Double Take (35 page)

Smiling.

The woman became clearer. A long, graceful step, a bright white bikini, no top. Brilliantly white breasts. Hair that was shoulder-length...

Colin stopped.

Lana had cut her hair a week ago, and the woman’s face and body were suntanned.

He stared in dismay.

She smiled at him, a local girl with the high cheekbones of the native Indians.

Colin dropped his beer as she walked past.

She sent him another smile, this time over her shoulder, and he saw that her bikini was a thong. He turned away.

She was coming. He knew it. She had not been caught. It was simply impossible.

He made his way slowly back to the bungalow and then outside. There was a big white rock by the end of the drive where the rotting mailbox was. Now the unmarked two-lane highway was empty as far as the eye could see. Colin sat down on the rock and sipped his beer, staring north. He would wait until she came.

And if she didn’t come today, then she would come tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day afterwards.

He would not leave Puerto de Raya until Lana arrived.

He would wait days, months, years.

He glanced into the rearview mirror as the unmarked sedan crept north on the freeway. The traffic was extremely heavy as it was almost five p.m. and everyone who worked in D.C. was on their way home. And the prisoner seemed troubled and sad.

But it was not his business. It was not his business that she claimed she was Kait London, that she looked exactly like the photograph on her driver’s license, and that she had spouted off enough information about her identity and her life to fill two novels. They were merely transporting her back to Skeritt County, from whence she came.

She met his glance in the rearview mirror and smiled gently.

Automatically, he smiled back.

Bill, who had recently become his partner and who was driving, immediately noticed. “Cut it out,” he said, looking at the rearview mirror and speaking to Lana Coleman/Kait London.

She said softly, “I have to use a rest room.”

Bill ignored that.

Dan turned. “We’ll be back in Three Falls in about an hour. Surely you can wait?”

She recrossed her long legs, her blue dress riding higher on her thighs. It was impossible not to look, because she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in person. Not that it mattered. He’d been happily married twenty-eight years and he had two kids and two grand-kids, not to mention a wife who hadn’t left him in spite of the job. He
loved
Mary. She was plump now, and short-tempered, but she was still a beautiful woman and the best wife a man could have, to his way of thinking. Still, the woman in the backseat was the kind of woman men had fantasies about, and he’d had quite a few in the past six hours since picking her up at the airport.

Not that he would ever cheat. Never had and never would. But there was nothing wrong with a good, hot, triple X–rated fantasy, now, was there?

Tonight he would make love to his wife, all right. He was already hard thinking about it.

“It will be two or three hours at this rate,” she protested softly. “I have handcuffs on. You can leave them on. Or you can come into the bathroom with me.” She smiled a little. “I trust you not to look.”

Their eyes met. He thought,
She knew.
She knew that he had the hots for her and if he wanted it, he could have it. Christ. For one moment, the temptation was so overwhelming, he actually considered it. Then he turned to his new partner. “Pull over at that Texaco, Bill.”

Bill snorted. “She has to piss like I’m a fairy.”

“Just pull over. Where’s she going to go?”

Bill swerved hard into another lane, cutting off the car behind them, causing horns to blare and someone to curse through a rolled-down window. Bill slapped their siren on top of the car and turned it on. He gave the driver behind them an “I’m gonna break your balls” look followed by the finger and shoved through the next lane and onto the shoulder of the highway. Using that, he drove the next mile to the exit.

The Texaco had five cars at the three islands. Bill halted the sedan by the side of the minimart. “I’ll check it out,” Dan said, climbing out of the car. He smiled at the woman in the backseat. “One moment. You okay?”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

He went into the store and was told by a young Hispanic man with a goatee and acne that the bathrooms were in the back. Bill walked down an aisle filled with chips and candy, grabbing a bag of Fritos as he did. He opened the door to the ladies’ room. There was a toilet and a sink with a mirror over it, a garbage can, the paper towel dispenser and the hot-air dryer. God, Bill was such a dick. Shaking his head, he walked back outside, tossing the Fritos on the counter as he did so, intending to pay for them later.

“No problem,” he announced to his partner. “No window, nothing.”

Bill grunted, leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes, apparently taking a nap.

Dan opened the back door, helping Lana out. Their eyes met. She didn’t say a word, but she looked at him as if he were twenty-five and all muscle again. He shouldn’t take the cuffs off, but where would she go? And more important, how? There was simply no way for her to escape.

