Above Temptation

by Karin Kallmaker

  Like that’s going to happen, she scolded herself. Why would Tam come back here? Tam had a life to go return to, and so did she. Well, what passed for a life, she thought. There was nothing in it like walking in the snow with Tam. She loved her job but the past week had reminded her she loved other things too.

  “So what is it you’re thinking we can do?” She buckled up after making herself comfortable in the seat for the long drive. Even without stops, it was nearly four hours to Lake Oswego.

  “Not so mysterious. Even if we get to Boise by mid-morning, it’ll take the rest of the day to get to Miami. On Monday morning we can book a short cruise at the last-minute excursion agent at the port. They will be screening for known no-fly names and persons of interest, and that’s not us. The paperwork doesn’t get processed for another day or two and customs at the port is not exactly rigorous. Honest, they’re focused on people carrying out cash and bringing back too much duty-free cigarettes and rum. Given the new big casino in Nassau, they’re actually not all that concerned with aliases as long as cash isn’t being moved. It brings in huge taxes and lots of tourism through the port.”

  “Won’t it take a couple of days to get there? I’m sketchy on the geography.” Kip knew islands sat off the Florida coast, but that was about it.

  “We’ll be in port Tuesday morning, pretty early. I’d rather it was Monday morning, but the only way that happens is by air.”

  “Okay—have you done a cruise before?”

  “Years ago. A friend and I did it for fun, in college.”

  Kip couldn’t help her curiosity. Besides, with nothing but the dark night out the car window, what else was there to do but talk? “Was it?”

  “Fun? Sure.” Tam was plainly smiling at the recollection. “Nadia loved it.”

  “Nadia? The same Nadia…?” Kip wondered why Tam didn’t just say “girlfriend” or “ex”—everybody knew about them.

  “Yeah. We met in college and an island getaway was one of the fun things we did. Then she met Ted and I was the maid of honor in a dress I’d otherwise not be caught dead in.”

  Sounded like Nadia Langhorn had done the Lesbian Until Graduation thing. Yet, there wasn’t any rancor or forced nonchalance in Tam’s tone.

  Kip wanted to ask about why both Tam and Nadia had such odd childhood records, but she knew Tam would just shut down. Instead, she said, “On Monday, when I was visiting banks—that seems like ages ago now. Anyway, I ran into my ex. We’re kind of moving out of the resentment stage. She had reason to be peeved. She thought moving in would give us more time together, but I was just as busy and unavailable as before, and meeting up in bed every night fizzled after the first few weeks. I let my hours get even longer and it unraveled. I don’t blame her for being upset. I’m glad she’s getting over it—she’s even getting married.”

  “Do you think that’s in the future for you?”

  “It’s only recently become an option for us,” Kip said slowly. She wasn’t going to admit that until this week the thought of marriage hadn’t seriously crossed her mind. “I knew early on I wanted a career, and a demanding one. My grandfather was a rarity—happily married in his line of work. I didn’t see how romance and that life could mix for a woman. I got through high school without giving boys so much as a glance, and it wasn’t until college that I realized there was another reason they didn’t interest me. And with a girl there still didn’t seem to be a likely white picket fence thing. No marriage available, for one thing. And the Justice Department may not have an official Don’t-Ask-Don’t-Tell going on, but being out and proud wasn’t exactly favored behavior. It was easier to do without.”

  “Nobody worth pushing at the limitations?” Tam now sounded too casual.

  Kip tried to keep her smile out of her voice. “Nobody at all. A few dates, the occasional, um, sleepover, so to speak. I got on well with Meena, but never saw the U-Haul she had half-packed on our first date. She was looking to settle down. I was a mistake.” Kip added, “I’m glad to see her happy.”

  Tam lapsed into silence after that, and Kip considered that she’d explained her entire sex life to Tam pretty succinctly, yet she wouldn’t have said until she did that it was so simple. Nobody worth changing her other plans for. She stared at her dim reflection in the window. Had she followed the rules all her life because she’d not had a reason to do otherwise?

