Controlling Interest (31 page)

As soon as they crossed the Alabama state line, a Crimson Tide flag went up on a short flagpole extending from the rear of the Winnebego. Never mind that Curtis finished high school in Citronelle, went straight into the navy, and then entered his father's dairy business. Anyone who lived in the state of Alabama had an obligation to declare loyalty to either Auburn or Alabama (the university). Curtis had always liked The Bear — a former football coach still held in religious esteem by alumni and fans — so he went for Bama. Therefore so did Jewel.

Therefore so did their children. Barbara, the eldest daughter, spent a couple of years at a local Baptist college, where she met her husband and dropped out after two years. The middle daughter married a boy who wanted in on the dairy industry, and the youngest, a son, followed his father's tradition of military service. He was killed in Desert Storm.

Yasmine learned all this family history as they traveled, playing endless games of Farkle, singing silly songs and hymns that Jewel's mother had taught her, and stopping every hour or two whenever the urge for ice cream, plow disks, or peaches struck. Yasmine almost — almost — forgot about being followed by Jarrar Haq.

But she couldn't forget Zach. As she watched the graduation ceremony, she imagined Zach walking across that big coliseum stage, shaking the hand of Dean So-and-So, and receiving his diploma. Later she sat in a nylon-webbed lawn chair beside the RV, eating slices of cantaloupe out of a paper bowl, and pictured him camping with his family. Roasting marshmallows over an open fire, teasing girl cousins with frogs and lizards, maybe chasing a dog through the woods or jumping fully clothed into a pond. This was the way he'd grown up.

For the first time, she wondered what would happen after she finally reunited with him. Maybe he loved her — surely he loved her. But an enormous cultural chasm stretched between them. How was she going to fit into his world?

On Thursday evening they drew up under the Hardys' covered RV port. They had reached Satsuma, Alabama — just an hour and a half from Zach's base. Terror and anticipation clawed her stomach.

Quietly she helped Jewel and Curtis unload the vehicle. Jewel seemed to realize how tired Yasmine was and kindly showed her to a quaintly furnished bedroom.

“Here you go, hon. You stay here as long as you want. Bathroom's two doors down on the right.” Jewel opened the closet and twitched through a few garments. “Jessica left some things last time she was here. Borrow whatever you need, okay?”

Yasmine nodded and looked around. A quilt, pieced to resemble interlocked wedding rings, covered a high double bed; two more handmade quilts were folded on top of a cedar chest at its foot. The furniture was old and heavy, stained a dark mahogany, and a blue rag rug lay upon a pine floor. A wall of shelves housed nearly a hundred or so dolls, all of them staring at Yasmine with blank eyes. The room had a faint odor of lilac.

“Mrs. Hardy?” Yasmine timidly called after her hostess.

Jewel appeared in the doorway of the family room. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Could I borrow your phone and call my sister? I will pay you — ”

“Oh, for goodness' sake, child. I should've thought of that a long time ago. You can use my cell phone and it won't cost us a thing. I'll be right back.” Jewel bustled to the kitchen and came back a moment later, digging in her purse for the cell phone. “Here. I'll be in the kitchen. Take your time.”

Yasmine sat down on the bed with the phone in shaking hands. Should she really call Liba? Her sister had a phone, but Ammi closely monitored its use.

The longing to hear a familiar voice overcame her fear. She pushed the numbers for Liba's cell phone.
Please, Lord, let her be alone.
The phone rang once, twice.

“Hello?” Liba sounded hesitant. She wouldn't have recognized this number.

Yasmine couldn't get out a word at first.

“Hello?” Liba said again, sounding impatient.

“Liba! It's me.” She started to cry.

“So Matt actually lived here with you for a while?” Natalie sat on the back stoop with Laurel. She petted the squirmy, panting, slobbering Colonel, whose eclectic parentage had blessed him with shaggy brown hair, long ears, and squatty legs on a muscular body. He was so ugly he was cute.

“Not exactly.” Laurel grabbed the dog to keep him from slurping Natalie's face. “Matt lived here last fall, house-sitting while we were in Montgomery. He was pretty broke when George Field went down. You don't get paychecks from crooks.”

Natalie absently scratched Colonel behind the ears. “No wonder he took my dad on as a partner.”

“Your dad's a detective too?”

“Ha. He can't find his car keys half the time. But he's a great salesman and has a talent for making money. He needed a tax shelter. So when he ran across Matt's ad on a business website, he bought in.” Natalie scratched under Colonel's collar. “Turns out Daddy planned all along to give me a share — he's very generous with me and the twins. I just wish he'd told Matt right from the beginning.”

“So Matt didn't know he was getting a real partner?”

“No. And he was plenty resentful.” Looking up, she found sympathy in the judge's deep brown eyes. Natalie suddenly realized she had a golden opportunity for wise counsel. “Laurel, you know Matt. Is he ever going to forgive me for barging in on his space? Or should I back off and find some other way to do what I've always dreamed of doing?”

Laurel hesitated. “Emotions aren't always trustworthy. But sometimes a cold, clinical decision isn't best either. What's the wise and loving thing to do — for Matt?”

The way the question was put stung Natalie. “For Matt? What about me?”

“What about you? Do you want what you want at his expense? Because if you do, that's not love.”

“How do you know . . .” Natalie swallowed. She'd thought she was covering her feelings. “It's insane to think you love someone you've only known for a week.”

