Sara's Song (39 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Sara's Song
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“Me too, Adam. How long do you think I can get by being Jack Piper?”
“As long as you want.” Adam burst out laughing at the look on his brother's face. Dallas leaned across the seat. “I know you didn't expect me to say that. God, Dallas, I'm so glad you're alive.”
“Did you collect on my insurance? Merry Christmas, Adam.”
“Yeah. I'm going to have to work on that one. This is going to be the best Christmas we ever had. The best.”
Tom Silk shivered at the shadows in both men's eyes. He shivered again when he watched the brothers stare at the speck in the sky—a plane like the one that had taken Sara Killian out of their lives.
Chapter Twenty
Adam poured ice tea from the frosty pitcher. Dallas shifted his papers and books to the side of the table before he accepted his glass.
“You seem restless, Dallas. Is anything wrong?”
“I feel like a criminal even though you paid back the insurance company and the tour insurance. I don't even want to know how you managed that. It was nice of you to take half the hit. I appreciate it. I don't owe anybody anything, monetarily. My life is more or less on track. Tomorrow is the Fourth of July. Summer is here. I don't think there are any more fish in Lake Moultrie for either of us to catch. Where do we ... I go from here, Adam?”
“Where do you want to go, Dallas? The roads outside this walled garden lead everywhere. The choice is yours. If you want to go back to being Dallas Lord again, I can work out something the media and your fans will buy. It has to be what you want, Dallas. This is just my opinion, but I don't think you like being Jack Piper, ordinary citizen. Is it Sandi's trial that is looming on the horizon or is it seeing Sara at the trial that's bothering you?”
“Let's face it, Adam, Sandi has been telling everyone I'm alive from the moment they arrested her. If I take back my identity now, it will make you, Tom, and Sara liars before the whole world. No one is sure if the judge will come through or not. His family took him off somewhere, and no one even knows where he is. If he's a no-show, that leaves the three of you. I can't do that to you. I've been thinking about asking you to call a news conference so I can admit to the whole thing. A lie is a lie, Adam. There was probably a time when that wouldn't have bothered me. It bothers me now, though. I could go on
60 Minutes
or
20/20
and tell it like it is. This has nothing to do with the Canyon River Band, the money, performing, or any of that. I was born Dallas Lord and I want to die as Dallas Lord. I want to be Dallas Lord for whatever happens in between, too. I'm not in a big hurry, but I am thinking about it. What do you think, Adam?”
“I think I'm very proud of you, little brother. Whatever you decide, I'm with you. Is anything else bothering you?”
“That's pretty much it.”
“Dallas, the tape Sara sent back to you is still on the foyer table. Are you
ever
going to open it?” Dallas shrugged. “I know where she is. You could call her.”
“Why?”
“If I have to tell you why, there is no point to this discussion.”
“I thought you . . .”
“Dallas, Dr. Sara Killian is a fine person. I asked her out to dinner. I ask a lot of people out to dinner. The two of us put her through a ton of misery. I'll grant you she's tough, but she's fragile, too. She looked so ... sad when she got on that plane. I know she was crying. Tom saw it, too. For some reason I don't think she was crying because that sorry ordeal was over. I think it had something to do with you. I'm the first to admit I know nothing about women. This is just a guess on my part, but I think you know even less.”
Dallas snorted. The pencil in his hand snapped in two. Adam's eyebrows shot upward. “How would you like some spaghetti for supper? I make really good spaghetti.”
“Fine.” Making spaghetti meant the discussion was over. “Do you mind if I invite a friend?”
“Great. Male or female?”
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters. Spaghetti sauce splatters. Women don't like their clothes peppered with little red dots. They dress accordingly.”
“I didn't know that. Female. Alice Mitchell. She teaches at the College of Charleston.”
Dallas's sigh could be heard clear across the room. Adam smiled to himself.
“Hey, guys, take a look at this,” Tom Silk said breathlessly. “Second page, top right. Sandi Sims skipped out on her bail. She's on the run.”
Adam threw the paper down in disgust. Dallas rolled his eyes. “I'm surprised she waited this long. They'll never catch her. Guess there isn't going to be a trial.”
“Somebody should call Sara and tell her,” Adam said.
“Somebody should,” Dallas said nonchalantly. “Do you want basil and cilantro or just basil in the sauce?”
“Surprise me,” Adam said.
“Surprises are good,” Dallas said, and chuckled.
 
