Public Secrets (Artificial Intelligence Book 1) (7 page)

Luke’s phone rang. The newly promoted Tom was calling. His stress increased before he’d even answered. “What?”

“Got a call from Visa. She just used the card outside of Lake Taupo. A place called River Rats,” Tom said. “Think you can find it on your own, or do you need me to come down?”

“I’ve got it,” Luke snapped before ending the call. His anger flared, but at himself. He should have thought of checking there on his own.

***

Gary Eder watched the students board the buses. He saw Claire get in, but not Carla. He followed the buses all the way to the airport. Carla was not with them. The girl must have been telling the truth when she said Carla had left them, but where had she gone?

Maybe he had been wrong in his assumption that she was aware of his presence. If she wasn’t hiding, where would she go? He remembered the anchorwoman talking about a twenty-three-foot waterfall. Checking the brochures at the airport, he soon located the waterfall near Rotorua. He returned to his rental and headed north. It was a long shot, but his only other lead was a local boy in Lake Taupo and he didn’t look forward to sorting through several thousand local boys.

***

Carla followed Chad to his “house” on the lake. It was a mansion with a security gate. After a brief conversation, the guard let him through and waved her in as well.

She parked her car in an eight-car garage and grabbed her bags. “Is this the best you could do?” she teased as he lifted his bags out of his car and joined her.

“I know it’s no YHA.” He shrugged apologetically. “It belongs to one of the All Sports executives I had breakfast with on Monday. He was more than happy to let me use it.”

“I wondered how you found a room so easily. Lake Taupo books up very fast, you know. You couldn’t have gotten a room at the hostel at such late notice.”

He smiled. “Thank God for little cabins.”

A woman opened the door and welcomed them inside. “I’m Anna, the housekeeper. I stayed late tonight for your arrival. I normally leave at four. The cook always leaves at six. I had him prepare a cold plate of sandwiches in case you’re hungry.”

“Starved,” Carla replied.

“Well, when you’re ready, the kitchen is right through those doors.” She pointed to the right wall of the expansive living room. “I’ll show you to your rooms now.”

Chad grabbed the luggage, despite Carla’s insistence that she could carry her own. They followed Anna up the stairs and down the hall.

“The pink room will be yours, miss. And your room, Mr. Tyler, is right here, across the hall. If you find you need anything, write it down on the tablet in the hallway, and I’ll do my best to acquire it.”

Carla put her luggage on the bed and sorted through it looking for clean underwear. In the morning, she would hunt down the laundry room.
But right now, please God, let me have one set of clean, preferably nice-looking underwear.

Having successfully located some white cotton panties and a bra, she laid them out on the bed with stretch pants and a T-shirt. She wished she had something sexier, but she hadn’t planned for seductions while she was here.

Locating her shampoo and razor, she entered the attached bathroom and turned on the hot shower. When she turned around, Chad was looming in the doorframe.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, stepping inside.

Suddenly her spacious bathroom seemed very small.

“I just wanted to let you know that Anna has left for the night.”

“Thank you,” she said, grabbing a towel from the rack and holding it in front of her, even though she was still wearing her bathing suit. Suddenly it just didn’t seem enough.

Chad smiled. “Am I making you nervous?”

“Maybe a little.”

“I’ll go take my bath. See you downstairs.”

“You’ll find me in the kitchen, eating,” she called out.

“Better leave me some,” he warned.

Chad had yet to leave Carla’s bedroom when he heard the stall door slide open and closed. He imagined her naked inside the shower. A part of him said to go in, a part cautioned patience. He remembered the way she’d held the towel in front of her, so young and fragile.
Take it slow
, he advised himself.
Take it slow.

He turned to walk out, but his eye caught sight of her computer. Why would a college student bring a computer on vacation? He smiled as he remembered she was a computer science major. She’d probably take the computer into the shower if it were only waterproof. He felt a great need to power it up and peek inside, but he didn’t dare. He suspected she wasn’t the type to dally. If he wanted to see any of those sandwiches, he had better get moving.

***

Sure enough, he found her in the kitchen, munching on the second half of her sandwich when he came downstairs. He had taken the time to blow-dry his hair, thinking she would expect it. However, looking at her long, wet strands, he realized she lacked even the simplest of pretensions. She was definitely a “come as you are” girl.

“Did you leave me anything?”

She shook her head
no
. “You shouldn’t have spent so much time primping in front of the mirror,” she scolded between bites.

He opened the refrigerator and was amazed at the quantity of sandwiches inside. “Did the cook think I was bringing the entire football team with me?”

