Past Lies. Bobby Hutchinson

Past Lies - Bobby  Hutchinson


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read the letters many times over, but the answer was still elusive.

      Whatever it was, Alex had come here to find it.

      IVY KNOCKED at her cousin’s door and, without waiting for a response, opened it, hoping to find Sage alone.

      “Hey, Sage? You home?”

      “Up here, Ivy.” Sage’s voice floated down from the second floor. Ivy trotted up the wide staircase and reached the top just as Sage burst out of a doorway down the hall, long, dark curls bouncing as she grabbed Ivy in a hug. She was shorter than Ivy, maybe five-six, with a perfect oval face and a rounded, sexy body.

      “I heard the copter earlier, I was hoping you’d come over.” She released Ivy and stepped back, holding both of her hands. “Another ten minutes and I’d have come looking for you, my friend.” Her deep-set eyes glowed with pleasure.

      “I missed you. How was your trip?” Ivy noticed the dark shadows under her friend’s blue eyes, and the sadness there. “You okay, Sage?”

      The nod she gave wasn’t reassuring. “The trip was the usual hoopla, meeting prospective clients, doing PR, schmoozing at dinner. Ben’s so much better at that than I am. It always feels phony to me.” Her rich contralto voice quavered a little as she added, “And now I’ve got my period. Again.”

      “Damn. I’m really sorry, Sage.” Ivy knew her friend had been trying for some time to get pregnant.

      “Yeah. Me, too.” She frowned. “Ben’s pushing me to go to Anchorage—there’s a new fertility clinic at the hospital there. But I keep hoping it’ll still happen the old-fashioned way.” She sounded frustrated and angry. “I keep reminding him we’ve only been married three years, but he insists I should’ve been pregnant twice by now, seeing how his first wife managed it before they were even married.” She pointed at the stairs. “C’mon, let’s go down and have a coffee, I just made a fresh pot. Ben’s still out with those Japanese fishermen, so we’ve got the place to ourselves.”

      Ivy felt relieved that they’d have time to talk privately. “One quick coffee, I can’t stay long. Dylan’s taking me out for dinner.”

      “Aha. So have things heated up between you two?”

      “Nope. Try the opposite, at least for me. He’s hot, I’m not. I think I’m going to tell him tonight that he’s a wonderful guy, but the chemistry just isn’t right between us.”

      Sage led the way to the well-equipped kitchen and retrieved two mugs. “You sure of that? Maybe it’ll be the sort of thing that grows over time.” She poured, added a dollop of cream and handed Ivy a mug.

      Ivy dropped onto a high stool by the breakfast bar. “You actually believe that’s possible? That love would grow over time?”

      Sage sat as well. Her wide eyes narrowed and, after a moment, she shook her head, making her thick dark curls bounce. “Not in my experience, that’s for certain. I met Ben and within three seconds I was a goner.”

      “That’s never, ever happened to me.” She thought it over and amended, “Well, sexually, maybe, but emotionally, no.”

      “Not even with Noah?” Sage knew all about the Alaska State Trooper Ivy had come close to marrying some years ago.

      “No. I did love Noah, but I loved flying more.” She gave Sage a wry look. “I figure my wiring’s screwed up. I fall in love with planes instead of people.”

      “Talk about safe sex.” Sage giggled.

      “Talk about no sex, is more like it.”

      “You and Dylan haven’t—?”

      Ivy shook her head. “Nada. He’s pushing, that’s why I’m opting out.”

      “Maybe you should give him a shot. Sometimes guys surprise you…that way.”

      “I’m sure he’s good in the sack. He’s a doctor, he’s bound to know where things are and how they work. I’m just not interested. He doesn’t turn me on.”

      “Well, from what I hear, this Tahoe Glen guy would be happy to take over. He practically salivates each time he looks at you, according to Mavis.”

      “God, for someone who never comes out of the kitchen, that woman picks up on everything. Nope, no Glen, either. I’m taking a sabbatical.”

      “Well, I’m not. I’m ordering a couple of new nighties and some hot underwear from Victoria’s Secret. Something to drive Ben wild during my fleeting fertile moments.”

      “You don’t need nighties, Sage. You could turn guys on wearing a parka.”

      “Only if there was nothing underneath.”

      They laughed. Reluctantly, Ivy finished her coffee and got to her feet.

      “Gotta go dump Dylan,” she groaned.

      “Wait until after dinner,” Sage advised. “It’s easier to do on a full stomach, and you don’t want to get left with the bill if he walks out. But you don’t need my advice, you’re an expert at it.”

      “Professional dumper. Remind me to put that on my résumé.” As she left, Ivy was pleased to see that Sage looked a little more cheerful.

      IT WAS FUN TO JOKE with Sage about dumping guys, Ivy acknowledged on the flight back to Valdez. But it was beginning to concern her. She wasn’t that far off thirty. She wanted kids as much as Sage did, although without the growing desperation she sensed in her friend.

      Why didn’t Ben just let up on the kid thing? He had twin daughters from a previous marriage, it wasn’t as if he had no heirs. But that was Ben, he’d get something in his head and run with it until everyone wanted to throttle him. Her charismatic cousin wasn’t easy to live with.

      But she envied Sage the passionate relationship the two of them shared. What was it like to be a goner three minutes after meeting someone? For some reason Ivy thought of the man she’d met tonight, the guy with the Russian name.

      Alex Ladrovik. Now wasn’t that straight out of a spy novel? But she couldn’t see him as James Bond, she decided, banking the copter for the landing at Up And Away. In spite of being a carpenter, he actually struck her more as the professor type, with his dark-rimmed glasses and that lean, intelligent face. Although he did have a kind of dark look to him, a touch mysterious. Sexy black eyes. Unruly hair, soft and golden-brown, tumbling over his forehead. Slow, deep voice, as if he thought carefully about what he was saying. And that strong jaw surely indicated a stubborn nature.

      He might look like a prof, but his hands were those of a carpenter, tough and calloused, scarred and veined. No rings, she’d noticed when he hung on to her hand longer than he needed to. There’d been an awareness there, all right, certainly on his side. He’d given her the look.

      And she’d found him interesting. But a goner? She blew out a long breath. No goner, Ladrovik, sorry about that.

      Not by a long shot.

      CHAPTER SIX

      You’ll probably get a bundle of these letters all together, Linda, because I’m writing them from the boat, and there won’t be a chance to mail anything until we reach Valdez.

      From letters written by Roy Nolan,

       April, 1972

      BY THE END OF THE FOLLOWING week, Ivy had forgotten all about Alex Ladrovik. She hadn’t quite managed to forget the devastated expression on Dylan’s face, however, when she told him it was over between them. Dumping nice guys wasn’t her idea of a good time, but fortunately she was far too busy to spend time feeling guilty.

      Business had taken off and both she and Tom were flying their fool heads off, as he described it. Ivy had just landed a lucrative contract she’d wanted ever since they’d leased the Bell Ranger, patrolling the pipeline once a week, checking for leaks and damage.


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