  And now she did? Calmly and coolly planning to acquire fake identification, travel by plane without a manifest, walk through a security screening, even lie to a customs agent? It was all serious stuff, and yet the combined risks were worth it. She wasn’t fooling herself that she had some future with Tam.

  * * *

  Kip seemed contentedly quiet, leaving Tam to watch the road and the gas gauge. Her own thoughts were far from restful. Part of her was preoccupied with the next few days and where she wanted to end up: with the original application of that damned bank account in her control and with answers from her contact in Nassau about opening the account to begin with. She badly wanted to put faces on her adversaries.

  She wished, though, she could let the rest of her relax and enjoy the company of a lovely, interesting woman. Ask more questions, learn more about her past. But that was a two-way street. She’d had the feeling that Kip really wanted to know more about Nadia, and the past that Nadia and she clearly shared.

  “Is this where you were thinking we could get suitcases?” She slowed and turned into a department store lot. The giant K wasn’t lit. The store looked about sixty years old, a relic she was willing to bet had an unbeatable selection of camping and fishing gear.

  “Yes—we’ll find something.”

  Tam went along with it when Kip pointed out some utilitarian cargo shorts, swimsuits and basic tank tops. There wasn’t any warm-weather appropriate footwear, but airport stores carried a lot of useful items, she supposed.

  Back on the road, they were mostly silent, though comparing thoughts on movies provided some distraction for a while. She was flattered that at one point Kip dozed off. In spite of her protests, Tam was pretty sure Kip no longer thought of her as a suspect. She didn’t want to get Kip into trouble, but everything was a shade of gray. They weren’t doing what they were planning to further a crime, and that counted. If they got the proof they needed, and she was able to snatch the money back from wherever it had been forwarded, their technical violations would probably go unprosecuted. Tam didn’t fear that part of it. If, however, they were stopped trying to get to Nassau it was a completely different matter. Then it looked like—just as Kip said—they were fleeing the country as part of other crimes. The day aboard ship, waiting to see what greeted her when they docked in Nassau, would be agonizing.

  Kip murmured something in her sleep and Tam couldn’t help but glance over at her, admiring the shadows cast by her lashes. It would also be torturous to share a tiny cabin with Kip.

  * * *

  Just south of Portland she shook Kip gently. “I need directions. The turnoff to Lake Oswego is coming up.”

  Kip scrubbed at her eyes. “Take that one, and then we bear east. It seemed pretty easy to find. I had the weirdest dream. I kept trying to call in sick on Monday and every time Emilio answered his phone he spoke a language I didn’t understand. I would say I have the flu and he’d say fram-a-stat or warble-missha or something like that.”

  “Sounds like a typical anxiety dream. Or a warning from the beyond to speak in tongues.”

  Kip laughed. “I suppose. Turn right at the next signal. I do need to call in, though. I’ll keep it very short, from a land line. The flu seems like a good, transparent excuse.”

  “Seems to be working for Ted.”

  “And left here—she said it was an urban tasting room. Very Gen X, I gather.”

  The headlights swept over a building that looked more like a garden nursery than a wine shop. The sign in the door read Closed, but the light was on over the parking lot. They pulled in next to a stolid Volvo, not far from a side door into the
premises. All in all, Tam thought it was the most unlikely looking spot to pick up a fake ID.

  Kip glanced at Tam. “This will be like every other ID photo I’ve ever had taken. I always look like I’ve just gotten off a five-day bender.”

  Several inappropriate things came to mind, but Tam said none of them. “Official photos are cursed.”

  The door opened and a woman, half in shadow, leaned out. “Barrett?”

  Kip got out of the car. “Yes. And my friend.”

  “Come on in.”

  Once they were inside Tam paused to look around, making sure they were alone and assuaging her general curiosity. The tasting room was lush with plants and a curved brass and oak bar gleamed in the low light. The faint, fresh aroma of wine mingled with cheese and toasted nuts. In spite of the mountain of food she’d consumed already that day, her stomach made it clear that she would not gag on a nice malbec with a platter of antipasto.

