The Heart Heist

by Alyssa Kress

  Marty clenched his fist. "That's ten years! Can't they get that right?"

  "Even ten years," the judge proceeded wearily. Whatever he might have said next was abruptly cut off by the back door banging open once again.

  This time Tom Horton came through, accompanied by someone who looked vaguely familiar to Gary, but whose face he couldn't quite place. Whoever he was, he brought the judge to his feet with an astonished expression of respect.

  "Mr. Governor!" the judge gushed. "This is a surprise."

  The governor strode purposefully toward the front of the room. "Nice to see you, Marvin." The two men shook hands. "I came to make your life easy this morning."

  Gary watched in astonishment as the governor put a piece of heavy-duty paper on the desk in front of the judge. "You can dismiss the case against Gary Sullivan. This is a commutation of his sentence." He turned to wink at Gary. "You should see how this story has hit the papers."

  Maybe he should, but right then Gary's brain was barreling down a different path. Sentence commuted. Suddenly those little kids in the backyard popped back into being. Five years' worth of dreams and desires rushed into his mind, scrambling his thought processes. Panicked, he pushed the dreams down again. Commutation? No. It wasn't possible.

  The judge didn't seem to think it was possible, either. He stared speechlessly down at the heavy bond document on his desk.

  Gary met Tom's eyes.

  Tom grinned. "Effective immediately."

  No, Gary thought. Not for me. He looked back at the crowd of faces. For him, life didn't work out this good.

  Ollie, up front, cleared his throat. "Uh, Gary, there's a very nervous little filly waiting for you outside. She don't know about the governor, I don't believe, and I hate to think what she might get up to, left too long to her own devices."

  Gary blinked. Kerrin... The thought of her broke his paralysis. Ollie was right. No telling what trouble Kerrin could get into, particularly if she were nervous. "Excuse me," he muttered to the marshal, and rose from his seat. In something of a fog, he pushed through the low wooden rail. But even through the fog, a sense of urgency took hold of him as he went out the door. He began to run. He sped down the hall, dodging clerks and secretaries. At the top of the courthouse steps he came to a sliding halt.

  Kerrin was pacing at the bottom of the steps, her little car parked at the curb. Her obvious anxiety told Gary she had no idea what had transpired upstairs in the courtroom. Meanwhile, she was waiting for Gary.

  Wow, Gary thought. Freedom, and a loving woman waiting for him. Could this be possible?

  Kerrin looked up. Her eyes widened as she took in Gary at the top of the steps. Then she went into immediate action. She threw open the passenger side door and scurried around the hood for the driver's side. She was in one awful hurry.

  Gary looked down at his hands, still cuffed, and his jailhouse clothing. Slowly he smiled. Well, well, well. He'd finally caught her. Kerrin didn't think it was possible either.

  He climbed into the car just as Kerrin revved the engine. As any self-respecting jailbreaker would, he asked, "Where are we going?"

  "Ohmigod." Kerrin managed to look more flustered than usual. "I don't know, Gary. Which is closer ‑‑ Mexico or Canada?"

  A geography teacher she was not. Gary's smile deepened as she shoved the car into gear. "Uh, Mexico, I believe, sweetheart. Turn south at the corner. That means right."

  "South," Kerrin muttered under her breath, leaning forward over the steering wheel.

  Gary hadn't known it would be possible to love her more than he already did. A minute ago she'd hoped she was going to be driving him home. In the span of a split second she'd decided to become a fugitive from the law. He wanted to pick her up and squeeze her to pieces.

  They hadn't gotten to the corner in question, however, before the car coughed pathetically and then lost power.

  Kerrin, her hands clutching the steering wheel for all she was worth, could only stare out the front windshield. "It's the hoses," she pronounced darkly. "Ollie told me to get them replaced."

  Gary took one look at her miserable face and realized he was finally beginning to believe this. It was all too crazy. Kerrin – and freedom. The hoses! He laid his head back against the seat.

  "Gary." Kerrin was stern as he went helpless with laughter. "This isn't funny. Now we're both going to be in prison."

  Gary made a heroic effort to control himself, but didn't have time to explain before the marshal appeared at his car window.

  "Mr. Sullivan, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to get out of the vehicle."

