Mr. and Miss Anonymous. Fern Michaels
go, depart, vamoose. I will also turn out the lights. Good-bye, whoever you are.”
The phone rang almost immediately the moment the connection was broken. Ina ignored it as she set about turning out lights and gathering up her purse and other belongings.
Ina ran her fingers through her hair as she turned off the computer and straightened the calendar blotter to the middle of the desk. She looked Pete in the eye, and said, “I’m going to cash my check before they stop payment on it. Please, follow me out.” Pete and Lily had no other choice but to trail behind her. Winston followed, his eyes alert.
Ina was at her car, a maroon Honda Accord, when she turned to Pete. “I really hope you’re wrong about all this. I’m going to have a very hard time of it if I find out you’re right and I was even an unknowing part of this. I wish I wasn’t afraid of dogs. Winston seems like a nice one.”
Winston barked happily at the mention of his name.
The engine running, the window rolled down, Ina had one more thing to say. “I know I know you from somewhere. I never forget a face. It will come to me,” she muttered to herself as she drove away.
For the first time, Lily realized it was drizzling. “It’s raining!” How brilliant was that? “Now what?”
Pete looked down at the woman standing in front of him. Even with all that was going on he wanted to kiss her. Lily, reading his intentions lifted her head slightly. The world tilted, rocked, then tilted again. She knew she’d waited all her life for this moment. She said so when they finally drew apart.
“Damn!” was all Pete could think of to say. “Well, damn!”
Lily laughed. She linked her arm with Pete’s as she led him up the walkway to the fertility clinic.
What looked like a hastily printed sign that said CLOSED was taped to the door. Pete tried the door handle. It didn’t budge. He gave the stout metal door a hard kick. When nothing happened, he cursed under his breath.
“We could sit out here and wait for people to leave,” Lily said. “They can’t stay in there forever. There are eighteen cars in the parking lot. Staff, donors? Do we want to waste our time here? This is just a guess on my part, but I think the procedure at this clinic is the same as the one at the sperm bank. In short, Pete, we aren’t going to get any information. Maybe we should try the police or the FBI to see what if anything we can find out about the school. What do you think?”
Pete kicked the door again. “Okay, let’s try the police first even though the Feds are on it. Sometimes the police get pissy when the Feds stomp on their turf. They might be willing to give up something.”
“It’s worth a try,” Lily said.
“Lily…what just happened…it wasn’t because of…this, was it?”
“Way back when, we…you and I…we let the moment get away from us. I never forgot about you. I dreamed of you more often than I care to admit. Always, I wished we had gotten together somehow. I told myself that particular moment in time wasn’t right for us. These moments, right now, feel right to me.”
“Damn! Well, damn. That’s exactly how I feel. Felt. We’re not too bright, now, are we?”
Lily fiddled with the hat on her head. “Oh, I don’t know, Pete. I think that was a pretty bright move you executed back there in the parking lot. I was bright enough to respond. So where does that leave us?”
“How does ‘together’ sound?” Pete asked.
“I think it sounds perfect. Listen, Pete, are you sure you want to go public with all this? You’re so high-profile, I’m thinking it could damage your reputation. Stockholders are a funny lot. I’m nowhere near your league. I could use a different name. Zolly could help me. We could report back to you. I’m thinking out loud here.”
“It doesn’t matter. When this is all over, I’m retiring. I’m going to move out to my ranch in Montana. I made up my mind ages ago. It just took me a long time to get around to it. Right now, that’s my game plan. Can you see yourself living in Montana, Lily?”
Lily threw her head back and laughed. Her hat sailed away on a gust of wind. Winston chased it and caught it in midair before it could land in a puddle.
“It’s still pouring rain,” Pete commented.
“I know. I had a dream about us once. We were walking in a park in our bare feet in the rain. You were holding my hand. I wanted you to kiss me so bad. But there were other people walking in the rain, and you were shy. You actually admitted to being shy. I was so impressed that you were a sensitive guy.”
Pete listened intently. “Then what happened?”
Lily tried not to laugh. “I don’t know. I woke up. We could pretend we’re in the park right now.” To move things along, Lily removed her sandals. She reached for Pete’s hand and led him to the biggest puddle in the parking lot. She stomped in it. Pete joined her, then Winston joined them.
Zolly and Pete’s security team watched from their cars, their jaws dropping. Zolly clamped his hands over his eyes when the boss planted a liplock on his companion that lasted so long he didn’t think it was possible. He peeped between his fingers to see if either of them had suffocated.
“ ’Bout time, boss,” he muttered.
Chapter 7
It was like a Halloween night—wet and cold, the naked, arthritic trees bending under the torrential rains falling like raging rivers from the black hole in the sky.
The windowless concrete building had its own symphony of sounds to match those of the elements: rats skittering across the floor, the howling wind invading the dark space through the many cracks in the deserted old building. Even the cement floor offered up its own set of weird, frightening sounds.
It was obvious both occupants of the room were nervous because they jumped when an owl hooted its displeasure at the weather invading its space in the tree outside the concrete building.
The witches and goblins this night were mortal. One wore a power suit and shiny wing tips, and carried a briefcase that cost more than most mortals earned in a month. The other goblin—more boy than man—it was hard to tell—looked like he had just stepped off the soccer field, with the grass stains to prove it. And yet, he smelled like Ivory Soap.
Even in broad daylight, it would be hard to tell either person’s age—a teenager perhaps or a thirtysomething with a baby face. A nonthreatening goblin.
The power suit was a plain-looking man. Possibly in his late fifties. Definitely a pampered individual. Plain face, plain, thinning hair, plain stature. It was the suit, the shoes, the briefcase that shrieked power and money. Then again maybe it was the man’s arrogance, or the man’s defiant eyes—eyes black as the night.
The other man/boy hated the plain man. Hated and distrusted him. He waved his wrist in the general direction of the man—a test. A test to see if the power suit had any idea at all that what he thought was a heart monitor on his wrist was really a miniature digital recorder. In this line of business, you never knew what could go down in the blink of an eye. Satisfied, the man/boy held out his hand. The plain man slapped a thick brown envelope into his palm.
“It’s all there,” the plain man said.
“Yeah, well, I never take things for granted.” The man/boy stuck the small penlight between his teeth so that the powerful tiny light beamed down on the thick stack of currency inside the envelope. The man/boy counted slowly and methodically, spitting on his index finger from time to time when the bills stuck together.
Outside, the owl hooted again and again. The rain continued to river downward. Holes in the roof allowed spits of water to hit the dirty concrete floor with delicate little plopping sounds.
“I told you it was all there,” the plain man said when the man/boy shoved the thick envelope inside his zippered Windbreaker.