  Their silent guide led them through the tasting room to a well-organized storage and shipping area. A center table held empty boxes and both walls were lined with stacks of wooden crates. At the far end a computer monitor glowed.

  The woman snapped on an overhead light when they reached the computer station. “You said you’d have cash.”

  Tam was taken aback by her first good look at their unlikely accomplice. She was cheekily attractive with a shock of short bright red hair and a pert nose over a sideways smile that warned of attitude. Gaydar instantly pinged—clearly a Sapphic Sister, as Kip’s contact had said.

  “Yes,” Kip answered. “I didn’t get your name.”

  “That’s because I didn’t tell you.”

  “I’d rather not call you Hey There, or Fake-ID-Lady.”

  “So call me Glenn.”

  “Okay, Glenn. Yes, we brought cash.”

  “The photos are fifty bucks each.”

  Tam frowned. But before she could voice her skepticism, “Glenn” pulled two plastic cards out of her back pocket.

  “These are a thousand each. And yes, that’s more than I paid, and no I didn’t give you any kind of family discount. We live in a capitalist world and God Bless America.”

  They were still getting off cheaply, Tam thought, so she reached into her pocket and counted out the bills.

  “Alrighty, step right this way.”

  A small side room was draped with white sheets, though several black sheets were slung over a chair. A covered pedestal held a trio of fluted wineglasses and a vase with roses, somewhat past their bloom. The featured wine was in a bottle with obviously feminine curves, and Tam couldn’t help but smile.

  Glenn set up a backdrop of watery industrial blue and switched on a large fluorescent lamp. She gestured at Kip.

  “You first.”

  Kip delivered an anxious smile for the camera, which made Tam grin. The lighting robbed Kip of most of her coloring. When her turn came she tried for a squint and scowl.

  “So while I check the photos and adjust the size, you guys should type out these details.” Glenn pointed at the screen. “Name, address, date of birth, all that jazz. Don’t make any typos.”

  “She’s kind of cute,” Tam whispered as Glenn left them alone.

  “The apple did not fall far from the tree in their family. Aside from the red hair, she looks a lot like her brother, except it all looks better on her. Where are we going to say we’re from?”

  Tam was busy typing. “I picked a non-existent street address in Boise. I think we should use our existing birthdays so we don’t get tripped up on our age, and for names…” She gestured at the screen for Kip to take a look.

  She punched Tam in the arm. “I am not going to be Gracie Lou Freebush.”

  “Oh fine, I thought it suited you.”

  Kip glowered with mock offense and watched as Tam turned her into Pippa Merritt. “That’s better. Pamela Curling?”

  “Better chance of reacting to names that rhyme.”

  Glenn returned to shoo them back into the tasting room. “This is going to take me about thirty minutes. There’s six laminate layers and the security strip. Go out there and wait for me.”

  Kip perched on one of the stools at the bar, and propped up her head by leaning heavily on one hand. She looked as tired as Tam felt. “There was an inn with a vacancy sign back toward the freeway. Do you want to stay there?”

  Tam agreed. “How do you suppose someone who makes wine also does, um, creative photography?”

  “Do you suppose the wine is good?”

  Glenn’s voice floated out of the back. “None of your business and yes, it’s very good.”

  Kip snickered. “It’s incongruous, isn’t it? I mean, I’d be happy to sit here on a sunny day and see if I might like wine, one kind or another. Instead, I’m waiting for a fake ID and that’s about the last thing I would have said I’d ever do.”

  “We’ll come back, then, to sample the wine. Would you like to, really? You don’t drink…” Tam studied Kip’s face.

  “I’ve nothing against alcohol in general. I have a problem with it when it’s near my father.”

  “That must have been tough as a kid.”

  “He wasn’t around very much to make it tough.”

  Tam wondered if Kip’s exhaustion was why she was so much easier to read. Her expression was nostalgic and just a bit sad. “What are you thinking about?”

