Along for the Ride (8 page)
‘What did Megan say when you found out it was the wrong bike? Was she mad? She didn’t try to arrest you, did she? Did she think you were trying to steal it?’ Kat sighed heavily, only to yell over her shoulder, ‘Hey, bug man! Get dressed, I need you.’
Ryan grimaced. He didn’t need to know Kat’s husband was naked in the back room.
‘I’m a step ahead of you,’ Vincent said.
Ryan heard the man’s voice before he actually saw the doctor. Though clearly rich by his carriage and clothes, there was an easygoing, almost absentmindedness to the entomologist. Vincent had been born into money and retained the enunciated speech pattern and stiff posture to prove it. But his brown eyes didn’t hold judgement and he always had a ready smile.
As he neared, Vincent looked at his wife, unashamed by the adoration on his face. ‘Have I told you I worship you, Margaret?’
Kat laughed, leaning up to kiss her husband briefly. ‘You’re lucky I like you, bug man. I look nothing like the dowdy Margaret.’ Then, pushing her hand to his cheek, she turned Vincent’s head towards Ryan.
Instantly, the man gasped. ‘Megan hit you? When Kat told me what you two had instigated, I knew Megan would be upset, but –’
‘No, no, she didn’t do that,’ Kat said. ‘But I’m surprised she didn’t.’
‘Hey,’ Ryan grumbled.
‘What? You’re the one chasing after her,’ Kat defended. ‘You had to assume there would be a few bumps and bruises along the way. It is Megan after all.’
‘And handcuffs,’ Vincent said almost thoughtfully.
Ryan stiffened in surprise. He looked at Kat to see if the good doctor was joking or not.
Kat looked momentarily stunned, but quickly got over it. Laughing, she said, ‘Darling, I had no idea you were so kinky.’
‘What?’ Vincent blinked. Then, as if catching on, he said, ‘No, I meant she would arrest Ryan for – hey, wait. Yes, you do know that I’m . . .’ He paused, giving Ryan a sheepish grin. ‘Never mind. We’ll discuss it later.’
‘Thanks.’ Ryan chuckled, gladly taking the man’s dismissal. Normally, he wouldn’t care if the couple made jokes about a kinky sex life. If they were getting it on, more power to them. He wished them all the happiness and pleasure in the world. But the last thing he wanted under the current weight of his situation was to think about anything related to sex. After his deed with Megan in the dank alleyway the night before, he wasn’t sure whether to be turned on by the memory or mortified by the fact that their first time together was so sordid.
‘I believe you said I was needed?’ Vincent prompted.
‘Tell Ryan what he can do to win Megan,’ Kat said. ‘Give him some man advice.’
‘Ah.’ Vincent curled his lip in disbelief. ‘Do you remember how suave I was with you?’
‘Oh, yeah, good point.’ Kat patted Vincent’s arm, before telling Ryan, ‘Don’t have her look for poisonous spiders with you. That does
not
make for a sexy first date.’
not
make for a sexy first date.’
Ryan arched a questioning brow.
‘Don’t ask,’ Vincent said. ‘She won’t let me forget it as it is.’
‘Oh, but I do have promising news.’ Kat grinned. ‘Mom called early this morning. She was up late last night and booked our trip. Before you protest, I told her you’d insist on paying her back for the ticket.’
‘Thanks,’ Ryan answered earnestly. Kat knew him well; he wouldn’t want to freeload off her family.
‘Though, I did give in and say she could pay for the lodging. I figured, since she was paying for all her kids as it was, there was no point in making you pick up an eighth of the bill just for pride’s sake. And I got the sisters on our side. They are happy to help bring Megan down.’ Kat laughed.
Ryan sighed.
‘Oh, don’t look at me like that. You know what I mean. Anyway, Sasha’s free, so she will go with us right away. Zoe will meet us in a week. That’s when she can get off work. It’s all set. The parents love you. My sisters and I won’t let Megs run you off. Vincent is there for moral support, aren’t you, honey?’
‘Whatever you say, dear,’ Vincent answered, even as he gave Ryan an understanding smile.
‘So get packed,’ Kat said, ‘because we are going to Montana.’
