by Jo Leigh
Finally, she opened the drapes a bit and just spent some time staring out the window. She had a decent view of the back parking lot and a strip of the street, and she watched as headlights, taillights and emergency vehicles passed by. It was more of a trickle of vehicles than a deluge, but it kept her from revisiting her past mistakes.
She just wished Tilda would get in touch. Why hadn’t she asked if there was cell service at his mother’s house? Or thought to check if Tilda’s connecting flight had left on time? As she worried, she looked at the time, and realized it hadn’t been that long since Tilda had taken off. It just felt like days had gone by.
Another set of taillights caught her eye, but these were closer. In fact, she was fairly certain they were Subaru lights, leaving the motel parking lot.
It could have been another Subaru, but she doubted it. Where was Parker going now? She hadn’t even thought about asking for her keys back, and he hadn’t offered. He hadn’t given her any real reason not to trust him, but then, he probably figured he didn’t owe her anything either.
And now, the most important thing in her universe was at stake. Maybe trusting him was the last thing she should do.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
IT WAS TEN A.M. before they got the call and were on the road to the airfield. She’d barely buckled up before Parker shot out of the parking lot, and she almost told him she’d drive her own car, thanks, but that seemed ridiculous at this point. If she’d wanted any control over her life she would have asked him for the keys the minute they’d parked at the motel.
“You hear from Tilda?”
She wasn’t surprised he’d asked, but he sounded much more relaxed than he’d been before they’d gotten in the car. Maybe because he was going to be flying soon. Or because he didn’t want to spook her. “Yes. Last night after she landed.”
“Good. Did everything go smoothly?”
“It’s not easy to tell. She sounded as if it did, but she’s also trying not to make me worry.”
“I don’t know a lot about teenagers, but from what I understand, that’s a rare quality. Her thinking more about you than herself.”
“She’s a very considerate person. She knows that it’s okay to be selfish sometimes, but that it’s always important to be kind.”
He gave her a look she couldn’t interpret but didn’t respond.
After the silence had stretched for several blocks, she asked, “Have you spoken to your mother about how things have been going?”
His mouth lifted into a brief smile. “It was awkward at first, naturally, and Tilda was fairly quiet but polite. Once they got to the house and she saw Mom’s husband’s professional-level telescope set up on the back deck, she got all excited. She spent a long time looking at the stars. Wade, my stepfather, is an amateur astronomer, but he takes it pretty seriously. So he was out there with her, and from what Mom said, they were talking about the differences in the constellations between Idaho and Rhode Island. Tilda was a real chatterbox from then on, asking him all kinds of questions.”
“What does he do professionally?”
“He’s a dentist. Has a pretty big practice in downtown Boise.”
“I’m glad for your mom, that she found someone nice and stable.” Ginny meant what she said, but inside, she wasn’t quite so pleased. Tilda hadn’t said a word about the telescope when they’d spoken. But then, she hadn’t been to the house yet, Ginny reminded herself. Although now that she knew Tilda hadn’t gone right to sleep after that long day, it surprised her that she hadn’t received a second call. Or a reply to her texts.
It was ridiculous to feel jealous. Tilda didn’t suddenly love her any less. If anything, Ginny should’ve felt gratitude—for Mrs. Nolan’s and her husband’s generosity and for the fact Tilda had adjusted so quickly. But Ginny just couldn’t help it. Mrs. Nolan was a great cook, Ginny remembered from all those years ago. And there was a man with a scientific bent in residence.
All Ginny had to offer were piano lessons and Tilda’s favorite mac and cheese recipe.
A quick glance at the dashboard clock told her what she already knew—that Boise was two hours behind, and Tilda was more than likely still sleeping. The girl could be a world-class sleeper when she’d had too much excitement.
Staring out the window, she watched as a crew of volunteers walked the grassy highway, already cleaning up after the storm. Thankfully, the wind had died down to what Parker considered a “piece of cake” speed, and the rain had stopped altogether.
It only took five minutes longer to get to the airfield, which looked as if it had weathered the storm very well. There were a number of small planes already outside the hangar, and one plane was taking off as they slowed down in front of a white-and-red plane with two propellers. It looked new, but she knew almost nothing about airplanes. “Is that yours?”
“Yep,” he said, pulling into the far left of the hangar. “It’s a De Havilland DHC-3 Otter. It’s not too noisy, and it’s big enough it shouldn’t be too nerve-racking.”
“I’m not scared,” she said, getting out of the car. Naturally, she’d lied. At least a bit. The plane didn’t look big enough to haul much cargo, but then it had only two seats in the front, so she was probably wrong about that.
“You can come inside the terminal. They’ve got decent coffee, and a ladies’ room, if you need it. I have to talk to someone and then do a check on the plane. We should be ready in about an hour.”
“That long?”
“Afraid so.”
“Okay,” she said, feeling out of her depth as she followed him to a glass door, which he opened for her. The terminal was larger than she’d expected, with seats for passengers, like a real airport. But here the coffee kiosk was more casual, with only one attendant and not much fancy equipment.
