by Nina Barrett
“Glad it’s a hit.” Mac leaned on the doorjamb, watching her enthusiasm.
“A comb, real shampoo and conditioner, new underwear. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. All the best the drug store had to offer.” He grinned at her as he came on in and sat down to watch.
“Wow, gum, breath mints.” She opened the container, shook out a few, and popped them in her mouth. She offered him the box.
“No thanks.” He took a piece of gum. “At least being on the run means I haven’t been able to afford cigarettes.”
“Good, they’re a nasty habit. My dad has emphysema.”
“Yeah. I smoked in the military, then picked it up again when I was dealing with some things last year.”
Dealing with things? Like Miss Supermodel?
“Lip gloss.” She uncapped it, outlined her lips, and rubbed them together. “Strawberry. It’s amazing how much you regret not having the little things when they’re gone. I was wishing we’d kept all the little samples from the motels.”
“Miss the Major’s?”
“Probably more than you. You slept on the floor the last night we were there.”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“So, fill me in. How did everything go? Did you have a chance to make the call?”
“Yeah, I did it when Maggie was settling up in the business office. It’s a commercial seafood vendor. They finish raising the trout and retail them to restaurants and stores. I walked over to a strip mall nearby, found a pay phone, and then went shopping.”
She laid down the comb she’d been using and took a deep breath. “So what did you say?”
“I left a detailed account of our side of events. I asked them to publicize a way we could contact them privately and turn ourselves in.”
“Turn ourselves in. Doesn’t that sound grim?”
“Yeah.” Mac grimaced and looked down, chewing his lip. “I may have goofed up too while I was there.”
“What do you mean?”
“I took the time to make another call. I got the number of the hospital in Atlanta where Jake is being treated.”
“Did you find out anything?”
“I was connected to the floor where the burn unit is. I said I was his brother. I know enough about Jake to be able to fake it. The woman at the desk said his condition had been upgraded to serious.”
“That’s better.”
“Yeah, it’s an improvement. But then she asked if I wanted to speak to the F.B.I. man who was visiting him. I said no, not to bother him and hung up. I’m sure she meant Whittaker.”
“You think they might get suspicious?”
“If the gal I was speaking to passes along word that Jake’s brother called…” He shook his head. “Unfortunately, Jake’s an only child.”
“Sounds like our kind of luck. Did you just get back?”
“A couple hours ago. It’s a three-hour round trip. One more bit of news. Maggie had the radio on in the truck.”
Her stomach caught. Mac looked serious.
“There was a news item. They’ve found the delivery truck from Titusville we abandoned.”
She made a face.
“I’m not sure how much it makes things worse for us, but it’s probably only a matter of time till they make the link to the stolen pizza delivery car so I’m glad I got it out of sight.”
“Oh, right.”
“Anyway, I helped Maggie with the afternoon chores when we got back. She’s a fascinating character. Strong enough to do what a lot of men couldn’t. She always wanted her own business. Took an inheritance, bought out the original owner, and then expanded over the years. So tell me, what was your day like?”
“Less exciting than yours. I helped with the lunch crowd and then Etta let Rochelle and me clean out the pantry and re-organize it. I took a walk down by the river and saw a blue heron. Is there anything else new about us or the Titusville robbery?”
“Nothing more. I scanned the papers at the drugstore, but I didn’t see anything in them. I’ll pick up the local paper tonight. Right now, I’m going to head up to the restroom and work on this beard. I’ll be a new man the next time you see me.”
“I’m glad I’m not hogging all the goodies.”
She gathered up the things scattered on the table.
He paused in the doorway and looked over at her. “Oh, I managed to find something for myself.”
****
She stopped, arms full of pillows and bedding, and shaded her eyes. Down the path she saw a familiar figure. Had the F.B.I. received the message he’d left yesterday in Montgomery and contacted him in some way? Was their nightmare about to be over?
After finishing at the café, she’d spent the rest of the afternoon sweeping out the cabin, washing windows, and hauling out the mattress and bed linens to air in the sun and flower-scented breeze. It was getting late. She’d been wondering what was keeping him, whether he’d had to work late at the fish farm or if something else was going on. She raised her free hand to wave, letting it fall to her side as she got a better look at his face.
Her heart in her throat, she clutched the sheets and pillowcases and took a step in his direction.
“What’s wrong? Is it Jake?”
“No, actually he’s better. He’s been moved into a regular room.” He stopped, hands on hips. “Let’s go inside. We need to talk. I need to talk to you. Something else has happened.” He got the cabin door for her.
She dumped her load on the bed as Mac sat down heavily at the table.
“What’s happened? Tell me.” She took a seat across from him. “Did someone recognize you at work today?”
“No, it’s…” He stopped and shook his head. “One of the girls at Maggie’s had a radio on this afternoon. I heard part of a newscast. The reporter was saying something about a high-speed chase and the arrest of suspects involved in the robbery and explosion at the bank in Titusville. I only caught part of it before the girl switched it over to a music station.”
