The Escape Artist

by Diane Chamberlain

  "I'm sorry," she said. "It must be a terrible reminder."

  "Are you okay, Adam?" Jessie asked. Her own eyes were red.

  "Well, I'm in better shape tonight than that guy in the picture," he said.

  "Why the hell did she have her kids with her in an office building?" Jessie asked.

  "Maybe she'd just picked them up from day care," Kim suggested, "or maybe someone dropped them off. Do they have any idea who's behind it? Was it another express mail package, by any chance?"

  "Yeah, it was," Jessie said. "That's what I heard on the radio."

  Adam shoved the pizza box away from him as if he couldn't bear the smell any longer. "I think I've gotta turn in," he said, standing up. "Sorry, Kim. I'm falling rapidly into my 'life sucks' mood." He tried unsuccessfully to smile.

  "I understand," she said. She started to get to her feet, but he held her down with a hand on her shoulder.

  "No need for you to run off. You and Jessie can stay here and visit. I just need to…" He didn't finish his sentence. Instead, he merely shrugged and turned toward the stairs.

  Impulsively, Kim got to her feet and put her arms around him. He returned the gesture in a restrained hug, and Kim was keenly aware of Jessie's presence in the room. Maybe it was Jessie's comforting he needed right now? She let go of him and saw that Jessie's concerned brown eyes were indeed glued to her brother's face. She should leave. This was a family pain she'd stumbled into.

  "I really want to go," she said, and this time neither of them objected. They didn't say a word to her as she walked up the stairs to Liam's old room. While she was getting Cody out of bed, she heard the door to Adam's room close, then heard it open again as Jessie softly followed her brother inside.

  Kim's eyes lit on the photograph of Liam on the night table, and before she knew what had hit her, she was crying. She couldn't have said if it was Adam and Jessie's loss she was crying over or the tragedy she'd just witnessed on TV, but she hugged her sleeping son to her chest and let the tears flow.

  Downstairs, Adam's house was quiet and dark, and she closed the front door quietly behind her as she left. Cody slept all the way home, and Kim climbed the stairs to her own dark apartment with her son a heavy, dead-to-the-world weight in her arms.

  She lowered him into his crib, then got into her own bed. There was something discomforting gnawing at the edge of her mind. She couldn't quite get a grasp on it, not until she had lain there, staring at the ceiling, for more than half an hour. Then it hit her.

  She got out of bed and rummaged in her lingerie drawer until she found the disc containing the file the previous owner had left on her computer. She turned on the computer, inserted the disk and called up the information on it. That odd list filled the screen again, and there it was: Sellers, Sellers, and Wittaker, 5588 Duke of Gloucester Street, Annapolis, every damn day of the year. Use October 17, 2 p.m., (so all will be there) .

  October 17. Today's date. And when had the bomb gone off? Hadn't the reporter said two o'clock, or was her imagination simply flying out of control?

  Her hands were shaking as she looked at the previous name on the list. Katherine Nabors, 448 Labrador Lane, Annapolis, 47, 2 children, 2 adults, September 27, 8:30 a.m., home.

  Labrador Lane. She was certain that was the name of the street where the previous bombing had occurred, but she did not know the name of the woman who had been the victim of that explosion. It couldn't be this Katherine Nabors. It simply couldn't be. It was unimaginable that the list in her computer could have anything to do with the carnage that was striking Annapolis.

  There were eight other people and businesses on the list. Kim printed the file in its entirety, set it on her desk, and tried to put it out of her mind so she could fall asleep. It wasn't so much those names that haunted her as she drifted off, though, as the white- jawed pain in Adam's face.

  She skipped coffee on the porch the following morning, telling Lucy she had to start her work early. That was the truth. She needed to get a good start on her typing for the day, because as soon as the library opened, she planned to be there.

  She intentionally drove past the office of Sellers, Sellers, and Wittaker on her way to the library. It took her in the wrong direction, but she needed to see the destruction for herself. The front of the office building was blackened and police tape was stretched around the perimeter. Several people stood on the sidewalk, gawking at the wreckage.

