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Authors: Terry Odell

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What's in a Name? (28 page)

BOOK: What's in a Name?
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Blake sat in a molded plastic chair in
the bus station. Kelli slouched three seats away and two rows in
front of him, wearing sweats and a baseball cap. She had insisted
on a circuitous route, buying a train ticket from Chicago to
Spokane using Jack’s EnviroCon credit card, but taking a bus to
Madison instead. And then getting off and buying tickets to
Champaign.

Incognito in his handyman clothes, he
stared at the scuffed linoleum on the floor, playing a mental
connect-the-dots with the gray spots of dried gum. The smell of
burned coffee, sweat and urine carried him back. How many years had
it been since he’d been in a bus terminal? He and his brother,
sitting on chairs exactly like these, their feet too short to reach
the ground. Their old man between them, delaying rather than
preventing the inevitable sibling fights brought on by boredom,
lack of sleep and frustration at picking up stakes one more
time.

Their feet rested on the battered
suitcases—one each—holding everything they owned, not that they’d
have been allowed to own more than would fit in their suitcases,
even if they could have afforded it.

Chins up, boys. Work’s awaiting. And
where there’s work, there’s hope. I’ve got a good feeling about
this one.

Blake’s stomach growled and he thought
of the Chinese food he and Kelli had shoved in the refrigerator
before they’d dashed away. He eyed the vending machines. Aside from
the prices, they hadn’t changed much since he’d been a kid. Oh,
they hadn’t gone hungry, but he hardly remembered ever feeling
full. The old man could stretch a dollar, but the vending machine
fare in bus depots rarely matched his budget. Blake had been in his
teens before it had dawned on him that on those occasions when
they’d been allowed to buy a treat from the machine, or celebrate a
birthday with more than a fast food burger, it had meant his dad
had skipped a meal.

The familiar angst clenched his gut and
he blinked tears back before they had a chance to form.

Can’t change what happened, boys. All
we can do is move forward and make things better.

A little over three hours ago, he and
Kelli had dropped Delivery Man into a thankfully empty laundry
room, tying him, spread-eagled, to the legs of the Formica folding
and sorting counter. By now, he was sure, someone would have found
him.

This was beginning to be a replay of
their escape from Scumbag, although this time, instead of endless
flights of stairs, they’d taken the elevator to the second floor
and only walked the last one to avoid going out the front door
where the doorman would see them.

Delivery Man didn’t talk. Whoever was
paying him—and probably Scumbag—commanded loyalty, in the form of
bail bonds and high-priced legal representation, he’d bet.

Whoever was behind this had to be
desperate to attack again, of that much Blake was certain. Despite
their joking about it, three attacks in three cities was a flashing
neon sign that someone wanted something. It had to be about more
than Robert. Too bad he had no clue what.

He glanced up at Kelli. Even though her
back was to him, he could tell she was checking the door regularly.
He knew she was itching to get her fingers onto a keyboard, that
the phone number for John Smith was burning a hole in her pocket,
but after a rousing few minutes of heated discussion, they’d agreed
to wait until they were out of Chicago.


Hollingsworth,” she’d
insisted. “He knew you were here.”


Jack Stockbridge
could have found us easily enough—we used his credit card for the
flight.”


Maybe they’re in it
together.”


What about
Thornton?”

Which was why they were taking the bus,
paying cash, and sitting two rows apart in the Madison depot.

He saw Kelli’s head jerk upward and
followed her gaze to a television set flicking a static-filled,
soundless newscast. Dwight Hollingsworth, his wife, and Vance
Griffith stood together, their hands joined overhead. Things were
getting underway for the next gubernatorial race.

A garbled mechanical announcement
crackled from the loudspeaker and he reached for his duffel. Kelli
was already standing, her gym bag slung over one shoulder and a
small rolling case she’d borrowed from him at her side. They
boarded the bus in silence.

Barely half-full, the bus afforded a
choice of seats. Kelli stopped by an empty row and accepted his
help in wrestling the case into the overhead bin. The gym bag,
which contained her precious laptop, she set on the seat beside
her, one hand resting protectively on its top, as if to tell any
other passengers she’d move it out of the way, but only if there
weren’t any other seats. He sighed and took the aisle seat across
from her.

