Flying High (10 page)

His laughter was the last response she would have expected. “If I could, I’d understand why I started it knowing how it would end. Want to head back?”

“Sure. Are you sorry you... That we know each other?”

He swung their joined hands. “No way. I wouldn’t have missed you for the world. This song is still playing.”

“You didn’t tell me about your mission. Were you successful?”

“I was indeed. Thanks for asking.” They rode in silence back to her house in Bethesda. “I won’t invite you to come in,” she said.

He showed his teeth in that wicked grin she found so enticing. “If you’re afraid we’ll heat up the place again, suppose you stand in the foyer while I check the house to make sure all is safe.”

“Tell me something,” she said when he came down the stairs. “Can you go to a private neurologist for treatment of your neck?”

He looked in the distance for a minute. “I have to trust you with this. One word of it to my superiors and I’m finished in the Marine Corps. If I went to a private physician, the report would reach the Commandant’s office before I got home. I know my neck needs treatment, but I’m going to tough it out. I’ve worked hard, endured hell and sacrificed aplenty to get ahead. It’s my goal to reach the top, and I’ll keep on till I have four silver stars on my collar.”

“But it could cost you your health.”

“I know, but the last words I said to my dad were ‘I promise.’ He made it to lieutenant commander in the Navy, as my brother did, and it was his dream to wear the admiral’s gold braid and stars. I always keep my promises, Audrey. If I tell you something, you can depend on it.”

“I wish you’d tell me I’m going to survive this.”

“I’d be happy if I could assure myself of that. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He turned and ran down the steps.

Chapter 5

I
’m giving Audrey mixed signals,
Nelson told himself as
he drove home to Alexandria,
and it isn’t fair. I believe
she’s different, that she’s honorable, but I thought that of Carole,
too.

He parked in front of his house and leaned against the hood of
the car looking up at the sky that seemed to surround him, at the blanket of
stars and the moon hanging among them. Never before had he paid so much
attention to nature and the beauty that met his eyes wherever he looked. He
hadn’t taken time for life’s simplest pleasures, he realized. How often he’d
walked along the Tidal Basin at evening, winter and summer, but until this night
he had never seen in the water his likeness or the reflection of the Jefferson
Memorial. With Audrey, his senses seemed to spring to life.

He fixed his gaze on a sapling swaying in the breeze and
thought of Ricky, a tender shoot that needed care and nurturing if he would
become a man. But what of his own goals? And what about Audrey? Their attraction
to each other had deepened into something more than desire, and common decency
demanded that he not mislead her.

He went inside and up to his room without turning on the
lights. What he needed right then was not artificial illumination, but some
insight into the course his life had begun to take, a course over which he
seemed destined to have no control.

In the office several mornings later while working at his desk,
he answered his intercom and heard Marilyn’s voice. “Checkmate. Got
company?”

He bolted forward. “All clear here.”

“On second thought,” she said, “how about a cup of coffee at
Starbucks? Say, half an hour?”

“Half an hour.”

Now what? If she didn’t want to discuss it over the phone or
the intercom, that meant she’d found something.

She sat at a little bistro table in the corner with her back to
the wall like the sleuth that she was, prepared for any eventuality.

He joined her at the table. “Seems serious. What do you have
for me?”

“It may be serious. I’m not sure. We’ve put that house under
surveillance, and we’re looking hard at four visitors.”

“Who lives there, and who are these visitors?”

“The house is rented to a computer scientist, who lives there
with his wife and daughter, Stacey. What’s peculiar about the visitors is their
timing—during working hours when the man is presumably at work, and the length
of their stay. Fifteen to twenty-five minutes. Hardly time enough for infidelity
on the woman’s part and unreasonable since the man doesn’t work at
home.”

He gave the waitress his order for a cup of cinnamon cappuccino
and mused over what Marilyn had told him. “Perhaps the woman works at home. She
could be a secretary, accountant, editor or a writer.”

Marilyn shook her head. “If so, she doesn’t pay income tax or
social security. She’s not on any local, state or national roster of employees
or professionals. And she doesn’t have a bank account or any kind of investment
portfolio.”

He released a sharp whistle. If the government decided to find
out about you, you needn’t try to hide. “My boy can make other friendships, but
I want to know why, if that family is engaged in crime or espionage, they would
choose to involve my child. Maybe it’s a coincidence.”

She shook her head. “It isn’t. Children make perfect pawns,
Colonel. You know that. Besides, your boy is not the only serviceman’s child
with whom Stacey wants to be friends. So far, she’s had no luck.”

“So what you’re saying is that someone wants me or wants
something that I’m supposed to know.”

“Looks like it.”

“Any orders?”

