Escape with Me

by Janice Sims

  “And even that’s hard to do,” Lana said.

  “Have you ever noticed how the important things in life are always difficult to accomplish? That’s because God wants you to recognize the blessings in life when you’re presented with them, and appreciate them.”

  Lana looked at her father with a deadpan expression. “Are you saying my experience has been a blessing?”

  “Now you know what kind of man you married. It would have been worse if you had been with him twenty years instead of five and all of this happened,” Aaron said reasonably.

  “It stings pretty badly right now,” Lana asserted.

  “Of course it does, but eventually they will find him, and you’ll be able to face him and tell him to go to hell and you’ll live through it. You’re tougher than you think.”

  Lana knew her father was right. After she had admitted to herself that Jeremy had faked his death and run away, she had spent weeks beating up on herself for being so gullible and allowing herself to love a man like him. Now, if she ever saw him again she believed she would stomp on him. She was that angry with him.

  She smiled at her dad. “What about your health and you being in the hospital for the first time in your life. Is that a blessing?”

  Aaron’s smile grew wider. “It got you home, didn’t it?”

  Lana rolled her eyes. “You never quit.”

  “Never, baby girl.”

  Lana stood up. She looked around the room. Flowers were on every available surface. “Your women?” she joked, referring to the number of bouquets.

  “Well, you know...” he said with no modesty whatsoever. “What can I say? There are more women than men in our age group. Somebody has to take up the slack.”

  Lana went to read a few of the cards attached to the bouquets. Sure enough, they were from females. Some names she recognized, some she didn’t. One in particular was of interest to her. It was her high school English teacher, Miss Ellen Newman.

  “Miss Newman, Daddy? You’re seeing Miss Newman?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.

  “She’s an attractive woman,” Aaron said. “And we share certain interests.” He raised his eyebrows in a lascivious manner, which made Lana guffaw.

  “I don’t want to hear anything about Miss Newman’s certain interests,” Lana hurriedly told him.

  “I was just going to say she likes going fishing, too,” Aaron said innocently.

  “I’ll bet,” Lana said dryly. She turned to face him again after reading the message on another card: Get well soon, Tiger! It had been signed by another female admirer whose name she didn’t recognize.

  “Maybe giving up butter and lobster aren’t the only things you should think about letting go,” she said with a laugh.

  “I’d give up the shellfish before I gave up the ladies,” vowed Aaron through a smile.

  Chapter 4

  Ten was waiting when Lana exited her father’s hospital room. She looked up, and he was there as if out of nowhere. She smiled at him, and was reminded of the fact that she hadn’t gotten the chance to question her father about this good-looking man. She’d wanted to know his opinion of him.

  “Oh, Mr. West,” she said, “there you are. Look, really, I can get home from here. Don’t trouble yourself any longer.”

  “Are we going to go over that again?” Ten asked with a smile that brought out the dimples in both cheeks. Lana’s heart did a little flip-flop. Oh, calm down, she told the out-of-control muscle. But then, it wasn’t as if it’d gotten much exercise lately. Not since she’d relegated the male species to a genus lower than an earthworm.

  It was unkind to be rude, though, so she tolerated his enthusiasm.

  She began walking toward the bank of elevators here on the fourth floor. Ten fell into step beside her. “How’s your dad?”

  “Cracking jokes with the best of them,” she said. “If I didn’t know better I’d think this is some ruse just to get me home. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  Ten squirmed a little when she said that. Guilt wasn’t an emotion that he had time for though. Lana’s presence could very well flush out that rat Jeremy Corday.

  He grimaced. Okay, where had the name-calling come from? Formerly, he had thought of Jeremy Corday only as the subject of an FBI dragnet. No personal feelings had entered into it. Now all of a sudden he was attaching derogatory labels to him? Maybe it was because he had not before been so close to someone Corday had damaged with his underhanded behavior. His sympathy for Lana was growing by leaps and bounds.