  “My grandfather. And my father. They didn’t get on, as you can imagine. But whenever my father came back and swore he’d changed, my grandfather tried, I think, to forget the past. But it always fell apart and my father would be gone for longer and longer periods. When I was seven he left for five years, after…”

  Tam waited for more, watching a ghost of a wry smile pass over Kip’s lips.

  “He was supposed to pick me and Kim up from school. I went to the car and Kim was already in it. She was in kindergarten I think. I don’t know what I knew, or thought I knew, but I told Kim to get out of the car and come sit with me at the curb. She finally listened to me, the whole time my father was telling me to get in so we could go home. So Kim and I sat on the curb for what seemed like forever. What I remember most vividly is that my father sat in the car crying. I felt awful. I had made him cry, but I didn’t want Kim to be in the car with him. Eventually my grandfather showed up and I guess I forever became grandpa’s little girl, because he squeezed me hard and told me to stop crying, that nothing Daddy did was about me. Daddy was crying because he was ashamed to be drunk. I didn’t understand then, but it left a big mark. That and my grandfather telling me I’d done a wonderful job of protecting my sister. Kim will tell you that I’ve never stopped.”

  Touched, Tam pictured Kip as a serious little girl. “That was really brave of you. You were so young.”

  “I don’t know what went through my mind. Maybe I smelled the liquor and knew that whenever I smelled it my mother was also crying.”

  “It’s a powerful trigger, the sense of smell.”

  Kip nodded. She looked so unguarded that Tam wondered how she had ever thought Kip was complicated—or humorless.

  Her gaze sharpened in the next moment, not a lot, but Tam could see the wheels of Kip’s mind turning. “I’ve told you a lot about me. Tell me something about you as a girl. I don’t know a thing. You grew up in Germany. I’ve been there several times on business.”

  Tam strove for a neutral smile. “I remember nothing to speak of.” Truthful, and exactly what she had been trained to say.

  “What was your favorite food? Who was your first crush?”

  “I’ve always liked apple fritters and I was smitten with a teacher at boarding school at the old age of seventeen. Miss Dunham had a girlfriend. My classmates were shocked and I was relieved that I wasn’t the only one who liked girls way better than boys.”

  “That was here in this country?”

  She nodded. Kip’s lips parted and the question was there, Tam knew it. The awkward and somewhat irrational fear in the pit of her stomach threatened
to blossom, but Kip only looked at her for a long, intense moment. Tam relaxed and the fear subsided. What was there to reveal that Kip, of all people, wouldn’t understand? Nobody picks their blood kin.

  Kip put her head down on the bar with a sleepy murmur, leaving Tam the freedom to study her without fear of being caught in the act.

  Glenn emerged from the back room with a bang of the door.

  Kip sat bolt upright, then looked sheepish. “Sorry, must have dozed off.”

  “It’s okay.” Tam gave Glenn her attention.

  “These are done. Got it right the first try. I set the issue date back as far as possible. Idaho didn’t have magnetic strips on the back at that time, but don’t go getting yourselves pulled over.”

  “We won’t be driving anywhere.”

  “Thank you,” Kip said after she’d examined her new persona under the light. “This is good work.”

  “I have a bonus item for you,” Glenn added. “It’s another two hundred for both of them.”

  Puzzled, Tam took the cards Glenn handed her. They were cut from plain manila-colored card stock. In plain lettering it purported to be a Voter Registration Card from Ada County, Idaho. The names and addresses Tam had concocted were listed.

  “Well, there’s a walking felony,” she muttered.

  Glenn rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s the worst thing I’ve done all day. Just don’t try to use it to vote.”

  “But what good—” Kip fell silent at Tam’s gesture.

  Tam had no problem handing over more cash. She should have thought of the need for proof of citizenship, but explaining the necessity to Kip would mean Glenn hearing their plans. “Thanks. Obviously, we’ve not had a lot of practice at this.”

  “Amateurs scare me.” Glenn pocketed the bills. “So time for you to go now.”

  They were out in the chilly parking lot with Glenn’s parting, “Come back when you want some fantastic wine” ringing in their ears.