He saw her anger, her frustration, and
her strength. Thankful for the last, he leaned back and closed his
eyes. She’d put her trust in him this time, letting him call his
brother.

How long since he and Brian had really
spoken? Their relationship had degenerated to Christmas cards and
birthday phone calls, but Brian hadn’t hesitated to drop everything
and help.


I’ll be at the
station to meet you,” he’d said. “Nobody’s using the old place.
It’s yours.”

Which, in fact, wasn’t quite the truth
anymore, but he didn’t want to think of that. Too many memories. He
hadn’t told Brian he’d deeded the property to Torrie, Brian and
Stacey’s four-year-old daughter. He thought of his niece. She’d
been five days old the last time he’d seen her. All red and
wrinkled, but with a blue-eyed gaze that could melt a glacier.
Would Brian have her along? No, it was too late for a little one to
be out.

He sensed more passengers trickling
onto the bus, spreading out among the empty seats. With the whoosh
of the hydraulic doors closing, and the rumble of the engine
kicking into gear, the bus pulled out of the station.

 

* * * * *

 

Kelli found her portable CD player and
inserted a Natalie Merchant disc. Adjusting the earphones, she
reclined the seat and closed her eyes. There was something itching
at the back of her brain, and she’d find it. For now, she’d rest.
Maybe even sleep. She’d hesitated about accepting help from Blake’s
brother, but Blake had sworn Hollingsworth didn’t know anything
about Brian. A risk, but for now, it was one they’d decided to
take. It was a place that didn’t require a hotel, airplane, or
intervention from Jack Stockbridge.

Jack. Shit, he couldn’t have set her
up. He wouldn’t. But what if someone had come back and forced
him—hurt him again? She pushed the thought away. Blake had been
right. Better not to call. Not while there was any doubt—even if
all the doubt was his. Her fists clenched involuntarily and she
forced a deep, relaxing breath. The only thing traceable was a
train ticket to Spokane and that was a good thing, since they were
going the other way. Everything else had been done using a
disposable cell phone and not from Blake’s possibly bugged
apartment. They’d paid cash for the bus tickets. Worrying wasn’t
going to answer any questions.

She let her mind float with Natalie’s
melodies and drifted into sleep. From time to time, she was aware
of the bus stopping, taking on and disgorging passengers, but
nobody intruded on her space.

A hand at her shoulder jerked her
awake. She blinked and looked across the aisle.


About ten more
minutes,” Blake said.


Mmh. Thanks.” She
yawned and checked her watch. Right on schedule. She put her CD
player away, put her bag on the floor and slid to the window seat.
Gazing out the window, she saw—not much. The highway was almost
deserted and there was little on the roadside.


Where the heck are
we? Middle of Nowhere, USA?”

Blake slid into the seat beside her and
leaned over. She inhaled at the heat he brought with him. Their
eyes caught for a moment and she was glad the interior of the bus
was too dark to see their brown depths.


Almost. We’re outside
of Champaign.”


What are those
lights?”


Harvest lights.
Tractors. They’re picking the crops. This area grows corn and
soybeans. Lots of corn and soybeans.”


I thought you were a
city boy. What do you know about corn and soybeans?”


I spent a few years
here. I’m sure you can dig out when and why in your magic
computer.”

She glared at him for the sarcasm in
his tone. “I told you, I only dug as far as I needed to find out
who you were. I trust you to tell me anything else I should
know.”

By now, the bus had wheezed into the
Champaign station and Blake wriggled her carry-on from the
overhead. He set it in the aisle and placed his hand on her
shoulder. “Sorry.”

The lights inside the bus came on and
she saw strain in his eyes. Averting her gaze, she slipped the
strap of her bag over her shoulder. “No sweat. Let’s go.”

Blake stepped behind her and she heard
him inhale a deep breath. It seemed to take a long time for the
exhale. She’d attributed his edgy mood to being on the run again,
but there was more than worry etched on his face. For all his
insistence that this was the quick solution to their predicament,
he didn’t want to be here.