  Gary politely turned to face him. "Why's that?"

  The marshal exposed a set of big white teeth. "Those manacles and the clothes happen to belong to the County of Mono, sir. You don't want to start your new life in possession of stolen property, now, do you?"

  "Well, when you put it that way." Gary pushed open the car door, keenly aware of Kerrin's jaw-dropped interest. As he stood there, waiting while the marshal unlocked his cuffs, Kerrin slowly got out of the car, narrowing her eyes at him. He guessed he had some punishment coming.

  "I don't suppose you brought me any clothes, sweetheart," Gary said, hoping to deflect the worst of it. He was still giddy. "Else they're going to have me walking out of here in my birthday suit."

  "That would serve you right. Telling me to drive to Mexico." But Kerrin smiled. A happy smile. "The judge gave you parole?"

  "Your dad brought in the governor." Gary was so glad he got to be the one to tell her, to see her as flabbergasted as he'd been. He paused to savor the moment while rubbing his newly freed wrists. "They commuted my sentence."

  He waited eagerly to witness her disbelieving reaction.

  All she did was raise an eyebrow. "That's better than parole," she decided.

  Gary cracked a laugh, then pulled her to him. "I'll tell you what's better than either one of them," he said, and kissed her.

  The way Kerrin kissed him back, totally, with all her heart, told Gary she felt the very same way.

  The marshal cleared his throat. "Uh...not to throw cold water on the proceedings here, but y'all ought to get arrested for kissing like that!"

  Gary and Kerrin were grinning at each other as they pulled back from their embrace.

  "If you think that's bad," Kerrin turned to tell the marshal, "wait 'til you have him walk out of here in his birthday suit."

  EPILOGUE

  Matt thought it clever of Elaine to invite everyone to Thanksgiving dinner at her new place. Doing so saved them all from the horrifying prospect of Kerrin's cooking. Elaine, as it turned out, was pretty good in the kitchen. Matt bit into her stuffing and allowed himself a modest burst of pride. Elaine was very good in the kitchen.

  "The phone has been ringing off the wall," Kerrin complained, digging with gusto into her own plateful of food. "Everyone's after Gary's security expertise."

  Across from her at the second-hand table, Gary made a face. "Frankly, I think I've had enough of security work."

  "Too dangerous," Tom Horton agreed.

  "You got it." Gary's gaze slipped over to Elaine, where she had her kid sister balanced on one knee to coax tiny pieces of turkey into her mouth. "Though I suppose it's a way to make a living, while I work on getting my teacher's certificate."

  "You'll make a fine teacher." Allyce Horton sounded completely confident, having forced Gary to submit to one of her phrenological analyses.

  "Yeah, well, fortunately I know a school principal who won't mind hiring an ex-con."

  Kerrin snorted. "Some ex-con. You only prevented this town from getting blown up."

  Gary met Matt's eyes with clear long-suffering. "How many times do I have to tell everybody? It was Matt who saved the town."

  Matt grinned. "Hey, if I can stand being a hero, so can you."

  Gary growled something under his breath and once again his eyes went to Elaine's three-year-old sister. There was something decidedly avid in the way he kept drinkin
g that little girl up.

  Oh no.

  Matt switched his gaze to his own sister. She was eating like there was no tomorrow. Never had he seen the woman eat like that. Oh, hell. The two of them hadn't even been married a whole month!

  Elaine gave her sister's food-spattered face a big kiss and set her on her feet. The boys had already finished eating and were playing in the backyard. What with so many kids running around all the time, Matt had yet to collect his rain check on that kiss of his own. He narrowed his eyes at Elaine. Oh, but he would. Soon.

  "I'll get the dessert," Elaine said. Allyce rose to help while Tom, deep in some scientific cogitation, wandered off toward the porch.

  Alone with Matt then, like on cue, both Gary and Kerrin turned on him.

  "So, kiddo, when are you going back to PT?" Gary asked.

  "You promised," Kerrin reminded him.