He unlocked the cuffs and tossed them on the backseat, slamming the door closed and taking her soft, slender arm. “This way.”

“Your partner could use a lesson in how to be a gentleman from you,” she said as they entered the store.

He flushed with pleasure, leading her to the back. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” Her look was direct. “I never forget a kindness.”

“I’m married,” he blurted, and felt himself turn red. She laughed softly. “I know.” She glanced down at his simple wedding band. “I need to buy some Tampax.”

He knew turned redder. “Okay.”

She seemed grateful. He watched her choose a box and handed her a fiver to pay for it. Then he escorted her to the bathroom, where she promised to hurry. “Don’t rush,” he said, still blushing. “The traffic stinks.”

She laughed and disappeared inside the bathroom, and he heard her lock the door.

He didn’t care. She wasn’t going anywhere, and he leaned against the door, imagining her dropping her panties. They’d be lace and sheer. No, she’d wear a wisp of a thong. The setting changed. She pulled off her dress. They were in a hotel room. Her breasts were big and white. He already knew she wasn’t wearing a bra. Now, she had no underwear either, not even a thong. Smiling, she got down on her knees, unzipping him. She sucked him down her throat.

He started, wishing he’d had his jacket on. He paced, shaking himself free of the extremely graphic and vivid fantasy he’d succumbed to. God, he’d actually felt her lips....

He glanced at his wristwatch. How long had she been in there? Two minutes? Five? He had no idea now. Couldn’t be more than five. He’d give her five more, then politely knock.

An image of her naked and spread wide for him on a bed assailed his mind. He shoved it away, and thought about how it would be a good four or five hours before he got home tonight to his wife.

When five minutes had passed, Dan said, awkwardly, “Kait? I mean, Ms. London? Er... Mrs. Coleman?”

There was no answer.

He knocked on the door, deciding to use the name she claimed was her genuine one. “Ms. London? You all right in there?”

No answer.

His blood rushed. He reminded himself that there was no window and no possible way for her to get out. He knocked again, this time forcefully. “Ms. London? Time to go. You all right in there?”

There was still no answer, and the silence was resounding now.

Dan rushed to the pimply-faced cashier, showing his badge and demanding a key. He was sick now, sick in his gut, but he kept reminding himself that the woman could not have escaped. Had she passed out? With the curious cashier on his heels, he raced to the back of the store and unlocked the door.

The bathroom was empty.

The garbage can was upside down and on top of the toilet, which had its lid closed. The bottle of soap had been taken from the dispenser, and was lying on the floor, where it had been dropped. In horror, Dan looked up at the ceiling.

There was a grille above the toilet. It had been pushed up and away, and a square black hole gaped down at him.

He stared in disbelief.
She had escaped.

He whirled, gun in hand. “Where the fuck does that vent go?”

“Like, how the hell would I know?” the young man said, amused.

“Did you see her go out of the store?”

“No,” he said, as if Dan were a moron.

Dan dashed into the store, but there were no dislodged ventilation units in any part of the ceiling there. Was she still in the crawl space above?

“Hey, there’s a storeroom in the back. Maybe she’s in there?” The cashier suggested with growing enthusiasm.

They raced to a door that was not locked, but which had a sign on it telling customers that entry was forbidden. The cashier pushed it open and Dan walked in as the young man hit the light. The small storeroom instantly became illuminated, and the first thing Dan saw was the wide-open door and through it, the parking lot at the back of the store.

“Hey, she must have dropped down in here.” The cashier glanced up at the ceiling above their heads.

So did Dan. Another square hole grinned mockingly at him.

Dan ran outside. A block away was the freeway, lined with cars, and damn it, the traffic was moving now at a nice forty-five or fifty miles an hour.

“Guess she got a ride.” The cashier grinned. “She a murderer or something?”

He knew his career was over. “Or something,” he said grimly.

Sam was beside herself. She stood in the foyer, where two suitcases and a garment bag had been ominously placed. Her father had retreated to his study and Kait had gone upstairs. Sam imagined that she would shower and change for her trip back to New York.

She swiped at the tears on her face, dashing up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Her huge chunky heels got in the way and she fell. She launched herself upright and ran down the corridor and into the master bedroom, not knocking. She halted breathlessly there.

Kait stood in the center of the room in a pale beige pantsuit, staring either at the bed or out the window beyond it. She turned.

“I can’t let you go. We love you, Kait! Even Dad loves you.”

Kait smiled sadly. “Your father may or may not love me, Sam, but I did something that he will never forget, and more importantly, will never forgive.”

