Lara stood still, her nostrils working. The strong, sweet
smell of his cologne wafted across to her. She closed her eyes, sniffed the air
again, then opened them wide and stared at Carter.
“You…you…you’re…him…” she stammered, backing up.
He saw the terror in her eyes and realized at once she
remembered him. He panicked.
“Lara! Come here. Let’s talk, okay?” He reached for her arm.
She turned and ran across the vestibule, up the stairs as
fast as she could.
“Shit!” he uttered, dropping his briefcase and sprinting
after her.
* * * *
On the stage, Peter stood watching her leave the auditorium,
absently running his hand over his stubbly face. His cell phone rang. Jonesy’s
name lit up on the screen. He answered it.
“Peter! That guy on his way to interview Lara isn’t from
Ballet News. They never heard of him! I’m sending the police.” She hung up.
Peter looked up and saw Lara enter the balcony. Panic rose in
his throat and he struggled to push it down.
“Get away from me! Get away!” Lara screamed. “Peter, help!
Help me!”
Peter ran up the ramp, flung open the door and took the
stairs two at a time, heading for the balcony. Carter was not far behind Lara.
“Wait, Lara! Wait!” Carter called, desperation in his voice.
She turned to face him. As he got closer, she ducked into an
aisle and side-stepped to the middle seats. He turned into a nearby aisle and
followed her to the middle.
“You bitch! You’re going to ruin everything!”
Trying to run through the narrow rows was difficult for Lara
even though she was thin. Carter stayed parallel to her, across from her barely
out of arm’s reach, two rows away. His face twisted with rage as he saw her
slipping through his fingers.
Lara was in about the middle of the first row in the balcony,
which had a little more room, when Carter lunged at her. She dodged and he missed,
swearing as the wooden seat back made contact with his thigh. She bolted for
the aisle with Carter a half-step behind. Lara screamed and ran back to the
temporary safety of the middle. Carter slowed down, bobbing and weaving through
the seats after her. He kept a steady pace, hoping to wear her out. If he was
too fast and she changed direction, she’d give him the slip.
Slowly he approached her, his gaze steady on hers. She backed
away, but he was closing in on her. He stood on tiptoe and looked over the
railing. Lara knew the fall was far enough to kill her. An evil smile curled
his lips as he continued to inch closer to her.
“Get back, Carter. I know who you are.” Lara took tiny steps
back, her arms out to keep her balance.
“I know you do, Lara. I need to fix that.”
“Get away from me,” she warned.
The door to the balcony opened and Peter entered then stopped
short. Lara glimpsed him out of the corner of her eye, afraid to take her gaze
off Carter. Carter stopped briefly and looked up at Peter.
“He can’t help you. It’s too late. You’re going down.”
“Don’t believe him, Lara.” Peter came down the stairs as fast
as he could.
Carter moved closer to Lara. Sweat broke out on Peter’s
forehead.
Carter gave a false lunge and Lara started, then teetered a
little closer to the low balcony railing.
“Hah! You almost went over and I wasn’t even trying!” He
taunted her.
Lara took off her jacket and darted back and forth, trying to
throw Carter off. Peter continued down the stairs, getting closer to Carter,
but not close enough. Carter lifted his leg in an attempt to climb over the
seats.
“Won’t work, dumbass. She’s too fast for you,” Peter yelled.
Lara knew he was lying. If Carter could vault over the seats, he’d surely catch
her.
When Carter turned to look at Peter, Lara tossed her jacket
over his head and sped away. The jacket covered his face, confusing him for a
moment. He ripped the jacket off and raced after her closing the gap between
them to only a few steps. Peter was on the other side of the mezzanine, too far
away to grab Carter. He ran through the first row, his long legs bringing him
closer to Carter. Peter was closing in. Lara got to the aisle seconds before
Carter and raced up with Carter right behind her.
“The row, Lara, go into the row,” Peter yelled through cupped
hands.
