by Tony Lavely
“Her mom won’t say anything, so it’s Cori’s word against his. And she hit him. He didn’t mark her.”
“Good! I’m glad she stuck up for herself before he hurt her. Now, I don’t know her from anyone, and I don’t believe Amy knows her either. Is she telling the truth?”
“What?” Lisa pulled her hand out of Beckie’s hold. “What do you mean? Of course—”
“Stop! Not ‘of course.’ That just means you’re sold. Has she ever lied? To you, to her mom, to anyone? Bet she has. Why wouldn’t she do it again, to get out of a situation that she hates?”
Lisa threw her weight against the back of the seat, but it was so big she ended almost horizontal. She fought her way up again and glared at Beckie. “I suppose she might. Yeah, she’s lied to her mom, a lot. But this, she doesn’t need to lie about; it’s true!”
“Were you there?”
She slowly shook her head, staring at the floor.
“Lisa, look at me. I’m not gonna throw Cori out. But I want you to learn that supporting her… supporting anyone because of your heart and how you feel about them, that leads to bad things. In the end, you might end up like her mom. From this, the lesson. Do you see one?”
She rubbed her cheek, then took a deep breath. “I’m not sure. I believe her. What more is there?”
“Facts are the ‘more.’ Otherwise, you become an evangelical: ‘I don’t need no stinkin’ facts! I know what’s right.’ It’s not a good relationship even between you two, but you could probably make it work. But when you throw in other people, like Amy, or me, then a belief-based relationship doesn’t work so well. Tell me the facts. Not what she said unless there’s some independent proof.” It was Beckie’s turn to sigh. “It’s especially important if her mom won’t back her up.
“Besides that, to work with us you’ll need to examine things about the job and the people, and gut instinct only carries us so far. Facts, you can go to the ends of the earth on facts. So, you need to learn that. That’s the lesson. Cori’s just the example.”
After a minute of silence, Lisa said, “I understand. I believe her because of our history—some of the things I saw—and that makes it easier for me. I get that that means nothing to you, and it really shouldn’t. What they talked about in my writing class: is the narrator reliable? Can you believe what the author had the narrator say?”
“Kinda, I guess. We’ll talk some more, when we get to the Nest. And Cori will be part of the conversation.”
“I don’t know—”
“If not, that would mean she’s out. She needs to understand where we’re coming from, and tell us in her own words what’s happened, and where she wants and expects to go. I’m sure you can explain that to her.” Beckie teased out a smile. “She can bring a bat, but I’ve got really good protection, starting with you, so maybe she shouldn’t. She won’t need it, for sure.” She pushed at Lisa’s side. “Now, go get some rest or keep whomever company. I’m gonna try and sleep, too.”
Chapter VI: From The Nest to Pakistan
BECKIE’S PHONE HAD INTERRUPTED her sleep once, with Else’s message that the web site had a new page, but she could wait until she arrived at the Nest. In Else’s opinion, at least. After the warning Beckie’d received, she wasn’t so sure until she checked the page herself. In the first place, it wasn’t clear at all, and second, it seemed to say she had more than a week to get to Pakistan—hardly an emergency trip, though she admitted, I have no idea how to get there, or how long it will take, or…
Once at home, conversations with Boynton and then Leonid clarified most of those questions: They were nine or ten hours ahead of Beckie, and it would take a day to get there, assuming all her papers were in order. Leonid or another of his team would meet her flight and transport her to the site. Or to the town nearby, where Leonid had established a base.
“Okay, Maurice, I have time to raise some Cain.”
“You need not on my behalf, Mistress Rebecca.”
“How well I know that. But Lisa… you recall Lisa Grove?”
“Certainly.”
She snickered. He would answer in exactly that tone of voice even if he’d never heard her name. “Well, she’s here, with Amy and a friend that they agreed to rescue from what seemed dire straits. They’re probably at Amy’s place; can you ask them to come visit me, please? And can we have drinks and snacks? I’m starved!”
“Your schedule for feeding will permit?”