“You’ll be all right?” Parker asked, just before he nodded at an older man heading to what looked like the business part of the building.
“Fine, thanks. Don’t worry about me.”
Parker left her holding her purse in one hand, her cell phone in the other. She’d worn a blue dress, one that made her look more sophisticated and professional than her normal summer wear. She could use some caffeine before she looked around. And she could use for Tilda to call.
The coffee turned out to be very good, and she found herself at the window, watching planes load both passengers and cargo. Parker’s plane seemed about midsize from her vantage point, and she hadn’t seen any jets so far.
Fifteen minutes ticked by like an hour until Parker returned from his meeting.
He studied her a moment, then said, “I take it Tilda hasn’t called yet.”
Ginny shook her head.
“She’s probably still sleeping,” he said.
“I know. She had an exhausting day, plus she was nervous. I just wish I had something to do while I wait. Time seems to have slowed down.”
“It won’t be a barrel of laughs, but you can come out and watch me check the plane before we take off.”
That sounded okay, so she grabbed a second coffee, then followed him outside. It turned out to be fascinating.
He checked everything, and with laser focus. She couldn’t see what he was doing inside the cabin, but the engine revved and some flaps went up and down, then the engine shut off. When he got out, he walked around the whole thing, and it seemed to her that he examined every inch of the aircraft from wings to tires to fuel.
Then her phone rang.
It was too loud outside to get it, so she hurried into the terminal. Thankfully Tilda was awake, though she’d just gotten up. Everything was going fine; Mrs. Nolan was nice and Tilda had had some awesome meat loaf and spent hours looking at the stars. They were having waffles and bacon for breakfast.
After a lengthy pause, Tilda asked, “Do you know when I can come home?”
“Not yet, sweetie,” G
inny said, fighting both a smile and tears. “I’ll be sure and text you as often as I can. Maybe I’ll know by tonight.”
“Another night?”
“Can you stand it?”
Tilda sighed. “Sure, yeah. They’re nice and all, and it’s kind of pretty out here. We’re going out on a walking tour downtown, which is supposed to be really neat.”
“Neat, huh?”
“Mrs. Nolan actually said hip but I didn’t want to say anything.”
Ginny laughed, even though she ached all over. “I know you’re being wonderful and they’re already impressed.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know you. Now go eat your waffles.”
“I miss you, Mom.”
“Same back at you. We’ll talk later.” Ginny disconnected and gave herself a few minutes in the restroom before she met Parker outside. He’d brought their overnight bags and helped her into the copilot’s seat.
“It’s bigger on the inside,” she said, as he took his seat. “Guess you’ve heard that a lot.”
“A few times.”
She returned his little smile, but now that she was strapped in, it started to hit her what they were about to do. Aside from possibly facing whatever kind of criminals might be waiting for her, she’d also finally learn more about Meg and the life she’d been living. She wasn’t sure what was more sobering.
“You worried about flying in this small a plane? Or is it me flying it that’s making you nervous?”
“Neither,” she said. “I’m fine. I trust you completely.”
His smirk in response hit her wrong, but then she should have expected it. She honestly did trust him to fly, but he’d never believe her about anything again. Although, she’d bet a great deal that if he’d been in her shoes, and a friend had shown up with a week-old baby, her whole family having done a disappearing act, he’d have done the same thing.
The takeoff was smoother than she’d expected, and then they were up. Listening to him talk to the radio tower was less interesting than watching the scenery as they climbed up into the blue sky. Everything seemed very clean, as if the storm had given the whole coast a sparkling new beginning.
Not for her though. If she lived through the rest of the day, she had no idea what was in store, but her gut said it wouldn’t be good.
He flew straight over the town until there was nothing but gray sea, still turbulent and beautiful after the storm. Tilda might have been crazy about looking at the stars, but Boise was a long way from the ocean. Tilda had always been a water baby. She’d grown up with the tides and learned early to respect their force, but she would miss Temptation Bay. The stories of the pirates, the fish people, running barefoot in the sand. Boise might have rivers but nothing that could compare.
Even so, Tilda might have to adjust. She was a minor, and if Parker’s family decided to fight for her, they’d win.
Ginny brushed away a tear as discreetly as possible, not wanting to give Parker any reason to smirk at her again. When she finally looked his way, he seemed to be brooding. Perhaps he’d seen her after all. Or he could just be thinking of the bank and all that could go wrong.
“Parker?”
“Yes,” he said, immediately attentive although his gaze shifted from her to the controls, to the sky and back very quickly.
“Will you let me be the one to tell Tilda? About...everything?”
The look he gave her was more prolonged than she’d anticipated and more confused. “What?”
She didn’t repeat herself. He’d heard her.
“Don’t make me the bad guy here,” he said, but he didn’t seem angry, just...hurt? “I’m not a complete jerk, you know. It never crossed my mind that you wouldn’t tell her.”
She actually felt a little guilty about her assumptions, even though he’d given her no reason to think he’d be generous.