  In the library, she found a picture book to keep Cody occupied while she sorted through back issues of the local newspaper until she found the edition for September 28. The article she dreaded finding leaped out at her from the front page: WOMAN KILLED IN EXPLOSION. There was a picture of the house on Labrador Lane, with its sagging front porch and pretty garden, and beneath it the caption: Katherine Nabors, 47, was killed by a bomb left in a package outside her front door.

  The room began to spin, and Kim closed her eyes. By some bizarre twist of fate, she had a hit list on her hands. But why these people? Why a housewife and a law firm? And what was the meaning of the 2 children, 2 adults, the every damn day of the year? Who were the other people on the list? How could she warn them? What on earth was she going to do?

  She could hardly go to the police with the list. There would be far too many questions and far too much explaining to do, and that would put a quick end to her low profile. But she couldn't simply ignore the information, either.

  The next name on the list was that of a man. Ryan Geary, 770 Pioneer Way, Annapolis, 51, elderly couple, November 13, 9 p.m.

  November 13. She had nearly a month to figure out what to do. Maybe she could write anonymously to the local newspaper. Would the authorities have some way of tracing a letter? The television images of that young mother and her two small children filled her head. If only she'd made the connection before. If only she'd recognized that address on Labrador Lane as having been on the list in her computer, maybe she could have somehow prevented that tragedy. It was frightening to think that the previous owner of her computer might be a calculating murderer, and she was suddenly relieved that Computer Wizard had not cared enough to inform him that she had stumbled across his files.

  She checked out a few books for Cody and then drove to the city dock to eat a take-out lunch on her favorite bench above the water. Usually an hour by the water calmed her, but this afternoon nothing could ease her anxiety. She gave up trying to eat, throwing away most of the fish and chips she'd bought, then began pushing the stroller aimlessly around town. She was not anxious to go home to her computer.

  She took Cody to the park on her way home, so it was nearly five by the time she finally turned onto her street. She'd lost a day of work and would have to call Adam to tell him she wouldn't be over that night for her lesson because she had to catch up on her typing. But Adam was already there, sitting on the top porch step, and she was immediately flooded with the desire to tell him about the computer and the list of names. She wanted to tell him everything, but knew she could tell him nothing.

  "Hi," she called as she pushed Cody up the walk.

  "Hi." Adam didn't get up from his seat on the stairs. "I've been waiting for you."

  "We took a long walk." She stopped the stroller at the bottom of the stairs and lifted Cody out of it.

  "Let me take that for you." Adam reached for the stroller and collapsed it with the quick action of a man who had raised two children through the stroller stage. Then he looked her squarely in the eye. "I'm sorry about last night," he said.

  "Don't apologize. I know that news report upset you."

  "Well," he said, "you're very understanding."

  She knew instantly that something was different about Adam. There was a new tenderness in his smile, and he didn't seem to want to take his eyes from her face. He rested his hand on her back as she passed him to go into the house, and she knew as surely as if he'd told her, that he was falling in love with her. She didn't know whether to be flattered or afraid.

  Once they were in her apa
rtment, she heated Cody's dinner and settled the little boy in his high chair. "I was going to call you," she said to Adam. "I have to work tonight, so I was going to cancel our lesson."

  "I was going to cancel our lesson too." Adam sat down at the minuscule kitchen table. "I was going to cancel because I wanted to see you tonight, but not over a canvas and paints. And not with Jessie around."

  She winced at his openness, his willingness to be vulnerable, when she was allowing herself to be anything but. She sat next to Cody and slipped a spoonful of carrots into the baby's mouth before responding.

  ''Adam," she said finally, deciding to be as frank as she was able, "I think I'd better tell you that I'm in love with someone."

  He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Ah," he said, as if that explained everything.