“Watch your back and—”

He held up his hand to stop her before she said it. “I’ve sworn
to give my life for my country, and I’ll do it, but I won’t risk my child’s
little finger. And that is not negotiable.” He knew that with those words he may
have knocked himself down a few pegs with his superiors, but so be it.

She looked him in the eye. “Then we won’t ask you to do that.
If you wish, we can put him on security watch at that school. Who takes him
there and back home?”

“My housekeeper. But from now on, I’ll do it when I’m
here.”

“Good. You’ll both get security watch. Keep this under
wraps.”

“You bet. By the way, how much damage have I done to
myself?”

For the first time, a smile settled on her face. “None. I have
three children, and I wouldn’t sacrifice any part of them, either. There are
other ways of getting the information we need, Colonel. Have a good day.”

He was relieved but not satisfied. According to his father and
grandfather, chickens had a way of coming home to roost, so he could only hope
that the incident didn’t precipitate a career setback. All the same, his mood
when he arrived home that evening was bright, even jocular.

“Where’s Ricky?” he asked Lena, after greeting her.

“Upstairs, and looks to me like he’s been up there a while.
Maybe I ought to—”

“I’m headed up there. I’ll see what he’s up to.”

When he didn’t see the boy in his room, he had to resist alarm,
as his thoughts went immediately to his conversation with Marilyn, the NSS
officer whose last name was a mystery to him. However, he need not have worried.
When he stepped into his own room, he found Ricky sitting on his desk dialing a
phone number.

After recovering from the surprise, he asked him, “Who’re you
calling?”

“Hi, Unca Nelson. I’m calling Audie, but I can’t talk to her.
Nobody answers.”

He walked over to the desk. “Dial it again.” He watched as the
little fingers punched in numbers. “That’s a three, and you were trying to punch
an eight. Who gave you her number?”

“Miss Lena.”

“I’ll show you.” After a brief period of instruction, Ricky
punched in the number and Nelson watched the child’s eyes grow big and round as
he experienced for the first time that miracle of modern technology.

“Hi, Audie. This is Ricky. Ricky Wainwright, Audie. Can you
come over? Unca Nelson showed me how to push the numbers.” He listened to her
answer, his face blooming with his smile. “You will? Gee. I love you, Audie.
Bye.”

He jumped from the desk and ran to Nelson. “She’s coming to see
me, Unca Nelson. Audie’s coming to see me.”

“Wonderful.” He didn’t ask when she would be there; he had to
dispose of a more pressing matter. He put the boy on his knee and told him,
“Son, Stacey can’t visit you. I don’t know her parents or their visitors, so
it’s best you not make friends with her right now.”

Ricky’s bottom lip dropped in a pout, and his eyes blinked
rapidly. Then he ran into his room and closed the door. Parenting was an endless
job. On his way to reprimand Ricky, the telephone rang, and he rushed back to
answer it.

“Wainwright speaking. Hello.”

“Good evening, Colonel,” the deep, masculine voice began. “I’m
Rufus Meade, syndicated reporter for
The Tribune
and
other papers and media outlets. I’ve agreed to do a piece on Afghanistan, and I
understand that you served there, crashed there and were wounded. I’m not
planning an exposé, but an accurate account of what’s going on there, and I’d
like to speak with you. I’m told you have the facts.”

He did indeed, but how could he prevent the reporter from
observing the problem with his neck and shoulders? It amazed him that his
colleagues at the office hadn’t noticed it.

“I know who you are, and I’ve read many of your reports. If you
want to write about the conflict there and not about me, I’ll speak with you,
but my life is my business.”

He heard a hint of a laugh. “That will be difficult. I can say,
however, that I have no interest in documenting your private life. You can trust
me on that. What do you say?”

“Who else are you interviewing, if you don’t mind my
asking?”

“You’re certainly entitled to know that. I spent an hour with a
lieutenant colonel when I was in Afghanistan a few weeks ago, but I can’t say it
was rewarding.”

His body jumped to alertness. Had Holden told the reporter
about his having overlooked a young marine’s serious infraction of Marine code,
falling asleep while on guard duty?

“What was the officer’s name?” he asked Meade, and held his
breath for the inevitable.

“Holden. He’s a Marine officer. When I called the Pentagon this
afternoon, a lieutenant in the Commandant’s office told me to get in touch with
you and gave me a bit of your service history. It surprised me that Holden
didn’t mention you.”

He allowed himself to breathe. “He’s not a fan of mine.”

He agreed to meet with Rufus Meade, and they set a time for the
first interview. He hung up, looked down and saw Ricky hugging his leg.

“I’m sorry I was bad, Unca Nelson. Stacey doesn’t have to be my
friend. I like another girlfriend at school, too.”

