Not What It Seems (Escape to Alaska Trilogy) (3 page)

But would anyone, especially her father, discover her whereabouts?

“Please pass me your empty glasses, ladies, and fold your tables up. We’ll be landing in a few minutes.” Stacked glasses and bottles atop the trolley tinkled against each other as the stewardess moved farther down the aisle.

Cassidy straightened in her seat. The stuffy re-circulated air in the confined space and her seatmate’s floral perfume intensified her tension headache.

“What brings you to Anchorage?” asked her seatmate, while they returned their tables to the pre-flight position.

The woman had buried her nose in a Nora Roberts romance novel since takeoff, and Cassidy had appreciated the thoughtfulness. Now, the sudden question grated on her nerves.

“Relocating.” Cassidy hoped the brusque answer discouraged further conversation.

Some people couldn’t take a hint.

“Visited Alaska before?” An expectant smile creased the stranger’s face while her eyes unabashedly roamed over Cassidy’s designer suit.

“No. First time.” Cassidy fiddled with the diamond stud in her left ear. She silently chastised herself for wearing work clothes for the flight. In hindsight, ripped jeans, oversized hoodie, and a well-worn pair of sneakers might have drawn less attention. But then again, the corporate-change-of-plans story wouldn’t have rung true.

“You will either love Alaska or you will hate it. No middle ground in the north.” The woman settled back in her seat and crossed her slim legs at the knee—not an easy feat in these close quarters. “Acquired a new job?”

“No.” Cassidy admired the woman’s linen dress splashed with a tropical leaf design, three-inch olive-green leather pumps, and poker-straight shoulder-length hair kissed with blonde highlights. Noticing the woman’s pink-polished artificial nails, Cassidy’s eyes dropped to her own polish-chipped gel nails. She desperately required a fill. First item on her to-do list—find a new manicurist.

“Do you have family in Anchorage?” The inquisitor exuded confidence and total relaxation. Cassidy speculated that perhaps the woman worked as a corporate executive secretary, accustomed to flying as a job requirement. In contrast, no matter how frequently she flew either for business or pleasure, the idea of hurtling through the air in a metal tube always kept her on edge until both feet touched down on good old terra firma again.

“Avoiding family, actually.” Cassidy grimaced. If a successful disappearance is your plan, refrain from divulging your intentions to every stranger you encounter, she scolded herself.

“Oh-oh, there’s a story there.” The woman frowned.

Cassidy closed her eyes. Her nerves were shot, her head was pounding, and her anger hadn’t dissipated one iota since the first confrontation with her father almost a week ago. Perhaps sympathy from a stranger, especially another woman, was exactly what she needed?

She opened her eyes and offered her hand. “Cassidy Du Pont.” She’d decided to use her mother’s maiden name, hoping to further elude detection.

“Sherry Lawrence. Am I being too nosy? I’ve been accused of that on occasion.” Her seatmate chuckled and shook the offered hand.

“Nosy? You should consider psychiatry. I’m contemplating relating my whole sad story to you.” Cassidy attempted a smile.

“If you require a shoulder to lean on, mine is available. But don’t feel obligated to share secrets with me.”

“No juicy secrets to share. But I am furious with a few select people, my father in particular.” Cassidy spoke through clenched teeth. “If I sound positively homicidal, I assure you I’m harmless. I’m just so angry.”

“Good Lord, girl. What on earth did your father do?”

“Dad exerted his mental abuse once too often. In his opinion, he’s not interfering in my life but simply giving much-needed advice. He honestly believes he’s looking out for my best interests.”

“But your best interests don’t require any looking out for?”

“Not…at…all!”

“Tell me the whole story, and I’ll judge who’s right,” encouraged Sherry, patting Cassidy’s knee.

“Okay, here goes. But you’d better decide I’m right,” warned Cassidy.

“I’ll offer a fair and equitable observation.” Sherry straightened in her seat.

Cassidy related the events that set her escape in motion, and then blinked back unshed tears when she met Sherry’s eyes. “Father reached an all-time low, awarding Jonathan the partnership that I deserved. And there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell he’d reverse his decision. So I plotted my escape for the better part of a week. This morning, I submitted my resignation, visited my hairdresser, and then boarded the plane this afternoon.”

“Wow.” Sherry appeared stunned.

“That about sums it up.” Cassidy smiled weakly. “If you’d heard the shouting and witnessed the theatrics that followed my resignation.... But no one will ever dictate options to me anymore. No one will control my future but me.”

