A touch of love (31 page)

"That's a splendid idea," Aubrey responded, but she couldn't use such a transparent excuse to see Jesse again.

Gardner leaned forward slightly. "I was there with about five thousand other visitors in 1987, for the Harmonic Convergence. I didn't feel anything, either. I did talk to people who swore their hands and feet got hot near a vortex, but I was hoping for something a little more, well—"

Shelley waited, but when Gardner couldn't seem to find the word he was seeking, she supplied one. "Spiritual?"

"Yes. Exactly. It's a great place to go camping, but I'd still hoped for a tingle or two, but didn't feel them."

"Maybe you were with the wrong person/' Trisha teased. "Do you like to camp out, Shelley?''

Shelley shrugged slightly. "I've never gone camping. Well, I did have slumber parties in the backyard a couple of times when I was a kid, but that doesn't really count, does it?"

"Sure it does," Trisha replied.

"No, it doesn't," Gardner argued. "The whole point of camping out is to get away from home and experience nature. You can't do that if you can run back inside the house every time you want a drink of water."

"Camping costs a lot of money though, doesn't it?" Shelley asked. "Don't you need a tent, sleeping bags, and cooking equipment?"

"Well sure, but I have all that," Gardner stressed proudly.

Aubrey saw Trisha open her mouth to offer a comment and elbowed her in the ribs to keep her quiet in hopes Shelley and Gardner would continue the conversation on their own. Trisha caught on, kept still, and it worked. Gardner explained how he kept his camping gear all packed and ready to go in an instant, and how much fun camping was, and then invited Shelley and her daughter to come with him sometime soon.

"Isn't Annie too young?" Shelley asked.

"No. She's the perfect age. Litde kids love it, and they get so worn out you don't have to worry about putting them to bed. They just fall asleep as soon as it gets dark."

"Really? It does sound like fun. I didn't realize that you liked children."

Gardner nearly choked on a mouthful of lettuce, but quickly took a drink of water. "Sure I do. I was a kid once," he offered as proof.

The conversation flowed easily, but Aubrey missed Jesse so badly she could almost sense his presence. Her charm

bracelet was a constant reminder of him, just as she had known it would be, and she doubted she would ever want to remove it.

No one could finish their entire meal, and when the waitress suggested the fabulous chocolate cake for dessert, they all groaned. Trisha was the first to ask to be excused to get ready for her date, and Aubrey stood to allow her to slip out of the booth. "This was fun," she declared. "Let's do this again soon."

"Next time you'll have to let us treat you," Trisha suggested.

"Absolutely not," Aubrey countered. "The boss pays for all company parties." She hadn't slept well, and had to hurriedly cover a yawn. "I'm sorry, but this has been a long day. I hate to rush you two, though. Why don't you stay and have coffee? Could you give Shelley a ride home, Gardner?"

A flash of panic filled Gardner's expression, but he quickly adjusted his glasses and forced a smile. "Sure. That's no problem."

Had Aubrey been curious about how often Gardner dated, she would just have had her answer; the poor guy didn't date at all. "We've nothing scheduled for next week, so I'll see you two again next Saturday." Shelley and Gardner thanked her again for the bracelet and tie tack, then Aubrey and Trisha walked out together.

As Aubrey paid the check, she looked longingly at the blueberry muffins on display in the bakery case. "Don't those look good?" she asked.

Trisha, however, was eyeing the chocolate cake. "Please. I want to walk out of here without carrying a bag of extra calories to consume tomorrow. Not that I'll feel like eating any time soon. Still, maybe I ought to buy a piece of cake for Eric to have later."

"I'll bet he'd enjoy that." Aubrey quickly added the

piece of cake and four muffins to her bill. She had purchased the muffins purely on a whim, but knew four was precisely the right number.

When she arrived home, she checked her answering machine, but there were no messages. She had hoped Jesse might have left one waiting for her when she got home yesterday, but had been disappointed then, too. Appar-endy he was confident she had made it home safely, or simply didn't care.

She had neglected her journal, forgetting to take it with her to Sedona, so catching up occupied her until bedtime. She was tired, but again had difficulty sleeping. The Indian brave hadn't visited her dreams again, but she continued to worry that his message, while vital, still eluded her.

