No Perfect Secret (23 page)

Caburn grinned. “If I could make one request?”

“Of, course.”

“Is it possible to book bulkhead seats? I’m uncomfortable flying with my knees up around my chin.”

Mr
Charles rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Haven’t you heard a thing I’ve said? You’re going first class all the way, Mr Caburn. I won’t have that poor woman thinking the State Department considers her a second-class citizen.”

It dawned on Caburn that
the poor woman
had not been approached concerning a trip sponsored by State. Suppose she declined? Suppose she had made other plans? Suppose she didn’t want to leave the States during Christmas? Suppose her passport was out of date? Suppose she was like his sisters? As soon as plans were laid for a night out or a vacation, the first words out of their mouths was: “I can’t go. I don’t have a thing to wear!” Suppose Anna accused him of having ulterior motives? Did he have an ulterior motive? Yes, he did. And, no, he didn’t. He had ulterior
hope
.

He thanked
Mr Charles profusely while his anxiety level rose at a chaotic rate.

“
Mr Caburn,” the travel master called, stopping Caburn in the door frame. “What is the capital of Czechoslovakia?”

What?
“Well, it’s no longer Czechoslovakia, Mr Charles. It’s the Czech Republic. The capital is Prague.”

“If you weary of working in the basement with all those feral cats, rats, and the boiler honking away, do think about a job as my assistant. I need a smart, well-mannered man who knows his geography. I had an intern last year. Told him to book a courier to Panama City. He sent him to Panama City,
Florida.
We do not have an embassy in Panama City, Florida. Nor a consulate. That was the only Panama City he knew; used to go there on spring breaks. I asked him, ‘do the Brits have a fourth of July?’ He said, no. So, I asked him, ‘what do they do? Strike it off the calendar?’”

“If Albert ever cuts me loose,
Mr Charles, I’ll come talk to you.”

“Please do. The perks are fabulous. Oh, don’t forget, pick up your travel packets on Thursday. No later than two in the afternoon.”

“I won’t forget, sir.”

~~~~

Caburn sat in his car, motor running, waiting for it to warm up. He put his hands on the steering wheel and discovered they were trembling. He had Anna on the brain. And now he had stepped in it. He reasoned that if she went to Cancun with him he was certain there would be no turning back—at least not for him. So what did that mean? Stupid question. He knew what it meant. There were positives and negatives. His mom would be happy, his sisters would circle like the Comanche, his sisters-in-law would shoot poisoned darts. His brothers would be devastated—no more poker nights or man-cave parties in the barn—until they got a look at Anna, then they’d be snide and jealous. Yeah. Maybe he’d better call the poor woman, make certain she was still on for dinner tonight.

~~~~

“It’s me,” he said when she answered the phone.

“I know. I can still hear a bit
of a Kansas twang in your voice. It reminds me of home.” Which she no longer had back in Kansas, she thought sadly. D.C. was her home now. “You have a good telephone voice.”

“I do?” Could she tell he was smiling?

“Yes. It’s a bit gravely and—”

“And what?”

“Sexy.”

He felt warm all over. “That’s good, or is it?”

She was quiet for a moment. Then: “Why did you call?”

“I have good news. I’ve got the paperwork you need for the bank. I’ll bring it when I pick you up for dinner. Is seven okay? I’ve got to go home, shower, shave, stuff like that.”

“Your shaving kit is here.”

“I have more than one razor.”

“Yes, of course you do.”

“So. What are you doing now?”

“I’m in the dining room, wrapping presents.”

“You stayed out of the bedroom?”

“Not exactly. Clarence and JoJo came over to say hello when they brought Lila home. They’re here now, packing Kevin’s things to take to the shelter.”

Alarms sounded.
“That’s great. Better than great. Could I speak to JoJo for a second?”

When the girl came on, Caburn told her to check all of Nesmith’s pockets.

“But, we’ve already sealed up two boxes.”