‘Montana?’ Megan questioned, scratching the back of her head. Her mother stood in the doorway to her small apartment. It was early afternoon, but Megan hadn’t bothered to change out of her charcoal-coloured cotton pyjama pants and grey T-shirt with ‘NYPD’ across the chest. She stepped out of the way and shut the door behind Beatrice as her mother walked into her home. ‘However did you come up with Montana?’
‘You’ll love it.’ Beatrice grinned happily, as she dug into her oversized red leather handbag. It was more of a small suitcase than a purse, with a zipper along the bottom edge that opened to expand the amount it could carry. At Megan’s coffee table, she began unloading the contents, taking out everything from a mini-first-aid kit and tissues to makeup and a small photo album of family pictures. ‘I printed some information for you to look over.’
Megan flopped down on her couch. Her apartment reminded her of an unseductive bachelor pad. It was the kind of place poor male college students coveted, minus the keg and single co-eds. The cheap black pleather of her couch stuck to the back of her thighs whenever she was sweaty from working out. It matched her overstuffed chair. Posters of 1990 cop movies lined the walls, held in place with thumbtacks. She’d only put them up to cover the yellowed paint. When she first moved in, she had a vague plan to renovate. It never came to fruition. The fact the tacky décor annoyed her mother was just a bonus. Beatrice offered to decorate it for her almost every time she came over.
‘Where did I put them?’ Beatrice mumbled, drawing Megan’s attention back to the gigantic purse. ‘Ah, here they are. Look.’
Megan didn’t move as her mother shook a stack of papers in her direction. Beatrice wasn’t fazed by her daughter’s unenthusiastic response, immediately moving to sit beside Megan, as she flipped through the pile.
‘There is horseback riding –’
‘Do I look like I’ve ever been on a horse?’ Megan drawled.
‘I think you’d like it.’ Beatrice placed a picture on Megan’s lap. It was of a woman and two kids on horseback. ‘You carry a gun and so do cowboys.’
‘There is that.’ Sarcasm dripped from her words.
‘We can rock climb, ride bikes through the mountains, hike, raft –’
‘Get lime disease from the ticks,’ Megan chipped in. ‘Get buried by an avalanche.’
Her words were a lot nicer than some of the scenarios her cop brain came up with. Seclusion, wilderness, people who lived isolated in the mountains – they were a recipe for crime and militias.
‘Don’t be silly.’ Beatrice laughed, though the sound was strained. ‘It is summertime and we’ll have Vincent with us. If anyone knows how to avoid bugs, it’s him. Besides, you will be busy with Ryan.’
‘Yeah, Mom, about that . . .’ Megan refused to think about screwing Ryan in the alleyway the night before. She’d spent all morning trying to push the memory from her brain. ‘I have to tell you something about the engagement.’
‘Oh, honey, I already know what you are going to say,’ Beatrice said.
‘What? The tea leaves?’ Megan asked in surprise.
‘No, it’s the mother in me. I know you’re feeling guilty about not telling us you were seeing someone, and for probably ditching us on Sunday dinners to go out with your man, but don’t worry. Daddy and I are happy for you. Actually, I didn’t want to say anything because I know you were busy, but your father hasn’t been feeling very well lately and this news has done wonders for him. He is so looking forward to this trip. I think he’s happy to finally have sons to go on vacation with. This trip is the perfect medicine – family all together and happy, seeing two of our precious daughters happily settled.’ Beatrice gave a contented sigh, placing her hand over her heart as she gazed meaningfully at her daughter.
Megan swallowed. Her father was sick? OK, no guilt there. Even if her mother did have a tendency to blow certain things out of proportion – like health issues. It wasn’t a far stretch for Beatrice to turn a simple cold into the Ebola virus.
Beatrice suddenly looked at her watch. ‘Oh, I have to go pick up our tickets at the travel agent. You keep these –’ she handed over the printed brochures ‘– and be ready to leave at four tomorrow morning. We’ll meet at our house and all go to the airport together.’
‘Four?’
‘We have to get there early. You will be a dear and tell Ryan, won’t you?’ Beatrice asked. ‘I forgot to get his phone number last night when I talked to Kat about the travel plans.’
‘Um.’ Megan frowned; she didn’t have Ryan’s number. She didn’t even know where the man lived. Maybe that was a good thing. She didn’t want him along, did she? Her body twinged with a curious sensation. Longing? Disgust? Passion? Disdain? She couldn’t be sure.