Cassidy glanced out the window as the plane circled the Ted Stevens Anchorage International Airport and lined up with the assigned landing strip. Below, bright lights twinkled like a giant hand had tossed millions of sparkling diamonds throughout the city limits. She had imagined Anchorage as much smaller. Perhaps she wasn’t arriving at the ends of the earth after all.

“I don’t…I don’t know what to say?” stammered Sherry.

“I’m one of the firm’s most successful corporate lawyers, but Dad chose Jonathan over me. ‘Can’t have everyone believing I’m playing favorites’.” Cassidy’s eyes welled once more as she imitated her father, reciting this morning’s lame justification for his hurtful decision.

The plane taxied to the terminal, and passengers prepared for deplaning.

Sherry rose and stepped into the aisle. “Do I detect some bitterness?”

“Your detectors operate just fine. I’m extremely bitter. The only reason I didn’t make partner…” Cassidy’s voice cracked. She blinked back tears and then rose from her seat. “The added responsibilities would interfere with Dad’s plan for my marriage and his anticipated grandchildren.”

Sherry dug a tissue out of her purse and passed it over. Cassidy dabbed at her tears, discreetly blew her nose, stuffed the tissue into her jacket pocket, and stepped into the aisle. She dragged her bag down from the overhead compartment and pulled the handle out.

“My father only hears what I say when he’s in complete agreement with me. He heard ‘I’m studying law and following in your footsteps’ just fine. But when I suggested ‘I’ve paid my dues and I’ve earned a partnership’ his hearing evaporated.”

“So you escaped what you perceive to be his tyranny?” Sherry walked ahead toward the plane’s exit door.

“I booked a flight with Alaska Air using my college roommate’s name and paid for it in cash so Dad couldn’t track me down. I opened a post office box for future correspondence with my executive secretary.” Cassidy followed Sherry. “And I’ve left several signed blank checks with her to pay the last of my outstanding bills from our shared apartment.”

Sherry’s pumps ground to a halt and she gasped, “Signed blank checks? Are you nuts?”

“I’d trust Jeannie with my life, never mind some blank checks. Most importantly, nothing short of death threats would force her to divulge my whereabouts to anyone. And if Dad fires her, another law firm will pounce on her immediately. She’s an exceptional legal assistant, and I left a glowing letter of recommendation with her.”

“Sounds rather cloak and dagger, except there’s no dead body.” Sherry laughed, stepping through the security doors into the terminal.

“Just a missing person. After I resigned this morning, I had my hair stylist cut my hair into a short do and I thought auburn a good alternative to my natural brunette. I’m hoping that if Dad has some fellow looking for a pale brunette with shoulder length locks, my new hairdo might trip up his efforts.”

A loud male voice boomed throughout the airport announcing their flight’s arrival and the correct baggage carousel to retrieve luggage.

“Have you made arrangements for accommodations yet?” asked Sherry.

“I’ll live with Sheila’s sister.” Cassidy smiled. “I’ve never met Patricia, but I’m looking forward to meeting her and sharing her home. She’s a successful executive chef at one of Anchorage’s hottest restaurants.”

“Actually, I know Patricia. At least you won’t starve.” Sherry chuckled.

The two women headed toward the baggage carousel. Sheila had checked two large bags with a bright yellow ribbon tied to each of them. Cassidy’s name and Anchorage address was written on cards and hidden inside instead of attached to the handles. She’d hoped to prevent the luggage handlers from questioning a discrepancy in names between luggage tags and ticket holder.

“Your parents won’t know if you’re alive or dead?” asked Sherry.

“I wrote Dad a long letter explaining my reasons for leaving, and I requested he respect my wishes and not search for me.”

“If my daughter disappeared, I’d be frantic.” Sherry shook her head.

They each grabbed a luggage cart and wheeled them toward the unmoving carousel. Cassidy’s cart squealed with each step, and the noise reverberated throughout the silent, sleeping concourse. She glanced at her watch; the time was three fifteen in the morning.

“You have a daughter?” inquired Cassidy.

“She’s living with her granny right now in Portland while I’m saving money to finish college, teacher training.”

“Do you have a picture?” asked Cassidy, as they stopped beside the carousel.

“You bet I do.” Sherry dug her wallet out of her purse, flipped it open and handed it over.

Cassidy studied the photo of a blue-eyed girl with long blonde curls and an impish grin displaying two missing front teeth. “She’s adorable, Sherry!”

