“No, I haven’t.”
“Then how about that sushi place down the block?”
“Lauren?” Her father glanced at her. “Join us?”
“Thanks, but I’ve got a lot of work to get through this afternoon,” she lied. “So you two go on ahead.” And I hope you, Hunter, she silently added as they headed for the door, get a bad piece of sushi and spend the night throwing up.
CHAPTER THREE
The visitations
AFTER HER FATHER and Hunter left, Lauren sat staring at nothing, feeling more like a child who’d been sent to her room than a thirty-year-old woman. Then she glanced at the Eagles Roost file and felt yet another twinge of guilt.
She was at least partly to blame for Sullivan losing his funding. If she’d written a dynamite report on his program, rather than just a standard recommendation for continued funding, he’d probably have gotten his money again. Regardless of Hunter Clifton’s objections.
Her thoughts were briefly interrupted by Rosalie, buzzing to say she was back from lunch. Then Lauren returned to wondering why she just didn’t seem able to do anything right—no matter how hard she tried.
Sometimes, she was sure there’d been a mix-up at the hospital, because she was nothing like either Elliot or Marisa. And while neither of her parents had ever come right out and said it, she knew she was a disappointment to them. Especially to her father, who expected so much of people.
She glanced over at the degree Hunter obviously held in such disdain and reminded herself that Hunter was an insufferable snob. Even if Washoe University wasn’t Harvard, at least she’d tried to make her father happy by going back to school after her divorce.
And her graduating in business administration had pleased him. His being pleased, though, wasn’t the same as his actually having faith in her. She knew he’d only pressed her to come and work for the family foundation because he doubted she could make it in the real world.
“Ms. Van Slyke?” Rosalie said over the intercom.
She leaned forward to answer, wondering what the Ms. Van Slyke was about. Rosalie only bothered with formality when she wanted to imply that her boss was an important woman. “Yes, Rosalie?”
“Ms. Van Slyke, there are two gentlemen here asking to see you. Two gentlemen without appointments.”
The way Rosalie was saying gentlemen, Lauren knew her visitors were anything but.
“They say,” Rosalie continued, “you won’t know their names, but that it’s important you talk to them.”
There was a brief silence, then Rosalie added, “They say, Ms. Van Slyke, I should tell you they’ve come all the way from Eagles Roost.”
“Well…please show them in.”
When Lauren rose to greet her visitors, she found that she was taller than either of them…which was unusual. But then, her visitors were generally adults and these two couldn’t be more than about twelve.
She sized them up while they nervously introduced themselves as Billy and Hoops, two of Sully’s kids. They were dressed in standard adolescent summer uniforms—sleeveless T-shirts, shorts and sneakers without socks.
Billy was a little shorter than five feet and Hoops an inch or two over. But what they lacked in size and eloquence, they made up for in sincerity, launching right into telling her how great Jack Sullivan was and how much they liked being at Eagles Roost. Billy did most of the talking, with Hoops nodding along, his dark face solemn.
Listening, she could feel those twinges of guilt developing into a full-blown case. Maybe Sully was obnoxious, but he’d clearly won both the respect and affection of these kids.
“So,” Billy finally concluded, “we thought if we explained to you how things was up there, you’d understand why we don’t wanna get shipped off someplace else.”
“Yes…I see,” she murmured, wishing she could assure them there’d be no problem about their staying right where they were. Instead, she said, “Is Mr. Sullivan aware you’ve come to see me?”
The two exchanged a guilty glance, and Billy began twisting the baseball cap he’d whipped off his head when Rosalie had ushered them in.
“Sully doesn’t exactly know we came,” Billy admitted.
“Well how did you get here?”
Hoops cleared his throat. “We hitched.”
A funny feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. For all they were trying to act like adults, these were children, and she couldn’t help imagining what might have happened if the wrong driver had picked them up.
“You hitched,” she said at last. “Does your Mr. Sullivan allow that?”
“No…we’re not supposed to,” Billy admitted. “We’re not supposed to go very far without tellin’ him, either. It’s just that this was important.”
“He mostly always knows where we are,” Hoops added quickly. “It ain’t easy to put nothing over on Sully.”
“Ahh…I see. And if he finds out you came here, what will he do?”
“Well,” Billy said, “I guess that depends.”
“On?”
“Well…Ms. Van Slyke…see, I know me and Hoops aren’t explainin’ this too good. So what we was thinkin’, was maybe you could come back to Eagles Roost with us?”
“Kinda see how it is up there?” Hoops put in. “For yourself?”
“If you did that,” Billy went on, “I don’t think Sully’d be so mad about us comin’ here. He’d see that we helped.”
The boys stood gazing across the wide expanse of her desk, both their expressions pleading for her to go along with their crazy scheme.
“It just don’t seem fair,” Billy pressed, “to cut Sully off without you even havin’ a look.”
“And isn’t that sorta your job?” Hoops added. “To see what you’re getting for your money?”
The question hit Lauren hard. With all there’d been to do during her first months as director, she’d cut any corners she’d felt she could. And not bothering with a personal inspection of Eagles Roost had been one of those corners.
