Second Chances

by Phelps, K. L.

Julie collapsed into her chair. She wiped at the tears, a mixture of fear and relief flowing within her. She looked at the partially open desk drawer and cursed her carelessness. So close and she had almost screwed everything up. The timing of everything was so crazy, but maybe it would work to her advantage. She reached into the drawer and pulled out a small box from under a stack of papers and slipped it into her purse. Her eyes locked on the printed picture on the top of her desk. She removed the framed photo from her desk drawer and held it, looking from it to the printed picture. A sliver of a smile played on her lips for a moment then turned into a puzzled frown. She wondered what he would think of it all. If he could still comprehend it at all. She put down the framed photo and picked up the printed picture, shaking her head in disbelief. What were the odds of Nathan King stumbling across her?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Cameron let out a curse as he looked through the files. Nathan King? Well she had been right, his name had started with an N and his last name was like Prince or Crown. Part of him insisted she had known all along and that she had merely been screwing with him, but another part tried to rationalize it all. It had, after all, been several years and he had put more than a little emotional stress on her. No, had she known, she would have given up the information after he'd threatened to cut off her visitations.

  He leafed through the file on the man. The material was of course out of date. They had stopped collecting data on him about a year ago.

  "Perhaps we should have kept on top of him," Cameron mused to himself. The empty room did not answer. He silently cursed himself. It seemed like such an obvious oversight at this point. Especially given how things had gone wrong with her. He looked around and noted no phone in the archive room, so he slid the drawer shut and took the file with him back to his office.

  He cursed aloud when he entered his office and remembered he'd ripped the phone from the wall. "Screw protocol, even if it is my own," he said as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed.

  "Hey boss," Jimmy said as he answered his phone.

  "Jimmy I need..."

  "Nothing yet. It's going to take a while for the searches and even then..."

  "Silence."

  Jimmy did as instructed.

  "I know who he is."

  "Really?"

  "Nathan King. He was her husband from several years back."

  "Really?"

  "He and Paige ran an online sports equipment store. At least that was what they did back then. I need you to find out what he is up to now. More importantly I need you to track him down, now."

  "Should be no problem," Jimmy said. "Especially if he hasn't made any radical changes. Just give me a moment to try and access the older database. Still haven't got direct access back."

  Cameron could hear the wild clicking if keys through the phone.

  "Her husband. Wow, who would have seen that coming?"

  Cameron grunted in response.

  "I mean, what are those odds like? Probably more likely to get struck by lightning twice than..."

  "Yes, wild odds, Jimmy. Please, every second counts."

  "Sorry, I am having issues. Like I said, access is blocked for some reason. I am having to do work arounds."

  Cameron coughed and quietly cursed Dillinger. "Yes, there are some major issues happening. I am afraid you won't have direct access for a while. Is that going to be a problem?"

  "Major issues? Anything..."

  "Nothing you need to be concerned with, however do not leave a trail. Understood?"

  "Sure, but that is going to mean things will take a little longer."

  "Just the best you can manage, Jimmy."

  "Okay, I am in. Still using the same credit cards, pulling up his latest transactions. The Gap, United Airlines. Last purchase was two tickets to...wow, ready for this? Providence, Rhode Island. "

  "They're coming here? When?" he asked, glancing at his watch.

  "Looks like it leaves within the hour. You want me to stop them?"

  "What?"

  "I can slip them onto the no fly list. Push out a security alert on them and have airport security notified."

  So easy. Only a day ago that is exactly what he would have done or something very similar. However he knew he couldn't pull that off now. Dillinger had seen to that.

  "No, Jimmy, I am afraid it is not going to be that easy."

  Jimmy could hear exactly what his boss wasn't saying and so remained quiet. He could tell the man was angry and had no desire to have any of that anger directed his way.

  "Keep him under your digital thumb, so to speak. I'll get back to you."

  "Want me to bring in some help?" He already knew the answer, but decided he needed to keep up appearances. Plus, he knew it would irritate Cameron, without actually coming back on him.

  "No," Cameron said. He knew what Jimmy was asking, but with the insanity of the situation he did not know how many people he could trust. Dillinger could and likely did have his people any and everywhere. He wouldn't put it past Dillinger to intentionally screw him over, heck for all he knew he had arranged all of this. The thought angered him so much he almost dropped the phone. The more he considered it the more certain he was right. Of course he had. Dillinger had arranged for this King fellow to stumble upon his wife. There was no way that this had been a coincidence. It had to be Dillinger.

  "No. I need you to be the only eyes on this Jimmy. Can you do that for me?"

  Jimmy reached down to the mini-fridge under his desk, pulled out and popped open a can of Red Bull. "I'm your man, Mr. Kassar."

  "Good."

  Cameron ended the call and cursed aloud to the empty room. This should be an easy fix. A phone call or two and he should be able to make the entire situation disappear. Damn Dillinger. Now he was going to have to get his hands dirty. The thought of that did not bother him, he enjoyed a little hands-on work every now and then, but he knew he was going to need some help. Again, this wouldn't have been a problem just a day or so ago, but now he was cut off, as Dillinger had put it. Well he would just have to work with what he had.