  Matt held his hands out, palms up in surrender. "Look, I'm trying to work out the logistics here." The truth was he actually wanted to work toward walking again, but there were a few knots to be worked out. For one thing, Matt didn't relish the idea of staying at an apartment in L.A. during the week with his mother. She tended to get out of hand without his father around. For another, he wasn't willing to leave Elaine alone all week long. Some other guy was likely to figure out how she was going to look in ten years.

  Kerrin got a crafty look in her eye. "If you'd be willing to work out every day, I'll bet it would be cheaper to just hire a trainer to come live here."

  Every day. It would be brutal. But Matt could also stay right here in Freedom.

  Elaine came bursting out of the kitchen with the most gorgeous pumpkin pie Matt had ever seen. It was still hot and smelled like autumn and thanksgiving. Elaine's sister crawled into Gary's lap and Kerrin winked at Matt. She mouthed, 'Don't worry. Not yet.' But the expression on Gary's face said it wouldn't be long.

  Well hell, Freedom wasn't such a bad place after all, Matt thought with the smell from the pie making a warm place in his chest. It was, in fact, just where he most wanted to be.

  THE END

  Author's Note

  Although true that a century of controversy has surrounded the transportation of water from the Owens River for the use of Los Angles, the transfer of this water from the river to the Los Angeles Aqueduct is not attended by so appropriately grand a structure as the DWP facility I have created for this story. Instead, the water is simply shunted into a concrete ditch. I felt, however, that such a monumental change in the area's environment and history warranted something more significant than that, and hence invented the pumping station beside the imaginary town of Freedom. Litigation regarding the Owens Valley water continues to the present day.

  About the Author

  Alyssa Kress completed her first novel at age six, an unlikely romance between a lion and a jackal. Despite earning two degrees from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and spending nearly a decade in the construction industry, she's yet to see her feet stay firmly on the ground. She now lives in Southern California, together with her husband and two children.

  You can learn more about Alyssa Kress and her other novels at http://www.alyssakress.com.

  Preview of The Indiscreet Ladies of Green Ivy Way

  Someone was coming through her back screen door.

  In another house, in another neighborhood, this might have given Olivia Chandler cause for alarm. But not on Green Ivy Way, and not on Wednesday. On Wednesday evening all the women came in through the back screen door. It was more convenient.

  No, Olivia was not alarmed until she saw exactly what had come to her back door.

  "A plant?" As she met Anja at the screen door, Olivia gazed apprehensively at the botanical horror being held with incongruous solicitude by her across-the-backyard neighbor.

  "It's for you." The exact words Olivia had not wanted to hear. Anja thrust the plant at her. "A gift for the hostess."

  "Why ‑‑ why ‑‑ I don't know what to say." True enough. Warily, Olivia took possession of the houseplant. It weighed about a ton. With its sharp, spiked leaves and muddy green color, it looked as if it had just stepped out of a B monster movie. "Uh, I think I ought to warn you, I've got a black thumb." Was there any way to get Anja to take the plant back? "Truly terrible. I kill anything with roots."

  "Is no matter." Anja smiled her gorgeous smile. Olivia had often wondered if speaking the dramatic Russian language for half her life had given Anja's face its exotic beauty. But then, Anja surrounded that exotic face with a two-hundred dollar haircut and, today, a sweater by Yves Saint Laurent. The woman might be a scientist, but she sure knew how to clean up.

  "It's called Mother-in-Law's Tongue," Anja told Olivia, indicating the plant. "Nothing can kill it."

  Was that so? Olivia eyed the plant anew. My, but one could see some resemblance to Gideon's mother there, in the sharp, unyielding leaves and in the bitter hardiness ‑‑ not that Olivia considered Gideon's mother to be her in-law any more. Or at least, she shouldn't be an in-law...

  "Well, thank you." Olivia surrendered to the inevitable. "I'll just...put this down." As she turned, her floor-length Indian skirt eddied about her bare legs reassuringly. No, Gideon's mother should not be an in-law any more. It was a decision Olivia ought to ‑‑ and would ‑‑ make tonight. And if she was surrounding herself with her favorite clothes and her dearest friends to ease the way, so be it.

  Olivia's next-door neighbor, Shana, spoke from the futon sofa beside the fireplace. "Bribes won't work, Anja." Looking dangerous in a form-fitting business suit, Shana swirled a glass of white wine. "No matter what gift you bring, Olivia is still going to make us meditate tonight."

