Forever Young: Blessing or Curse (Always Young Trilogy) (32 page)

The
plastic surgeon arrived a few hours later to make his grim pronouncement of
irreparable damage, confirming Roman’s deduction. He should never have
forgotten his motto. Why hadn’t he looked out for Number One?  

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Dressed
and set to go, Dorrie sat in the driver’s seat. Darkness surrounded the car,
tempting her to give in to  her weariness. It wouldn’t hurt to rest a bit
to avoid an accident. She closed her eyes.

Before
she knew it, sunlight streamed through the windows. She’d slept longer than
she’d intended, and had to get away. Unfortunately, hunger and other needs dictated
she make a stop first.

She
found a fast food joint in Flagstaff and pulled up. When she stepped outside
the car, she immediately felt the difference in temperatures between Flagstaff
and Phoenix. Shivering and self-conscious in her flannel shirt, baggy pants,
punk cut and black-framed glasses, she made her way to the front door.

First
things first. She made a beeline for the ladies room to relieve her bladder,
and barely glanced at herself in the mirror as she washed her hands. She then
lumbered to the counter and leaned on it for support as she placed her order
for a breakfast platter and milk.

After
she’d retreated to a booth, she stared at the nearby television screen, and
half listened to the sports highlights. The weather came next, reporting
temperatures for the state and country. It may be a cool forty-five degrees in
Flagstaff, but the national weather showed zero and snow in Wisconsin. Be that
as it may, she’d still rather be there than here.

An
urgent voice interrupted the broadcast, awakening Dorrie from her wistful
state.
Ladies and gentlemen, this just in. Dorrie Donato, spokeswoman for
the Life is for Living Institute, is wanted by the police for shooting a
maintenance man and throwing acid onto the face of her employer, Roman Remington.

This
woman is armed and dangerous, so don’t be fooled by her pregnant condition. She
was last seen in the Scottsdale area wearing an emerald green dress, and
driving a powder blue Hyundai, with the Arizona license plate now flashing on
the screen. If you spot this woman, call the authorities immediately. Do not
attempt to apprehend her. Remember, she is armed and dangerous.

Dorrie
stifled a gasp, and watched mesmerized as the report was followed by one of her
infomercials. She felt exposed, as if everyone in the room knew who she was.
 

Stay
calm. They can’t tell it’s me. I look totally different.

In
horrid fascination, she stared at the continued coverage.
And now, for a
live interview from our reporter, Don Whiddom. “Folks, I’m here in the hospital
room of the famous Angel Man, Roman Remington, founder of the Life is for
Living Institute. Mr. Remington, I must say this event is a terrible tragedy
for you and the viewing audience. If what you state is true, and I have no
reason to doubt you, Ms. Donato is unbalanced and a danger to the public.
Reliving the experience must be excruciating for you, in light of your personal
cost. Are you up to describing what happened?”

Dorrie
stifled a groan. The announcer had it all wrong. She hadn’t done any of that.

The
camera switched to the hospital bed, where Roman, right side of his face
swathed in bandages, lay.
Holding her breath, she waited for Roman to
vindicate her.

After
a pause, he began.
“This situation is distressing to the extreme, not only
because of the damage to my personal being, but also for my loss of faith in
someone I’d held in high regard. Not everyone knows this, but Ms. Donato is the
widow of one of our Institute’s employees who’d been killed in a tragic
hit-and-run accident on our grounds. I felt sorry for her, and offered her a
job as spokesperson for my product, the Forever Young pill. Since everyone is
already familiar with it, I won’t bore you with the pill’s details. Suffice it
to say, she jumped at the opportunity. She fell in love with her reverted looks
and wasn’t bashful about showing them off. Everything went fine until one day I
noticed she’d put on weight. I warned her to lay off the sweets.