He heard Carla start to laugh and then choke on her sandwich.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to kill you with my rapier wit.” As she continued to cough, he patted her on her back. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, but the tears streaming from her eyes and the continued coughing suggested she had yet to clear her windpipe. He poured her a large glass of water, which she gratefully took. Finally calmed, she eyed the remainder of the sandwich warily.

He wiped the tears from her eyes, which now sparkled with happiness. God, it was a joy just being near her. She made him feel so alive!

As he continued to stare at her, she turned self-conscious. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Very,” he replied.

“There’s plenty to eat,” she reminded him.

He didn’t miss the sparkle in her eye. She was fully aware of the double entendres in their conversation. “Don’t tease the lion, little girl. It might wake up.” He returned to the refrigerator to make his selection.

“But I like to live dangerously,” she said as she continued eating her sandwich.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

After their appetites were satiated, Chad managed to create a very romantic environment in the living room with a roaring fire, soft music in the background and two large goblets of wine.

“I should warn you, wine makes me sleepy,” Carla said.

“That’s because it relaxes you.”

“Yes, and then I doze off.”

“Well, you don’t have to drive, so don’t worry about falling asleep.”

“But I don’t want to fall asleep. I want to get to know everything about you.”

A chill ran through Chad’s body. “Like what?” Paranoia crept into his mind.

“Like...what’s your favorite flower?”

“Flower?”

“Uh-hum.” She leaned against his chest.

“What’s yours?”

“Well, it’s not wisteria, because the darn stuff won’t bloom. I think the angelic tulip.”

“Not a rose?”

“Well, the angelic tulip looks a bit like a rose, more like a peony, but it has no thorns.”

Chad smiled. “A rose with no thorns.”

She turned her head so she could see him better, causing her to slide into his waiting arm.

She sighed. “You are so beautiful.”

“I thought we had an agreement—no compliments.”

“I wasn’t complimenting you. I was complaining.”

“Complaining?”

“You’re too handsome for me.”

“And you’re too young for me.”

“You have a mother complex?”

“What are you really, nineteen?”

“I told you my age. And it’s rude for you to make me repeat myself. It’s a painful topic.”

“So you did. Let’s see...it was thirty-six, if I recall.”

“Yep.” She released a deep sigh.

“A little old to be a college student, isn’t it?”

“I hope not. Dr. Wilson thinks he can teach me to sing.”

“I’m sure he can.”

“I mean professionally. It may be a pipe dream, but I want to try. I don’t like what I do now. I want to do something else.”

“I’m sure you’ll do very well.”

“Says a man who’s never heard me sing.”

“I have too.”

“When?”

“On the plane. You have a beautiful voice.”

She chuckled. “I thought you were claiming you could isolate my voice in the choir group and I was going to call you on that.”

“Honestly, I couldn’t tell any of the choirs apart,” he admitted. “But when you sang as you left me in the plane, that I will remember always. You sounded like an angel.”

“But would you pay money to hear me?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a dime. He placed it in her hand. “Sing for me now.”

She sang a sad little song from
Evita
about a young girl whose love affairs never worked out. Her voice mesmerized him.

When she finished the last line— “So what happens now?” —she curled up in his arms and fell asleep.

Chad watched her sleeping in his arms for several minutes. What the hell was he thinking, bringing such an innocent into the ugly public domain of his life? It would destroy her. She was much too open and honest. How would he ever protect her from the cruelty of the press? He thought of Simon’s book. He couldn’t pull her into his world, knowing it was about to shatter into a million pieces. He had no right to do it. He should walk away now before things progressed too far. But as he studied her sweet face, he knew they had already gone past the point of no return.

Chad carried her upstairs and laid her on the bed, pulling the cover over her. God, she was beautiful...and young. She looked like a child.

A sickening pit hit his stomach. Exactly how old was she? She was in college—she couldn’t be younger than nineteen, could she?
Child prodigies could arrive at college when they’re twelve,
he reminded himself. Could computer nerds be prodigies? He felt certain they could. Was that why she understood the downside of fame? Was she a famous prodigy child, hounded by the news media?

Her purse lay on the dresser. Carla’s passport would tell him everything he needed to know, but to read it would be an invasion of privacy. He thought of how betrayed and angry he would feel if he were to catch her going through his wallet.
But her age could hurt you
, he warned himself.
You’re thirty-four. You can’t afford to be dating a teenager
.

He stepped towards the purse, still struggling with what he was about to do. He reached out and touched it. He had to know. He had to!

“Chad?”

Her voice froze his hand. He released her purse and turned around.

“What are you doing?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Struggling with my conscience.” He returned to the side of the bed and sat down next to her. “I was about to check your ID.”