  "I mean …" She fed Cody another spoonful. "It's confusing. Hard to explain. I doubt very much that I'll ever see him again. I left him behind when I moved here, and our relationship is over. But he's still… in my heart. You need to know that."

  "You mean…Are you talking about your ex-husband?"

  "No. Someone else."

  "What was the problem? Was he married?"

  "No. Nothing like that. We both just knew it wasn't meant to be." Her chest tightened with the lie.

  "Well, I'm glad you told me." Adam picked up a napkin from the table and wiped a carrot spill from the edge of Cody's high chair tray. "And it's all right. I don't think my feelings are very trustworthy these days, anyhow. All I know is that I think about you a lot. And when I do, I feel very…happy." He smiled. "It's been a long time since I've felt happy, so I'd like to enjoy it for awhile, if you don't mind. Jessie says it's too soon for me to…really care about anyone. She says I can't trust what I'm feeling for you."

  "I think she's right," Kim said. "I don't think either of us is ready to get involved right now."

  Adam crumpled the napkin in his hand. "It's just that… I keep thinking about the way you reacted to the news of that bombing last night," he said. "It hurt you to the core, I could tell. You're a very kind-hearted person."

  She studied Cody's plate, an unshakable guilt weighing her down, as if she herself had been responsible for the explosion.

  "Well, listen," Adam said with a sigh. "How about I make you dinner?"

  "I don't have a thing in the house," she said.

  "Oh, I bet I can find something. You go ahead and get Cody ready for bed and I'll whip something up."

  It was obvious he had no intention of leaving, and Kim gave up on the idea of getting any work done that night. It was a relief, actually, to have an excuse to avoid the computer. With its unsavory past life, the computer suddenly felt like a tainted presence in her home.

  She gave Cody a bath and read him one of the library books before putting him to bed. By the time she returned to the kitchen, Adam had created a dinner of black beans, rice, frozen green beans, and chopped tomatoes. He'd arranged a plateful for each of them, and the stark contrast of colors made the food look like one of his paintings.

  After dinner, Adam tuned her radio to a station that played one slow, sensuous song after another. She danced with him, well aware of his gentle attempt at seduction. She could feel his need to hold and be held, and she gave into it, realizing after a time that it was her need as well. She was hungry for closeness, and when he tipped her head back to kiss her, she responded in spite of herself.

  "I want to stay over," Adam said into her hair.

  Her head was on his shoulder and she closed her eyes with the effort of choosing her answer. She wanted him to stay. He felt so warm beneath her arms. So solid. Linc had spoiled her. She could not do without intimacy for very long. She wanted to accept it now, even in this less perfect form, but she was afraid of hurting Adam in the process.

  "I'd like you to stay," she said, "but—"

  "I know. You've been honest about the other guy. I'm not asking you to feel something for me that you don't."

  They danced a while longer and then moved easily to her bedroom, where Cody was sleeping soundly in his crib. They undressed each other as they stood by the side of the bed, and Kim was surprised by her level of comfort. She trusted Adam. His kisses were tender and sweet, his touch on her skin warm and exciting. It was she who drew back the covers on the bed and pulled him down next to her, and his hunger for her was matched by her own for him as they began to make love. It wasn't until he was inside her that she thought of Linc. Once the image of Linc's face was in front of her, she couldn't rid herself of it. Adam's gentle, skillful movements were lost on her, and by the time he had finished and was lying quietly next to her, she was in tears.

  She was glad it was too dark for him to see the misery in her face. She wanted to speak, to say something kind and loving, but she knew her voice would fail her if she tried.

  Adam put his arm around her and gave her a hug. "Are you all right?" he asked.

  "Fine." She pressed her fist to her mouth to hold in her crying. She wanted Linc to be the man lying next to her. She'd wanted Linc to be her lover for the rest of her life.

  "You made me feel wonderful," Adam said. "You completely cleared my head of anything negative."

  "I'm glad." She quietly wiped her eyes with the sheet, then raised her head to kiss him before snuggling close to him for the night. She would try to clear her own head as well.