She ate one of the plump muffins for Sunday breakfast, spent most of the morning perusing the Sunday Times, then worked in her yard. She thought about going to a movie that evening, but feared the romantic comedies playing in the local theaters would prompt tears rather than laughter. There was fan mail to read, but she couldn't seem to find the proper upbeat attitude required to answer, and so lay it aside.

Watching Jesse walk away at Sky Harbor had been heartbreaking, but she had not realized she would feel even worse once she got home. She checked her calendar, hoping for a luncheon date she had forgotten, but the days of the coming week were all blank. 'There's always the Australian trip to plan," she murmured to herself. Guinevere perked up her ears, then went back to sleep when she realized Aubrey wasn't speaking to her.

Until now, Aubrey simply had not realized how focused she had been on her work. There was so much more to learn—new resources to explore and seminar topics to expand. The problem was, her heart just wasn't in it. A long vacation would occupy several weeks, if not months,

and she could easily afford it. She wasn't fool enough to believe she would feel any different while she was away, however, or come home with the new scars on her heart healed.

It would take time to get over Jesse, but when time was all she had, it wasn't going to be easy. Creative imagery proved useless while bright visions of Jesse's smile filled her mind. She ached clear to her soul, and yet could think of no other way their relationship could have ended. Tears came often, but provided little solace, and she spent most of Monday sitting out by the pool, remembering other days when the water had sparkled with promise, rather than reflected tears.

Late Monday afternoon, Larry Stafford strode through Aubrey's back gate then slammed it shut with a loud clang. She had been napping on a chaise by the pool, and he shouted to her as he crossed the patio. "All hell's broken loose, and we've got to get you out of here."

Guinevere recognized Larry, gave an excited yelp, and began jumping up on his pantlegs to greet him. Never having cared for the shaggy litde dog, the attorney stopped just short of kicking her out of his way. He leaned down to give her a fainthearted pat, then brushed her aside.

Aubrey yawned lazily as she sat up ? "What are you talking about?" she asked. Uncomfortable around Larry in a revealing bikini, she reached for her pink T-shirt and pulled it over her head.

"I've friends in the DA's office, and naturally asked them to keep tabs on Gilroy because you were involved in the case. The man's no dummy. He demanded immunity not simply for taking a shot at you, but also against prosecution in the Ferrell case in exchange for providing testimony against Harlan Caine."

Aubrey swung her legs off the chaise. "And something's gone wrong?"

'Til say. Apparently once Gilroy began talking, the DA had second thoughts and tried to renege on their deal. Gilroy's attorney promptly informed a judge, and the judge agreed the immunity promise had been improperly revoked. Gilroy was out on bail, and now he's disappeared. I assume you're smart enough to know what that means."

Although his condescending tone was nothing new, Aubrey found it especially grating that day. She pushed herself to her feet. "You're the one with the legal expertise, Larry, not me. Is there any way to tie Caine to the crime without Gilroy's testimony?"

Larry shook his head. "There's never been a shred of evidence against the man, but now that he knows Gilroy rolled over on him, he's sure to go after Gilroy. I think there's also a damn good chance he'll come after you. That's why I want you to come with me now. Just pack a couple of changes of clothing, and we'll buy whatever else you need once we reach Hawaii."

"Hawaii?" Aubrey responded in a shocked gasp. She had once been naive enough to suggest a vacation there would be wonderfully romantic, but Larry had been too busy to get away. Now she knew just what he had been busy doing, and with whom. His charcoal-gray suit fit him as superbly 21s gift wrapping, but there was a worthless package underneath.

"I don't believe that's a good idea," she argued. "Getting out of town for a while might be wise, but no, thank you, not with you."

"You've someone else in mind? Where's the cowboy? I didn't see his truck."

"He's in Sedona, not that it's any business of yours."

Larry reached out to take hold of her arms. "I've no time to play games," he scolded. "I believe you're in terri-

ble danger. If you'll recall, I'm not the one who wanted the divorce. I still care about you, Aubrey, and maybe if we went away together now, we could not only save your life, but resurrect our marriage, as well."

