Beauty in Flight
Beauty in Flight book 1
Robin Patchen
JDO Publishing
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For my sister, Jennifer.
My playmate, my secret-keeper, my champion.
No matter how far apart we live, you’ll always be my best friend.
Contents
Also by Robin Patchen
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Acknowledgments
Dear Reader
Also by Robin Patchen
Also by Robin Patchen
Beauty in Flight
Beauty in Flight
Beauty in Hiding (Coming March, 2019)
Beauty in Battle (Coming April, 2019)
Hidden Truth
Convenient Lies
Twisted Lies
Generous Lies
Innocent Lies
Other Books
Chasing Amanda
Finding Amanda
A Package Deal
Chapter One
Two years out should have been enough. Cell mates no longer shoved her, fellow inmates no longer raised their fists, and guards no longer leered. A year ago, she’d been released from parole. Harper Cloud was free.
Except her heart didn’t believe it.
At least the icky, creepy, somebody’s-watching-me sensation she’d had since she’d left her house that afternoon faded as soon as she walked through the doors of the nursing home. Among these beautiful residents, Harper felt safer than she did anywhere else in the world.
“Harper, Miss Estelle’s asking for you.” Teresa, the LPN who worked the six-to-two shift, tossed the words over her shoulder as she lumbered behind the counter at the nurses’ station.
“She feeling all right?”
“As good as can be, all things considered.” Teresa typed something into the computer, then looked at Harper again. “New guy in Room 104. Peanut allergy.”
“Got it.” Harper had been trained as an LPN and had once hoped to become a registered nurse. Prison had changed all that. She was lucky to have landed this job as a nursing assistant. While she delivered meals, mopped floors, cleaned bedpans, she focused on how much she loved caring for the elderly, these patients who’d become her closest friends, and ignored the fact that she barely made enough to pay her bills. She helped Mr. Jenkins to the restroom and pushed away a moment of self-pity. She was free to work where she chose. So what if she had to work weekends at the grocery store to pay for the classes she was taking at the local community college? Money wasn’t important to her. Being free—that was what mattered. And the feeling of safety was certainly a plus.
But was it an illusion?
The fear she’d walked to work with tried to worm its way into her mind, but she pushed it away. In here, among her friends, she was safe.
After she checked on all the other patients, she pushed into Miss Estelle’s room. “How you feeling today?”
The old woman’s wrinkled face split into a big smile, and Harper raised the bed so Estelle could sit up. Her puffy blue-gray hair was flattened on one side from a recent catnap. Her brown eyes sparkled in her pale skin. “I wondered when you’d finally get around to me.”
Harper leaned in and kissed the woman’s cheek. Estelle looked grayer today. The pneumonia had taken a lot out of her. “You’re not my only patient, Estelle, just my favorite. You need anything?”
“Went to the bathroom all by myself just a few minutes ago.” Harper tried to show her disapproval with a glare, but Estelle only laughed and waved toward the chair beside her bed. “Been doing it since before you were a twinkle in your daddy’s eyes. Sit down, honey.”
Harper glanced at the door, then took the chair. “Just for a minute.”
“But you saved me for last, right?”
“Don’t I always? Everybody’s settled. Now, tell me. What’d the doctor say?”
“Pfft.” She waved off the question as if it were a black fly. “Told me I’m on the mend, but we know better than that.”
Estelle’s hand was cold when Harper took it. “Don’t say that. If he says you’re improving—”
“We both know I’m not long for this world. I’m not complaining. I’m ready to go home.”
The thought of this place, of the world, without Estelle made Harper’s eyes prickle. She was the closest thing to family Harper had. “This is your home.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she looked down, blinking furiously.
Estelle squeezed Harper’s hand. “You listen to me, honey.”
Harper looked up and sniffed.
“I love you, too. You’re a good girl.”
Harper started to protest, but the woman’s grip tightened, silencing her. “Don’t you argue with me. I’m an old woman, and I know what I’m talking about. You’re not perfect. You’ve made mistakes. Join the club. But you got a God who loves you and wants you back. And you got a family who loves you—”
“They don’t.”
Estelle stared at her with those aged brown eyes. “They’re not perfect, either. So they screwed up. You never going to forgive them, after everything?”
“I don’t have to forgive them, Estelle. I’m the one who went to prison.”
“And they should have been there for you. That’s what family does. They screwed it up, and I bet they know it now. Call your mother, hon. I promise she wants to hear from you.”
Hot tears dripped onto their gripped hands. “As soon as I have something to tell her. As soon as I… as I feel like I’m worthy—”
“Worthy. Pfft. You think you can do something to make yourself worthy? What did you do to make your folks love you when you were born? You earn that somehow?”
