Authors: Karen Duvall
"That'll
take forever."
His
eye began to twitch. "If you have a better idea, I'd like to hear it."
She
ignored him and glanced in the backseat. "We could have gotten an earlier
start if you hadn't picked up Cody from the vet. I thought you said he needed
to stay there overnight."
He
angled the rearview mirror to get a glimpse of the coyote, who lay sleeping on
the backseat. In hindsight, maybe he should have left him at the vet, but he
wanted to keep an eye on his progress. "Cody's my right-hand man, and I
depend on him to create distractions while I do my job."
"I
thought I'd be your right-hand man this time," Kelly said, pushing herself
deeper into the seat. "Or should I say right-hand woman. I can create
distractions if you show me how."
He
reminded himself that bringing her along was a good idea. What had happened
this morning in his cabin was too close for comfort. If Sam hadn't arrived when
he had, she might have ended up back at Star Mother's camp and been subjected
to whatever new means of mind control the cult had developed. The thought made
him clench his jaw against his simmering, five-year-old rage.
He
felt responsible for Kelly, but that wasn't all that raised his hackles. He
cared about her. He'd been attracted to women in the past, even had a few
meaningless flings while living in the dozens of towns his intervention
operation had sent him to, but what he felt for Kelly was different. After
their long talk this morning, his perception of her had changed. It pleased him
to realize a friendship was developing between them. He admired her
independence, even her willfulness, as aggravating as it was. And he admired
the subtle sweetness that peeked through now and then. He enjoyed her company.
Sam
understood her reasons for closing herself off, and he respected her for them.
He was even grateful. Because if anything more intimate were to develop between
them, it would have to be
after
a
successful intervention with Jake, not before. This job required his full
concentration, and they couldn't afford distractions. So until the time was
right, he'd keep his feelings to himself. The invisible wall she'd built around
herself would make that easy.
"How
much farther?" Kelly asked.
"Not
much," Sam said. "The diner's straight ahead. I see the sign."
She
leaned forward and squinted. "You've got to be kidding. There's really a
place called 'Bill's Eats'?"
"What
amazes me is that a hole-in-the-wall diner out in the boonies would have an
Internet connection." He pulled into the graveled parking lot, waving away
the dust his tires stirred into a cloud that whirled through the open windows.
Kelly
coughed. "Can I wait for you out here?"
"Not
a good idea."
"Cody
will protect me."
Sam
peered in the backseat at Cody, who cocked his head at a quizzical angle. "I
don't think so. He won't be protecting anyone for a couple of hours yet, so I'd
rather you stay with me for now."
She
offered him a flirtatious smile, looking pleased with his suggestion instead of
giving him attitude. Kelly was a complicated woman. One minute she was mad at
him, the next she seemed excited over everything he did.
"
Madame
?" He offered her his arm,
half expecting her to slap it away. "May I escort you to the dining room?"
Her
smile broadened, and she giggled, slipping her warm, soft hand in the crook of
his arm. "My pleasure,
monsieur
."
Sam
hardly noticed the hot wind that blew road dirt into a dust storm around them
as they approached the diner's greasy front door. A twig from a tumbleweed
landed in Kelly's hair, and he gingerly plucked it out.
She
gazed up at him, smiling warmly. Her attention flicked from him to the door,
and she slipped her hand from his arm. Her cheerful expression vanished, and
the mischievous light left her eyes. "We better hurry. The day will be
over before we know it."
The
woman was like a light switch: on one minute, off the next. He'd be damned if
he'd ever figure her out. He swung his hand toward the door and bowed. "After
you."
Not
waiting for him to open it for her, Kelly yanked it wide and entered, with Sam
just a few steps behind.
He
quickly identified the diner's owner, who was a slight man in his late fifties
with thinning gray hair that hadn't seen a comb in days. The man's T-shirt
appeared amazingly white against the grease-spotted apron tied across his
paunch.
When
Sam placed his hand at the small of Kelly's back to steer her forward, she
jumped.
Why
was she so nervous? "Are you okay?" he asked, genuinely concerned. He
hoped she wasn't acting this way because of something he’d said.
"Fine,"
she said, using the same clipped tone she had used last night when they'd
arrived at his cabin. "Bathroom."
He pointed
at a restroom sign at the end of an aisle flanked by a dozen empty booths. "I'll
go talk to this guy for a minute. You want anything? Hungry? Thirsty?"
"Diet
Coke," she said, and walked stiffly down the narrow aisle toward the
restrooms.
****
Once
inside the bathroom, Kelly chastised herself for behaving like a lovesick
teenager. She hadn't flirted like that since high school. How embarrassing.
She
stared at her bedraggled reflection in the dirty mirror above a pair of ancient
porcelain sinks. Tangles of chestnut hair hung limply to her shoulders, her
tanned face void of makeup. It made her wide-set eyes look flat and
unappealing. They'd left the cabin in a rush so she hadn't had time to fix her
hair or makeup, which was why she'd brought her backpack along. She reached
inside, digging past the small cassette player that held the tape of her father's
message, and grabbed her brush from the bottom.
"You're
hopeless," she said to her reflection while raking the brush through her
tangled mop. An intelligent, handsome man like Sam deserved better than a plain
Jane like her.
"You
talkin' to me?" came a voice from the bathroom stall behind her.
"No!"
Kelly spun around to face an old woman emerging from the stall. "Sorry. I
didn't know anyone was in here."
"S'alright,"
said the woman, who teetered a bit as she made her way to one of the sinks. "I'd
agree with ya if ya was. I'm 'bout as hopeless as they come."