4< Resurrect is an interesting term, especially when you're the one who buried your wedding vows beneath a ton of lies." Aubrey couldn't bear to hear another word and broke free of his grasp. "I appreciate your warning me about Gilroy before I saw on it the evening news, but I can take care of myself just fine now."

"The man just missed killing you when he fired on you on the freeway!"

"Well, they say lightning never strikes twice in the same spot"

"This is the worst mistake of your life," Larry warned darkly.

Aubrey began to laugh for the first time in days. "Not even close. My worst mistake was marrying you." For a brief instant, a fiery rage flickered in his eyes and she thought he might actually strike her, but she didn't flinch. When he walked off, she heard him muttering an extremely uncomplimentary phrase, but no longer cared what he called her.

She did take his warning seriously, however, and brought both Lucifer and Guinevere inside the house. Her first thought was to call Jesse, and relying on her instincts to make the right choice, she quickly dialed his number. She expected Lupe to answer the phone if not Jesse, but it was Dory Pruitt's high-pitched whisper she heard.

She almost slammed down the receiver, then fought for control of her temper and won. "Hello, Dory. This is Aubrey Glenn. May I please speak with Jesse?" She heard an exchange of muffled whispers and wondered if Dory had simply reached over to pick up the extension beside

the bed. When Jesse at last gave a startled hello, she had a ready response.

"Any port in a storm?''

"No!" Jesse cried. "It isn't like that here at all. Dory's mother was too embarrassed to come meet you in person, but she sent Dory over hoping to get your address so that she could write you a fan letter."

"That's inventive, but you needn't make excuses. I just called to let you know there's been a gigantic snag in the case." She quickly repeated what Larry had told her. "I may have to go away for a while."

"I'm leaving now. Just sit tight until I get there."

Just hearing Jesse's voice had created an almost unbearable longing, and Aubrey was almost afraid of what seeing him again would do. "I'm not your responsibility, Jesse," she countered softly.

"The hell you're not! I'll be there before midnight."

The line went dead before Aubrey could refuse to wait. She hung up, then began to shake. It wasn't the danger Harlan Caine posed that frightened her. It was the sure knowledge she would never be able to walk away from Jesse a second time. Rationalizations about the differences in their lifestyles still made perfect sense, but failed to soothe her aching heart.

news, but there was no mention of the botched immunity deal with John Gilroy. Suddenly suspicious of her ex-husband's motives, she placed a call to the Devonshire Division, but Detectives Heffley and Kobin had already left for the day and she hesitated to discuss the complexities of the case with anyone else. The possibility Larry might simply have played a malicious trick on her added to her worries, and she wished she had had the presence of mind to demand proof of his story while he had been there.

For a long while she paced the dark house, then returned to the den and attempted to follow the intricate plot of a classic Bogart film on cable. Rather than providing a welcome distraction, however, the dark melodrama only intensified her fears. She knew this was the perfect opportunity to practice some of her most effective stress reduction techniques, but considered it foolhardy when her life might depend on her ability to remain alert.

She wondered if she ought to pack the essentials for a quick trip out of town, but dared not go upstairs where she might miss the warning noises of a ground floor break-in. No matter what she did, she feared she would be making a mistake, and finally ended up seated at the bottom of the stairs hugging her knees. Happy not to have been shut on the service porch, Guinevere and Lucifer kept her company but offered little in the way of protection.

The dark visions she had experienced with Jesse had been terrifying, but beckoned now as taunting evidence of a power she had no desire to possess, but surely did. With the law unable to touch Harlan Caine, how could she refuse to draw on the only resources which might tie him to the crime? she agonized. It was a wretched choice and not one she would make willing, but a fervent desire to seek justice for the Ferrells, and peace for herself, made it imperative. She dozed off more than once, but awakened

the instant Jesse's Chevy rolled up her driveway with a low, throbbing rumble.

Jesse's hand was already on the knob as she unlocked the door, and he quickly yanked it open. He passed beneath the porch light as he entered, but his face was shadowed by his hat, veiling his mood. Aubrey had pulled on a pair of Levi's, but still wore her bikini and pink T-shirt. She had not even combed her hair, let alone applied makeup, and fearing she must look far from her best, she took a hesitant step backwards rather than leap into his arms.