Celebration (40 page)

The long afternoon stretched ahead of her. What should she do? She supposed she could settle down with a good book or do some needlepoint. Neither thought appealed to her, so she headed upstairs to take a bubble bath. If she was going to the bank, she needed to look her best. Just in case. She wondered if she had anything fetching in her closet besides jeans and sweat suits. She couldn't remember the last time she'd bought anything new. Years probably. She wanted something bright and colorful, something that said, “Here I am.” The flip side of that particular thought was Logan would think she got dressed up for him. He was so cocky, so arrogant, so ... so Logan.

 

 

“Wow!” “ Cala said at four o'clock when Kristine entered the kitchen. ”Do you have a date with Woodie?”

“I wish. I'm going to the bank.”

“Mom, the bank closes at four.”

“The drive-through is open till six.”

“You did your hair, put on makeup, dolled yourself up in a slick-looking linen dress and are wearing high heels and perfume to go to the drive-through teller at the bank!”

“You get money for ice cream, Granny?” Ellie asked.

“You bet,” Kristine said, hugging the little girl.

“You know, I might see . . . Woodie might recognize my car and come out, any number of scenarios could happen.”

“Mom, why don't you just walk into the bank and ask for him? That's what I would do,” Cala said.

“I'm not you. Woodie gave me an ultimatum. I can't seem like . . . this is best.”

“Where's Dad?”

“He went for his treatment. I'm going to meet him for Chinese and a movie.”

“Oh.”

“Oh. That's it, oh.”

“Mom, you're all grown-up. Whatever you do with your life is your business. Next time don't try to snow me by saying you got all duded up to go through the drive-through at the bank. Either tell me an outright lie or don't tell me anything. Come on, girls, let's go help Daddy.”

Kristine would have cried except she knew her mascara would run.

As she backed her car out of the driveway she could see Cala and her little family staring at the car from the barn door. She almost rolled the window down to shout, “I'm telling you the truth, why don't you believe me?”

When she sailed through the drive-through at the bank, she tried to appear nonchalant as she looked around for Woodie's truck. It was nowhere in sight. She accepted her deposit ticket and didn't bother to check it. Instead, she leaned out the window and said, “Has Mr. Dunwoodie left for the day?”

“You just missed him, Ms. Summers. He left about ten minutes ago.”

“Thank you.” So much for getting dressed up and dousing herself with sinful perfume that was now going to be wasted on Logan Kelly.

“So, how's it going, Steve?” Woodie asked as he slid into a booth at the Golden Dragon.

“Busy as hell. I can't wait for tax season to be over. I'm going to sleep for a week.”

“It was nice of you to bring my returns out here. I would have come in to pick them up.”

“No problem. I wanted to get away from the office anyway. You know how wild it gets at this time of year. I thought we could eat, have a few drinks, and, if you didn't mind, I'd bunk with you and head back to town at the crack of dawn.”

“Great idea. I'm loose these days. How about you? Sorry we couldn't get together over the holidays.”

“This is the first I've seen you in, what is it, over four years? Postcards don't quite cut it. Mailed receipts and IRS forms don't cut it either, buddy. Weren't you supposed to get married?”

“Yeah, but it didn't quite work out. Like I said, I'm loose. How is it you're still a bachelor?”

“By choice. Always remember that. I did meet someone while we were on safari in Africa. Man, you missed one hell of a trip. It was like being a kid again. We didn't have to shower, we wore the same clothes, didn't shave. We had this great tour guide. I'm telling you, Woodie, it was the experience of a lifetime. We even managed to get a little intrigue into the end of the trip. We brought the tour guide home with us. We got her a job, an apartment, and she's happy. The intrigue concerns her.”

“Her? Is the her the someone you met? Such good English,” Woodie laughed.

“Yeah. I don't know if anything will come of it or not. At the moment, we're good friends. You need to take things slow at first. I'm not in a rush. I like being a bachelor, I like not having to share. I have a great life.”

“Kids?”

“I don't know. I think fifty is a little late to start having kids. When I'm seventy I might regret it, but not now.”

“How old is the lady in question?” Woodie asked.

“I'm not sure. Probably past the childbearing stage. She just came out of a bad relationship so she's in no hurry to start up something she isn't ready for. Friendship is great. Sex complicates things. How about you?”

“You're right about that, Steve. Her ex showed up out of the blue. We were supposed to get married the first of the year, but she put it on hold because he's dying and . . .”

“Yeah, and what?” Steve asked, biting into a crusty egg roll.

Woodie dunked his egg roll in duck sauce. He watched the sauce drip to his plate before he answered. “She feels she has to be there for him, to take care of him. I guess I'm stupid because I don't get it. He dumped her, swindled her and her kids out of all their money, and now he wants everyone to make nice so he can . . . go in peace. I guess I'm just a cold-hearted bastard. It's not a question of money. Round-the-clock nurses would be no problem. The kicker is, this guy looks as healthy as a horse. I hate to say this aloud for fear God will strike me dead, but the guy . . . I don't know, I think he's lying. It's just a suspicion. I didn't voice my opinions, either. She's done this to me twice before. That's why I took off after I retired. This guy is ruining my life, and hers, too and she doesn't see it. Why is it women are such suckers where men are concerned?”

“You're asking the wrong person, Woodie. I guess that's why I'm still a bachelor. Funny, though, the same thing kind of happened to Danela. The rat took off with all her money, too. D'ya think it's because I deal in numbers all day long and you dealt with money and investments all your life? Are we obsessed with money?”