  He regarded Lana with a quizzical look in his eyes. “You’re joking, right? Would it take something as elaborate as that to get you to come home?”

  For a moment he thought he’d overstepped his bounds because Lana simply stared up at him without saying a word for quite some time, even though it was probably only a few seconds. Then she sighed and said, “I don’t know you. You’re doing a story on my dad and I don’t want to say anything that might end up in that story. I’m sure you understand.”

  The elevator doors opened and he and Lana watched as several people got off the conveyance. He was now alone with her and he pressed the call button for the lobby. “I’m off the clock,” he said. “I promise you as a journalist and, better yet, as an honorable human being, that anything you say will go no further than right here, right now.”

  Lana laughed quietly. “Now see, here we are with the same conundrum. I don’t know you well enough to trust that I can take you at your word.” She’d had her fill of charming men. Not to mention, Jeremy, who had a way of making you divulge everything about yourself until you were laid bare.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you spill your guts to me?” she challenged.

  Ten shrugged as if that was no tall order. “What do you want to know?”

  “Just the basics,” she said, eyes raking over his face.

  “Okay. I’m thirty-five, single, I live in D.C. but I was born in Virginia,” he placed his hand on his chest. “I attended the University of Virginia where I earned a master’s degree in literature.”

  “Literature?” asked Lana skeptically. “What can you do with a master’s in literature?”

  “Exactly,” said Ten, grinning. “So I parlayed my interest in filmmaking into a career. I love books and writers. I focus on literary themes.”

  “Do your parents also love books and writers?”

  “Not particularly. Why?” he asked out of curiosity.

  “They named you Tennison after Tennyson, the poet, right?”

  Ten laughed. “That’s a funny story. Let me preface this by saying my parents really love kids.”

  Lana burst out laughing. A ridiculous reason had come to her of why he’d been named Tennison, but she had a hard time believing it. “No,” she interrupted him, “Don’t tell me you’re the tenth son: Ten is son...Tennison?”

  “Not the tenth son, but I am the tenth child, and the last. Thank God. My parents have six sons and four daughters. I’m the baby of the family.”

  Lana was laughing so hard tears were rolling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry if I’m being insensitive. Just the notion that your parents named you Tennison because you were their tenth child is so...sweet.”

  “Nice save,” Ten said, laughing along with her. “But you’re being too kind. It’s my guess that by the tenth child, with two sets of twins among them, they were running out of names and brain cells. Naming me Tennison is an easy way to remember I’m number ten.”

  Lana wiped her tears away. “Do you still have all your brothers and sisters?”

  “Yeah,” said Ten. “And my parents. Believe me, when we get together for family reunions it’s quite a production.”

  “How many nieces and nephews do you have?” Lana asked.

  “Last count, twenty-sev
en,” Ten said without hesitation. “I’m the only one of my nine brothers and sisters who hasn’t had any children.”

  “You’re a lucky man to have such a big family,” Lana said, smiling up at him.

  They arrived in the lobby. Stepping out of the elevator, Ten glimpsed the same man they’d seen at the airport. He was sitting in the lounge area pretending to be engrossed in a magazine.

  Ten didn’t allow his gaze to linger in case Lana, who had recently proven very perceptive, caught him observing the stranger. Then, he would have to explain himself.

  “Now, will you let me drive you home?” he asked Lana.

  Before Lana could reply, a shrill female scream erupted from the throat of a petite African-American woman bearing down on them. “Lana!”

  Ten couldn’t believe his ears when Lana let go with a piercing scream of her own. “Bobbi Lee!”

  The two women hugged there in the middle of the huge lobby, their exclamations echoing loudly off the high ceiling and marble floor.

  “I heard you were in town,” Bobbi Lee said, her pretty face shining with affection.

  She was five-five to Lana’s five-nine and she had a pleasantly plump figure. Her long black hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was wearing green scrubs and white athletic shoes.