“Unseal them. Check those pockets and save anything you find. Put them in a bag for me
—not Anna—got that?” Caburn hung up. Damn. At least it would not be Anna finding those tell-tale slips that hinted at adultery, or worse.

Anna couldn’t figure
out what part of D.C. they were in until Caburn drove past the Australian Embassy. Outside of a small hotel, she saw nothing but brownstones.

Caburn drove into an alley between two of them and parked in a small lot at t
he back. There were only a half-dozen other vehicles.

“Some restaurant,” she said, scouring him with her eyes. “This is where you live, isn’t it?”

“I do not live here. I’m taking you to an underground restaurant. It’s the kind of place that doesn’t advertise, doesn’t put up signs. It’s word-of-mouth only. It’s one of my favorite places. The owners are second generation Sicilian. The food is—”

“
—Is it legal?”

“It’s everything any other restaurant is, except the food is better, the owners are friendly
—”

“How did you find it? Who told you?”

“My boss, Albert, brought me here the first time. Are you angry with me for some reason? What did I do or not do that I don’t know I did, or didn’t do?”

Anna laughed. “Could you repeat that three times in a row? I’m just hungry. I get cranky when I’m hungry. I saved my appetite for tonight and you were late picking me up.”
And I was wondering if you had changed your mind.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I was in the shower and trying to get some of this tape off my chest. I think that surgeon used Gorilla Glue
.”

“That must have been painful.”

It was excruciating
. “Not too bad. Some of hairs came out by their roots.”

Anna was not going to smile. After all, she often waxed her legs; before her honeymoon, she’d had a bikini wax at Elizabeth Arden’s. The pain was worse than a toothache. “Well, if you’re going to feed me
—”

The aroma of tomatoes, anise, rising dough, and warm bubbling cheeses engulfed Anna as Caburn ushered her into the small café. “Oh, my mouth is watering,” she exclaimed.

The restaurant was small, no more than a dozen tables draped in red-checked cloths. Wall sconces on the brick walls cast a soft glow; every table flickering with a candle in a tiny red bowl—and none vacant. They were no more than a few feet inside the door when the owner swooped down upon them. He was very short, his round belly wrapped twice around in a green apron; he was bald but his bushy black eyebrows compensated and defined twinkling, raisin-dark eyes.

After hugs and introductions, he poked Caburn in the chest. “Saint Rosalia have mercy! Frankie! Why you stay away so long? Why you keep you lady a secret?” He kissed his fingertips. “Beautiful, beautiful.” He took Anna’s hand, leading them to a table where a young couple was sipping wine. “You guys eat?”

“We’re just having wine, thank you,” said the young man.

“Well, you finished here. No charge. Go to wine bar.”

The couple laughed good naturedly, and pushed their chairs back.

After Anna and Caburn were seated, Vincenzo hurried back toward the kitchen. “Gina! Gina! Come see. Frankie here with a lady.”

Anna smiled at Caburn. “They call you Frankie, and you don’t complain?”

“He’s Sicilian. He can call me anything he wants to.”

A moment later, Gina came bustling up to the table. Vincenzo trailed her carrying a bowl with a towering cone of crushed ice filled with artfully arranged antipasto. Gina was as short and round as her husband. Her dark hair was pulled into a netted bun at the back of her neck. She had the most exquisite complexion Anna had ever seen. Her eyes were dark, thick-lashed and surrounded with laugh lines. She hugged Caburn, and welcomed Anna. “I cook special for you,” she told them. “You don’t like, send it back with waiter. I fix somethin’ else.”

“I’m going to eat whatever you put in front of me,” Anna told her. “I’m starving, and everything smells so good.”

Caburn was waiting for just the right moment to talk to Anna about Cancun. Between the braised Sambuca shrimp and the veal parmesan, he asked. “Do you feel better now, with a little food in you?”

“I am so relaxed.” She smoothed the huge napkin in her lap. “This is a great place. The food is fabulous. If I don’t take lessons in Italian cooking, I may just have to dine here two or three times a week. I’m already hung up on the bread. Do you think Vincenzo would sell me a loaf to take home?”