  Cameron paced the room for a minute, his mind running through various scenarios. He finally stopped and let out a sigh. He did not see that he had many choices. Sighing once more, he began to dial his phone again.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  She was still sitting in her urine soaked pants when the phone on her desk began to vibrate. She didn't know how long she'd been there, but it was now dark outside. She shivered and finally noticed the pool of wetness she was sitting in. Realization of what she had done hit her. Shame, anger and terror all welled up within her.

  The phone buzzed again, but she ignored it. In her mind she could still hear Kassar's voice. Aloha. It meant both hello and goodbye. Goodbye. With Cameron Kassar, that was not a word you wanted to hear him say to you. Certainly not when he was in an angered state. It could take on an entirely new meaning. A permanent meaning.

  Aloha.

  The phone buzzed again, vibrating and moved a little across her desk. She ignored the phone and stood up. She walked over to the couch and picked up her purse.

  The phone buzzed again and still she ignored it. Probably her husband calling. Damn insipid fool. She took her purse and walked toward the bathroom, ignoring the phone as it again buzzed.

  "Sorry, Phillip, no fun in the sun for either of us," she muttered to herself. No, she did not see Hawaii in her future. No fun in the sun. No sex, sex, or sex.

  Again the phone buzzed.

  "No, Phillip, not even with you," she said to her reflection in the mirror.

  She was a mess, her makeup had been smeared by tears. She looked ten years older, felt twenty. She dropped her purse into the sink and then undid her belt and slipped out of her pants and wet panties, flinging them to a corner of the bathroom.

  Aloha.

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. She felt fresh tears threatening, but choked them back, striking a closed fist against the sink, determined not
to cry. She opened her purse and pulled out her gun. She ran her left hand along the barrel of the nine millimeter.

  Aloha.

  Cameron's voice continued to echo in her mind. She raised the barrel of the weapon to her temple.

  Aloha.

  She shifted the weapon to under her chin.

  Aloha.

  A clattering from the other room drew her attention. She knew her phone had finally vibrated its way to the edge of the desk and fallen off. A chuckle escaped her at the thought that the phone had tried to jump to its own demise. As if on cue, she heard the buzzing of the phone again.

  "Screw it," she said aloud. "Okay Phillip, let me give you something to remember." She stormed out to the living room and snatched up the phone. She intended to tell Phillip aloha and then shoot herself. Her only regret is that she would never get to see the expression on his face.

  She let out a startled cry when she saw that it was not Phillip calling, but Cameron. She dropped the gun and it slammed into her right little toe. She yelped and then unleashed a flurry of curses as pain bloomed. She hopped on her left foot, lost her footing and tumbled back onto the couch.

  The phone buzzed again.

  Why would he be calling? He wouldn't call to gloat or threaten. That was not how he would handle her. Was she wrong about what he had said? She had been quite sure of what he'd meant when he'd said aloha. She had originally toyed with the idea of running, but completely dismissed it. If she didn't run, maybe he would make it quick. She had expected her door to have been kicked in by some faceless gunman. Hell, she had decided to do it herself and not give him the satisfaction. What she had not expected was a phone call.

  Once more the phone buzzed in her hand.

  Hands trembling, she raised it to her ear.

  "H...hello."

  "Linda, finally."

  Was that relief in his voice?

  "Cam...Mr. Kassar?"

  "We have work to do." He now sounded more like himself. He continued talking, but the words were a jumble to her. Her mind was still trying to process the fact that she had apparently been granted a stay of execution.

  "We?"

  She heard Cameron sigh, but when he began to talk, his anger was held in check.

  "Yes Linda, we. You and me."

  "You and me?" A shiver ran down her spine. Was that fear or excitement? Mostly it was confusion, she decided.

  "Yes. The man with Paige. He was her husband from a few years back. Nathan King. I am tracking them. They are headed for Rhode Island. We need to deal with them."

  "What do you mean we need to deal with them?"

  "Exactly how it sounds."

  "But why not just..."

  "I do not have time to explain everything, Linda."

  She felt another chill at the sound of his voice saying her name. He was talking to her in a way she had never heard before. Perhaps not as an equal, but certainly different than he'd ever done before. There was something in his voice. Was it subtle desperation? He needed her? Another chill. She realized she was sitting on the couch, half-naked, talking with a man who both thrilled and terrified her. She found her mind drifting, a slight smile on her lips. Cameron was often the man she thought about while in bed with her husband.

  "Linda?"

  "Yes, Cameron, I am here. What do you need me to do?"

  There was a pause on the line and for a moment she wondered if she'd overstepped herself by addressing him in such a familiar manner.

  "I need you to come here. I need you to catch the first flight to Rhode Island. Unfortunately you'll never make a flight tonight, but there is one leaving at six thirty tomorrow morning. Be on it. I will meet you when you land."

  I need you. The words echoed in her head.

  "Can you do that? Can I count on you, Linda?"

  She found her mouth dry and suddenly thought the room felt extremely warm. She cleared her throat.

  "Yes, I can do that. I'll see you tomorrow, Cameron."

  The phone clicked off as Kassar hung up and she dropped it on the couch. Her entire body was tingling, her fear replaced by excitement.