“I’ll feed Ralf while you collect them. That should clear me for enough time. If not, there’s some milk I expressed on the plane. He’ll be fine.” She began to rise, but fell back. “One other thing. Can you have someone check the San Diego news sites and see if a recent high school graduate named Cori is being sought for anything? Shen will have her last name.”
“Anything?”
“Yeah. From murder to assault to runaway. If I’m busy, text me that you have an answer.”
He nodded as he left and Beckie offered Ralf her breast.
By the time Ralf needed burping, Amy, Lisa and Cori were sitting, arrayed on the sofa and two of the chairs. Boynton placed the tray of snacks and two bottles of wine on the table. With a “Sodas are also available,” he scurried off the lanai, leaving them alone. Beckie smiled as she placed Ralf in his crib.
“Help yourselves. As Maurice said, if you’d rather soda, or water…” After Beckie’d poured her own wine, she took her chair and set it facing the others. No word from Maurice, so… I’ll just wander off, maybe into the weeds.
“Thanks,” she said. “Cori, we’re here for you, and I don’t know anything about you. Talk to us; tell us about Cori.” Now those are deer-in-the-headlights eyes. “Sorry; I can be a little abrupt. Or so I’m told.” Amy had about jumped off the sofa; she settled herself as Beckie spoke. “What I mean is that I’ve met you just that once, on the beach, where I had you pegged as a typical California girl.” She sipped while watching the girl’s expressions. She’s still scared. Hmm. “I need you to tell me who the real Cori is. Starting with a full name and other biographical things I could get from your passport.”
“She—”
“No! I told you on the plane, Lisa, she has to do this herself. It’s great that you’ll jump in to help her, but this… I’ll have no faith, nor any reason to protect her if she won’t stand up for herself even a little.” Beckie turned to Cori. “Drink some of the wine before you spill it, then stand up, lean against the table… or the railing, and pretend you’re back in that public speaking course you hated.”
Now, that look I recognize. Slitted eyes, clenched jaw and compressed lips. Good! Keep going, girl. Cori gulped her drink, but didn’t empty the glass. Beckie nodded, then gestured with her head, to the railing.
Cori took two steps in that direction, then stopped. “I don’t need to do that.” She returned to her chair. “Coraline D’Costa. Go by Cori. Born… eighteen years ago next month, in San Diego. Mom and Dad divorced, then he died in a car crash. She remarried.
“I’ve lived in San Diego all my life. This is the first time I’ve been out of California… Out of San Diego County, to be honest.
“School. I was with Lisa for most of my classes—”
“Good,” Beckie said, trying to make her smile both big and convincing. “School. Yeah. You’re number one in your class, unless I went to the wrong ceremony.”
“No, that was me.”
“So clearly I was wildly mistaken thinking you’re frightened of talking in public. Why are you scared of me?”
Cori dropped her gaze to stare at her hands. “You remember that speech? Graduation? You’re a terror, one I don’t understand and don’t know how to deal with. You control my destiny… My destiny, and I can’t influence you.”
Beckie leaned back in her chair. “I’d hug you, but I’m not sure it’d give the right impression. I could understand your ‘terror’…” making air quotes around the word, “… if you actually didn’t have any control. Your fear
prevents you understanding. Nothing else. You can sure influence me; you’re doing it now.” She reached for her ponytail and dragged it out from behind her back. “I need to be clear with you. I don’t control your destiny; you do that. I’ll react to your words and actions, but those, you control. Now… Sit there for a minute while I put Ralf down for his nap, and see if you can believe that. When you’ve decided, I have some questions for you.”
She needed less than ten minutes to settle the baby in his bunk and return. The three women were quiet, but Cori and Amy had switched seats; Cori was on the sofa.
“I’m ready for your questions,” Cori said, patting the cushion beside her. “Sit here.”
That’s interesting. What’s on her mind now? You know, Beck, it’d be a lot faster—and more accurate—to just ask! “Thanks.” Before she sat, she glanced around. “Has Maurice been in?”
“Just for refills,” Amy said. “Why?”
“He’s looking… Hang tight a second while I find him.”