She sat up and cocked her head to the side. “Why?”

He sighed. “When you’re sleeping, you look so innocent. I suddenly got concerned about how young you really are.”

Carla laughed and moved closer to him.

“You’re not mad, then?”

“If it weren’t so silly, I probably would be.” She looked up and brushed the hair from his eyes. “Chad, I really am thirty-six.”

He let his finger run across the side of her face. “See, that’s the problem. You aren’t anywhere close to thirty-six, so I know you’re lying, and I have to wonder why.”

She broke out into a lovely rendition of Janis Joplin’s “Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz”. When she’d finished, she looked up at him. “Now would I know that song if I were a teenager?”

He smiled. “You really do have a lovely voice.”

“Really?” she asked. “You aren’t just saying that to be nice?”

“I’m saying it because it’s true.”

“Good enough to be a professional?”

He smiled. “You really don’t like your current job, do you?”

Her smile faded. “I loved it at first. But I hate it now. Everything about it.”

He pulled her closer to him and wrapped his arms around her. “Then you should definitely pursue music.”

She suddenly realized where they were. “How’d we get up here?”

“You fell asleep. Too much wine.”

She laughed and let her head fall onto his chest. “I warned you...”

“I had no idea you meant half a glass would put you in a coma.”

“I can’t drink.”

“How do you feel now?” He ran his hand through her silky hair.

She looked up, her eyes sparkling, her mouth so close he could feel her breath on his face. He was just about to lean over and taste those sweet lips when the phone in his jacket vibrated.

He pulled back and smiled apologetically. “Hold that thought.” He pulled the phone out and flipped it open. “Chad.”

It was an operator wanting to know if he would accept a collect call from Claire Jackson. “Sorry, I don’t know a Claire Jackson,” he replied, and hung the phone up.

Carla’s mouth fell open. “Why would Claire try to call you?”

He was about to slide the phone back into his pocket when he suddenly realized who Claire Jackson was. “Shit, she’s your roommate. I’m sorry, I totally forgot her name.”

“But why would she have your number?”

“I was trying to find you after the concert. I gave her my card in case you got in contact with her.”

The phone vibrated again. Chad flipped it open. This time, the operator informed him it was an emergency collect call from Claire Jackson, a friend of Carla.

When he accepted and the call went through, he immediately apologized. “Claire, I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize your name.”

“It’s about Carla,” Claire explained. “I think she’s in danger.”

“Carla’s fine.”

“No! There was this man in Whakapapa. He was really scary. He was looking for Carla. He had the picture from the
Star
of the two of you. I think he would have killed me if Dr. Wilson and a security guard hadn’t showed up.”

“Calm down. He was probably just a reporter. They can get pretty obnoxious at times.”

“He said he was Ralph Calastri from the New York Times. He had his credentials around his neck.”

“There, you see? Just a reporter.”

“But he’s not. I just called the New York Times, and they didn’t send Ralph Calistri to New Zealand.”

Chad didn’t like that bit of news. “Tell me what happened from the start.”

He listened closely as Claire told her story, all the while studying the perplexed and worried angel beside him. When Claire finished her tale, he assured her Carla was fine and passed the phone over so Carla could reassure her as well.

Carla was off the bed and pacing the room as Claire shared all again. “What did he look like? How tall? Was he taller or shorter than Dr. Wilson? Hair color? Think, Claire! Was it brown or gray? His eyes—were the eyebrows thin or thick? His nose—were there any peculiar marks on his nose?”

Chad noticed the answer to each question only increased her pace and agitation. When she disconnected the call and handed the phone back to him, there wasn’t a touch of color left in her face.

“You know this guy?”

Carla turned away as she replied. “No, but he sounds very scary.”

She stood with her back to him, sorting the items on her dresser.

Chad pressed against her back and wrapped his arms protectively around her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She stiffened. “Not right now. I think I just want to be alone.”

Surprised and hurt by her rebuff, he backed off and left the room.

***

The moment the door closed, she grabbed her laptop and turned it on. She pulled up the directory call “Characters” and moved down the list until she came to Gary Eder. She double-clicked on the name and watched his profile appear on her screen.

Gary Eder—she had written his profile twelve years ago, but never used his character in any of her books because he was too dark and horrible. Still, she couldn’t forget him. He was the worst character she had ever created, and now it seemed he had come to life and was hunting her.

EDER

Eder was born to a middle-class family with upper-class pretensions. He was sent to the “best” schools and told to play with only the “best” children. Problem was, children never liked Eder: Not the poor children, not the middle-class children and certainly not the rich children. Even the teachers found it hard to be polite to the quiet, surly boy.