“So?” Billy said. “Are you at least thinkin’ ’bout the idea?”
“Yes, I’m thinking about it,” she said, although she knew that even considering it meant she was having a lapse of sanity. After all, she’d tried to reason with Hunter and failed. There was really nothing more she could do.
But, looking at the boys, all she could think about was that if she didn’t drive them back they’d be hitchhiking again. And this time it could be a psychopath who gave them a lift.
She sighed. She desperately didn’t want to make one of her little errors in judgment here. And the foundation office was pretty quiet on Fridays.
The cat had to be fed, of course. Her cat, she might as well start calling him. Even though she hadn’t decided on a name, she knew he’d be staying. But Jenny wouldn’t mind popping across the hall and checking on him.
So was there really any reason not to take the afternoon off and drive up to Eagles Roost? She could spend an hour or two there and still not be awfully late getting back. Then, if Jack Sullivan did apply for funding next year, she’d be all set to write an accurate, informed recommendation.
“It’s real nice up there, Ms. Van Slyke,” Billy said. “Kinda like Central Park, but without any joggers or muggers or crazies.”
“Yeah, there’s a million acres,” Hoops added. “And a huge lake and everything.”
“Yes. Hidden Lake. I remember reading that in the file.” She looked out the window, through the pollution-laden haze that was hanging over Madison Avenue. The heat still hadn’t broken; the city still smelled of rotting waste and the seamier side of life. So what could be wrong with getting some fresh country air and doing her job at the same time?
HALF ANGRY, HALF WORRIED, Sully stood staring down the dirt road that led from the clearing to the edge of his property—and thinking the story about what Billy and Hoops were doing was awfully vague. And why hadn’t they mentioned yesterday that someone had offered them a day’s work? If it was true.
; It seemed awfully suspicious, the way they’d hightailed it out of here before he’d even gotten up this morning. If they didn’t show soon, he decided, he’d have to go looking for them. The only problem would be where to start.
“Perfect,” he finally muttered.
When Roxy looked up at the sound of his voice, he scratched her neck. She enthusiastically began wiggling her big behind against his leg, shoving him backward a couple of inches.
“What?” he asked her. “You think we look too anxious, standing here?”
She gave him another solid bump, so he turned and started back across the clearing in the direction of the lodge, telling himself Billy and Hoops weren’t up to anything they shouldn’t be. But ever since Leroy Korelenko had gotten into trouble, he worried when any of the boys disappeared. Especially when one of them was Billy, who got into more trouble than the rest of his kids combined.
Sully stepped up onto the porch and headed into the lodge, where Freckles and the twins were glued to the television. Grace had let them out of kitchen duty because the Yankees were in Oakland for an afternoon game.
Roxy wandered across the lounge and flopped down beside Terry, her current favorite among the boys. Sully strode over and stopped in front of the television—which started all three kids hollering that he was in their way.
Having gotten their attention, he moved to one side and focused on Freckles. “You’re sure Billy and Hoops didn’t say anything more than you told me?”
Freckles shook his head. “Alls they said was it was a job clearing brush someplace. And that they’d be back in time for dinner.”
“They didn’t say who hired them?”
“Nah, I told you, Sully, they didn’t say.”
“Well the rest of you keep in mind that I like to hear things straight from the horse’s mouth, huh? Because I’m not impressed with the way those two handled this. If you’ve got any reason to go someplace, tell me directly. You all got that?”
The three of them nodded as if the thought of doing anything else would never enter their minds, then got back into the game. He stood watching it with them for a few minutes, but he wasn’t really crazy about TV.
He was a book man—had started reading in prison, when he’d been getting the last of his high school credits, and hadn’t stopped. When your education was nothing to brag about, you could learn a lot from books. Everything from good grammar to art appreciation.
Once the inning ended, he went into the kitchen where Grace was chopping carrots and had Otis peeling potatoes. They hadn’t said anything about the funding since yesterday, but he knew they were still as worried about it as he was, so he wanted to tell them he’d talked to Ben Ludendorf.
North Head’s resident lawyer wasn’t the brightest light in the legal profession, but at the moment he just might be their salvation—their temporary salvation, at any rate.
“The boys get back?” Otis asked, glancing over.
“Not yet.”
“Well, don’t worry about them,” Grace said. “They’ll be along any time now. They may be cutting it close, but they wouldn’t miss the last dinner I’ll be cooking for them in three weeks. Not that you can’t cook, Sully, but…”
He nodded. He could open cans with the best of them, but that hardly put him in Grace’s league.
“Besides,” she went on, “I told them yesterday I was making roast beef tonight, so those two will be here for sure.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said, leaning against the counter. “But the reason I came in was to let you know I had an idea for getting some money.”
The couple looked over at him and waited.
“Remember, last fall, some guy had Ben Ludendorf approach me about selling?”
Grace and Otis glanced at each other, then at Sully again. “Sure, I remember,” Otis said, “but if you sold…”
“Sully,” Grace murmured, “you don’t mean you’re thinking of just giving up the program…do you?”
