No Perfect Secret (35 page)

“What? I’m sorry. My mind was a thousand miles away.”

“The boat you wanted to go on tomorrow is booked. Richard and Cynthia asked if we want to join them on an excursion to an eco-park.”

“Or—we could go to Chichen Itza,” put in Cynthia. “We could climb the Mayan pyramids.”

“No,
we are not doing that,” said Caburn. “That Mayan stuff gives me the willies.”

“Yeah,” agreed Richard. “All those blood sacrifices. Man, I get enough of that in my job.”

“I’m happy with anything that includes water and sun.”

“So were the Mayans,” said Cynthia, sotto voce.

Frank and Richard argued over the check. But something passed between them and Richard gracefully bowed out.

The remainder of the evening was all loud music, underdressed showgirls, an Elvis impersonator that had them gaping, and hip-swaying dance music they couldn’t figure out. “I’m just too friggin’ old for this anymore,” complained Richard as they taxied back to the resort.

Before each couple entered their respective suites, the men shook hands; Anna and Cynthia bussed one another on cheeks.

“You were a little off tonight, Anna. Is everything okay with you?”

“Oh, Gosh. Did I ruin your evening?”

“Silly girl, of course not. It’s just I have the feeling you’re not all that enthusiastic about an excursion tomorrow.”

“Could I be truthful without hurting your feelings?”

“Absolutely!”

“I really, really, just want to laze around the pool, soak up the sun...and drift. Probably that doesn’t make any sense. But, I think that’s what I need. Still, I want Frank to have a good time.”

“Honey, I’m good with that. Tell you what. I’ll manufacture a tormenting case of PMS, the guys can go parasailing or play a round of golf, sleep in or hang out. Richard and Frank have about a thousand topics to cover before they get bored with one another. Oh. Give Frank an extra hug for treating us tonight. That was so unexpected
.”

“I will. He is generous. It makes him feel good.”

“Well, Merry tropical Christmas—creatures are stirring at night you know, geckos, scorpions, lizards...”

Caburn stepped in and ushered Anna into their suite. “Tired,” he asked.

“Just a bit,” she answered before going into the bathroom to change into pajamas and perform the usual bedtime ablutions—teeth brushing, makeup removal, face and hand washing. “All yours,” she said, as she hung up her clothes.

He was lying on his bed, pillows behind his shoulder, his shoes kicked aside. “Anna. Come over here.”

Anna lay down beside him.

“What’s happening with you?”

“I don’t know. A bad feeling just came over me.”

He tucked her inside his arm and pulled her close. “Tell me about the bad feeling.”

“One of the feelings is that I just can’t seem to get enough of you.”

“Oh, babe.”

“It’s like I was starved for affection or something. I planned the whole seduction thing and now I don’t know where to take it.”

“That’s it?”

“Most of it.”

“So
—you were a good girl before you met me and now you’re a bad girl?”

“No, I don’t think I’m bad. It’s just I didn’t find out enough about you before seducing you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Have you ever been in a serious relationship?”

He thought about saying: You mean before now? But thought he better not until he knew where she was going with this. “Not really.”

“Why not?”

“It just didn’t happen.”

“But
—you’ve had a lot a women.”

“Anna. I’ll be thirty-eight on February 27th. I haven’t been celibate, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“So, you sleep around.”

“I sleep in a bed.”

“I’m wondering how many beds?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Too many to count?”

He turned her chin up so that he could look her right in the eye. “Never too many to count.”

“How many women do you think are going to respond to Kevin’s obituary?”

So that’s it
, Caburn thought. “That’s all on Nesmith, Anna—not you. It’s all about him being a con artist—he got off on it.”

Her sigh was long and forlorn
, “I wish there was a way to divorce a dead man. I want my maiden name back.”

“Put that at the top of your To Do list. Ten minutes in family court and you got it. What is it, anyway?”

“Anna Elena Price.”

“Well, Anna Elena Price, we’ll make that happen as soon as we get back to D.C.”

“Even with the holidays?”

“Are you willing to fly home early?”

“Do you mean it? I’ve been thinking about it. If I could begin the new year with my own name, it would feel as if I were really getting my life back.”

“Of course I mean it.”

“We can just hang with Richard and Cynthia around the pool tomorrow—pack up tomorrow night, and still go home with great tans.” She snuggled deeper into his arm. “May I just go to sleep right here?”

“Sure. Let me take my clothes off first.”

“Then we might not get to sleep.”

“Sleep is overrated.”

“Are you the same man who sleeps leaning against posts in airports?”

“Morning, Helen.”

“
Hells bells! What’re you doing here, Frank?”

“I work here
—unless I got fired. Did I get fired?” He put the tote from the duty-free shop on his desk, then shrugged out of his leather coat and draped it over the back of his desk chair.

“No, you didn’t get fired. But that phone call you made Christmas Eve put Albert in a cranky mood. Why are you back early? Something go wrong with Anna?”