Lara ducked into row R and Carter followed her. Peter climbed
over the rows, getting to row R before Carter reached out to grab Lara. Peter
reached for Carter, but Carter swerved to the right, avoiding his grasp. Peter
diverted Carter’s attention long enough to allow Lara to escape. She scurried
down to the third row and cut in quickly to elude Carter who was gaining on
her. Lara couldn’t watch behind and run forward at the same time. Lara got to
the end of the row and went down toward the front, turning her back to him. He
saw his chance when she rounded the first row, up close against the railing.
Carter took a running leap and launched himself at Lara to push her over.
“Duck, Lara! Duck!” Peter called to her.
Lara glimpsed Carter flying at her out of the corner of her
eye. She dropped flat on the ground barely below his grasp. Suddenly there was
only air where Lara had been a split second before. Carter scrambled, his hands
pawing the air but momentum carried him straight over the brass railing, head
first. He emitted a blood-curdling scream as he fell to the floor with a loud
thud.
Police had entered the building just before Carter went over
the railing. Hearing the voices coming from the balcony, Dave Williams raced up
the two flights of stairs in time to see Carter lunge at Lara and fall. He
radioed immediately for an ambulance.
Peter reached Lara who was flat on the floor, shaking. He
helped her up, sat in an aisle seat and set her on his lap, folding his arms
around her. She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed.
“Nice work.” Dave Williams complimented the pair.
Peter nodded, handed Lara his handkerchief and tightened his
arms around her.
“Can’t wait to call New York and tell ’em we’ve got their
attacker,” Dave said.
Carter was still alive, but unconscious and in police custody
when the ambulance whisked him away. Lara and Peter went home. All she wanted
to do was to lie in Peter’s arms and try to forget but her memory was back and
everything was now crystal clear.
Chapter Twenty-two
On the
first weekend in February, Pat called the neat house on James Street to invite
Sam to a concert at the university. Peter answered the phone. After a few
pleasantries, she asked to speak to Sam.
She sat back
on her sofa and took a sip from her coffee mug.
“Dad’s
not here. He’s gone. Didn’t he tell you?”
Pat got
a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach and put her mug down.
“He
didn’t tell me. Where is he?”
“He’s
teaching, lecturing, at the University of Florida and a couple of other
colleges in Florida. He’s gone for a few weeks. I’m surprised he didn’t tell
you.”
Pat was
speechless. Sam was gone. She fought down the panic rising in her gut.
“Pat?
Are you still there?”
“I’m
here,” she said, her voice barely audible.
“He
really didn’t tell you?”
“No.
I’m…I’m…”
“I’m
sorry. He should have told you. Should I tell him you called?”
“Please
tell him I called. Is there a number where I can reach him?”
“Only
his cell phone, but he doesn’t pick it up. He hates cell phones.”
Pat
fought the tears behind her eyes but lost. They spilled over and ran down her
cheeks.
Hang up, fool!
She took a big
breath to steady her voice, but it shook anyway.
“I’ve
got to go,” she said, covering the mouthpiece with her hand.
“I’m so
sorry, Pat.”
After
hanging up the phone, Pat put her head in her hands and cried.
Why didn’t I tell him how much I love him?
Sam was willing to commit to her, why couldn’t she commit to him and put her
foot down with Jack? Now Sam was hurt, angry and gone.
Pat mixed herself a strong drink, took a swig and dialed
Jack’s number.
“Jack…dear…I’m making some changes in my life and I wanted to
let you know…”
Her next phone call was to Jonesy in administration at the university.
“Hi,
Jonesy, Pat. I need a favor from you. Could you please call Dr. Gilbert for me?
See if he’s busy now, I need him to cover for me. I have some personal
business. Wonderful. Thank you so much.”
* * * *
Sam
arrived at the lecture hall at his alma mater, Austen Mansfield University,
early to set up his slides and CDs. This was his second lecture to this group
and his favorite one as it involved using bird calls. He was a good speaker,
managing to keep students awake and attentive. His lectures were well attended.
After
this lecture, he’d go birding for two days in the Everglades, then move on to
Florida Conservation Institute. He was glad to be out of the cold, biting
weather in Willow Falls, but he missed his family…and Patsy.
