by Pat Warren
Liz searched in her bag for her lipstick just as the door swung open and Diane marched in, a vision in neon blue. Unable to escape, Liz met her eyes in the mirror.
Diane propped both clenched hands on her hips. “Well, well. If it isn’t our grieving widow. How is it that you and my husband always seem to have so much to discuss in cozy corners?” And why was it that this bitch got better looking as the years went by, while she had to struggle to keep the pounds from mounting and the gray from creeping through?
Liz didn’t need this tonight. Slowly she swung around to face Adam’s wife. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t you?” Diane’s eyes narrowed nastily. “Listen, sugar, I think it’s time you let go of your adolescent crush on Adam McKenzie. In case you haven’t noticed, he’s my husband.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed. And you’re welcome to him.” Liz put away her lipstick and stood.
Diane stepped closer. “Just what were you two talking about with your heads together behind that palm tree?”
“If you must know, we were having a difference of opinion.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Frankly, I don’t give a damn what you believe.” Liz brushed past her and walked out.
CHAPTER 17
“Your voice sounds wonderfully clear, as if you were in the next room.” Liz blinked against a rush of emotion as she pressed the phone to her ear.
“Yours, too.” Sara was bubbling over. “You should see this country, Mom. It’s fantastic. The grass is so green you’d swear someone spray-painted it. And these yellow bushes and white thorn trees are everywhere. And cows. There’s not a field without these great big black-and-white cows. I mean, right on into the center of town.”
Liz smiled. “Sounds terrific.”
“Yesterday we saw this caravan of nomads driving along this country road. They’re called tinkers, and they’ve got all their worldly possessions in their wagons. They just wander around, doing this odd job and that. Then we stopped at this pub and had a huge bowl of Irish stew and this great homemade bread.”
Liz laughed. “You’re going to get fat.”
“No, ‘cause we do a lot of walking. We toured a castle. Mom, a real live castle where descendants of Irish royalty still live. Can you imagine?”
“Then I gather you’re having a good time?” What an understatement, Liz thought.
“A marvelous time.” Sara’s voice lowered a notch. “I wish you’d have come with us. You’d love it here.”
Liz felt her throat tighten. “Maybe one day we’ll go back together.”
“And we’ll take Grandma. How is she doing?”
“Good. I keep her busy.”
“That’s good. Well, I’ve got to go. We’re going shopping in a couple of minutes. The stores are so cute. They’re all tucked into these little nooks and crannies. Not like our malls at all. And tomorrow we’re driving north.”
“Watch your budget, sweetheart.”
“I am. I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too. And please, be careful.” Emotions churning, Liz hung up. Of course, she was delighted her daughter was enjoying the trip and very glad she’d called. But hearing Sara’s voice only reminded Liz how much she missed her.
The doorbell was ringing, and she hurried to answer, dabbing at her eyes as she went. Nancy stood there in designer jeans and a navy silk blouse. Liz smiled her approval. “You look great. Been shopping?”
Nancy walked in. “Mother insisted. I let her bankroll me, but I’m going to pay her back. We also got this sensational red dress with a jacket. I’ve never owned anything like it.” She let a smile break through. “And I’ve got a job.”
“Wonderful. Where and doing what?”
“In Dr. Westmoreland’s office as a receptionist. The current one’s pregnant and leaving soon. She’s going to train me.” Nancy shrugged. “It’s not much, but it’s a start.”
Liz slid her arm around Nancy. She’d been dry for nearly two months, and Liz couldn’t be more proud. “I think it’s terrific.”
“And I’m moving into my own place. I found a rental near Balboa Park. Small, but it’ll be mine.”
“Mom will miss you.”
“I’ll still see her, but living with her… well, she’s just too Donna Reed for me, you know, Liz? She’s so terminally correct in everything. Drives me up the wall.”
Liz smiled at the accuracy of the description. “I’m sure you’ll do fine on your own.”
