01 Untouchable - Untouchable (29 page)

I even considered tearing up to see if
that would sway him, but that was just too mean, so I reluctantly
slipped into the comfortable passenger’s seat.

I was all ooh’s and aah’s as he brought
the engine to life and backed out onto the drive.

He looked over at me for a long moment
and finally said, “On the way home, but just for a little
while.”

I squealed; he laughed.

Dinner was delicious, but for me the
dessert was the highlight. I’ve always liked Banana’s Foster, but,
according to the restaurant, they served the original recipe. It
was, down to the very last bite, scrumptious.

He called his mother just as we were
leaving the restaurant, but she told him that David had stopped by
to see her and that tonight might not be a good time to come
over.

He made one more stop at a small
grocery store and purchased a few things such as eggs, bacon,
sliced ham and turkey, bread, cheese and milk. I was trying to be
patient, since he said I would be able to drive the car for a
little while, but I was beginning to wonder when that would happen.
Just as we got near the ramp for I-10, he pulled over and, somewhat
reluctantly, switched places with me.

The car was incredibly responsive. Just
the slightest touch and it was eager to break all known Louisiana
speed laws. He pulled out a small radar detector from the glove box
and plugged it into the power supply. “Just a little. This doesn’t
do anything if a cop is coming up from behind.”

I smiled and carefully maneuvered
around enough vehicles that I was certain I had no officers behind
me. I only wanted a few seconds of unadulterated speed. As soon as
I got a clear stretch in front of me and the radar showed no
problems, I dropped the petal to the floor. I only held it for
about seven fantastic seconds, but I was exceeding one-hundred and
forty so I felt it was time to reign in the fun and go back to
almost normal speed.

I could tell that he was no longer
nervous to be a passenger when I drove. He evidently had come to
accept that I could handle whatever had four tires and a steering
wheel. He let me finish the drive home, which was fun because there
were great curves in a few places and I got to feel the car’s
excellent road-hugging ability. My only mishap was that I over-shot
the driveway to his house. He had become so comfortable that he had
forgotten that I’d only entered that drive once before.
Fortunately, there was no one behind us and I simply backed
up.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Over the next several days, we fell
into a happy routine. It was a morning swim, breakfast on the
patio, out to the shooting range and several nights of dinner at
home. I wasn’t horrible in the kitchen; I just hadn’t done that
much cooking. He, surprisingly, was good in the kitchen, so between
the two of us, we were managing a decent meal each
night.

But it was the lessons on the shooting
range that consumed most of our days. He showed me ways to make my
body less of a target if I was under fire, how to flash sight a
pistol so that I took less time to aim, remain accurate but greatly
increased my speed from holster to firing position. I tried the
double pistol firing and it was, as he told me it would be,
extremely difficult because I didn’t have enough muscle to keep the
guns from wobbling wildly after each shot. I was determined to
practice it, but I knew, should the time come, I’d best stick to
two hands and one gun.

I asked him if we could make
arrangements to have Ryan’s car shipped back to Pensacola, but he
told me to be patient. I didn’t have Ryan’s home address or phone,
but I did have Jewels’ number. He reminded me that the phones of my
friends and pseudo-family might be under surveillance and we didn’t
want to tip anyone off to my location in Louisiana. My phone had
died the morning after I arrived here because I didn’t have the
opportunity to get my phone charger from my bug or the one at Bev
and Matt’s house. I wanted to call my mother, but he said that was
absolutely out of the question since we wanted Robert to at least
believe his plan was working and we would eventually discover what
he had been hoping to accomplish through my demise.

My only link to my mother would be to
pray every night that she had enough trust and faith in me that she
would know, in her heart, I was still alive.

When Friday came around, he had planned
another evening in the French Quarter. He had decided I needed to
try some authentic Creole food. We sat out by the pool discussing
types of foods that we’ve tried, when his phone went off. I hadn’t
realized until that moment that it was the first time I had
actually heard his house phone. An odd look crossed his face and
then he went inside to answer it. I climbed back into the pool. I
no longer had any inhibitions about being in my bikini because,
after that first initial temptation of watching me in a bathing
suit was under control for him, I had no more fear that he would
get too enthused. I was also getting used to seeing him in his
board shorts, showing off that beautiful physique for his only
audience member.

The only thing that was bothering me in
what was otherwise time spent in paradise was that there had been
no more information coming in about who this woman was that had
paid someone to kill me or, for that matter, no more information
about Robert’s motives for wanting me dead as well. I knew he was
staying in contact with Celeste, but when I would ask, he would
tell me that there had been no progress. There were times when I
questioned whether he was being truthful or not. He was becoming
much better at controlling his facial reactions around me. I could
tell it was practiced control because, before, I could discern his
emotions easily. My time was going by too quickly and although I
was in friendly captivity, I knew that status was going to have to
change at some point. Sometime in the next four weeks, he would
have to call his contact and let him know the job had been
completed.

I continued making laps in the pool,
but it seemed he had been gone a long time for a conversation. I
was becoming curious as to whether he was even on the phone at this
point. I toweled off and grabbed my robe, deciding it would be
better to go in and find out what was going on. But, as I opened
the kitchen door, he hung up the phone.

“
Everything okay? Was that
about me?” There were no reasons to hide questions, but I had a
distinct feeling from his expression that there might be a reason
to hide answers.

“
We’ve got a change of plans
for dinner tonight,” he responded tersely. “I’m going out for a
little while. You’ll need to stay inside. I’ll turn on the alarm,
you’ll be safe.”

“
Why can’t I go with you?” I
asked feeling apprehensive over being left in the dark, as well as
left behind.