The question threw her off. “When I was an infant? What could I do?”
“Nothing. You were probably cute, but mothers even love their ugly babies. Babies do nothing to earn love. They scream and poop and eat.” Estelle chuckled. “Not that I do much more than that now.”
“Stop that. You’re—”
“The point is, nobody’s worthy. Or maybe everybody is. I don’t know. I only know your mom doesn’t need you to be perfect. She just wants you home.”
Harper pictured her mother, the disappointment on her face that last time Harper had seen her. Mom and Dad had come to Vegas to surprise her and had gone to the club where she’d been a dancer. That’s how she’d described her job to them, but they’d figured out what she really did by looking at the posters of the nearly naked women on the blacked-out windows. Her parents hadn’t gone inside, thank God. But they knew what she’d become. The shame, the horror had been written all over their faces. And that was before Harper’d gone to prison.
“You have to give them another chance,” Estelle said.
The desire to hear her mother’s voice was so strong that she considered calling right then. But their last conversation ricocheted in her brain like a gunshot.
She’d called from the jail right after they’d taken her into custody. Her father’s words had never been far from her mind. “Don’t call here again. Ever.”
So she hadn’t. What was there to say? Hey guys, I’m not a stripper anymore. Drugs…? Kicked that habit. Prison was a long time ago. I know I said I was going to become a nurse, but l love my minimum wage job. No, she wouldn’t call them, not until she had something worthwhile to report. She wouldn’t call until she could tell them something they could be proud of. Assuming she ever called at all.
The fact that she had a huge hole in her heart seemed irrelevant but fair, all things considered.
Estelle let go of her hand and coughed again and again. She couldn’t seem to stop.
Harper helped her lean forward, soothing her until she could breathe again. Finally, Estelle lay back and took a few breaths.
“Should I get the nurse?”
Estelle shook her head, recovering a moment longer. Harper busied herself tidying the room. When she’d tossed the last of the tissues that hadn’t quite made it into the trash, she said, “I’ll go and let you rest.”
“One more thing.” Estelle paused to take another deep breath.
Harper returned to her spot at the beside, and Estelle turned her piercing eyes on Harper once again. “On your way here, did you get the feeling again?”
The fear came back like a bad virus. “I shouldn’t have told you about that.”
“Honey, God gave you instincts for a reason. You trust ’em. You think somebody’s following you, then you take care, protect yourself. You get that pepper spray like I told ya?”
“I keep it in my pocket when I’m walking alone.”
“Good, good.” The woman reached toward the end table on the far side of her bed and snatched a cardboard box barely big enough to hold a lighter. “I got you this.”
Harper took the box. “How did you—?”
“Amazon. They got everything. Open it.”
Harper broke the seal at the end of the box and slid out the contents. She slid the keyring over her finger. Dangling from it was a Swiss Army knife about two inches long.
“Go ahead,” Estelle said.
Harper pried out the small blade and showed Estelle. What was she supposed to do with this?
“It won’t kill anybody, but it’ll hurt like the dickens if you stab somebody with it.”
“I could never—”
“Yeah, you’re too sweet for your own good. But you do as I say. The mace in one pocket, the knife in the other. And don’t be scared to use either one if you need to. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t ma’am me. I’m not that old.” The woman started to laugh, but it turned into a cough.
Harper stood. “Let me get someone.”
But Estelle grabbed her hand and shook her head. When she’d settled again, Harper said, “Where I come from, we ma’am-and-sir our elders.”
“Kansas.” Estelle clucked her tongue as if being from Kansas were akin to being from Jupiter. “Just can’t imagine. Now, tell me about your young man. Have you made a decision?”
Harper sighed. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“Nonsense.” Estelle’s New York accent came out more when she was vehement. “The question is, do you love him?”
“I don’t know.” Harper pictured Derrick Burns, his kind eyes, his gentle demeanor. “He’s nice to me. We have great conversations on the phone. When we’re together, it’s as if I’m the only person in his whole world.”
“You feel that way about him?”
She’d been burned by so many guys, it was hard to trust. “Maybe, someday.”
“Hmph.” Estelle pinned Harper with her gaze. “But you’d leave your stalker here. Surely he wouldn’t follow you across the country.”
“I don’t have a stalker.”
“Don’t you poo-poo it. Even if not for the creep following you, there’s the job. If it doesn’t work out with the guy, the job would be good. You gotta think of your future.”
“Assuming Derrick wouldn’t fire me if we broke up.”