  The phone buzzed again and she snapped it up quickly, part of her hoping Cameron was calling back. Caller ID revealed it was her husband and she frowned.

  She tossed the phone, she was feeling much too excited to be brought down now. She slipped back into the bathroom, reached in and turned on the shower. She slipped out of the rest of her clothes, a smile still on her face when she heard the phone buzzing in the other room.

  "Aloha, Phillip," she murmured as she slipped into the warm spray of the shower.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  She flipped the journal closed, her hands visibly shaking. She felt a flash of anger. What the hell was going on? She hated that she couldn't stop the shaking. She clenched her fists and realized it wasn't just her hands, her entire body was trembling.

  "Hold it together."

  She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and held it for a ten count before slowly releasing it. The trembling did not stop, but it lessened a bit. She repeated the action again. She felt the wetness on her cheeks and knew she had started to cry. She cursed her weakness at first, but then quickly rationalized with herself. Why shouldn't she be upset? How could she not be? The last two days had been completely overwhelming. Anyone else would be acting the same way. Wouldn't they? Heck, she was likely holding up better then most people would.

  She looked over at Nathan. He looked so peaceful. Her eyes flicked from him to the journals and back. A better question might be, how was he keeping it together? She reached out and took the glass of water from the middle seat tray table and managed to get most of it in her mouth. She closed her eyes once more and did another ten count, then opened her eyes and reopened the journal, determined to go on. The tremors in her hands continued as did the tears, but she read on.

  The flight attendant had returned twenty minutes later and noticed her trembling and the tears. Her eyes went wide and Paige could tell she was about to do something. Just what that would have been she didn't know, but she was certain it would cause a commotion. She raised a finger to her lips and then lifted the journal. The woman gave her a questioning look, but relaxed a bit. Paige gave her a little smile.

  The attendant leaned in close and spoke softly. "Are you okay? Can I get you anything?"

  Paige wasn't sure she trusted her voice, but decided to risk it. "Do you have any paper?"

  "Of course."

  "And can I get some more water?"

  "Are you sure you wouldn't like something stronger?"

  This elicited a genuine smile from Paige and she almost laughed.

  "No, thank you. Water is fine."

  The attendant hurried off and returned moments later with a small pad of paper with the airline's logo on the top of each page and a bottle of water. She gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder before leaving.

  Paige dug in her purse for a pen before returning to the journal. She began rereading and stopped every so often to write on the pad the attendant had provided.

  Hours later she wiped absently at the tears. She wasn't trying to stop them, had given up on that long ago. At this point she was merely trying to clear her vision. She reached the end of the third journal, closed it and then leaned back in her seat. She sat in silence, her entire body tingling. The range of emotions coursing through her was mind blowing.

  She looked over at Nathan. She didn't know if she wanted to smile or frown. To laugh or cry. To embrace him or run screaming from him. Could all this be real? Had everything in the journals happened? Had any of it? How could that be possible? Could she be his Paige? If she was, then why didn't she remember any of this? If she wasn't, then how could he know so much about her? How could someone have imitated her so convincingly that she herself was doubting what she did and did not believe?

  She reached out and tenderly brushed a few stray strands of hair from his forehead.

  She picked up the last of the journals
and fanned the pages. He hadn't written too much in this one she saw. She stopped on the last entry and noted the date was yesterday and guessed he had written out on the balcony while she had slept. My God, had that really only been yesterday? Her eyes went back and forth from that final entry to the page of notes and questions she had written on the notepad. She held her right hand up in front of her and was proud to note that the trembling was minute. Instead of being terrified, she found it oddly comforting that both the questions he had written in the journal and ones she had written on the pad closely matched up.

  She slipped the notepad into her purse and put the journals back into the laptop bag. She yawned. She felt completely drained. She reached up and turned off the overhead lights, closed her eyes and, without thinking about it, reached out and placed her left hand in his right. Nathan's hand closed over hers with a reassuring squeeze. A slip of a smile spread over her lips. They both wanted answers to the same questions and she hoped that together they might be able to find them.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  The layover in Chicago was brutal. The flight attendant woke them shortly before landing as they had not been woken by the pilot's announcement of their impending arrival. Paige had blushed when she saw they were still holding hands. She felt completely foolish. The term school girl sprang to her mind. For his part, Paige wasn't sure if Nathan even noticed. He was still wiped out from the previous days and moments after bringing his seat into the appropriate landing position, he was once again asleep.

  The landing went smooth and they taxied to their gate quickly. Paige woke Nathan again once they had opened the door to the terminal. He said nothing, but nodded at the appropriate times and followed her instructions. They were the last to deplane. The terminal was eerily quiet. It was the middle of the night and as such the foot traffic was slim and none of the shops appeared open.

  Paige took the tickets from Nathan and looked to see where their connecting flight would board. It turned out they were only a single gate over from where they needed to be. The boarding desk was currently closed. While there were still people moving about the terminal, she noted that there appeared to only be one other passenger waiting for the same flight. A middle-aged woman was curled in a tight ball in the waiting area, fast asleep with her carry-on serving as her pillow.