“I hope we can still see each other.”
“Of course we will.”
Nancy hesitated, uncertain whether to continue, then decided to jump in. “Ever since I found out about you and Adam McKenzie, I like you better, Liz. I’m more comfortable with you.”
Baffled, Liz frowned. “Why, because I’m not as perfect as you thought I was?”
“No, because you’re finally real.” Uncharacteristically, she leaned in to hug her sister. “I start my job on Monday, so today’s the last day I can work at Helping Hands. During the day, that is. I can still go some evenings and maybe an occasional weekend.”
Liz picked up her purse. “You know they’ll be glad to have you whenever you can make it. Come on, let’s go.”
In Liz’s car Nancy fastened her seat belt. “Only two weeks until eviction. Have you got any leads on a new place yet?”
Liz drove out of the circular drive, remembering her conversation with Adam just a few days ago. “No, but I’ve asked Tom Nelson to make some inquiries. He’s working on it.”
“What’ll happen if they can’t find a place in time?”
Liz ground her teeth. “I don’t know.”
Jesse Conroy still looked like a man you could trust, and he was. As California’s attorney general he considered himself the watchdog of his constituents, put into office to safeguard the voters. He was very good at ferreting out possible problems and finding solutions.
Something had come to his attention recently that had him deeply concerned, which was why he’d phoned his old friend Adam.
“Jesse,” Adam greeted him. “I missed seeing you at that fund-raiser at the Del.”
“I just got bogged down with paperwork and couldn’t spare the time.” Jesse went right to the heart of it. “One of my guys thinks he’s spotted a potential problem. I’m sure you’re aware, since you’ve been meeting with Jim McCaffrey and Len Davis, that McCaffrey-Davis has been granted several government contracts through the years to produce planes. The most recent batch was T-38’s shipped to air force bases all over the country to be used for training pilots. We’ve gotten wind of a defective part.”
Adam leaned back on his desk chair. “What kind of a defect?”
“Without going into technical detail, let me just say that our expert says that it’s a circuitry connection that could cause an explosion if certain circumstances were all present. You understand I said could cause, not necessarily will cause.”
“But your man thinks the possibility of an explosion exists?”
“Yeah, he does.”
“Then we need to notify McCaffrey to initiate a recall so they can test and repair or replace the defective part.”
“Yes, that’s what I thought, too, which is what we did. Only the top brass at McCaffrey denies any defect. They sent my office this thirty-page report detailing their tests, and they say they’re absolutely satisfied there’s no danger.”
Adam toyed with his pen thoughtfully. “So what would your best guess be on this?”
“That we’ve stumbled onto a possible cover-up. Recalls are very expensive. But here’s the kicker. Do you know what senator okayed the government contract for those planes? None other than Palmer Ames when he was chairman of the Armed Forces Committee.”
Adam ran a hand over his face. Surely Palmer wasn’t in on something shady. Had he sent Adam to meet with McCaffrey and Davis on purpose, to keep his own connection under wraps? Adam tossed down his pen and leaned forward, elbows on his
desk. “I’d like you to investigate this thoroughly, Jesse, and give me a complete report as soon as possible. If there is a cover-up under way and Palmer’s involved, it’s going to really hit the fan this close to election.”
“That’s why I called you.”
“How long before you could have that report?”
“A week, ten days at the most.”
“I appreciate your coming to me on this. Rest assured, if there is a problem with those planes, I’ll personally see to a recall.”
In Sacramento Jesse leaned back, relaxing. Some things never changed, and he was glad. “I know you will. I’ll be in touch.”
“Right. Thanks, Jesse.” Adam stared at the phone, wondering if his early suspicions about Palmer’s basic integrity were about to be tested. The phone rang again, and he picked it up.
Five minutes later he hung up smiling. Finally another old friend had come through. He buzzed his secretary as he stood and began to pack his briefcase.
“Yes, Senator?” Anne’s soft voice came over the intercom.