“I think he would be delighted.” Caburn fiddled with the stem of his wine glass. “I have something I want to discuss with you.”

“You do? Oh. That reminds me. Did you ever solve the mystery of Kevin’s notebooks?”

Oh, Lord help him. That was supposed to be Dr Neal’s bailiwick. It wasn’t within his psyche to talk about sex with a woman—especially Anna. He could dream about it, imagine it, hope for it, and if the stars were aligned—even do it. It wasn’t discussed in his family and he’d never liked locker-room talk. He felt uneasy thinking about Anna’s body. But, not that uneasy. He just did not want to talk about it.

Anna watched Caburn’s hands try to explain what he seemed unable to. They opened and closed helplessly. Finally, his open palms lay flat on the table.

“You’re not trying to tell me you
did
find treason?” she whispered.

Caburn shook his head. “No
—no. Nothing like that. Treachery. I would say: Treachery. But that might not be the right word. You need to get with Helen. She’s the one who figured it out. I’ve been busy with other things. Can we pass on this topic for the time being?”

“Sure, if it’s going to upset you.”

“I’m not upset. What makes you think I’m upset?”

“There’s a table full of food in front of us and you’ve stopped eating.”

He picked up a slice of pizza. “I didn’t want to embarrass myself by eating too fast.”

“Oh. My mistake.” Anna took a sip of the very good Chianti Vincenzo had pressed upon them. She was having a painfully difficult time keeping herself above the depression that threatened to swamp her very essence. Kevin had wholly undone life as she knew it, as she lived it. She didn’t trust that Frank Caburn seemed to fill the void
so easily. She felt happy and safe in his company. She felt guilty because she felt no guilt when thinking about him, when fantasizing about him, or sitting across from him in this warm, cozy restaurant. He was selfless and caring and funny—exactly what she thought she was getting with Kevin—and didn’t. She sighed inwardly and cast a plea to heaven:
Mom, help me. Just give me a sign—anything—so that I know I’m going in the right direction.

“I want to take you someplace else,” said Caburn.

“I don’t think you can top tonight.”

“Would you consider a Christmas vacation? Five days in Cancun?” Watching her face, Caburn smiled. Her eyes went wide and her luscious lips formed a surprised ‘O’. Then she was shaking her head, no. Caburn felt his heart drop into his stomach.

“I couldn’t,” she said, almost inaudible. “I would feel guilty the entire time. I mean, Kevin is in a morgue in France, Clara-Alice is in the hospital...”

“That’s true and you can’t change it. You’ve spent the past eight or nine years living for them, not yourself. It’s not just me offering this trip, Anna. My boss and Helen both think it’s a good thing. I’ll bet if you discussed it with
Dr Neal, she’d agree.” He told her about Clara-Alice trying to leave the hospital. About the obits Albert was going to put in newspapers: That Thursday was a sort of D-Day—when Janie and her parents and Clara-Alice would be informed of Kevin’s death and the circumstances. “Janie is going to learn that you are not Kevin’s sister, but in fact, his wife. We just don’t know what kind of drama is going to unfold. We want you out of the mix.”

“But, I could just go to a hotel.”

A wave of dismay washed over Caburn. “You could. But, I’ve watched you tonight. You blossomed. The worry disappeared from your eyes. I—I like you, Anna,” he blurted. “I understand it’s not the best time.” She was so suddenly quiet, Caburn was fused with alarm. Damn... Damn... Damn...

“I like you, too.”

Oh, babe
. He felt a ‘but’ coming.

“The thing is, I thought I recognized character in a man. Kevin fooled me. I’m not certain about my choices right now.”

“Nesmith fooled everybody. He was a master at deceiving people. Not just you and his mother—but his bosses, the people he worked with—an entire family in Ellicott City. Think about it—not just the girl, but her parents. How slick is that? And, there’s no telling what or who will come out of the woodwork once those obits are published.”