When he looked at her again, it was after they’d banked a bit to the west. He wasn’t confused any longer. In fact, it felt as if he was examining her the way he’d checked out the plane before takeoff. “We both need to keep our minds on what’s in front of us. If you want to stay alive long enough to talk to Tilda, that’s the only thing you should be focusing on. Do you want to go over it again?”
“Are you purposely trying to scare me? Now? Seriously? Because, guess what, there’s nothing in the world more terrifying than losing Tilda. Or worse, Tilda hating me for the rest of her life.”
His lips pressed together tightly. “Now isn’t the time for dramatics. I wasn’t trying to scare you. You should be scared all on your own. And you should also have realized I’d never cut the ties between you and Tilda. But I won’t have to if Tilda decides she doesn’t want anything to do with you.”
Ginny couldn’t stop the gasp that came out of her, or the tightening of all her muscles.
“But,” he said, his voice softer even though he had to speak over the sound of the engine, “she doesn’t strike me as the vindictive type. She might be confused for a while, maybe wonder why you didn’t tell her sooner, but she’ll also realize that you’ve given her the best life possible, and at great personal sacrifice.”
Afraid another tear would fall, she turned her head to look out her window. How could Parker’s decency make her feel both better and worse at the same time?
It took a while, but finally she felt as if she could trust her voice again. After clearing her throat, she looked at him. “You never told me how you ended up becoming a pilot.”
* * *
IT WAS AN innocent topic, probably intended to make safe conversation.
Parker could shut it down with a quick answer. Raising questions or spurring her curiosity about his past wasn’t something he cared to deal with. But Ginny had slid downhill emotionally—partly his fault. He couldn’t let her spiral. She was so focused on Tilda that he wasn’t all that sure she was adequately aware of the possible danger lying ahead of her. She could very well be walking into a trap. He figured she’d be fine while in the bank, but the moment she left with the contents of the box, all bets were off.
She’d been watching him, waiting, but then he saw her glance at her phone.
Realizing he’d clenched his jaw, he relaxed it. Yeah, she needed something to sink her teeth into, something that wasn’t about Tilda. Guess it was up to him to provide a pound of flesh.
“My dad owned a small plane, a Cessna, and he taught me how to fly when I was sixteen. I loved flying. Probably as much as I wanted to study law. But I could only go up when Dad was home...and not thousands of miles away pretending to be a hero.”
Irritated with himself, Parker unnecessarily fiddled with his earphone. He needed to lose the sarcasm. It amazed him that after all these years he could still taste the bitterness of his father’s betrayal. And it pissed him off that it could still get to him.
“Hey,” Ginny said softly, laying a hand on his arm. “We don’t have to talk at all. But if there’s something you want to unload, I’m quite the authority as far as lousy fathers go. Plus, I sure as heck won’t repeat anything. Not with the ax you’re wielding over my head.”
Even before she lowered her hand the teasing lilt in her voice had died, and Parker knew she’d slid backward, no doubt remembering the whole truth was going to come out anyway, and Tilda would know everything.
“Okay,” he said, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He had her attention again but kept his eyes straight ahead. “I already mentioned my dad was convinced that his job had something to do with Meg’s disappearance. His boss was right, the more time passed, the less sense it made. If they’d discovered he was a Fed, someone from the cartel would’ve put a bullet in his head by then. But Dad became obsessed with finding her using his undercover identity.
“His boss hadn’t approved it, and he was angry, but he let things slide as long as my dad was maintaining some
form of contact. It helped that my dad was responsible for a significant raid that netted the DEA a large sum of cash and millions of dollars in heroin. Yeah, his boss looked the other way real fast after that bust. He didn’t even try to stop Dad from going back under a month later after he showed up at the house in Indiana again. He stayed only two days. There had been no word from Meg. He told us not to worry, he was still looking for her, then left me with a big suitcase full of hundred-dollar bills before he took off.”
Ginny sat calmly, her hands folded on her lap as she listened. If she suspected what was coming next she didn’t let on. Parker took a moment to decide if he really wanted to tell her everything. What was the point? The abridged version had met his objective. He’d distracted her, and it had been fourteen years since he’d last seen his father alive. Fourteen years since Parker’s sterling image of the man had been shattered forever.
Fourteen years.
Around the time Tilda had been born. Had his family known about her, would it have changed anything? He had a bad feeling Tilda would’ve ended up with the short end of the stick on that one.
“Parker? Would you like some water?”
He turned to Ginny, finding an odd comfort in her soft green eyes and gentle smile.
“Sure,” he said.
He took a deep drink and handed the bottle back to her. Their fingers brushed and the sweet warmth of her skin did something to him. Quieted the demons if only for the moment. Fourteen years was plenty of time to get over all the crap that had happened. Why not finish the whole story?
“When I said he gave me a huge bag of cash I wasn’t exaggerating. He told me he’d stashed it away for my education. You know Princeton wasn’t cheap, and Yale Law School? There was enough for Meg’s education, as well. And he asked me to take care of my mom. Within an hour he was gone.” Yeah, fourteen years and Parker still couldn’t erase the image of his mom standing on the small front porch, sobbing for an hour.