He sat down and urged Ricky to stand between his knees. “I’m
glad you have friends. Aren’t there any boys in your school?”

“They’re yucky. They throw pieces of paper and make noise, and
they’re not nice to the girls.”

He pushed back a laugh. “But you are nice to the girls, I
hope.”

“Oh, yes, sir. All the time, and all the girls like me. One of
them was going to marry me, but I told her I would have to ask you.”

He poked his tongue into his left cheek to stifle a grin. “And
you were right. We have to wait awhile for that. When is Audrey coming to see
you?”

Ricky placed his elbows on Nelson’s thigh, let them take his
weight and looked up at his uncle. “Saturday morning. We’re going to the library
near her house. A lady goes there and tells stories to the children. I love
stories, Unca Nelson.”

He wondered whether security would tail them. Marilyn hadn’t
indicated full security day and night, seven days a week, and he hoped that
wasn’t considered necessary. But inasmuch as it wasn’t a school day, he wouldn’t
take a chance.

“Ask Audrey if she minds my going along.”

“Oh, goody!” Ricky grabbed the phone, and within minutes, the
coming Saturday would differ vastly from what he had planned.

* * *

With twenty minutes free before her next patient’s
appointment, Audrey took out her ledger to check her financial position. She had
promised herself that she would open her own office before the year was over,
and the previous day she’d seen precisely the space and location that met her
needs. She didn’t want to begin her practice heavily in debt, and the equipment
alone carried a staggering price tag. If she sold some stock, she could open her
office in November or December with a manageable debt.
Manageable debt!
She cupped her face with both hands. She was never
free of the dread that hung over her like a dark storm ready to flood the earth.
She wouldn’t know relief until seven years had passed and the statue of
limitation excluded a malpractice suit. All she had done was accede to an
injured basketball player’s pleas that he be allowed back on the court to help
the university’s team win the playoff. He shot the winning basket, collapsed and
had to be taken from the court unable to walk or even to wiggle his right toes.
That mistake haunted her daily, and she knew it was one reason for her
thoroughness and the expertise for which she was becoming known.

She put the ledger away, washed her hands, and checked the
waiting room. “How’s your back today, Mr. Long?”

“Never felt better.”

“Really? Then you don’t need me.”

About forty years old—though he gave his age as
twenty-nine—neatly dressed, and passable-looking, Leroy Hayes thought far more
highly of himself and his looks than he had any right to, at least in her
opinion, and his arrogance irritated her.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said in answer to her remark,
revealing his teeth in a smile that was both suggestive and arrogant. “I figured
now that I’m well, you and me, we could get down to business. I don’t see a
thing wrong with doctor-patient relations, but my sister says it’s not ethical,
so I’m well as of now.”

She would see about that. “You’d better let me check. Can’t be
too careful about these things, and we don’t want problems with your insurance
company.”

His smile faded. “Well, if you think so, but
I’m...uh...well...”

Even if he wasn’t, she would make sure he stayed away from her.
“Go into the first therapy room, remove your shirt and shoes, please, and lie
down.”

After he had waited long enough to be nervous, she joined him
and began the exercises. If he was well, it wouldn’t hurt; if he wasn’t, the
entire clinic would know it.

With her thumbs on either side of his spine and her fingers
digging into his shoulders, she pressed with all the strength she could
muster.

“Ow! What the hell!”

“My! I should have been more gentle, but you said you were
healed so...” Her left shoulder lifted in a shrug. “It isn’t wise to mislead
your doctor. Anyway, I’ve done all I can for you. You’re discharged.”

He turned over and sat up. “I am? Then we can—”

“We can’t do anything, Mr. Hayes. I’m not looking for a man.
I’ve got one. Let yourself out.”

She had primed herself for ten minutes of good catharticury,
but the ring of the telephone put an end to the pleasure she derived from
it.

“Dr. Powers speaking.”

“This is Ricky Wainwright. I want to speak with Audie,
please.”

She greeted him warmly. “Did you dial my number yourself?”

“Uh-huh. Unca Nelson taught me how. He told me to ask you if he
can go with us to the library Saturday.”

“Of course. Tell him we’ll be glad to have him.”

“Okay. I love you, Audie. Bye.”

“Hey, wait a minute. I love you, Ricky. I love you a lot.”

“Okay. Bye.”

She telephoned her sister Winifred to cancel their Saturday
morning shopping trip. One thing was certain: with Ricky along, she and Nelson
would keep their libidos in check. Or would they? She had learned that if he
caught her unawares, she couldn’t be counted on for discreet behavior. Thoughts
of his dreamy brown eyes with those extraordinary lashes, and the way his lips
seemed to smile while he spoke, and of that hard mouth on her sent warm flushes
throughout her body, and she felt her nipples harden.