"No,
ma'am," Kelly said, embarrassment making her face hot. "I was talking
to myself."
The
older woman leaned close to the mirror to inspect her heavily penciled eyebrows
and brightly rouged cheeks. "My word, but I wish I had your skin. And
those eyes! Deary, God blessed you with the face of an angel."
Kelly's
blush deepened. "Thank you."
"Now
what's this about bein' hopeless?"
She
shrugged and glanced at the bathroom door, worried that Sam would overhear even
though she knew that was impossible.
The
woman chuckled. "I seen you and your fella through the winda soon as you
pulled up. My, but he's a looker. I gather he thinks the same of you."
Self-conscious,
Kelly ran her fingers through her hair. "Not likely."
Frowning,
the woman said, "Quite the gentleman, ain't he, the way he offered you his
arm and bowed. I know a smitten man when I see one."
Smitten?
Yeah, right. "I wish."
"You're
sweet on him, ain't ya?"
She
nodded. It felt odd to confide such things to a stranger, but why not? She had
nothing to lose, and it wasn't like the old woman would say anything to Sam.
"I've
been around men all my life," Kelly said. "Everyone in my family is
male, but this man—his name's Sam—is different." Different
because he cared and because she could trust him. Sam seemed to like her for
who she was, and he even paid attention to what was important to
her
. He'd opened up and shared some
painful parts of his past, as she had shared hers with him. It was too bad
unhappy childhoods were about all they had in common.
She
sighed. "I don't think I'm Sam's type."
"Nonsense,"
the old woman said, patting Kelly on the arm. "I seen the way he looked at
ya. Just let him know how ya feel."
If
only it were that simple. "You don't understand."
Unoffended,
the woman gave her another friendly pat and said, "Give it a try, deary.
You might be surprised." She shuffled out the door, leaving Kelly by
herself.
Could
Sam be as attracted to her as she was to him? Maybe the old woman was right.
She should tell Sam how she felt and let fate take its course.
She
stepped into one of the stalls to use the toilet, and while she was in there,
she heard the bathroom door open and swing shut. More company. She listened for
someone to enter the stall beside her, then strained to hear a sink running.
But all was quiet. Maybe whoever it was had just come in to check her makeup
and left.
Lugging
her backpack off the floor, Kelly pulled the stall door open and stopped.
Someone stood facing the mirror, and it wasn't a woman. It was Jake.
He
turned to face her, his gaunt face looking peaceful and full of joy at the
sight of her. "Kelly. It's about time you showed up. What took you so
long?"
Her
heart sped up as she glanced around the bathroom for anyone else. She crouched
down to peer under the second stall.
"I'm
alone," he assured her, but she didn't believe him. There had to be
someone with him, someone who drove a beat-up blue van.
"How
did you know I'd come here?" she asked, trying to mask the suspicion in
her voice. She was thrilled to see him but couldn't ignore her trepidation
after what had happened that morning.
"We
know how The Arrow works." He stared at her, his blue eyes dull, sunken
and unfocused. "I made sure to send a transmission from this IP address so
that he'd track me here. And I'd hoped he would bring you along. Are you ready
to go?"
"Go
where?"
"To
Star Mother's camp. The starship will arrive in a couple of days, and we must
prepare for the voyage."
Hands
shaking, she unzipped her pack and pulled out the tiny cassette player. This
might be her only chance. "I have something for you, Jake. It's a message
from Dad."
His
expression suddenly changed to something more familiar. He looked curious,
reminiscent of when he was a boy. "Dad has a message for
me
?"
"I
recorded it so you could hear it for yourself." She pressed the play
button and turned up the volume. His expression went from curious to angry as
he listened to her challenge their father's reason for wanting his children
back. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.
Jake's
face reddened, his pale neck blotchy with the heat of contained rage, which
abruptly dissipated when he heard their father say he had cancer.
"Cancer,"
Jake said softly, leaning closer to the cassette player. She turned the volume
up.
Jake's
expression looked doubtful when their father said he loved him, but he perked
up when the conversation sounded as if directed right at him.
"Jake,
son," their father said, his voice sounding tinny through the tiny speaker
in the cassette player. "Please come home, boy. I was an idiot for kicking
you out of the house, and I want to make it up to you. Remember the computer
college you wanted to go to? I have all the booklets and brochures waiting for
you here, and I've talked to the counselor at your high school. You can take
correspondence courses for the last few credits you need to graduate. It'll be
great, son! Your room is just as you left it, and I even bought you a new
computer. It has all your favorite computer games, and I got Internet cable
that makes all that web stuff faster than a phone line. Listen to your sister
now." His voice turned gruffer and a little hesitant when he added, "Jake,
I love you. And I want you to come home."
Kelly
watched, transfixed, as her brother's eyes welled. One tear spilled over and
left a pale trail through the grime that darkened his cheeks.
"Jake?"
she whispered in the wake of the player's empty hiss. "Are you okay?"
He
dropped to his knees in front of her, his face screwed up in anguish, his chin
quivering. He reached for the player in her hand, and she gave it to him.
"Dad,"
he said to it, his voice hoarse with emotion. "What you saw between me and
Mike wasn't what you thought. I'm not gay. I really like girls and..." He
broke down, silent sobs making his thin shoulders shake.
Kelly's
heart swelled. She'd done it. Jake was coming home!
Now
to get Sam in here.
The
tiny bathroom window shattered, and two men dropped in through it, landing on
their feet amidst shards of broken glass.
****
Sam
glanced around the seedy diner, taking in the battered fifties decor that was
probably the original stuff. The large picture windows were filmy with cooking
grease, and the stained linoleum made him queasy.