  "Oh," Anja said, in a lowering tone.

  "Yeah," agreed Brittany. A blend of tomboy and harried mother in a pair of faded blue jeans, the final member of the group sprawled in Olivia's low-slung easy chair by the coffee table. "We're meditating."

  Anja grimaced as she lowered to a position on the floor next to Brittany.

  Olivia hid a grin. Seven months ago, she'd moved into this house near San Diego with nothing but her pottery wheel, her clothes, and the cookbooks. Most importantly, she'd thought at the time, she'd moved away from Gideon. As it turned out, the most important thing had been to move here, next door to the three neighbors now gathered in her living room. They'd gone from acquaintances to close friends ‑‑ to the best medicine possible to distract Olivia from the mess of her marriage.

  "Now, no criticisms about the meditating." Olivia stated this mildly as she bore the Mother-In-Law Tongue past them all to the dining area of the open-plan house. "Last week I sat and watched your midnight blue video, didn't I, Shana, without a word of complaint?"

  "No, no words of complaint," Brittany smirked. "Just a lot of well-placed sighs."

  Olivia's lips twitched. "How would you know about my sighs?" She leaned over the oak veneer table to place Anja's plant in the center. "You fell asleep!"

  "I heard them before I drifted off. Boy, was that soft core stuff boring." Brittany took a healthy swallow of her wine. "No way I could keep my eyes open."

  "It wasn't boredom that put you to sleep." Shana leaned forward, displaying the cleavage her suit jacket had probably been tailored to supply. "It was over-stimulation. You haven't had any in two years and you're sex-deprived."

  Brittany lowered her wine glass from her lips in a hurry. "You gotta be kidding! I'm sex-free. Like virus-free. Healthy." She shook her head and snorted. "The only thing that could make me hot nowadays is a reliable babysitter. Yeah, someone who'd show up on time, and not call in sick at the last minute. When I need to get away from those two monsters, I need to."

  As all the women had met Brittany's five-year-old and her toddler ‑‑ both boys ‑‑ there was a round of understanding nods.

  "Although it does occur to one, Brittany." Shana scratched the edge of her glossy pink lips. "That you could ask your ex for help."

  "Huh." Brittany shot Shana a dark look
as she reached for the bottle of Chardonnay. "You are joking."

  "Well, he is the children's father. He could take some responsibility."

  "Blake is not in the equation." Brittany poured herself a generous glassful of Chardonnay. "After two years he still hasn't asked for custody of any sort, and that's just fine and dandy with me. Better if those boys never know their low-down, rotten father."

  Somehow Brittany said this in a way that made it clear exactly how Blake had been low-down and rotten: via other women. Then Brittany looked up and directly at Olivia. It was a look that said, you know what I mean.

  With an inner lurch, Olivia glanced away. She quickly smiled and clapped her hands. "Well! Shall we get started?" There were, in fact, some uncomfortable comparisons possible between Brittany's ex and Gideon. But Olivia didn't want to dwell on how Gideon had been unfaithful ‑‑ on top of everything else.

  "Anja, would you light the candle?" Earlier, Olivia had placed a beeswax candle in the center of the coffee table, together with incense and a box of wooden matches. The meditation was a new thing for her ‑‑ yet another distraction from her problems ‑‑ and she was still reading up on various techniques.

  "Wait a minute." Shana held up one hand. "Aren't we supposed to do that touchy-feely thing first? The one where we say what we're going to let go of this week. Doesn't that come first?"

  Olivia's jaw dropped. Yes, of course. That had been the plan. She was supposed to give him up tonight.

  And she'd nearly skated right past it!

  It was one thing to refuse to face his betrayal of their marriage vows, it was another to skate past the whole point of the evening.

  But Olivia continued to skate past, lifting her chin and waving an imperious hand. "Oh, we can skip that part tonight."

  Brittany, arching an eyebrow, turned to Olivia. "I like it. Why are we going to skip it?"

  Because I obviously can't do this after all. Wasn't that evidenced by her inability to file for divorce, nine whole months after leaving her husband? Olivia managed to unclench her teeth. "Fine. We can do the letting go thing, if you insist."