“Well,
she must have starved herself, because her figure improved dramatically. I was
unaware of Mrs. Donato’s true condition until she was well into her pregnancy
and it couldn’t be disguised. At that point, I reminded her of danger to the
child and ordered her to stop taking the young pill since it was not designed
for pregnant women. I offered her a supervisory position instead, which she
appeared to accept.

“Three
months went by, the usual time for the pill’s effects to wear off, yet Ms.
Donato still looked young. It was obvious she had not done as I’d suggested.
She was that anxious to stay young.”

“But
how did she get the pills? Aren’t you the one who doles them out?”
the reporter asked.

“Unfortunately,
before I knew of her condition, I’d already given her a six months’ supply. I
should have demanded the pills back immediately when I learned of her
pregnancy, but I had no reason to doubt her assurances she’d discontinue their
use.”

“What
happened when you learned she hadn’t stopped?”

“My
blood boiled. Not only had she disobeyed my instructions, but also placed her
child at risk. I demanded she return the pills in her possession, but she
refused. I told her she’d get no more from me, and I fired her then and there.”

“May
I interject, if I were in your shoes, I’d have done the same.”

Roman
nodded, then grimaced.
“Obviously, she didn’t see it that way. The next day
she followed me into the men’s room, clutching a gun in one hand and an acid
vial in the other. She spotted my congenitively deformed maintenance man
exiting a stall, then spouted something about growing old and ugly, and plugged
him in the shoulder. As soon as she shot him, before I knew it, she’d turned
and flung the vial’s contents at me, then fled, leaving me with a burnt and
pealing face. By the time the paramedics arrived and I’d gotten to the
hospital, the damage was done. According to the plastic surgeon, I’ll never be
the same.”

 “What
about your young pill? Can’t you take it and revert back to when your looks
weren’t destroyed?”

 “If
only it were that simple. Maybe later it might be possible, but right now a
conflict exists between my present drugs and the young pill.”

The
reporter shook his head.
“What a horrible loss for you. I certainly hope
that someday your looks can again reflect the Angel Man you are. Thank you for
reliving your painful experience with us, Mr. Remington. I, as well as all of
your faithful followers, wish you a speedy recovery and a fast return to your
former self. We’ll pray this vixen is apprehended and receives her just and
lawful punishment.”

A
male voice interrupted Dorrie’s fixation with the television screen.

“Miss,
Miss, I called your number twice. Your food’s getting cold. Don’t you want it?”

Nothing
like drawing attention to herself. Where were her brains? Nodding, Dorrie
stumbled up to the counter, where, off to the side, another television blared.
Had the clerk been watching?

“Sorry,
I drove all night and I’m half asleep. Thanks.”

“No
problem,” he said, handing over the breakfast platter and milk.

She
was about to turn away when he said, “Say, don’t I know you from somewhere?”

Heart
hammering, she said, “No, I don’t think so, but I get that all the time. People
always think I look like someone they know.”

He
nodded in seeming satisfaction with her answer, and turned to help another
customer.

It
wouldn’t do to look conspicuous by bolting out the door, so she forced herself
to sit down again and try to eat. From time to time, she glanced at the clerk
to make sure he wasn’t staring at her or picking up the phone to call the
police. Apparently, he hadn’t made the connection. She tried to relax, but the
enormity of Roman’s betrayal overwhelmed her, making her eyes sting. She’d
feared he’d have second thoughts, but never dreamt he’d go this far.

Her
appetite had vanished, but with shaky hands and pounding heart she forced the
eggs, ham, English muffin and milk down. With the plate finally cleared, Dorrie
grabbed her purse and lumbered out of the restaurant.

Once
inside her car, she swallowed hard to keep the food from rising back up. She
still couldn’t believe Roman had turned on her like that, after going to such
lengths to defend her from the gnome. It didn’t make sense. 

