Uncharted (15 page)

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Authors: Angela Hunt

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BOOK: Uncharted
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Lisa settled into 15C, fastened the belt around her hips, and prayed that no one would take the empty seat next to her. The flight to Seattle wasn’t sold out, but with her luck some garrulous old soul would come barging in at the last minute with a suitcase, a heavy coat, and the urgent need to spill his or her life story . . .

She nearly wept with relief when the flight attendant stepped up to latch the door.

She would have thirteen hours of quiet and solitude to digest the events of the day. A full night to think about Karyn and David and Susan and Mark . . . and Kevin.

Funny, how little her friends had changed. Once she got over the shock of seeing gray in Mark’s hair and crinkles at the corners of Kevin’s eyes, all the old memories came rushing back. Kevin was still cocksure and determined, K still enthusiastic and impulsive. Susan had, if possible, grown lovelier since college; she possessed a grace and style she didn’t own in her twenties. A hedonistic streak still marred Mark’s personality, but he’d managed to survive his many marriages with his sense of humor intact.

And John Watson still loved people and assumed the best about them. Trouble was, though she and her friends were much the same, they had picked up responsibilities along life’s road. Lisa would love to embrace John’s idealism, but what could she do with a day care to run and elderly parents who couldn’t be left alone?

Mark’s voice echoed in her inner ear: “
You could always hire a nurse
for the week.”

Sure she could. She could also tell her day-care parents to make other arrangements; she had to leave the country to fulfill an unexpected obligation.

A smile curved her mouth. My, how her clients would whine! She wasn’t blind; she knew they considered her dutiful, dowdy, and dull. They wouldn’t blink if she dropped dead of exhaustion, but oh how they’d buzz if she suddenly packed her bags, closed her day care, and flew away on a mysterious expedition to a tropical island.

So . . . maybe she
should
go. In an island paradise, she could relax with a few of those men in the American military. With tanned skin, windblown hair, and freedom from worry, she might even be able to compete with Karyn. She was no actress, but she was genuine, and she’d loved Kevin for
such
a long time . . .

He’d be a fool not to recognize the real thing when he saw it. And Kevin was no fool.

Maybe this trip could be her fresh start. The school could be a metaphor for the new life she’d build with her own hands. If by some miracle she and Kevin hooked up on the island, she could send her parents to live with Adrian for a while. Once they got over the adjustment period, they wouldn’t care where they lived, as long as they were together.

But how could she afford to hire a nurse? The airfare to the Marshall Islands would probably stretch her meager savings account to the snapping point—

On an impulse, she pulled the Airfone from the back of the seat in front of her and dialed her sister’s number. After two rings, a child’s voice breathed over the line: “Hel-lo?”

“Is this Charity?”

“Yea-ess.” The child dragged out the word, oblivious to the ridiculously expensive rate of airline phone calls.

“May I speak to your mother, please?”

Lisa grimaced as something cracked in her ear, followed by sounds of bumping and jostling. Her niece, who must be nearly four, had dropped the receiver.

Lisa hoped Adrian would step up and rescue the phone, but finally Charity spoke again. “May I—may I ast—may I ast who’s calling?”

Lisa glanced at the per minute phone charges posted on the back of the seat. This call would soon be more expensive than a flight to the Marshall Islands.

“It’s your Aunt Lisa. Please get your mama for me, honey.”

“Okay.”

When the phone rattled again, Lisa gritted her teeth and hoped this would be the last time.

Her sister came on the line a minute later. “Lisa? Is everything okay?”

“Absolutely. Listen, Adrian, I have to go out of town for a week, maybe even a little longer. I was wondering if you could come out to stay with Mom and Dad.”

A moment of stunned silence was followed by, “You know I can’t do that!”

Lisa grinned at her sister’s predictability. Not even dynamite could blast Adrian out of her luxurious brownstone.

“Well, someone has to stay with them. And I can’t afford to hire a private nurse. I barely make enough to cover our expenses—”

“Why on earth do you have to leave town?”