As usual, finding Maurice took no more than a stroll to the kitchen. “Anything on Ms D’Costa and her activities?”
His reproach was scarcely hidden. “I was about to let you know.”
Yeah, I saw the phone in his hand when I came in. “It’s okay. I was just about to begin bracing her…”
“Ah. Yes. She’s wanted for questioning about an assault on a family member, but the issue isn’t being pressed as hard as one might expect. She’s reported to be in hiding. With a friend, who has also disappeared.”
“How good are your sources?”
“The best. CNN and Google.”
She laughed at the idea that Maurice depended on his computer, but sobered. Gotta get back… “Elena went to someplace in La Jolla, if I remember. Ring her and ask her to look into it a little further. Obviously, we’ll pay the going rates.”
“Obviously,” he retorted. “I’ll advise you.”
She threw her “Thanks,” over her shoulder as she hurried back to the lanai. There, she dropped onto the sofa a few inches from Cori. “Okay. Tell me why you’re here.”
Cori’s eyes popped open. “I don’t understand… Lisa and Amy asked—”
“Sorry. Not clear. I know why you’re not in San Diego. Why are you here? Why are you tarring your best friend with your—”
“Wait a minute!” The heat in Lisa’s voice was apparent. And it’s welcome, too. “She’s with me because I asked her to be.”
“I know that. What I want her to tell me is how she justifies it. Like it or not, you’re being tainted just the way she is; what’s the rationale? And, no…” She turned back to Cori. “… this isn’t a prelude to saying get out of here, you’re too much of a risk or something. Not at all.”
“I still don’t understand, Mrs. Jamse. I came with Lisa ’cause she asked.”
“You chose. She didn’t hit you over the head and pack you on the plane unconscious. You could have told her to leave you and go. Why did you think this would be better for her?”
Cori sat, wide-eyed and quiet.
“‘I don’t know’ is an acceptable answer. ‘I was scared’ is, too. But you’re sitting here; can you answer me? How do you feel about dragging Lisa into whatever your situation turns out to be? Ignoring the fact that she demanded you do it, and obviously has no regrets.”
Cori turned to sit sideways, leaning against the arm of the sofa. “To be honest, I was so happy she was willing to help… And Amy too… that was really a surprise—”
“Why?” came from Amy and Beckie in a single voice.
“Well, I mean, she didn’t know me at all, or anything, and… And why should she help? Anyway, I was so happy about both of them that… that I didn’t think about the effect on her. Or them.” She wiped her eye. “Sorry.”
“That’d be better if your eyes were actually tearing up. One thing I won’t put up with is fakery and lying.” She got off the sofa. “That will get you a flight out of here that you won’t need a plane for.” Calm down, Beck. “Now, I’m going to take a walk on the beach. I recommend you do the same, alone, so you can think about what I just said. Maurice will have an excellent dinner at seven. After, if you’re ready, we’ll talk again.” She walked through the slider into the house.
The walk on the beach settled none of her questions about Cori, but brought her to Shalin’s door in the hope of clarifying a few concerns about Ralf. Shalin took one look and sent the twins off to play.
“You have a bad-news look about you. Not about Kevin or Ian?”
“No! Not them at all, any more than before, at least. No—”
“How about some fresh tea, first?”
Beckie nodded her quick acceptance and followed her friend to her kitchen. There, she hiked herself onto her usual stool at the island and watched the tea’s preparation. Once it had been set to steep, Shalin smiled. “Now, what’s creasing your forehead with worry?”
“Ralf. No, nothing’s wrong!” she said, to forestall Shalin’s concerned reaction. “But… Willie probably told you it looks like I’m tagged to go to Pakistan to track Ian and Kevin.” Shalin nodded. The twist to her smile probably means she’s figured it out already. “Well, for sure I’m not gonna take Ralf. But I don’t want to wean him yet, either, even if there was enough time to do it.”
“I know your breasts aren’t all that large, but you still make more milk now than he takes, right?”