“No. We respect what money can and cannot do, and we are responsible people. People depend on you the way they depended on me. We are not in the majority, Steve, we're in the minority.”

“Are you just going to sit around and . . . and . . . ?”

“You can say it. Am I going to sit around and wait for him to die? No. I'm doing some consulting work for the bank. Hell, I'm turning work away. I fish once in a while. I take people out to dinner. I spend a lot of time reading and watching television. I've seen the world, so I have no desire now to do any traveling.”

“What happens when the time . . . when he finally buys it? What will you do if she wants you then? Are we talking true love here?”

“I was. I thought she was, too. She said if she didn't take care of him she would regret it all her life. Maybe because I don't have children, don't understand the bond between people who do have them. Like I said, maybe I'm just stupid. I told her it was him or me, and she picked him. I don't want to be second-best. Would you?”

“That's a tough one. No one wants to be second-best. I don't think I'll ever get married. I'll play ball with someone else's kids.”

“Do you smell that?” Woodie asked.

Steve Douglas sniffed. “Yeah. I've bought enough perfume in my time to know good stuff when I smell it. I'm one of those guys who likes to sniff. Heady stuff. So, what are we ordering? Do you want to do the mix and match or one of those flaming platters? It all looks damn good. I suppose we could try a little of everything. Man, I haven't had lichee nuts since the last time I was out here to see you, and that must be over four years. I'm going to get some to go when we leave.”

“Shut up, Steve. It's
her
. Look at her, she's all spruced up, and she's the one with the perfume. I gave her that perfume, and she's with
him!
Son of a bitch! Don't look now. They're two booths ahead of us. Look into the mirror and you can see him.”

“I thought you said he was dying. What the hell is he doing eating in a Chinese restaurant? Now, that's a good-looking woman, Woodie. He looks familiar.”

“I went to school with him, for God's sake. Logan Kelly. Don't you remember my telling you how jealous some of my classmates were when he went to West Point?”

“Did you say Logan Kelly?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. Does he look like his days are numbered to you?”

Steve leaned over the table. “We need to get the fuck out of here right now, Woodie. Do not ask me any questions and do not look at that table again. Can we get out of here without being seen?”

“What are you talking about? We just got here. Okay, okay,” Woodie said, pulling money out of his wallet.

“I'll tell you, but not here. Scratch those drinks and bunking at your house. We're going to my house with one stop on the way. Listen, you drive, Woodie. I'll come back with you and pick up my car tomorrow. I'm going to be making phone calls all the way in. You're sure that's Logan Kelly? I'll kind of inch my way out of here. Don't stop to chitchat, okay.”

Woodie snorted. The last person he wanted to chitchat with was Kristine and Logan Kelly. “This better be good, Steve.”

“This is so damn good you are going to owe me your life. You aren't even going to choke when you see your tax bill
and
my bill. I'll meet you outside.”

“Go already,” Woodie said as he sniffed Kristine's perfume, which wafted toward his table each time she moved. So far she hadn't seen him. He wished he knew what all the cloak-and-dagger stuff was about.

The moment Steve was out the door, Woodie was on his feet and heading for the buffet bar where the metal canopy hid the upper part of his body. He sighed with relief when the warm spring air rushed at him.

“Never mind the damn cell phone. Tell me what's going on.”

“Woodie, you are never in your life going to believe this. C'mon, put the pedal to the metal and I'll fill you in. I'm telling you, you are never going to believe this.”

“Stop saying that and tell me what's going on.”

“Mr. Logan Kelly, aka, Colonel Logan Kelly, aka, Logan Kilpatrick, aka, Justin Eberhart of Eberhart Safaris in Africa is sitting at the table with your ladylove. He is not dying. He's a scam artist. He scammed Danela, that tour guide I told you about. He made off with her five million dollars and a lot of money from some banks. He left her holding the bag. When we got back from the safari, everything was cleaned out. She lived with him for eight years. We didn't know his real name was Kelly; Danela didn't know either. Brian hacked into the military files and that's when we found out. He also, are you ready for this, hacked into his numbered Swiss bank accounts. Man, we could lift that money at the drop of a hat. We've been sort of biding our time trying to get through tax season, then we were going to close in on him. You just handed him to us.”

“Just tell me one thing. Is the guy dying or not?”

“Hell, no, he's not dying. We have his medical records. Chew on all that while I start making my phone calls.”

Woodie listened in awe as Steve made one call after another, his voice going from jubilant to ecstatic to reverent. His first call was to his private secretary. “Marian, I hate to do this to you, but you need to go into the office now and work through the night. File for extensions on all the returns that aren't finished. I won't be in for the rest of the week, maybe next week. Call the clients and apprise them of the situation. Of course it's a family matter. Why else would I be doing this? I'll stay in touch. Of course there's a bonus in it for you.

“I kind of feel like God right now.” Steve chortled.

The next call was to Brian Lucas. “Hey, buddy, close up shop and head for my house. File for extensions. You're going to be busy for the next week. Call the guys to meet at my house. Key's under the flowerpot. Yeah, yeah. I found the son of a bitch! He was in a Chinese restaurant here in Leesburg. You were right, Brian, he headed home. He's pulling another scam. Bring all the disks. See you.”

The third call was to Danela. “It's me, honey. Listen up. We found Logan. He's right here in town. I want you to go over to my house. The guys will probably get there first, but just in case, the key is under the flowerpot. We saw him chowing down at a Chinese restaurant. He's not going anywhere. If you want the first crack at him, he's yours. I think there's going to be a long line ahead of you, though. Everyone I know wants a shot at this guy. Yes, he's with his wife. Excuse me, ex-wife.”