a grandmotherly private investigator to move in next door to her.

  "He reminds me of my little grandson," Lucy said. "Who I haven't seen in months, unfortunately."

  Cody pulled himself up by her shoulder and dropped his little body onto her lap. "Oh, is he ever lovable! And he has your eyes, doesn't he?" She looked up at Kim.

  "Yes, I guess so."

  "Such an unusual, pretty light blue." She ran the truck up Cody's leg, speaking to Kim without looking up. "Ellen told me you're newly divorced. Must be terrible with such a little one."

  Kim nodded. "It's hard, but I think we're better off without him than we were with him," she said.

  "Oh, one of those sorts. He helps out with child support, I hope."

  Kim hesitated. What was the best answer? She couldn't think through all the ramifications quickly enough. She'd told Ellen she received child support. "A little," she said.

  "It's never enough, is it? Does he live nearby? Does Cody get to see his papa ever?"

  Kim was anxious for a change of topic. "Not too often." She made a show of looking at her watch. "I hate to tear him away from you, Lucy, but we have to meet some people for dinner."

  "How lovely for you." With some effort, Lucy was back on her feet again. She returned Cody to the playpen. "Actually," she said, dusting off the back of her jumper, "I came over to see if you might have an extension cord I could borrow."

  "Oh, I'm sorry, I don't. I just moved in myself—not quite two weeks ago—and I haven't had the need for one. Maybe Ellen?"

  "Maybe." Lucy walked toward the door. "I'll check with her. She's something, isn't she? She probably has a scented extension cord that chants when you plug it in."

  Kim had to laugh. "I wouldn't be surprised." She followed the older woman to the door.

  "Ellen said you work at home?" Lucy asked.

  "I plan to. I'm hoping to take in word processing jobs."

  "Well, that will be wonderful. I work at home too, so maybe we can take a coffee break together every once in a while."

  "Sure," Kim said, but she didn't know about that. Lucy seemed a bit too intrusive. Overbearing.

  "And if you ever need someone to watch Cody, you just let me know, okay?"

  Kim nodded with a smile, but once she'd closed her door on her new neighbor, she shook her head. "Don't hold your breath," she said.

  The restaurant was a small, Italian eatery, and Kim was relieved to discover the relaxed atmosphere. She'd been worried about taking Cody into someplace fancier. He was usually well behaved, but in case this turned out to be one of his rare cranky evenings, she didn't want to embarrass her new friends.

  She spotted Adam and Jessie already sitting across from one another at a table near the middle of the restaurant. They were involved in an animated, perhaps even angry, discussion. Adam had his back to the door, but Jessie spotted her and waved, a smile instantly replacing the frown on her face.

  Kim collapsed Cody's stroller and left it by the coat rack, then walked toward the table. She sat down next to Jessie, and the waitress brought a high chair to the end of the table so Kim would have easy access to her son.

  "Did you walk here?" Adam asked.

  "Yes. I do own a car, in case you're wondering, but I don't live that far."

  "There's no place to park around here, anyway," Adam said. "Where do you live?"

  "On Maryland Street. I'm renting one of the upstairs apartments in a big house near the Naval Academy."

  "I bet I know the house," Jessie said. "There's been a for rent sign out front of it for a few weeks. Isn't the woman who owns it a massage therapist?"

  "Right. Ellen King."

  "Is that who Cherise goes to?" Adam asked his sister.

  "Yes."

  "Ah." Kim smiled. "That's got to be the connection, then. I didn't understand why I got an invitation to your show last night. I mean, I don't know anyone in Annapolis except Ellen. But if Ellen knows Cherise, then I bet she asked Cherise to invite me."

  "That's probably it," Jessie said.

  Kim unwrapped a breadstick and handed it to Cody. "Cherise seems really nice."

  "She's a character," Adam said. "One of those people who never met a stranger. She has an eye for art, though, and she's really been my champion. Always after me to get back to painting again."

  "Do you think you ever will?" she ventured.

  He shrugged. "All depends on my dreams. I've never been able to have much control over them."

  "They'll come back, Adam," Jessie said reassuringly.

  He looked directly at Kim. "What happened six months ago was that my wife and two children were killed in a car accident."

  "Oh, no." She was stunned he would reveal something that personal so quickly, so openly, and she felt a painful rush of sympathy for him. She had been through some tragedies in her life, but nothing she'd endured could compare to that sort of loss. "I'm terribly sorry," she said. "I can't even imagine …" Her voice trailed off. She did not know what else to say.

  Jessie reached across the table and squeezed her brother's hand. "Don't talk about it, Adam," she said. "Not here."

  "I wasn't planning on it."

  "I'm so sorry." Kim felt guilty for bringing up something that was not her business.

  "I just wanted to tell you what happened so you'd understand why I was monopolizing you last night," Adam said. "I wanted to apologize. I didn't give you a chance to meet anyone else."

  "It certainly didn't bother me at all." She'd spent a good part of the evening talking with the star of the show and he was apologizing to her?

  "I used you," he said. "There were so many people there who know my background. They know about the accident and that I'm not working any more. I really had no desire to talk to them and answer their questions and listen to them try to persuade me to get back to work. I welcomed the opportunity to talk to someone who didn't know a thing about me."

  So that was it. "Glad I could serve some purpose," she said with a smile. She guessed that this dinner out was meant as some sort of payback.

  "You did," Jessie said, and there were tears in her eyes. "We were both dreading last night. We've discovered that we can't talk too easily about what happened when we're in a public place. We tend to fall apart a lot."

  "Of course you do," Kim said.

  "About the same time as the accident," Jessie continued, "I split up with the man I'd been living with for five years. And I was going to school, but all of a sudden, I couldn't concentrate. So I drop
ped out. Just for a year I hope. I was working on my master's degree in engineering."

  "Wow," Kim said, impressed.

  "So Adam and I are both trying to put the pieces back together."

  Kim felt overwhelmed by their openness and frightened by her desire to be open in return. "Well, it's great that you have each other," she said.

  The waitress appeared at their table and took their orders. Kim ordered pasta to share with Cody.

  "So let's switch the topic to you," Jessie said when the waitress walked away. "Tell us your life story."

  Kim laughed, and she hoped that neither of them picked up the nervousness in the sound. "I don't want to put you to sleep," she said. She'd been on the run less than three weeks, and already she was longing to spill her guts to the first people who'd befriended her. She was used to relationships based on honesty. She felt guilty about offering them anything less than that.

  "Well," she began, "I was born and raised in Los Angeles." Nice, big, anonymous city. She had been born in Boulder. Never lived anyplace else, either. "I loved art, growing up. All through school, art was the only class I could get decent grades in. I was planning to major in art when I started college, but then I met my husband and I dropped out to put him through school." No harm in being honest about that part, she thought. Nobody was going to be looking for her based on the fact that she had once hoped to major in art. Jim probably wouldn't think to mention that fact in his description of her.

  "Ouch," Jessie said.

  "Worse than ouch," Kim said. "Once he was done with college, he decided he wanted to go to medical school." She'd make him a doctor--the arrogant, egocentric sort. "So I kept working to put him through medical school."

  "What kind of work were you doing?" Adam asked.

  She'd told Ellen she'd worked in a bank, but she wouldn't make that mistake again. "Receptionist," she said. "For some nondescript business in L.A."

  "So what happened after he got out of medical school?" Jessie asked.

  "He met someone better educated than me."

  Adam sat back in his seat and laughed. "Oh, man. I bet you wanted to kill him."