  Adam was already awake when she opened her eyes in the morning, and he was watching her.

  "Where's your sketchbook?" he asked. "You need to sketch your dreams."

  She groaned. "I told you, I don't remember my dreams."

  "Before you go to sleep at night, you should tell yourself that you will remember them." He stroked her hair back from her forehead, and she felt affection in his touch.

  "All right," she said. "I'll try it tonight."

  She looked over at the crib where Cody was still sound asleep, a splash of sunlight shimmering on his blanket. Then she looked at Adam and felt a smile form, unsolicited, on her lips. To her surprise, she was not at all unhappy to wake up with him beside her.

  They ate breakfast—toast and orange juice—at her small kitchen table.

  "Jessie's going to be upset," Adam said as he poured himself a second glass of juice.

  Kim knew he was alluding to the fact that he'd spent the night at her apartment. "Do you have to answer to Jessie for everything?" she asked, as she untied Cody's bib from around his neck.

  "She worries about me, that's all. And she's had good reason to. I need to convince her that I'm okay and I know what I'm doing." Adam reached across the table for her hand. "Thanks again for your honesty last night," he said. "For telling me about…you know, the other guy."

  She smiled, but said nothing. She deserved no praise for her honesty.

  "Well." He let go of her hand and stood up. "I'd better let you do the work you were supposed to do last night."

  She walked him to the door, and as she kissed him good-bye, she tried not to regret anything she'd done the night before.

  Except for one short walk to the park with Cody, Kim spent the entire day at the computer. Every once in a while, the television images of the bombing swept into her mind, and panic rose in her chest at the thought of what she knew about that catastrophe. She'd brush the thoughts away, telling herself she had time to figure out what to do with the information. Still, those images kept barreling their way into consciousness each time she let down her guard.

  She put Cody to bed around seven that evening and was sitting once again at the computer when she heard the slamming of a car door. She looked out the window to see a police car parked at the curb and a male police officer on the walk leading up to the house.

  She jumped up from her seat and switched out the overhead light before returning to the window to see the man disappear beneath her onto the porch. She thought she could feel the vibrations of his steps on the floor of the porch, but she didn't hear him ring the bell to be let in. She tiptoed over to her door and pr
essed her ear against the wood.

  The front door creaked open, and she heard the man's heavy footsteps on the stairs. She checked the lock on her door, then moved quietly to the sofa and sat down, her heart pounding in her ears.

  She would hold very still. Pretend she was not here. How did he know? The doctor? A private investigator? Had someone been watching her every move?

  The knock came, and although she'd been expecting it, she jumped. It was a soft knock, muffled, and only when he knocked again did Kim realize the officer was knocking on Lucy's door, not her own. Holding her breath, she walked quietly to her door again and pressed her ear against it. She heard Lucy open her door and a mumbled exchange of greetings. Lucy's door shut again. She had let him in.

  Kim lowered herself to the floor. What was going on? Had Lucy figured out who she was? Had she turned her in? Would it be a matter of minutes before the officer left Lucy's apartment and knocked on Kim's door for real this time?

  She'd taken two thousand dollars out of her bank account the day before and stuffed it under her mattress so she'd be ready to leave at a moment's notice. Was this the moment? Did she have the time to pack up a few things and leave quietly before the police officer knocked on her door? It would not take them long to find her though. People knew her car, and she'd forgotten to buy a marker she could use to change her license plate number.

  Paralysis set in as she tried to think through her limited options, and she jerked back to attention when she heard Lucy's door open again. She waited stiffly for the knock on her own door, but instead, the man's footsteps thudded on the stairs once again. She listened as he opened and closed the front door. A moment later, his car engine coughed to life.

  She leaned back against the door, breathing hard. What the hell was that about? Was he getting some backup? Or might he have been seeing Lucy about something totally, blessedly, unrelated to Kim Stratton?

  Thirty minutes passed before she could make herself get up. She turned off the computer. There was no way she could work anymore tonight.