 
Sara reached for the cup of tea at her elbow. She looked around. The screened porch was spartan, with only a small plastic table and a folding aluminum lawn chair. It looked as temporary as it felt.
It was hard to believe it was the end of July. Thirty more days until Sandi Sims's trial. The upcoming trial had been hanging over her head like a giant black cloud. Sandi's lawyer was saying it was all circumstantial. She shrugged off the black thoughts as she stared through the screen into the flower-bordered backyard. The days had been warm and sunny, the nights cool and uneventful. Somehow she'd managed to while away seven months by doing nothing. She'd read all the latest books, planted a few tomato plants whose leaves were yellow and whose tomatoes were only as big as green peas. She'd taken long walks, watched the soap operas, talk shows, and game shows until she couldn't stand it any longer. The thirteen-inch television set that came with the rental house hadn't been turned on in weeks.
“Sara?”
“Carly. What time is it?”
“Time for us to be heading out of this burg. Tell me again that you aren't angry with Hank and me for getting married.”
“I'm not angry. I wish you had told me though. I didn't get to give you something blue or a wedding gift.”
“Just make sure you give us a smashing gift on our first anniversary. I don't like it here, Sara. There is nothing to do and no place to go. All you do is watch those shitty tomato plants that are dying on the vine. You do know that you aren't going to get any tomatoes, don't you?”
“Of course I know that. Three more days, and I'll be out of here myself. It really is true. You can't go home again.”
“You got yourself a plum job in New York. You should be very proud of yourself. Two hospitals fighting over you isn't shabby. Is it really what you want, Sara?”
“For now.”
“That sounds so . . . I don't know, temporary.”
“I only signed the contract for a year. Where's Hank?”
“Putting our stuff in the car. What are you going to do today?”
“Take a long walk. I might go all the way to St. Boniface. Then maybe I'll go up the hill behind our old house. I like to sit at the top and look down at the town.”
Carly dropped to her knees. “The answers you're looking for aren't in this town, Sara. They're all locked up inside of you. You have the key. All you have to do is open the lock. By the way, have you heard from Dallas or Adam?”
“No, and I didn't expect to hear from them. Besides, Carly, this little town is at the end of the earth. They could never find me here in the Allegheny Mountains. Dallas and Adam are getting on with their lives just the way I am. Nellie calls every couple of days. She's working at the vet's office, and she loves it. She told me Adam donated the money for the new wings at Benton. I'm glad about that.”
“I hate to leave you, Sara. You look positively miserable.”
“That's your imagination. I'll grant you I am not dewy-eyed the way you are, but I am very contented.”
LIAR
.
“We'll write, Sara. Promise you will, too. A telephone call will be nice, too, once you get located. I'll let you know as soon as we get a nibble on the house. We are doing the right thing, aren't we? When and if we sell, we can pack it up together. I left all the utilities except the phone turned on.”
Sara sighed. “If you want to change your mind, it's okay with me. You and Hank can live in it.”
“If we sell it, that means we're homeless. You'll be living in some apartment in New York just waiting to get mugged and Hank and I will be in some shitty apartment somewhere trying to save money to build our own house. You can't put roots down in an apartment. The Killian girls will be homeless and rootless.”
Sara sighed again. “I hear Hank calling you. That man does get impatient.”
“Oh, but I can change that in a heartbeat.” Carly's voice was trilling. Sara found herself wincing at her sister's blatant sexual innuendo.
“I'm coming, I'm coming,” Carly called. “Listen, Sara, do you know what I would do if I were you? I'd call the Lord brothers to say hello. You know, before you move on to New York. You'll see them at the trial, but maybe you need to, you know, break the ice a little.”
“You aren't me and thanks but no thanks. Those two men are not part of my life. When are you going to understand that? My God, they didn't even send a note to thank me for returning the song.”
“The same time you understand it. Men aren't letter writers the way women are. I repeat, you look miserable. Give yourself a break. Do something you always wanted to do. Do it for yourself, Sara. Throw caution to the winds and go all out. It's such a wonderful feeling. If I had to liken it to something, I'd say the feeling is akin to flying.” As she pranced out of the way, Carly offered her parting shot. “In the years to come, I'd hate to have to refer to you as my old maid sister.”
Old maid sister.
“Come on, Sara, walk me to the car. Whose house did you say this was?”
“Dr. Peters, the dentist. Mom used to take us to him when we lived here. I went to school with Jim Peters. We used to call him Putts. Do you remember him?”
“Vaguely.”
“He's a sports writer in Buffalo, New York. One of the neighbors told me that. Nobody remembered me, Carly.”
“You said it yourself, Sara, you can't go home again. There are no answers here.”
“I know that now. Have a safe trip. I'll write as soon as I get settled. I'll send mail to the house, so you'll have to pick it up. Bye, Hank, drive carefully.”
Sara stood on the sidewalk and watched the car until it turned off Spangler Street and headed down toward the main street. Her eyes felt hot and gritty.
Homeless and rootless. Old maid sister.
Shoulders slumping, Sara headed back into the house and the back porch, where she finished her cold coffee. The tomatoes hadn't grown at all, and there was a new yellow leaf on the biggest plant. So what, she thought. So what.
 
 
“Hank, pull over. I have to go into the drugstore. It might take me a while to find what I want, so here are some Jujubes to keep you busy. Study the map so you don't get us lost. Don't blow the horn for me to hurry up either. This is a sedate little town, and people don't do things like that.”
Inside the drugstore, Carly looked around for a phone booth. She asked the pharmacist to give her five dollars' worth of change. She dialed the long-distance information operator, jotting down the number after the operator repeated it twice. Again she asked for the operator and placed a person-to-person call to either Adam Lord or Jack Piper. Adam answered.
“This is Carly Killian, Adam. Is it okay to call you Adam? Is . . . Jack there with you? He is. Good, put him on an extension. Is that you, Jack? Listen up. I'm in this little town in Pennsylvania called Hastings. Population around eleven hundred or so. I'm on my way back to California, but I thought I'd give you a call before I hit the interstate. My sister is miserable. She's leaving in three days for New York, where she has this wonderful opportunity to aid humanity and save lives and all that good stuff, but her heart isn't in it, and when your heart isn't in something, it doesn't work. She found out the hard way that you can't go home again. Whichever one of you two guys is in love with her better get on the stick before it's too late. If I'm wrong and neither one of you loves Sara, then I apologize for taking up your time. I've always heard silence is golden. Okay, I don't have anything else to say. You two guys have a good day, you hear?”
Carly dusted her hands dramatically. “This is the last time I'll interfere in your life, Sara. You're on your own now.” To the pharmacist she said, “I'll take two bags of Skittles and one bag of Gummi Bears.”
In the car Carly kicked off her shoes as she opened her bag of Skittles.
“You called them didn't you?”
“Yep.”
“What did they say?”
“Nothing. Nada. Zip. I left them speechless. Want some Skittles? They don't stick in your teeth like the Gummi Bears.”
“Which one is your money on?”
“That I don't know. I should know that, Hank. Why don't I?”
Hank looked across the seat at his brand-new wife. Which one do you think Sara is pining for?”

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