“I’m leaving the country, Adrian, and you know how unpredictable overseas travel can be. So if you can’t come to Seattle, I’ll have to send Mom and Dad to you.”

“Good heavens, have you lost your mind?”

“I’ve never felt more sane.”

“How can you just take off and leave? You have responsibilities, you know. To Mom and Dad, to those kids you keep—”

“I also have a responsibility to myself. I haven’t had a vacation in years, so I’m taking one. And I’m sending Mom and Dad to you.”

A heavy sigh rolled over the line. “I can’t take them, but I’ll send the money for a nurse. Just let me know how much it’ll be.”

Lisa smiled at the flight attendant who offered a cup of water. “Thanks, Sis. I’ll call once the arrangements are made.”

She hung up and smiled in guilty pleasure. She had spent the last twenty years caring for her parents and a revolving cast of preschoolers. She had enabled her aging parents to remain in their home long after they could manage for themselves. If she hadn’t been willing, if she’d never been born, they would have been moved to a nursing home years ago.

Adrian
never
would have taken on the job.

“Yes,” she whispered, relishing the feel of the word on her tongue. “Yes, John, I’ll meet you in LA.”

20

Port Wentworth , Georgia

 

After passing the South Carolina border, Mark pointed the Mercedes toward the first exit off I-95 and headed toward the Friendly Mart he’d glimpsed from the interstate. He’d been incubating a plan since leaving Boston, but he’d need a few things to pull it off.

The Mercedes S500 he’d taken to Boston would retail for nearly eighty thousand, but if Ken Cobb bought it at the employee price, Mark would get only sixty-four grand for the vehicle. If the car was stolen and declared a total loss, however, the insurance company would reimburse at the retail price.

A smile tugged at the corner of Mark’s mouth. Business could be so much more profitable if a manager exercised a little creativity. And if he was brave enough to venture beyond the boundaries, business could also be fun.

He slid the Mercedes between two soccer-mom vans in the vast parking lot, then whistled as he walked into the crowded store. He accepted a cart from the red-vested elderly greeter and doffed an imaginary cap, making the old woman twitter.

His smile faded as he headed to the back and made a mental list. He’d need spray cleaner, a chamois, and paper towels. A suitcase for the trip, nothing fancy, plus shorts, underwear, a couple of shirts, and a pair of rubber sandals. A few toiletries, a bag to put them in, a disposable razor, and a sling from the pharmacy.

And duct tape, of course. The company brand, available all across the fruited plain.

After gathering his items, he went through the checkout line and paid with cash, then positioned the cart against the wall. He looked through the plastic bags and pulled out the sling, then glanced around. When he was convinced he had piqued no one’s interest, he slipped the sling over his neck and adjusted the tape.

He slid his left hand into the fabric support. Now came the hard part—pretending to be a lefty while he fumbled with bags and car keys.

With his arm firmly seated in the sling, he pushed the cart out of the building, whistling “I Feel Good” as he moved into the sunshine.

He walked slowly, guiding the cart with his right hand as he surveyed the parking lot. The day was cool but bright, the parking lot dotted with Wednesday morning shoppers. Now to pick the right one.

Standing in the narrow space between the Mercedes and a van, he deliberately fumbled with the keys. When an older woman walked by with two grandchildren in tow, he averted his eyes and pretended to look for something in his cart. He waited, then glanced back at the store. Another woman, this one twenty-something and slender, was strolling his way with nothing in her hands but a purse and a shopping bag.

Perfect. He jingled the keys again, then pressed the automatic switch to unlock the doors. He lifted one of his shopping bags and deliberately let a paper handle slip, spilling his purchases onto the asphalt.

“Rats!” He looked up and caught the passing woman’s gaze, then gave her a rueful smile. “You must think I’m a klutz.”

She hesitated, glanced at him, and checked out the car. An instant later she was gathering up his shorts, shirts, and underwear. “Don’t feel bad,” she said, laughing. “I’ve dropped my shopping bags even though I have two good hands.”