“Anne, please call Senator Ames and let him know that I’ll be able to meet with the coalition of western governors in San Diego tomorrow after all. Also, notify the California governor’s office that I’ll sit in on tomorrow night’s dinner meeting. Then get me a reservation on the very next flight out to San Diego. Order the car, please, and get my wife on the phone.” As efficient as she was, he knew Anne would take care of everything smoothly. He had a rare opportunity to please Palmer and take care of a personal matter at the same time. By the time he’d finished shoving all he thought he’d need into his case, she was buzzing him back.
“Your flight’s at two-ten from Dulles, arriving at San Diego at four-thirty, with the three-hour time change. The car’s on its way, and Mrs. McKenzie isn’t at home. Would you know where I might reach her?”
“I’ll leave a message on our answering machine. Thanks, Anne.” He clicked off and picked up the phone. But the number he dialed wasn’t his home.
“Hello?” Liz Fairchild answered.
“Liz, it’s Adam. I need a favor.”
She paused, remembering that they hadn’t parted amicably their last encounter. “What might that be?”
He heard the hesitancy in her voice and couldn’t blame her. He was about to take care of her doubts. “I need you to pick me up at the airport at four-thirty. I also need you to not ask any questions right now, please.”
She frowned. This was decidedly not like Adam. She knew that if he were flying in, he could get a limo, a cab, or an aide to pick him up in a minute. However, he was not a man who played games. Therefore she’d go along—this time. “All right.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you for trusting me. You won’t be sorry.” He gave her the flight information. “See you shortly.”
He had two more calls to make. A message for Diane that would undoubtedly piss her off royally and a quick chat with Fitz to let him know that his plans had changed. Before he could pick up the phone again, Anne buzzed him.
“Senator Ames isn’t in, but I left your message with his secretary. If you need to speak with him, I could have him paged.”
Adam didn’t want to talk to Palmer just now, not until he got Jesse’s report and took care of something else even more important. “No thanks, Anne. I’m in a bit of a rush.” As soon as she clicked off, he picked up the phone. Feeling more in control of his life than he had in years, Adam dialed his brother’s office.
“I see you gave up convertibles,” Adam commented as he placed his bag and briefcase into the trunk of Liz’s BMW. He’d picked up a small manila envelope left for him at the airline counter and slipped it into his pocket.
“Yes, some time ago.” She watched him toss his suit coat in after his luggage, followed by his tie. He looked oddly relaxed for Adam, almost happy. More like the old Adam, the one she’d known years ago, right here in San Diego.
“May I drive?”
She handed him her keys and got in on the passenger side. “You’re certainly being mysterious.”
Adam started the car and headed for the parking lot exit. “I understand women are fascinated by men of mystery.” He sent her a smiling glance and saw she was looking straight ahead.
“Is that a fact?” What was she doing, Liz asked herself, all alone on a sunny afternoon, heading for an unknown destination with a man who could charm the birds out of the trees?
“That’s what I’ve heard.” He swung out of the lot and headed south toward Highway 5, then turned to look at her. Her white slacks and red silk blouse with tiny pearl buttons were as elegant as she herself was. Her auburn hair came just to her shoulders, and small gold hoop earrings glinted when she moved. She was all that he’d ever wanted and everything he’d let slip through his fingers. “I don’t recall ever seeing you wear red before.”
Liz glanced at her blouse. “Molly talked me into it.” She usually chose pastels, but she had to admit she liked herself in certain shades of red.
“How’s your mother?”
For the next few minutes, as they merged with traffic, he questioned her about her mother, about Nancy, and even about Sara. Choosing her words carefully, Liz told him that her mother was doing well and that her sister seemed finally to be getting her life on track, then described Sara’s excited phone call from Ireland.
“Sara sounds as if she’s a lot like you, although she doesn’t resemble you much.”
He would pick up on that again. “Sara takes after my mother’s side of the family,” she told him again. “How’s Diane?”