Sam couldn’t breathe. First her father had hit her, then Gabe had been shot, and now this. “I don’t get it. You and Dad—you’re both hypocrites!”

Kait walked over to her and laid her hand on her shoulder. “Life is hard and it isn’t fair,” she said softly. Her blue eyes were swimming with tears.

“But you guys love each other!” Sam protested, her stomach sickening.

“I love him...and I always will.” She sighed, and choked on a sob.

“I had better go. While I am still capable of walking away on my own two feet.”

Sam caught her elbow from behind. “No! Dad has always talked about forgiveness, about saying I’m sorry, about how important forgiving and letting go is! I’ve heard him lecture a million times! But when it’s his life, now he can just refuse to forgive? Like, I should forgive him for hitting me and for hating Gabe, but he can’t forgive you for coming here to help your sister?”

Kait shook her head wordlessly. Then she pulled Sam into her arms. “I love you and you can call me anytime,” she said. Then she straightened, uncertain. “If your father allows it.”

“This is shit!” Sam cried.

Kait gave her a tearful look and hurried from the room, her shoulders squared.

Panic overcame Sam.
Kait was their mother now! She couldn’t leave them like this so suddenly, so abruptly—just like Mom had one day left them, when she had died. It wasn’t fair!
It was happening all over again. Sam ran after her. “Kait! Please don’t go! We love you! We’ll be good—I’ll apologize to Dad—I won’t see Gabe—I’ll do anything you want—please!”

Kait whirled and embraced her. “Oh, Sam! I’d stay if I could—if he’d let me!” She chucked up her chin. “Honey, you don’t have to do anything differently. I love you just the way you are.”

Sam wept.

Kait continued down the stairs; Sam couldn’t move. She found herself sitting on a step, thinking that she could run away to New York to live with Kait. But what about Marni? She couldn’t leave her little sister behind. And she wasn’t so selfish as to steal her away from their father. Besides, that was probably illegal—it was probably kidnapping, and she and Gabe were already in enough trouble.

She heard the front door open and slam closed; she heard Elizabeth speaking and Kait replying. Sam leapt up and ran down the rest of the stairs, and when she reached the front hall, she saw Elizabeth’s Land Rover pulling away, with Kait in the front seat beside the housekeeper. For one moment, she was frozen, and then she brushed her soaking-wet face with her sleeve and ran frantically into her father’s study.

He sat at his desk, but his head was on his arms, his eyes closed, as if he were asleep. “Dad!”

He slowly straightened. “What is it?”

“You love her! You have to forgive her and you have to get her back!” Sam shouted.

Trev stared at her. “You don’t understand.”

“I do understand!” Sam came closer. “You love her, I love her, and Marni loves her! And we need her, Dad! And why do you get to get off on all the forgiveness stuff you always preach to me?”

Trev stared, looking odd and ill all at once. “I’m afraid.”

Sam blinked. “But she’s not like that bitch. She’s nice and kind. And she loves us! She loves you! You’re breaking her heart, Dad!”

“Sam, you’re too young to understand.” He stood.

“No, I do understand! I understand that you’re nothing but a coward, Dad!” Sam ran out.

“Whoa,” Rafe said from the doorway, catching Sam by the shoulders.

Sam glared at him. “He’s so stupid and I’m going to go to New York City to live with Kait!” She flung a furious and tearful look at her father, jerked free of her uncle’s grasp, and ran off.

Trev stared at his brother. Rafe stared back. Then he knocked on the open door. “Gotta moment?”

“Not really. Not if you came to harp on me.”

Rafe smiled grudgingly. “Been a while since I saw you cry. In fact, I think the last time was the day Mariah died.”

Trev felt the pain then, all the way to his heart. But it wasn’t the pain of the wife he’d loved who had died seven years before; it was the pain of losing the woman he’d so recently come to love, it was the pain of losing Kait. He’d been trying desperately to keep it at bay all day. “That’s a low blow. And uncalled for.”

“Do you love her?”

Trev gave him a dark look and paced to a window, refusing to answer.

“Stupid question, being as Iknow the answer. You know I’m a pretty good judge of character. As much as I’d like not to like Kait, I do. I think she’s as different from Lana as a sister can be, and I know she’s head over heels for you.”

Trev turned to look at him, shaking. Was she in love with him? He desperately wanted to believe so. And in a way, he did. But if so, how could she have done what she had? What if she was like her sister?