“You think they were after us?”
“Oh, yes. I stopped off at the junkyard on the way back here and listened to the radio. The authorities got a tip the Dixie Deb robbers were in the Montgomery area. Someone spotted a couple matching their description and the police launched a pursuit. It sounded wild. One of the suspects bailed out and took off after the car was halted with stop sticks.”
She looked at him.
“He was armed with a gun. Shots were fired.”
“Oh, Mac.” She rested her head in her hands. Not this too. When would this be over? Her stomach heaved.
“By the time I heard the report in the car, they knew they had the wrong people. They were fleeing because there were other outstanding warrants against them.”
“Guns!”
“So much for negotiating a quiet surrender.”
“They knew your call came from Montgomery yesterday.”
“Both of them. I called the hospital’s burn unit in Atlanta as well as the national tip line. I’m sure they’ve questioned people around the phone booth I used. I wasn’t smart enough to pick a place far from the drugstore either. They may have pulled the surveillance tape too if they have camera coverage inside the store.”
She shivered. “So what do we do? Stay here or make a run for it?”
He pushed a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. We’re a hundred miles or so north of Montgomery.”
She got up to stare through the window.
“I switched out the plates on the car for another set at the junkyard in case we need to hit the road. I’m sure the delivery car has been reported as stolen by now.”
“Where is this all going to end?” She leaned her forehead against the glass. “We can’t keep running and hiding forever. This is crazy. Okay, I was an idiot about my tax returns, but it’s not like I have a criminal record otherwise. And you, you’re a federal agent.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve let the Bureau down. I’m
not the poster boy for responsibility, since I left in the middle of a big case last year.”
She turned to look at him as he pushed his chair away and rested his elbows on his knees, bowing his head.
“The truth is I screwed up royally last fall, Jan. I was the lead investigator on a case the Bureau had spent two years developing. Most agents get one shot at a career-maker assignment like that. I walked away from mine and Whittaker knows it.”
She joined him at the table. The setting sun was outlining the windowpanes in gold.
“I was in charge of a case of major internet fraud. Jake was my backup. Then I got a phone call and everything changed.
“One of my sister’s friends called from Lake Claire where she was still living. Some years ago after my sister and Jeff got married, they wanted to start a family. She went to her doctor for a pre-natal check-up. She’d been having some problems she thought were minor—indigestion, back pain, bloating. Except, of course, they weren’t. It was ovarian cancer. It’s a kind of cancer that’s usually curable if it’s caught in time, but it often isn’t because the symptoms are overlooked.
“To make it worse, Jeff died in a construction accident just as her treatment was ending. She stayed on up in Lake Claire, keeping the books for his brothers’ company along with designing and selling her own line of greeting cards. She even had her own website. Health-wise things seemed to be going okay for her, but then last fall everything changed.”
“Oh, Mac.”
“Yeah. I always felt responsible for her. You know, the big brother, her growing up without a mom. She was ten years younger than me. She was only four when Mom died. She and Jeff were a great couple, the kind of people you thought had it all. Anyway, the cancer was back. She’d been undergoing some experimental treatment I didn’t know about, but it had stopped working, too. When Sandra called, I dropped everything and left.” He shrugged. “Didn’t apply for an emergency leave of absence or family sick leave. I just took off.”
She tried to swallow the lump in her throat.
“When I got there, it was evident it was just a matter of time. So unfair. She was just the nicest person, pretty, athletic, kind. You would have liked her. She babysat, life guarded, and worked at the Frosty Freeze to earn money for college while we were growing up. She took care of the house for Pop after I left home. Mona loved Jeff from the second grade. Helped him get his business up and running. Never asked for much. Never got what she deserved.”
The silence lingered as the light dimmed.
“After they got her stabilized, I took her to Europe. I wanted to show her all the wonderful places Pop had talked about that she wasn’t going to get to see if we didn’t go then.”
M.L. Mona Lisa. Not Emelle.
“The Louvre, the South of France, Van Gogh country, down into Italy. Florence, Siena. For a while it was good, watching her take it all in. Then in Rome, she got sick. It took a while until she was able to travel. I sat in the hospital lounge and stared at Italian TV. We got a Samaritan flight back to the U.S. and she was admitted to hospice in New York City. One night as I was sleeping in a chair by her bed, she just slipped away.”
She drew a shaky breath.
“Come on. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He stretched over to cup her chin in his hand. “ML just stopped being sick. After she was gone, I wanted to do something in her memory. Because the cancer took over, I was only able to donate her corneas. It helped knowing a part of her was going to live on. In fact, the young woman who received her corneas has passed the critical time period for rejection. I called the transplant center the other day and they said she’s doing well. I hope to be able to meet her sometime.”
The cell phone call she’d overheard from the bathroom at the Major’s? Had that been what she’d eavesdropped on?
“My sister didn’t have a long life, but it was a good one. There wasn’t a person she ever met who would have a bad word to say about her. I was privileged to be her big brother.”