“Thank you. I’m so proud of my baby.”

“How old is she?”

“Catherine just turned seven.” Sherry’s proud smile turned into a grimace. “Going on thirteen.”

“And you love every minute of it.” Cassidy chuckled. Laughing felt wonderful, after so many days surrounded by doom and gloom, tears and hurt feelings, preoccupied with schemes and secrets and sadness.

“Now how did you guess that?” Sherry laughed heartily and then looked around. “Would you like a Starbucks coffee? They’re upstairs, and I believe they’re open twenty-four hours.”

“Not this late, but thanks for asking.” Cassidy sighed. After such a long day, she felt exhausted. But strong coffee would jolt her awake and delay sleep until tomorrow afternoon. She looked forward to a soft bed and a minimum of twelve hours sleep once she got settled into Patricia’s home.

“You’re probably wise. I won’t bother either.” Sherry sighed.

“Where’s Catherine’s dad? Or are you a single mother?” Cassidy touched Sherry’s arm. “You don’t have to answer that if you’d rather not.”

“I’m a widow. Gary was killed in Iraq.” Sherry’s eyes welled, and she dragged her luggage cart closer and parked one foot on the bottom rung. “Let’s change the subject. So there’s no hope for you and Jonathan?”

“None at all! Jonathan is insincere and arrogant. And frankly, Riley’s a better kisser.”

Chapter 3

Sherry stared, confused. “Okay, I’ll bite. Who is this Riley fellow?”

“Sheila’s cocker spaniel puppy: long silky ears, big brown eyes, and a cute stubby tail.” Cassidy grinned, impishly. At least the one thing she hadn’t lost was her sense of humor, she thought. Lord knows, she’d lost everything else that mattered.

Sherry just shook her head.

“Jonathan Ward is a loser. Mark my words… someday Dad will regret awarding him that partnership.”

Sherry placed her hand on Cassidy’s arm. “Moving to a new city, no friends, no job. Once you’re settled in, I could initiate a few inquiries about openings for a talented corporate lawyer.”

“Good heavens, no thank you. What easier way for Dad to track me down? I’m finished with Theodore Donahue.” A tsunami of emotions—anger, regret, disappointment, determination—surged through Cassidy. “If Dad discovers where I’m living, I’ll simply hide somewhere else. Maybe I’ll choose somewhere tropical with sun-drenched beaches.”

“Then how can I help you?”

“Well, I’m definitely not the type to sit at home watching daytime soaps.” Cassidy laughed. “A job would enrich my life. But I require something as far removed from law as possible.”

“Ever worked as a cocktail waitress?” Sherry raised one eyebrow.

Cassidy’s mood brightened. “As a matter of fact, in college I worked at the campus watering hole. Dad bestowed upon me an allowance he believed would cover my expenses. His concept of ‘cover’ contradicted my concept of ‘cover’. To overcome the shortfall in spending money, I secretly waited tables. God bless the guy who invented tips.”

“Amen.” Sherry playfully glanced heavenward. “Those tips move me closer to college enrollment every week.”

“You’re a cocktail waitress?” blurted Cassidy, and then felt her face redden. “Not that there’s anything wrong with working as a cocktail waitress.”

“No offence taken. People aren’t always what they seem. I could mention you to the head waitress in charge of hiring.”

“I wouldn’t mind resurrecting my cocktail waitress career. But don’t go to any trouble on my account.”

“No trouble at all, Cassidy.” Sherry smiled, slyly bobbed her eyebrows. “Since
I’m
the head waitress in charge of hiring, and I know for a fact there’s a position coming available in a week or so.”

Cassidy chuckled. “Sherry, fate could turn this chance meeting into a lifelong friendship.”

Suddenly, the carousel rumbled into motion circling like a giant metal serpent. A variety of luggage—suitcases, backpacks and duffle bags—tumbled onto its surface in intermittent intervals.

“I haven’t hired you yet. I require a resume, two character references, work references, a police check for criminal record, and….” Sherry rubbed her arm where her potential new employee playfully punched her.

And then Cassidy’s mood turned serious. “Goodness, Sherry, talk about not what you seem—a defense attorney turned cocktail waitress? Could Dad track me down, working in a bar in Anchorage?”

Sherry grabbed a large floral-patterned suitcase and a black duffle bag off the carousel, and Cassidy hauled her two ribbon-bedecked Louis Vuitton suitcases off a minute later. Both women hefted their bags onto their carts and then headed toward the front entrance.