An old man dressed in a baggy brown
suit shuffled down the aisle ahead of them. She waited until he’d
made it safely to the ground before following. As she stepped off
the bus into the cool, crisp air, there was an earthy scent that
worked its way over the bus fumes. Without turning to see that
Blake was behind her, she dragged the carryon over the rough
asphalt toward the glass doors of the depot. The room, virtually
identical to the one they’d departed from, was empty at first
glance. She stopped and faced Blake, raising her eyebrows. He
inclined his head toward the vending machines.

In the shadow of the coffee machine, a
man dressed in jeans and a fleece sweatshirt, unzipped to reveal a
plaid shirt underneath, gave a slight dip of his chin. A lock of
chestnut brown hair dipped over his eyes and he brushed it aside as
he stepped forward. His face was older, more rugged than Blake’s,
with intense blue eyes instead of brown, but there was no denying
they were related.

He stopped two paces from Blake.
Shorter than his brother by two or three inches, Brian had the
build of someone who got his muscles doing physical labor, not in a
gym. But he wore the same wary expression she’d seen on Blake in
the bus. She took a step backward as they studied each other, like
dogs defining their territory.

After a long moment, both men stepped
forward. Blake’s brother spoke first.


Didn’t think they let
high-power suits grow whiskers. Thought the long hair was already
pushing the envelope.”

Blake’s eyes crinkled. “You’re looking
good. Married life agrees with you. How’s Stacey?”


She and Torrie are
visiting her mom. I’m swamped with work and Stacey’s a little under
the weather at the moment.”

Concern flashed through Blake’s eyes.
“Sorry to hear it—nothing serious?”

Brian grinned. “Nah. She was the same
way with Torrie—puking her guts out every morning, but it passed in
a few months.”

Blake clapped his brother on the
shoulder, then grabbed him in a close embrace. “You never said
anything.”


Like you call?
Besides, it’s still early. We’ve only been sure for a couple of
weeks. Don’t want to jinx it.”

She heard the hesitation and wondered
if there had been problems with another pregnancy. She glanced at
Blake, who was grinning as wide as his brother.


Congrats, Bri. And
same goes for Stacey. How’s Torrie taking it?”


We haven’t said
anything—like I said, it’s early and nine months is an eternity to
a four year old.”

She watched the worry disappear from
Blake’s face, quickly replaced by joy and then a hint of wistful
envy.

Blake looked her way. “Hey, I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean to ignore you.” Blake gestured to her. “Brian, this
is—”

She stepped forward and extended her
hand. “Emily.”

 

* * * * *

 

Blake came out of the men’s room and
joined his brother while they waited for Kelli.


You gonna tell me
what this is about? I can’t picture you in trouble.” Brian cocked
his head toward the restrooms. “Her? You got something going?
Mister No Strings?”

Blake shook his head. “Long story and
the less you know the better. As a matter of fact, if you forget
we’re here, it might be smart.” The thought someone might find his
brother sent a new fear through him. What about Stacey, Torrie and
the one on the way? Had he made a terrible mistake?


Stacey’s going to
hate that she missed you.”


Yeah—so she can take
my head off for being too busy to be an uncle.”


You know her—forgive
and forget.” The look Brian gave him said things weren’t going to
be quite so easy between them.

Before he was forced into the territory
he’d been avoiding for years, Kelli strode out of the restroom and
joined them.


Shall we go?” she
said.

Brian’s gaze broke away from his and he
bent down for Kelli’s bags. “I’m parked down the block at the
coffee shop like you said.” He took Kelli’s bag.

Kelli looked at him with a crooked
grin. “Sorry about the James Bond approach.”

Blake picked up his duffel and followed
Brian out the door. Kelli shouldered her gym bag and fell in behind
him, dropping back enough so Brian couldn’t hear her. “If you’re
right that nobody with Hollingsworth Industries knows about Brian,
we should be fine, you know. Hollingsworth hasn’t shown himself to
be very good at digging.”

BOOK: What's in a Name?
5.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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