“Even if we freeze the excess… I got no clue how long I’ll be gone!” She sagged in her chair. “But, yeah. I’ll keep pumping the excess and we’ll store it. But…”
“How do you feel about wet nurses?”
Beckie hid her disquiet behind the tea, sipping very slowly—It is hot!—while she thought about allowing another woman to feed Ralf. What’s the difference between feeding him from her breast and from a bottle—other than the milk is better for him!
“While you’re thinking,” Shalin continued, “the Imam and I’ve been talking about how to help some… disadvantaged… There are some young mothers in that group. If you’d consider it…”
After another sip from her cup, Beckie carefully placed it on the counter and glanced at Shalin. Well, that failed completely! Look at that smirk on her face. She knows— “You know me too well, my dear friend. Yes, as long as they and their children are healthy, and they’re willing to live over here for the duration… I’m sure there are other things I should want to be clear on, but I can’t think of them now. I’ll call Ralf’s pediatrician and tell her you’ll ask her for any other details.” She slid off the stool and hurried around the island to catch Shalin in a warm hug. “You are so good for me; thanks!”
Cori wasn’t ready at dinnertime. Neither she nor Lisa graced Boynton’s table, though Amy and Dylan did, bringing Millie along. “So she’s not scarfing PB & J sandwiches while we’re over here,” Amy joked.
After dinner, Beckie carried her coffee with her as Amy led her to the lanai. Dylan trailed them. “And what are we doing here?” Beckie asked. “It’s a nice evening; I was thinking of walking the beach.”
“We can do that. We won’t run into Cori or Lisa, at least.”
“Oh?”
“Cori’s still trying to figure you out. Lisa took her to the house her folks are using on Nord Cay, kinda like we brought Mom here, to make sure she got something to eat.”
“Hmm, yeah. Okay. Am I that hard to figure out?” She turned on her heel. “Wait. Don’t answer that, yet. Do you want to walk with me?” She smirked at Dylan. “I was thinking of going topless, but I suppose…”
While Dylan choked in apparent surprise—Beckie couldn’t guess whether it was shock or dismay or even well-controlled lust that affected him—Amy laughed. “If we leave him here, he’ll just corner Maurice for the best viewing spot, so better we keep him with us.” When Dylan tried to protest, Amy hugged him hard, and silenced his protests with her lips. “I’m pretty confident, so if you feel the need to air out your milkski
ns—”
Beckie gaped at her. “Milkskins! Where’d that come from?”
“Well, being PC and not using the common ‘tits,’ and considering they are kind of like a waterskin…”
It was Dylan’s turn; he kissed Amy to silence her. And besides, he likes it, too.
Beckie covered her laugh with a hand. “Okay, okay. I’ll survive. Won’t get much of a tan now, so I’ll be conventional.”
This time, Dylan exploded in merriment. When Beckie glared at him and said “What?” he smothered his mirth and said, “I haven’t ever seen you as conventional… in any sense of the word. Well, except that you don’t run around naked, that is.” Beckie grabbed him and gave him a kiss. “See,” he retorted, “if you were conventional, you’d have slugged me—”
He shied away as she made a fist and took a mock swing at him. Amy stepped in between them and caught Beckie’s hand. “Enough, both of you. Are you going to change, or go like that?”
Beckie considered the question. She wore her loose, good for nursing top and pants that were rather too fancy for walking on the beach. She had planned to don her two-piece swimsuit and doff the top on the beach, airing out her milkskins. She giggled, bringing a sharp glance from her friends. Ralf’s milkskins, really. “Yeah. First, Shalin’s looking for girls to… to wet nurse… feed Ralf when I’m not here.” Dylan had a confused look about him. “You can explain it later, Amy. Anyway, probably not a good idea to make jokes like that around them… At least until they get to know how irreverent we all are!” When she stopped giggling, she said, “So, give me a minute to change. I haven’t got anything for you, Dylan, but how about you, Amy?”
Amy smirked. “He can go topless without offending Maurice, I think. I’ve left enough clothes here that I can find something. Wait a minute,” she said to Dylan, “we’ll be right back.”