  After she’d let go of Bobbi Lee, Lana took a good look at her. “What is this, a new career?” The last time she’d seen her old high school friend and fellow cheerleader, she was working as a receptionist at a dentist’s office.

  “I’m a registered nurse now,” Bobbi Lee told her proudly, “as of the first of the year!”

  “Congratulations,” Lana said with warmth. “How do you like it?”

  “I love it,” said Bobbi Lee. Then she looked up at Ten. “Oh, I’m sorry if I interrupted something.”

  “Bobbi Lee Erskine, this is Tennison West.”

  Bobbi Lee and Ten exchanged hellos after which Bobbi Lee said, “Yes, I heard you were making a movie about Mr. Aaron.”

  Small towns, Ten thought. I’m here for three days and I’m already the subject of gossip.

  “Actually, it’s a documentary,” Lana provided.

  “Well, you know Miss Gladys can’t get her details right to save her life,” Bobbi Lee said with a laugh. “Momma still works for her and Momma gets the gossip from her and by the time she passes it on to me the facts are a bit screwy.”

  “How is Miss Louise?” asked Lana.

  “Past the age of retirement and with no plans to retire,” Bobbi Lee quipped. Her facial expression turned sober. “I know Mr. Aaron’s here having tests done on his heart. I’m not keeping you from him, am I?”

  “No, we were just leaving after visiting him. He’s going to be just fine.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Bobbi Lee said enthusiastically. “I was heading home myself. Can I give you a lift? It’d give us a chance to catch up.”

  “Oh, thanks, Bobbi Lee, but I’ve already got a ride home,” Lana said regrettably.

  Ten who had been watching the man who had been watching Lana out of the corner of his eye saw his opportunity to tail him. “Don’t give it a second thought. Go with Bobbi Lee. I’ll call you later to see if you need anything. I’m staying at Miss Gladys’s place, so I won’t be far away.”

  “Okay,” Lana reluctantly said. She still wasn’t a hundred percent trusting of Ten quite yet but he seemed nice enough. “Thanks for your help today.”

  Ten murmured, “My pleasure,” as Lana and Bobbi Lee walked toward the exit. He then took out his cell phone and pretended to check his messages.

  “I’m so glad you’re home, we’re celebrating our anniversary this Saturday and you’re invited,” he faintly heard Bobbi Lee tell Lana.

  But as soon as Lana and Bobbi Lee walked through the automatic doors the guy in the lobby put down his magazine, got up and followed. Ten consequently followed the guy.

  * * *

  To Ten’s surprise the man didn’t follow Bobbi Lee’s sporty SUV. Instead the man’s Corolla headed back in the direction of downtown Kitty Hawk. Less than fifteen minutes later he parked in front of an old building that must have been part of Kitty Hawk’s original downtown. It housed three separate businesses as far as Ten could see, a beauty salon; a barbershop; and a detective agency. He watched as the man got out of his car and used a key to enter the detective agency. Must be a one-man operation, Ten thought.

  Ten didn’t stop. He drove straight to Hatteras Island where the rest of his team were staying in a hotel only a few miles from the Braithwaite house. Ten was staying at Gladys Easterbrook’s bed-and-breakfast so that if he were needed he would be within walking distance of the Braithwaites’ house. While his team kept the newfound private detective under surveillance, he would keep an eye on Lana.

  * * *

  Each night before bed Lana removed her locket necklace and opened it. Inside were photos of her parents. Her mother on the right side, her father on the left. When Jeremy had given her the heavy, expensive piece of gold jewelry as a fifth-anniversary gift, he had put a photo of himself on one side and a photo of them on their wedding day on the other. But since his disappearance she had removed their photos. She was rarely without the locket. Only when she showered, worked out or slept did she remove it. She smiled as she looked at her mother’s face. Like her, Mariette had not been what some people described as beautiful. However, she’d had the most expressive brown eyes and her smile came directly from the heart. Lana had her smile.