She nodded as Mac found a tissue to dab her eyes. “Being an only child, I always wanted a brother or sister.”
“Yeah, I was lucky. I had the best.” He got up to stretch. “Anyway, it wasn’t the smartest career move on my part, just walking off a case.”
“But they should have considered why you left.”
“Remember this is the federal government you’re talking about. Jake had to work like the devil to get me reinstated on a provisional basis.”
“If you’d participate in this Dixie Deb fiasco.”
He nodded. “That was the price. With my history, you can see why they might think I’d let the government down again.”
“So what do we do?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out since we’ve been here. We need some kind of edge, a bargaining chip. Something to make them sit up, take notice, and back off so we can explain.”
“Like what? If anyone’s down and out, we are.”
“I was wondering about approaching the I.R.S.”
“You’re kidding! Come on now. They weren’t interested in hearing me out when they were grilling me.”
“Because all the evidence was on their side. Your incorrect tax return, large amounts of undeclared, and inexplicable, income in your accounts. How did it get there? You can’t convince me Jan Thimmons was sitting up there in Georgia skimming money and hiding it.”
“Of course not. I’ve lain awake more nights than I can count trying to come up with an explanation. I can’t sort it out.”
“Maybe the break-up with your fiancé-business partner and the trouble with the I.R.S. weren’t coincidences, Jan.”
She looked at him, wrinkling her brow.
“Start at the beginning. I want to hear the whole story.”
“About what?”
“I’m not sure. Just start telling me about your Mr. Less-than-Wonderful and keep going.”
She bowed her head and blew her cheeks out.
“Okay. We met at the University of Florida when I was a senior. He had graduated and was doing a marketing internship. Tim, he was always focused on the future, even had a master plan for building his career. He moved to Cartersville and bought a business accounting firm. I worked on my master’s in accounting at Georgia State and he finished his M.B.A. there. After I graduated, we went into partnership. Eventually, he bought a condo and we moved in together.” She could feel herself flushing. “I mean it was cheaper that way, sharing expenses and all. And I thought then we’d be married soon.”
She looked over at him. His gaze was fixed on her face.
“Go on.”
She took a breath. “But we weren’t. He said we needed to build up the business first. And after that, there were always other things to focus on, things to accomplish. By last year, we had refinanced the condo and shortened the repayment schedule, our student loans were paid off, and the retirement plans funded. I wasn’t happy we continued to just live together. I mean…” She looked away. “I understood it made sense economically not having two places, but my parents hated it. And I didn’t like things just dragging on, always waiting for him to check off some goal of his.”
“For a partnership, it sounds like he was making all the decisions.”
“He made it sound responsible, practical. I couldn’t argue with his logic. Or I didn’t, anyway.” She shrugged. “He even bought one of those Weddings for Dummies books when we finally did get engaged.”
“How romantic.”
“I was the one who wanted a nice wedding. Until he figured out people would probably be more generous about wedding gifts, if they were actually invited to the ceremony, so he agreed.”
“Mr. Practical.”
“Well, I was only planning on being married once, so I wanted it to be special. One of the girls at the office had used the Wedding Belles Bridal Salon in Rome, Georgia and recommended it.”
“How was your business doing financially at this point?”
“Fine, no problem. All our accounts were up to date and the billings were going out on schedule.”
“Tell me about the time line here.”
“We got engaged in September. I had my first appointment at Wedding Belles then. The wedding was to take place Valentine’s Day weekend. It was during tax time, but I thought it sounded romantic. Plus Tim pointed out things would be cheaper during the wedding off-season.”
“Of course.” Sarcasm dripped from his words. “So what happened?”
“He fell in love with Pammy.” She lowered her head. “She’s Albertine Hughes’ daughter, the owner of the salon, and she worked as receptionist. Tim came with me to the first appointment to talk about things. He didn’t want me taken advantage of and then, well, he kept coming back. Pammy kept him company while I was having my fittings and talking about plans for the wedding with her mom.”
“When did it become something more?”
“I don’t know.” She spread her hands wearily. “I was in the dark. I kept having to go back. I got talked into upgrading my gown and had to go in for a number of consultations with Albertine. In December, Tim started talking about postponing the wedding, not rushing into anything. I was confused. Then one day in January, I came back from an overnight consult in Macon and the locks on the condo had been changed. When I stopped in at the office, my things were there and a letter from him.”
The letter. Subconsciously, she rubbed her arms, feeling some of the chill she had back then. The typed words staring up at her from the white sheet of paper hadn’t made sense. Were they in English? Had she had some kind of stroke? Forgotten how to read? Her lungs had ached from holding her breath. But even then she had known it wasn’t a joke, some kind of nasty put-on. Deep in her core, she’d known it was real.
“A letter.” He whistled. “That’s cold.”
“He just said he had been offered a corporate position he thought he was better suited for and we both needed to move on with our lives separately. That his lawyer would contact me about dissolving the partnership. Our corporate accounts were frozen and my business credit card was cancelled. It was only later I found out his new job was working for Albertine Hughes.