‘Bye, honey,’ Beatrice said. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Bye.’
Megan waited until the door closed before pushing the horseback-riding picture off her lap. Trust her mother to plan a vacation in one day. Frowning, Megan took the first page off the stack her mother had left. The print-out date in the corner was over a year old. Her mother probably had a huge file of possible vacations. ‘Came up with it last night, huh?’
Megan shook her head and stood up. She crossed through the small living room to her bedroom, containing a queen-size bed with silver railing next to an empty nightstand. She grabbed a giant duffel bag out of the closet. A few T-shirts, hooded sweatshirt, jeans, pyjama pants and shorts was all she needed for the trip. Well, those and toiletries. She wasn’t one to fret about packing and was done in less than ten minutes. She carried the bag to her living room but hesitated as she set it by the door. The strangest urge to pack something pretty came over her.
‘Well, Mom does like to eat at nice restaurants,’ Megan said to herself, refusing to admit it wasn’t her mother she was thinking to impress. ‘I might as well bring one dress with me. Just in case.’
‘I need you to call your friend and tell him about tonight,’ Megan announced without preamble as she walked past her sister into Kat’s Upper East Side home. The penthouse was a vast contrast to where Megan lived. When people said Kat had married into money, they weren’t exaggerating. Located on Seventy-Eighth Street, the beautiful pre-war building was lined with shrubs and trees. The home had more space than any two people could ever need, but Kat was doing her best to artfully decorate it with her photographs.
The living room was immaculately clean from the pristine white walls to the polished wood floors – something Megan knew Kat hadn’t done. Vincent probably hired a housekeeper. The man doted on her sister, which was fine with Megan. He
should
dote on Kat. If he didn’t, she’d beat the crap out of him. Kat might drive her to insanity, but Megan still adored her.
should
dote on Kat. If he didn’t, she’d beat the crap out of him. Kat might drive her to insanity, but Megan still adored her.
The living room was nearly thirty feet long and eighteen feet wide, with towering ceilings. Large casement windows looked southwards over the city. Floor-to-ceiling dark curtains accented the minimalist furniture. A wood-burning fireplace dominated one wall, centred between two built-in bookcases.
An oversized canvas filled one of the walls. Megan knew the work well. It was filled with pictures Kat had taken of the sisters throughout their lives. The younger years started in the middle and spiralled out as they grew. It was a testament to their lives, a work in progress. The newest addition was all of them at Kat’s wedding – the bride in sexy white and the sisters in distinctly different dark-blue gowns.
Turning her attention back to Kat, Megan insisted, ‘I need you to call your friend. Mom doesn’t have his number and supposedly Dad’s sick and is looking forward to having two men along on vacation.’ Megan took a deep loud breath. ‘Or something like that. Mom said it better. All I know is, I don’t have a choice. So you have to call your friend.’
‘Don’t you mean your fiancé?’ Kat giggled.
‘I was drunk last night, Kat, but I’m sober this morning. I know you have an idea of what is going on here, if not the full picture. I can read it on your face.’ Megan put her hands on her hips. ‘I also know you get some sort of twisted sisterly pleasure out of seeing me squirm. Fine. Whatever. But don’t pretend like you are innocent. I’m a cop and I eat pretenders for breakfast.’
‘Ew. That doesn’t sound very appetising.’ Kat’s disturbingly angelic expression stayed intact. Maybe that was why Megan was so good at reading people – she’d learnt to tell when her sisters were trying to pull one over on her.
‘I know Mom told you the plans. Call your friend.’ Megan glanced around. ‘Tell him the plans.’
‘What? You drove all the way here to tell me to make a call? Why not use the phone?’
‘I . . .’ Megan hesitated. ‘I did call. You didn’t answer.’
Kat reached into her pocket and pulled out her new pink cellular phone. She flipped it open. ‘Funny, I don’t see a missed call. Try another one, Megs.’
‘Fine. I need a dress.’ Megan knew she’d been caught in the lie, so she started another one. ‘Mom wants me to bring one, but it seems the last one I bought went out of style when I was still in High School, unless you want me to wear my bridesmaid gown again.’ She glanced at the large canvas only to see all five Matthews sisters’ faces smiling back at her.
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