“I wouldn't have advised it.” Laurel smiled. “But if you want to give this thing a chance to grow, you'd better be careful. At the very least, Matt's your brother in Christ, and he deserves to be treated as such.”

“Whoa. What does that mean? I thought I was doing that.”

“Among other things, love isn't self-seeking. It always protects, trusts, hopes, and perseveres.”

“First Corinthians. I was just reading that the other night on the boat. Are you telling me you always give in to Cole, no matter what he wants?”

Laurel raised her brows. “Do I look like a pushover to you? Of course not. The
wise
thing, the
loving
thing.” She looked at her linked fingers a moment, then smiled at Natalie. “You and I just met. But you asked, right?”

Natalie nodded.

“Okay, then.” Laurel leaned forward. “You've got several things going on here. One is your career, another is your love life. But the most critical issue is your and Matt's relationship to God. If that's not right, you don't have a chance at a happy marriage.”

Natalie winced. “I knew that. Deep down I know that. But I get so impatient, waiting on him!”

“Waiting on who? God or Matt?” Laurel's eyes lit.

“Both!” Natalie gave a weak laugh. “Matt kissed me the other day, and you'd have thought he'd jumped off a cliff he was so scared. Me and my big mouth — I blurted out that I was feeling something for him, and that made it worse.”

“I bet. Most men will go with the path of least resistance, just because it's easy. But they're not satisfied if the challenge is gone. They want security, admiration, and respect, but they also want to lead. If I were you, I'd relax and give him a little more room. Make him take responsibility for his part of the relationship.” Laurel tipped her head. “That will probably take care of the career thing too. Once he sees that you're not hounding him, not trying to take his agency away — you're just trying to help him succeed — I bet you'll be his best friend.”

“That's what I want.” Natalie blinked against watery eyes. “More than anything. Why didn't I see that?”

“Love is blind,” Laurel sighed, “not to mention deaf and dumb.” She winked and patted her swollen belly. “But it sure is fun.”

Matt sat across from Natalie at Laurel's elegantly appointed dining table, diligently avoiding her gaze. The problem was, she didn't seem to be aware of it. She was engrossed in making Cole laugh at her conversation with Silky O'Sullivan's goat.

Laurel smiled. “You two have had some adventures.”

“We've met a lot of great people.” Natalie reached for the roll basket. “Eaten some amazing food.”

“Spent the night in jail. Went three days without a bath.” Matt made a face. “Welcome to the glamorous world of investigation.”

“At one time you were talking about getting out of the business.” Cole touched Laurel's shoulder as he got up to stack plates. “Keep your seat, babe, I'll get dessert.”

Matt looked away from Natalie's questioning gaze. “Depends on how this case works out. Nat and I have a deal. If she finds our heiress first, she gets a full partnership. In that case, I sell her my share. If I find her, Natalie sells to me.”

Cole paused in the kitchen doorway, eyebrows raised. “What happens if you never find Yasmine? Is there a deadline?”

“Yeah, the wedding date. The first of June.” Matt stared at Natalie's downcast face. He'd brought up the issue on the way to Mobile and knew she wasn't happy with it. But he couldn't keep working with her day after day and maintain this weird friendship.

And he wasn't quite willing to turn it into something else.

Fortunately, his cell phone rang before he could commit further acts of verbal hari-kari. He checked the ID. “Eddie! Where are you?”

“The office.” Eddie's stentorian voice blared loud enough for everyone at the table to hear. “What in the world's going on down there? I didn't buy your company so you could run off with my daughter. You're supposed to be working on a case.”

“We
are
working on the case. We're making progress. Yasmine's headed to Pensacola, and we're right behind her.” Matt glanced at Natalie, whose eyes were wary.

“You should have caught her by now. I'm getting phone calls from Abid Patel five or six times a day, not to mention harassment by the fiancé — Haq. Poor fellow's beside himself.”

“Haq's been calling you?” Matt glanced at Natalie. Carothers's warning to keep his mouth shut came to mind. “Eddie, there's something not right about that guy.”

“I don't blame him for being upset. You were supposed to find the Patel girl before she left Memphis. This thing has gotten completely out of hand. Natalie said there would be no hotels involved. Now I find out you've been on a cruise!”

“Just a minute, Eddie.” Matt covered the phone with his hand. Natalie was frowning, and Laurel's expression was a study in curiosity and amusement. “Excuse me, I'm going out to the screen porch to finish this call.” He rose and tossed his napkin on the table. Reaching the porch, he shut the door behind him, but didn't feel like sitting. He took a deep breath and uncovered the phone. “Alright, Eddie, calm down. The only reason Nat and I went on the cruise is because a Russian cocktail waitress locked us in the kitchen pantry.”

Eddie's voice rose. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Matt paced the length of the porch, skirting the huge bulk of Laurel's Siamese, Charles Wallace, who appeared to be asserting his right of primogenitor. “Okay, well, we were only in there a couple of hours before she let us out. And Natalie was asleep part of the time.”

“What happened the rest of the time?”

“Well, I . . .” He'd kissed her and humiliated her.
Next subject.
“Like I said, we weren't in there for long. Then Natalie stayed with the Russian girl, and I bunked with the cook. On the complete opposite end of the boat,” he added desperately. “Once we got to New Orleans we headed straight for the rental company and came here. Pretty much, that's it.”