  She placed the locket on the nightstand and settled down in bed. Bowser, who wasn’t allowed on the furniture, somehow wangled a spot across the foot of the bed. She yawned and turned out the light. “G’night, boy,” she murmured. Bowser whined softly in response.

  It didn’t bother her being alone in such a big house. Bowser was there, and her father also had a good security system, which she’d engaged before going upstairs to bed.

  A couple of minutes after her head hit the pillow, she was fast asleep.

  A little after three in the morning she was awakened by low but menacing growling from Bowser. Her eyes sprang open to the pitch-black of the bedroom. She reached over to turn on the lamp atop the nightstand, and instead her hand touched the arm of someone. She screamed, and leaped for the other side of the bed, scrambling to her feet. Bowser was already on the floor, chasing whomever she had touched in the dark. She heard heavy steps bounding down the stairs. She switched on the light, her eyes adjusting and quickly scanning the room. The top drawer of the bureau where she kept her jewelry when she stayed here was hanging open but nothing else looked out of place.

  She could hear Bowser barking downstairs. Common sense told her she should not chase after a burglar. Nowadays criminals were getting bolder and sometimes kicking in the front door of homes, and brutally attacking the families.

  She picked up the receiver of the phone on the nightstand. There was a dial tone, so fortunately whoever had broken in hadn’t tried to sabotage the phone line. She dialed 911 and reported a break-in while simultaneously trying to listen to what was going on downstairs. Then it dawned on her: she hadn’t heard a thing during the assault on the house. If not for Bowser’s growling she would have probably slept through it all. That meant the burglar knew the security code to her father’s house. How had he gotten access to that code?

  The 911 operator, a woman with a thick Southern accent, advised her that the police would be at her address in less than five minutes and to lock her bedroom door. Lana didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to her to lock the door, but she walked over, and followed the woman’s instructions.

  She stayed on the phone with the operator until she heard sirens outside. “They’re here,” she said to the operator.

  “Good,” replied the operator. “Stay put. More than likely your door was left open when the perpetrator ran
away.”

  She was right. About thirty seconds later a policeman was at Lana’s bedroom door.

  “Miss Corday, my name is Officer Edwards. I’m with the Hatteras Island Police Department. We have a report of a break-in at this residence. Are you all right?”

  * * *

  Meanwhile about a quarter of a mile down the beach, Gladys had gotten up to get a glass of water from downstairs. When she happened to glance out her kitchen window, she saw the police cruisers’ lights flashing in the direction of the Braithwaite house. The lights were so brilliant that she didn’t even need the assistance of her trusty telescope. She didn’t want to wake Henry, who had insomnia and needed every bit of sleep he could get, so she went and knocked on Ten’s door.

  A groggy Ten staggered to the door and opened it wearing only boxers. Gladys was clearly startled by his near-nakedness for a moment but quickly regained her composure. He’d bet she hadn’t seen a male body like his up close in a month of Sundays! “There’s somethin’ goin’ on at Aaron’s place,” she blurted. “Police or ambulances, I can’t tell which, are down there!”

  That’s all Ten needed to hear. “I’ll check it out,” he told her and firmly closed the door to hurriedly get dressed. Two minutes later he was sprinting down the beach.

  Gladys went onto the deck to watch him run. “Be still my heart! That’s one fine specimen of manhood.” She laughed out loud. “On second thought, don’t be still, my heart. At my age one mustn’t tempt fate...” Her voice trailed off.

  Ten ran straight into the Braithwaite house. There were two patrol cars parked out front. Four officers in total were there. Two outside on the porch, looking around as if they were trying to ascertain how the perpetrator had entered the house, and the other two were inside talking to Lana.

  When Lana looked up and saw Ten, he could see the relief on her face from recognizing someone she knew. “Tennison,” she breathed. “I forgot you were staying at Miss Gladys’s.”