“That’d be up to his grandfather, though. Not your boyfriend. And you’ll win over the old man in about five minutes. Then, whatever happens with Derrick, at least you’ll have that job.”
“Is it wrong to go there for the job, not for him?”
“It’s not like he proposed. Right?”
“He just wants me closer to him so he doesn’t have to come to Vegas to see me.”
“What’s wrong with Vegas? It’s a far sight better than where he’s from. Who wants all that cold and rain and humidity, anyway?”
Harper didn’t argue with Estelle, but after living in Las Vegas for years, she’d tired of the heat and sunshine. There were days she longed for cloudy and rainy and cold. Those kinds of days made the sunny ones that much more special. No, it wasn’t moving to Maryland that made Harper hesitate. And to work as a private nurse for a wealthy old man would be much better than this job, even if she did love her patients. The job would be the first step in claiming the life she wanted—a real job, one her parents could be proud of.
If she moved to Maryland, she’d live with Derrick’s grandfather rent-free and have the money to attend college and finish her Bachelor’s degree. Assuming she could ever figure out what she wanted to do with her life now that being an RN was off the table. She wasn’t going back to performing. She knew too well where that path led.
But what about Derrick? He’d sworn he didn’t have expectations for their relationship, but she’d never met a man who didn’t give without expecting something in return. What would he expect from her?
Right now, he acted as if she were his lifeline. He called her every night before bed and again on his way to work every morning. Flew to Vegas to visit her every chance he got.
“You’re my anchor,” he’d told her. “My salvation.”
The words worried her. She could barely take care of herself. How could she be another person’s salvation?
And what did he need to be saved from?
But every reservation was drowned under the sea of gifts and flowers and words of devotion.
She took Estelle’s hand. It was wrinkled and cold. “I can’t imagine leaving you.”
“I got a date with Jesus, and I think it’s coming soon.”
“Don’t say that.”
When the old woman laughed, her face glowed, and Harper saw the young beauty she’d surely been. “I’m not afraid to die, Harper. Dying’s the easy part. It’s living that’s hard. You gotta figure out how to live.” Estelle squeezed Harper’s fingers. “Not for a guy, not to feed and wipe the bottoms of a bunch of old people. You need to figure out how to live for you.”
Chapter Two
It was after ten that night when Harper bid Estelle and the rest of her patients good-night and left the nursing home. She hated walking alone after dark, hated the fear that haunted her. She’d been saving for a car and could almost afford a decent junker. But not yet.
She hitched her purse onto her shoulder and stuck one hand in her jacket pocket to grip the pepper spray. The other hand closed over her new key chain. Wouldn’t Estelle be proud?
Air that had been hot earlier had dropped to the fifties. There were people about, despite the late hour and the fact that it was a Wednesday. Nightlife never ended in Las Vegas. She was thankful for all the city lights and thankful that the Las Vegas nightlife had played a part in her meeting Derrick.
A few months before, exhausted from a long night of partying with his friends, he’d come to the grocery store where she worked weekends. He’d chatted with her and taken her to breakfast. Something had clicked. They’d talked for hours that day. It had been the start of a conversation that never seemed to end. She’d told him the truth about her past, and he’d hardly blinked. It had made her nervous, the way he’d accepted her so quickly, but over the months she’d known him, those nerves had been buried beneath his acts of kindness.<
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Sometimes, she wanted to slow things down with Derrick. Other times, she wanted desperately to escape this life she was leading, and Derrick seemed like the answer. He’d been begging her for months to move to Maryland to take care of his grandfather. It was too soon, though. Wasn’t it? To move across the country for a guy she barely knew?
A guy, she thought… Could she love him? Could she ever trust a man again after her last boyfriend? Emmitt had ruined her life.
It was probably the thought of her ex-boyfriend that had the hair on her arms standing on end. A feeling that someone was there, someone was watching, waiting. The fear that had plagued her for months, years, prickled her skin.
Foolishness, of course. She hadn’t reconnected with any of her friends from before—not that they’d been real friends, anyway. Back then, only Emmitt, her ex-boyfriend, and Barry, his best friend, had felt like true friends. Felt like it, but look what they’d gotten her into. Both of them were still in prison.
Aside from Derrick, Harper hadn’t connected with anyone except Estelle since she’d been released. Oh, there were familiar faces on campus where she was taking a few classes, but those bright-eyed college students wouldn’t want to be her friend if they knew the real Harper Cloud. They didn’t have a past like hers. They didn’t have her sins, her criminal record. Compared to her, they were innocent.
There was nobody in Vegas who cared enough about Harper to follow her. She’d been telling herself that for weeks. She was safe. Of course she was safe.
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