“Thank you so much.” He gestured toward the open car door. “I hate to be a bother, but if you could toss those onto the seat, it’ll be so much easier for me to unload.”

“No problem.”

As she tossed the first bag into the back, Mark tilted his head, admiring her mass of bronze-gold hair. This one was magnificent.

While traffic from the interstate droned in the distance and seagulls squawked overhead, the woman bent to place his new plaid suitcase on the far side of the seat. “Wow,” she said, her head and shoulders fully inside the vehicle, “nice wheels.” In reply Mark stepped forward and struck the unprotected area of her lower spine, dropping her like a cut rose.

He stepped closer, blocking the sight of her body with his own, then lifted her legs into the car. While she groaned, he tossed the remaining shopping bag onto her back, pushed the cart out of the way, and climbed into the driver’s seat.

He started the car and turned to check for passing traffic. A couple passed by, deep in conversation and loaded with shopping bags, while across from them an elderly woman teetered on a cane, apparently determined to make it into the store.

Mark waited, as patient as death, until the pedestrian traffic cleared. The woman stirred, so before pulling out, he took a wrench from the glove compartment and cracked her temple.

Satisfied that she’d remain still until he was ready to deal with her, he pulled out of the parking lot and headed west along a Georgia road.

21

Atlanta

 

“So . . .” Sarah stirred the soupy remains of her ice cream sundae, then squinted at her father. “What’d you think of the funeral?”

Kevin grimaced. “It was all right, as funerals go. But I don’t think you’re supposed to rate them. It’s not a party.”

“Mom said she had a good time.”

“She did? Well, I suppose we all enjoyed seeing each other again. I haven’t seen those people since college.” He lowered his head to look up into his daughter’s downcast eyes. “What’d you think of your birthday present?”

She gave him a wry smile. “It was all right, as presents go. But I don’t think you’re supposed to rate them.”

“Very funny. Seriously—did you like it?”

Her eyes grew bluer and brighter as the black pupils trained on him like gun barrels. “Did
you
like it?”

“Well, of course I did. I bought it for you, didn’t I?”

She pressed her lips together. “So . . . you’d like, recognize it if you saw it again?”

He managed a choking laugh. “Well, honey, you know how men are. All sweaters pretty much look alike to me.”

Her mouth pursed into a tiny rosette, then unpursed enough to say: “It’s the one I’m wearing now, Dad.”

He inhaled a quick breath. “Oh. Well. It looks different with you in it.”

She glared at him a full minute, then shrugged. “I’m not going to be mad. I’m just glad Mom let me come to Atlanta this week.”

He looked up as the mall movie theater disgorged in a sudden rush. “Are you sure your friend said she’d be seeing
Fantastic Voyage
here?”

Sarah licked the back of her spoon. “This is where everybody goes. She’ll be along in a minute.”

Kevin crossed his leg at the ankle and tried to look relaxed. Sarah’s visit was Karyn’s idea, an impromptu birthday celebration and an opportunity for K to have time alone to prepare for an audition. Fortunately, the Atlanta schools were out today, so Sarah wanted to hang with some of the friends she’d met last summer.

Kevin sighed and rubbed his jaw. He honestly enjoyed Sarah’s visits, though he did resent Karyn’s tendency to assume he could drop everything at a moment’s notice. Sarah’s posh private school was good about allowing her to complete her assignments in Atlanta, and Sarah was good about waiting quietly in the apartment until Kevin could pull himself away from the office. Today, however, she wanted to meet her friend at the mall, and he couldn’t summon the strength to resist her. He chalked it up to birthday guilt.

These days his guilt came in shades ranging from subtle to intense. Every time he glimpsed an adolescent couple on television or spied young people hanging on each other at the bus stop, he couldn’t help but remember how intimidated he’d felt each time he had to meet a date’s father. Daughters needed dads for that sort of thing, but he wouldn’t be around when Sarah went out with someone in New York. Though she hadn’t mentioned any special young man, Kevin knew she’d be dating in a matter of months. How could he intimidate her boyfriends into proper behavior from a distance of seven hundred miles?

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