Distant Obsession (6 page)

Maybe she should figure a way to meet her pilot. What did she have to lose?

How about my heart?

It had been too damn long. Would it be so bad just to play the casual game like everyone else, just for once?

~ * ~

The driver pulled off Route 67, onto the gravel sidebar and flipped the cover to his cell phone. “Yeah.”

“Did you find her?”

“Yes. You were right. The girl took me right to her sister.”

“Well?”

“What?”

“Did you find it yet?”

“Hell no. Can’t just ask for it. She’d get suspicious. You need to trust me on…”

“Listen carefully.” The tone of the voice on the other end of the conversation turned curt. “I need that record, now. Don’t care what it takes, just bring it back to me, understand?”

“I’ll do what you ask, but I’ll do it my way. That’s what you’re paying me for. If not, you can get someone else.”

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Once you took this job, your only recourse was to finish it, successfully. Anything else, and I’ll add you to my list. I want it by the end of the week. Comprende?”

There was no response so the caller clarified his expectations. “Remember, you’re not authorized to execute the final action until you have what I want in your hands. Clear?”

“Clear.”

The caller terminated the exchange. The driver pulled back onto Route 67 and offered his one word assessment of the conversation. “Asshole.”

Five

The prestigious colors of the vendor canopies, red, blue, green, and yellow; against the backdrop of autumn foliage lining the sides of Mill Mountain formed a welcoming invitation to all patrons at the annual Fall Wine Festival. The dew soaked, morning air ventured down into the valley at the base of the mountain and speckled the exposed shoulders of Reece’s date with goose bumps.

“Here, take this.” He draped his thin, navy jacket with the CVN 68 emblem embossed along the back and covered her shoulders. Carol took it willingly. “Thanks. Didn’t expect it to be this cold in September.”

He pointed at the white cliffs half way up the ridge. “Smell that?”

She inhaled. “Yes, very nice. What is it?”

“The cool morning air hugs the ground as it moves through the forest toward the valley and picks up the woodland scent of fermented leaves, moist soil, decaying wood, all mixed together.”

She tried to return his coat. “You sure you don’t mind?”

“No. In thirty minutes the sun will crest the top, and we won’t need it.”

The line of waiting customers inched forward until they reached the front. Reece studied the sign above the entryway and extended a twenty-dollar bill to the attendant at the gate. “Two please; one sampler, one without.”

Carol took her engraved goblet. “Aren’t you going to taste the local wines?”

Reece shook the keys in his pocket. “One of us has to drive. Besides, two glasses and all my inhibitions disappear. Don’t want you to take advantage of me, this only being our first date.”

Carol smirked. “Too bad. I was looking forward to busting a move on your tight caboose.”

 “I bet you were,” he jested. “Maybe I’ll just lick the rim of your glass.”

She conjured an awkward smile, half sultress, half gothic mistress. “I’ve had worse done to me on a date.”

Oh, I do like her grit.

Reece nodded at the second booth. “Bluestone Winery. I understand they have a uniquely flavored cabernet. Like to try it?”

“Sure.”

They sidestepped three paces, and Reece held out her token card. “One please.” He lifted Carol’s arm, drew close by her side and steadied her hand with the cup of his palm. The coolness of the blush wine and her soft flesh drew heat from his body. “First you take a sip.”

Carol pressed the rim of the chalice between her lips, sampled the nectar with a pointed, delicate tongue, leaving an imprint of her gloss.

“Now for my toll.” He spun the glass and touched his tongue to the remnant of her lipstick. “Hmmm, sweet.”

“Didn’t taste sweet to me.”

“Really? Let me try something.” He lifted her chin with two fingers and caressed her mouth, just for an instant, but enough to moisten her lips with the tip of his tongue. He pulled back and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I see. It was the nectar left by your kiss.”

“Clever. Very clever. You are a trickster, Mr. Edwards.” She reached up and palmed his left cheek. “And a handsome one at that.”

He issued a Cheshire grin. “Is it working?”

“Ask me again after three more samples… What are you looking at? Hey, Reece. Where’d you go?”

“Oh, sorry. Come here a minute.” He took Carol’s hand and weaved a path through the crowd to the adjacent display.

Carol advanced to his side. “What is it?”

“That one, see it.” Reece maintained his grasp of her paw and directed her attention to the painting hanging from the display above the artist’s table.

“Nice, and very dramatic.”

“No, I mean yes but—look closer.”

“Hey, don’t you have a sailboat?” She drew nearer to the framed picture of a vessel cutting gracefully through the water. “The driver’s almost as cute as…wait a minute.” Carol traced two fingers along the crescent moon outline below the captain’s ear. “Hey, this guy’s got a birth mark like yours.”

“Not like mine; it’s me.”