It
seemed to him as if he had gone to the phone to call her a dozen times, but
each time he stopped. She wouldn’t commit to him, wouldn’t tell him she loved
him. He felt like a temporary diversion, not someone she might want to spend
the rest of her life with.
He knew he
disappeared on her. Probably hurt her a little bit too. Hell, she hurt him
plenty so maybe it was okay to hurt her a little.
She’ll get over it.
He needed to get away, but he missed her…her
soft skin, her intelligence, her sense of humor and her passionate response
when they made love. He missed her French toast, her listening skills, her warm
laughter…everything about her.
The room
got quiet as the students waited for Sam to speak. The silence brought his
attention back to his lecture. He put up his first slide, then played the first
bird call and started speaking, until the door in the back of the room opened.
He looked up as Pat walked in. She stopped and their eyes locked.
“Dr.
Caldwell, I apologize for being late and disrupting your class.” She announced
in a clear voice.
“No
problem…is it Mrs. or Miss?” Sam asked, his keen eyes connecting with hers.
“It’s
Miss. Definitely Miss,” she said, smiling at him, her gaze glued to his.
“Why
don’t you come and sit down front, Miss…”
“Dr.
Weiss, actually,” Patsy said, as she walked to the front of the room.
Sam
beamed at her for a few seconds before continuing his lecture. Pat sat down.
When the lecture was over and Sam had finished answering questions for eager
students, he ambled over to where Pat was sitting. They were alone in the
lecture hall.
“Patsy,
what are you doing here?” he asked, a small smile playing at his lips.
“I came
to see you.” Her sharp eyes examined his.
“I’m
honored. Why?”
“Because
you left before I could tell you…how much I love you.”
“That
true?”
“Are you
calling me a liar?” She covered her mouth with her hand to hide her smile.
“No, no.
I’d never do that.” He smiled.
“Good.
Of course it’s true. I also had a long talk with Jack. He’s not going to set up
any more road blocks…not going to get between us again.”
Sam
smiled and extended his hand to her. She took it and stood up.
“Perhaps
we should go somewhere more private to talk.”
“Where?”
“How
about my hotel room?” he whispered, his bright blue eyes glittering with
desire.
“Are you
trying to seduce me, Dr. Caldwell?”
“You’re
damn right I am.”
“What
are we waiting for?”
*
* * *
Sam and
Pat sat in the tiny coffee shop at his motel, sipping iced tea and eating
salads after a long session of lovemaking.
“I’d
like to talk about…our spending more time together…I missed you so much, Sam,
you have no idea.” Tears formed in her eyes.
He put
his hand on hers. “Are you serious?”
“Again
you question my veracity. Of course, I’m serious. Why else did I fly down here
leaving all that lovely snow and ice in Willow Falls behind?”
“Patsy…I
miss you too.” He leaned over to plant a kiss on her lips.
Sam took
Patsy birding with him in the Everglades and then on to his next lecture. They
were back in Willow Falls in time for Valentine’s Day when Sam presented Patsy
with a blue topaz ring to match her necklace and Patsy gave him a key to her
house.
* * * *
After
dinner at Bon Appetit on a Friday night, they drove to Patsy’s house to be
alone. Sam poured some Drambuie into two tiny cordial glasses and they sat on
the sofa together.
“I try
to get up-to-date on technology and the changes in the world, but some things
never change.”
“Like
what?” Patsy took a sip and put her delicate glass down on the coffee table.
“Love. I
don’t believe in shacking up, Patsy. I love you and I think we ought to get
married. What do you say?” Sam took her hand in his.
“That’s
a helluva proposal, Sam. Where’s the bended knee, the engagement ring, the
pledge of undying love and all that? Some romantic!” She chuckled.
“Damn!
You’re right. I’m talking about it like it’s a business deal.” Sam then dropped
down, slowly, to one knee.
“I love
you, Patsy, will you marry me?” he asked as he pulled out a small box. He
opened it to reveal a beautiful emerald ring.
“Oh,
Sam, I was kidding! Get up before you damage your knee.” Patsy sat up.