He didn’t answer. He just turned and
headed for the stairs that led to his room on the upper
floor.

I hadn’t thought it wise to go up there
before, but now I was right behind him. “Is there a reason I can’t
come?” I persisted.

“
I’d just rather you
didn’t,” he answered as he reached the top step and continued
on.

I wasn’t going to give in so easily. “I
could come; you’d just rather I didn’t.”

He turned so sharply that we bumped
into each other just before reaching his bedroom doors. “Are you
coming inside while I dress?” His attitude was getting that sharp
edge to it that told me he was preparing for an
argument.

“
No,” I shot back, giving a
little sharpness of my own. “I just want to be sure…”

He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling,
letting me know he was getting exasperated quickly. “Sure of what,
Leese?”

“
You aren’t going to—this
isn’t something…”

“
Spit it out!” His patience
finally snapped.

My eyes began to well at his harsh
tone, “You aren’t taking your stupid guns, are you?! This isn’t
some kind of fight with whoever is out there, is it?” I was saying
my words too loudly, but my rising emotions were pushing my
volume.

His whole body stopped tensing and he
seemed to relax as he took my shoulders in his hands. “No, no, it’s
nothing like that. I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to tell you that
were having dinner tonight with—with my family.”

There was a moment of stunned silence
as I contemplated every possible connotation of the word family.
“You mean like…”

“
My parents and my brother
and sister.”

“
David is going to be…” Then
there was a moment of deeper understanding. “Your dad is going to
be there?”

“
Yeah, he wants to meet
you.”

I could plainly see this worried him,
as if David wasn’t a big enough worry on his own. I didn’t know
much about his father, but if he harbored a similar attitude toward
me as David did this might be more like a last meal than a simple
dinner.

“
I’ve got to pick up a few
things in town and then I’ll be back.” He was completely gentle
once again.

“
Are they coming here?” I
questioned, the nervous feeling mounted.

“
No, we’re meeting at one of
my dad’s restaurants. I’ve got to get changed.” He pushed open the
double doors revealing a place I had not seen before.

“
You’re dad owns a
restaurant? I followed inside, marveling at the simple but
masculine design. His bed was on a black lacquered platform,
against a floor to ceiling built-in headboard of dark padded silk
squares. The dressers, armoires and nightstands were also a black
lacquer and his bedding was a rich, deep green like his eyes. I sat
gingerly on the bench at the foot of his bed watching him open
drawers and pull out his clothes.

He looked at me, apparently surprised
that I was making myself comfortable in his room, shook his head
and went into his bathroom. I heard his damp swimming shorts hit
the floor. “He owns several, as well as numerous other businesses.
I told you what he was good at, and businesses are better than
banks. I have several myself.”

He returned to his bedroom, now dressed
in his jeans and a button up shirt. He grabbed his shoes and joined
me on the bench.

“
You own a
restaurant?”

“
I own quite a few things
that might surprise you. Although things have been quiet here
recently, I’m usually, well, let’s just say I’m usually much busier
than I’ve been lately.” He grabbed his wallet and keys from the
night stand and then walked out of the room, expecting me to
follow. He was halfway down the stairs as I exited the
room.

“
So what do I do while
you’re gone? Stay inside and watch television?”

He paused and turned, “Be good. I could
unplug the house phones and take them with me, but I’m hoping by
now you realize why you can’t call Jewels, or Bev or especially
your house. I’m doing my best to unravel what’s going
on.”

I nodded. He knew how desperately I
wanted to call my mother. Every day that passed without her having
heard from me, increased her pain, anguish and worry. She probably
was starting to suspect that something horrible had happened to
me.

“
Leese,” he said pulling me
from my troubled thoughts about Mom. “Please tell me you won’t try
to leave. You’re safe here—for now. Promise me you’ll be here when
I get back.”

“
If I left,” I said slowly,
“I’d ruin everything for—for both of us. I’ll be here.”

He placed a warm hand on the back of my
neck and kissed my cheek. It seemed to me, on the rare occasions
now that he did this, each time his lips got closer to my mouth,
closer to what would at some point become our final true
kiss.

The alarm was set and I watched the
silver Corvette vanish down the drive. I rambled around the house,
exploring what I had felt uncomfortable to see before. The house
was large, perhaps five or six thousand square feet. The downstairs
consisted of the guest room which I stayed in, a formal living,
formal dining, family room, kitchen and a media room. Upstairs just
to the right was his bedroom, two additional suites and a large den
also occupied the upper floor.

I hadn’t seen inside the den before and
was surprised that he left it unlocked. The big mahogany desk had a
computer and a few files lying out. I shouldn’t have looked, but I
felt that if he had been concerned about what I would find he would
have put the items away. I sat down in the thickly padded leather
chair and open the first file. It was the dossier on Evan Lewis.
Everything was there; birth certificate, social security card,
driver’s license, school records—and a complete history including a
photo of the real Evan Lewis stapled to his middle school records.
Wow, he was nothing like his imposter. He smiled from under a thick
pile of strawberry blond hair, a splash of freckles across his face
and crooked teeth.

The next file was thin, but
the contents were shocking. It was about me. I looked at my school
picture from earlier last fall. There was information on me as
Annalisa McKinnis. My Pensacola address, phone number, even my
class schedule was there. It was a short summary of my false self.
No wonder he was concerned about who I really was—there just wasn’t
enough here to make a complete life for anyone. There were two
dates hand-written in the folder, one was March
10
^th
,
the day before he started at Pensacola High School and the other
was April 25
^th
. It took me a second, but
then I understood that I was looking at his deadline—a literal
deadline for me.