Then
it dawned on her. Somehow his generous act had backfired. The gnome had struck
back, exacting revenge in the most hurtful way possible, by damaging what Roman
prized most, his pride-and-joy looks. Knowing Roman, he’d do anything to get
them back. The gnome would hold them over his head, tantalizing him with the
possibility of regaining the loss. Poor Roman. If it weren’t for his heroic
gesture, he’d still be the Angel Man, living the high life, instead of
wallowing in misery.

No
matter how much she sympathized with him, she daren’t waste time obsessing over
his problem when she had her own to deal with. Before, she’d only been
concerned about whether the gnome or Roman would follow her. Now the scope had
widened. Unbelievable as it seemed, she, who’d never so much as gotten a
parking ticket, was now on the lam, hunted like a common criminal. At first
glance, her disguise might seem foolproof, but a discerning eye could see
through it, especially if that person glimpsed her car and plates.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

She’d
try Keith again. Though he lived miles away, maybe he’d offer a solution.
Dorrie grabbed her cell phone from under the seat, checked the contact list for
the number, then dialed Keith from the cash paid, no-frills phone she’d bought
at Wal-Mart. The phone rang four times. She expected it to go into voice mail
again, but at the last second, Keith answered.

“Keith,
it’s me, Dorrie.”

“I
hope you’re somewhere safe. I was pulled in on an emergency project at Chicago
Chem right after we spoke. I was there all night, and just got home a little
while ago.”

“So
you haven’t watched TV, or listened to the radio?”

“Hardly.”

“Then
you don’t know the latest. Hang onto your shoelaces. You won’t believe this.
I’m a wanted woman.”

“Come
off it, Dorrie. Is that for real?”

“It
sounds implausible, but believe me, what I’m about to tell you is gospel.”

When
she was through filling him in, he sighed. “I’ll take your word for it, Dorrie.
I don’t know this Roman guy from Adam, but you, I’ve known almost forever. By
the way, you don’t have GPS or or any other location services on, do you?
 If so, turn them off immediately. Damn, I just thought of something else.
The police will check the phone records and see if you called me.”

“No
fear. I’ve considered all that. I’m using a handy-dandy, no frills phone.”

“At
any rate, they might decide to stake out my place, so you better not come here.
Let’s see. There has to be an out somewhere. Let me think.”

The
side door of the restaurant flew open. Someone emerged, carrying a trash bag
and headed for the bin. About to pass the car, he stopped and did a double
take. It didn’t take a genius to read his lips, which formed, “It’s you.”

Wouldn’t
you know it was the same clerk who’d waited on her. He’d seen the bulletins,
now her car, and was making the connection. Her mind froze. What should she do?

She
dropped the cell onto the seat. “I’ve got to go,” she yelled, not knowing if
Keith heard her.

Heart
hammering, Dorrie backed out and gunned the motor. What a dumb thing to do,
making the call from there. She’d practically asked to get caught. She wasn’t
operating on full gear or she’d never have stayed in this lot after watching
the accounts on television.

As
she drove, the snow began to fall. A sign for a police station ahead made her
heart drop. She passed a grammar school, some fast food restaurants, a hospital
and a church, before landing before a huge sculpture marking the entrance to
Buffalo Park.

She
followed Gemini Drive to the parking area, where other vehicles were clustered.
Their presence would be a blessing, forming a shield from prying eyes. Also,
the flurries would obscure her plates and the car’s color.  

Feeling
somewhat safe, she picked up the phone and called Keith back. He had to be
worried about the abrupt ending to their call. “Sorry about that. Someone
spotted my car so I had to get out before the cops came. Good grief, I can’t
believe I said that. This is so insane. Did you come up with any ideas?”

“I’ll
call you back.”

Half
an hour later, her safe cell rang. “Okay, I’m on a different cell. Steve wants
to help and we’ve come up with a plan. He’s been watching a cottage for his
friends in Portage and will be glad to pick you up and take you there, where
you can stay until the owners come back. It’s far enough from Tomahawk to be
safe, plus it’s not connected to any of our names. Will that work for you?”