Carol bent and read the autograph. “This Carmen, is she a friend?”

“Not that I know of. I don’t have my glasses. Is there a last name?”

She returned to the signature at the bottom of the portrait. “No, just Carmen. Appears you have a secret admirer.” Carol took another sip of her wine and again caressed the form of her date’s upper torso rendered in warm pigments. “Can’t say I blame her. Definitely captured your physique. Look at how the sweat glistens along the abs.” She moved the tip of one finger just below the rim of his trunks. “This painter, even though the style is loose, she really manages to capture the detail, doesn’t she?”

Reece ignored Carol’s question and moved his attention across four more pieces draped along the partition, each capturing his exact likeness. “Excuse me ma’am.” An older woman with gray hair crafted into a tight bun tapped the do-not-touch sign beneath the frame. “Fingers leave oil that’s absorbed into the canvas.”

“Oh, sorry. I was just admiring your work. Are you Carmen?”

The woman shook her head. “No, I’m with the promoter. We watch the displays when the crafters need a break.”

“Does she have a card?” Reece inquired.

“Not yet. She’s only started selling at a few local festivals recently. I think she’s hoping to turn her past time indulgence into a career, though.”

He examined the price tag.

Wow. Six hundred is more than a hobby.

“Can you give me a number where I can reach her?”

“Hello,” Carol taunted in a half jesting tone, “remember me over her.”

Reece squeezed her hand and grinned. “I just wanted to ask about this painting, that’s all.” He returned his interest to the gray haired woman.

“I’m sorry, I’m not allowed to give out personal information, and she doesn’t have a business phone. Hold on.” The woman extracted a pen and a slip of paper from her pocket and scribbled something. “Here.”

“What’s this?”

“I know Carmen has a booth at the Apple Festival next Saturday in Fayeville. You could catch her there.”

“Thanks.” Reece took the note and regained his focus on the painting.

“If you like it so much, I’m sure they’ll reserve it for you.”

“No, appreciate the thought, but I’m not looking to buy right now.” He turned to Carol downing her last sip of wine. “Ready for another glass?”

“Sure.”

They advanced from beneath the canopy, back into the crowd, while Reece gathered one last glance of the partially clad resemblance of himself on his favorite past time, the
Jenny May
.

Carol detached from his arm. “I’ll be right back,” and scurried into position next to a guy in a Hawaiian floral shirt. The distance was too great to hear the verbal exchange, but the sentiment of her gestures, the hand against his back, the stroking of his arm left no doubt; he was an ex beau or current whatabee.

Too bad.

Better to know where a person stands now, before things go too far. Reece never wanted to be ranked below top billing in anyone’s life again.

Why is it always so hard to find someone who…

He’d hoped for more, something beyond the casual, yet he refused to play second best. Those days with his ex-wife, his brother, and even his parents had left him yearning for a different existence. Reece would never tolerate any abusive treatment, like before.

Six

The glassy smooth cover of the lake this early in the morning reflected more than colors. Every tree edging the banks, every flower, rock, bird was shown in full detail. Not one ripple marred the perfect mirror images that graced the surface. Lilah inhaled the familiar scents; fish oil from a gathering of stripers feeding on a school of shad, the comforting aroma from the cedar tree beside the cabin, and the unmistakable smell of day-old cut grass still glistening from the few remaining drops of this morning’s dew.

 
So natural, so fresh, so different from the city.

She stood on the worn dock, glad the weathered wood had held up so long. Her father had built the slab fifteen years ago before he’d divorced her mother, and while it needed work, it still held Lilah’s weight. A light movement to the left caught her eye. The bow of a boat came into view

The
Jenny May
.

She clambered off the decking and hurried up the stone enhanced trail to the house, catching a pebble in her shoe on route. Ignoring the slight discomfort, she rushed into her studio, wiggled into place behind the camera, sighted her subject, and snapped three shots. After the initial adrenaline wore off and calmness took its place, she studied the man inside the small sailing vessel.

Shirtless, the sculpted planes of his glistening pecs tempted more than her artist’s eye. When had the man ceased to be just a subject? When had he started emerging in Lilah’s dreams and messing with her libido? A dampness formed between her breasts and a bead of perspiration trickled down her belly. Her gaze fixed on his fluid movements, the synchronized symphony of man and boat. They glided effortlessly along the smooth water. It took skill to sail with little to no wind.

Still a stranger, yet he managed to capture more than a passing interest. The thought didn’t settle well. On the other hand, a harmless infatuation with no strings attached might be her only connection to a real relationship, for now. Until her husband’s killer was found and she could put that part of her life behind her, Lilah had no business building a rapport with another man.

“Caught you.”

Lilah jumped back from the tripod, hand clasped against her chest. “Ash, don’t sneak up like that.”