“No, that’s the last thing I’m thinking of.” The relief on their faces almost made him smile. “But that fellow who asked Ben to sound me out wasn’t really interested in buying the lodge itself. Ben said he figured it was too old—that he’d want to tear it down and replace it.”
“Then why on earth was he interested in buying it?” Grace asked.
“Because he wanted a big chunk of secluded land. And Ben said Eagles Roost was exactly the kind of property he’d been looking for. So I figure, if he’s still interested, maybe I can sell him some acreage on the far side of the lake. That would give me more than enough to tide us over until we can get new funding. And with any luck, we’d never even know he was there.”
“Sully,” Otis said slowly, “last fall was a long time ago. Whoever was interested in this place has probably bought somewhere else by now.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. But I figured it couldn’t hurt to check. Ben’s going to get back to me as soon as he’s talked to the guy.”
Neither Grace nor Otis looked hopeful, which dampened Sully’s mood considerably. He was just about to tell them that if this idea didn’t pan out he’d think of something else, when Roxy started barking.
A few seconds later, the screen door slammed. A moment after that, the kitchen door burst open and Freckles was standing there, his lower jaw practically on the floor.
“What’s wrong?” Sully demanded.
“You guys gotta come see what Billy and Hoops just got drove home in!”
When Sully reached the front of the lodge, he saw it was a silver Mercedes. A two-door coupe with those dark tinted windows that give the occupants total anonymity.
He stepped out onto the porch with Otis and Grace, relieved to see for himself that there’d really been nothing to worry about. Hoops and Billy were fine—Hoops standing beside the car, Billy leaning back in through the open passenger’s door to talk to the driver.
Freckles, with Roxy on his heels, charged down the steps and across the clearing to join the twins. They were standing a couple of yards away from the car, and the way they were staring at it in total awe made Sully smile.
Then he let his gaze detail the Mercedes’s sleek lines, thinking that owning it and hiring child labor didn’t quite compute. Like most guys who drove minivans, he didn’t know exactly what Mercedes-Benz got for its top lines, but he’d guess this baby went for well over a hundred thousand.
“What a beauty, huh?” Otis said.
As Sully nodded, Roxy lumbered over to the car and began curiously sniffing one of the tires, not seeming quite sure what it was. No doubt she’d never smelled such expensive rubber in her life.
Turning his attention to Billy and Hoops again, Sully discovered they were both eyeing him—and saw that they looked nervous. Then he realized they didn’t look as if they’d been clearing brush all day.
Nobody wore shorts to clear brush. And nobody looked that clean after hours of physical labor. So if they hadn’t been working…
His relief rapidly dissolved into anger. If the car meant they’d been hitching, they’d just had the last ride of their lives, because he’d ground them from here to eternity.
INSIDE THE CAR, Lauren watched uneasily as Sully started down the stairs. When she’d first seen that old porch, the thought had crossed her mind that it looked like a very relaxing spot…complete with big Adirondack chairs and old half-barrels spilling over with flowering plants.
But standing on the porch didn’t seem to have made Sully the slightest bit relaxed. He was wearing a glare that could probably kill at forty paces.
Billy and Hoops had been referring to him as the chief eagle, and he might well be a bird of prey at the moment—one who’d spotted his victim and was closing in for the kill. And since he was heading straight for her car, she knew who was cast in the role of victim.
That thought started her heart beating a nervous tattoo. Now, when she was actually going to have to face him again, she wished she’d given this trip a little more consideration.
What had seemed like a good idea in Manhattan was seeming like a really bad idea here in the Adirondacks.
She tried to calm herself by looking completely away from Sully and focusing on the older man and woman following him down from the porch. They had to be Grace and Otis Plavsic, and she was relieved to see that neither of them seemed even slightly threatening.
Otis was about sixty and almost bald, but he gave the impression of being both fit and easygoing. Grace, who was positively tiny, had gray hair curling around a friendly, youthful face. She looked like everybody’s favorite aunt.
Sully, though, Lauren thought as her eyes strayed back to him, didn’t look like anybody’s favorite anything. Not the way he was glaring.
The nearer he got to the car, the more tempted she was to throw it into reverse and get out of here—before he discovered who was behind the wheel. But if she did that, Billy and Hoops would have to do all the explaining, which would hardly be fair.
Taking a deep breath and smoothing the skirt of her dress, she told herself that if she didn’t stay long enough to have a tour of the place the boys would be awfully disappointed. Besides, after a four-hour drive it only made sense to finish what she’d started—whether Jack Sullivan liked it or not. It was his kids’ feelings she cared about, not his.
Sully took a final glance at the Mercedes’s windshield and decided he’d need X-ray vision to see through it, even from close range. Then he looked at Billy and Hoops—fixing them with a stare he’d perfected years ago, in prison.
“So?” he demanded. “What’s the deal here? This the guy you were working for today?”
“Not exactly,” Billy mumbled, suddenly fascinated by the toes of his sneakers.
“Then who is he…exactly?”
Hoops was wordlessly edging around the back of the car to the driver’s side. As he reached out and opened the door, Billy said, “Well…Sully…see, it’s not exactly a he.”
Dawn Stewardson Page 4