A frown came, unbidden. “Let’s talk about her later. You know, our conversation that night at the Del and the way you left so abruptly made me rethink a lot of things.”
Liz toyed with the leather strap of her bag. “I probably should apologize for that. I have to keep in mind that you’re running for vice president and that your time isn’t your own. I’m surprised you’re back in California so soon.”
“I have a dinner meeting I must attend tomorrow evening at the Del. And, for the record, you don’t owe me an apology. Liz, you and I have had our differences, and years when we haven’t even seen each other, but we’ve always been honest. Right?”
Except she hadn’t been honest with him once, regarding something very important. Someone very important. “We try, I guess,” she answered lamely. “So what conclusions did you come to in rethinking things?”
Adam exited at Market Street and turned west before answering. “That through the years, I’ve taken a few wrong turns.”
“Which means?”
“Made a few mistakes.”
Liz brushed back a loose strand of hair. “Oh, Adam, who hasn’t?”
“No one, I suppose. But I’ve come to realize lately that when you wake up, you need to do what you can to rectify those mistakes, to put your life back on course.” After veering to the left, he turned onto Twelfth Street, then eased into a wide driveway halfway down the block. “You need to stop looking at the forest and instead see the trees.” Shifting into park, he squinted through the windshield. “Just look at all the trees.”
She’d been so engrossed in their conversation that she hadn’t noticed where they were, Liz realized. She knew they were in a section that had been undergoing some renovations but still had a long way to go. A large three-story house stood at the back of the deep, wide lot, dotted with more than a dozen trees. She saw purple jacaranda and oleander bushes, fragrant eucalyptus, and white and pink bougainvillea trailing up a fence that listed to starboard. The trees grew wild and needed pruning but were still beautiful.
Yet it was the house itself that stood out. It had been painted a bright green some years ago, and although the paint had peeled off in patches, the brilliant color was still evident in a late afternoon sun. The roof was black and gabled and probably leaked. Some of the windows were broken, and others were thick with dust. Dark green shutters hung precariously, and two lay on the ground. The gray wooden por
ch sagged, but the front door was painted a cheerful red.
Liz turned to Adam and found him watching her intently. “What is this?”
“Greentrees,” he answered, grinning.
“Greentrees,” she repeated. “I don’t understand.”
He took the envelope from his pocket and removed two keys on a ring. “It’s yours. Yours and the other folks at Helping Hands.”
Liz’s dark eyes grew wide. “You mean it?”
His smile widened. “Absolutely. Free and clear, including the land, nearly an acre. Yours—lock, stock, and barrel.”
She couldn’t help herself. She threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, Adam. Thank you, thank you!” Not just for the house, but for coming through.
He held her, closing his eyes, inhaling the remembered fragrance of her hair. His arms tightened, and a feeling awakened inside him such as he hadn’t known in years. Pleasure. Pure, unadulterated pleasure.
Excitement bubbling within her, Liz pulled back. “Can we look around?”
“Of course.” Reluctantly he let her go and went with her, stepping gingerly onto the rickety porch. “It’s far from perfect, I know.”
“It’s wonderful. How’d you manage it?”
Having taken the keys from her, he maneuvered one into the old lock. “I convinced an old friend, Roger Tremaine, that donating Greentrees—which, by the way, was once a proud old house owned by his ninety-two-year-old aunt— would give Helping Hands a big boost and Roger a big tax deduction. There’s also a grant, donated by several political buddies who owe me favors, to be used for renovations and a skeleton staff until you can get into some serious fund-raising.”
He’d been surprised at how easy it had been once he’d thought it through and decided to act. A few phone calls, half an hour of his time, and a couple of old markes called in. The look on Liz’s face was more than worth the trouble, to say nothing of how much the house would mean to so many once it was renovated.
Adam pushed open the door and heard the hinges squeak a protest, then turned to see her staring up at him, her dark eyes glowing and oddly pensive. “What?”