“Nope. She wants to change her name back to her maiden name. New Year’s resolution kind of thing. Everything else in this case is out of her control, except that. You know everybody in D.C. Can you round up a judge to hear her petition? In chambers would be good.”

“You mean to tell me you came back from a splendid, all expenses-paid vacation in Mexico just so Anna can petition a name change?”

“It’s important to her—so yes.”

“It has to be done this week? Before New Year’s? Are you nuts?”

“Man! It’s great to be back. I can’t believe how much I missed being called names.” He unloaded a few items from the tote and lined up the items on her desk. “Cuban cigars, Miss Dior, Tequila—with a worm in it.”

“Cuban cigars are illegal.”

“Actually, that’s not true unless you buy them for resale. These are not for resale. These were purchased in the duty-free shop and are perfectly legal.”

Helen gave a thoughtful nod. “Judge Tinsley smokes cigars.” The Miss Dior perfume disappeared into Helen’s purse under her desk.

“That Miss Dior is a bribe, Helen. You have to earn it.”

“I’ll make the call. Who’s doing the petition?”

“Anna. She pulled a form from a legal site on the web. What happened with Nesmith’s mother? Please tell me she’s not loose on the world.”

“She isn’t but that isn’t a sure thing. Albert talked to
Dr Neal. She told him that Clara will need a restrictive environment for an unspecified length of time. She’s keeping Clara under light sedation, because she’s still spewing vitriol towards Anna. However, there’s a little Guatemalan aide that Clara has taken a liking to, so Dr Neal has arranged for the aide to spend time with Clara, and the aid will accompany Clara to Nesmith’s funeral. There’s still no court order keeping Clara in the psych ward, so if she decides to check herself out, it’s a done deal. That idea you had about getting Homeland Security involved didn’t fly.

“What else? Oh, here.” She took a key ring from her desk drawer and handed
it to Caburn. “Nesmith’s keys. Security called Albert and told him Nesmith’s car has to be moved out of the garage. It’s a security issue, and we don’t need it for anything. Albert wants you to drive it over to Anna’s. It belongs to her now.”

“They weren’t legally married.”

“For goodness sake’s, Frank. The general public doesn’t know that. It’s an asset—she can drive it or sell it, or send it off to car heaven. One other thing—Mr Charles has arranged for Nesmith’s return on January 5th—a commercial flight. The funeral home will have a hearse waiting. Mr Abernathy set up the funeral for the following Wednesday in Ellicott City. Mr Abernathy said he would send a car and a driver for Clara. The elephant in the room is that it’s up to one of us to make certain she gets back to the hospital. Albert and I drew straws to see who that would be. You got the short straw.”

“No and no!”

“You don’t have to ride in the same car, Frank. You can caravan. Think of it this way. Once Nesmith is in the ground, it’s a wrap. We can close the file.”

“That’s going to ruin my whole day.”

“You are so spoiled. Think of what your life would be like if you got moved upstairs to Protocol and had to plan every detail for attending State funerals worldwide.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“Actually, there is some good news. Do you recall those insurance forms Kevin filled out to change his beneficiary from Anna to his little boy?”

“I do not want to be the messenger on that.”

“Kevin didn’t sign them on the back. The insurance clerk in Personnel called him, and he told them was on his way to the airport, that he’d sign them when he returned stateside. Which he never did. So Anna gets his death benefit because a dead man can’t sign squat. I think I can safely say but for the fickle finger of fate...”

“
—Nesmith’s and Anna’s paths might never have crossed,” said Caburn. He moved into the closet, and started a pot of coffee. Helen followed behind him.

“Don’t make a lot
of noise.”

“What? Is Albert asleep at his desk?”

Helen opened the cabinet door beneath the counter. “Take a peek. That damned tom had a litter of kittens. Aren’t they cute?”

“No, they look like blind rats.”

“We can’t leave them here over the New Year weekend. After we go to lunch at PS7, we can stop by Pet Smart and get a carrier.”

Caburn frowned. “Did I invite you to lunch?”

“No, but if you want to know what the obit pulled in—you will.”

“Helen, why do you take so much pleasure in hanging me out to dry?”

“You’re just so easy to annoy, Frank. On top of that you’re gorgeous when you’re pissed. By the way—you look like a
Play Girl
hunk with that tan.”

Caburn rolled his eyes heavenward, and took his coffee to his desk. He called Anna. “Hey, it’s me. Would you like to have lunch at PS7 with me and Helen?” He looked over at Helen. “Yep. She’s arranging for you to see a judge in his chambers. Twelve-thirty is good. Yep. Yep. See you then.” He gave Helen a wicked-sweet smile. “There now.” He grabbed the bottle of Tequila off her desk. “While you’re working the phones, I’ll just run this up to
Mr Charles.”

“Ask him if he wants a kitten,” she called to his retreating back.

~~~~

Anna met them at the entrance to the restaurant. The sun was shining, which was a blessing, but the air was cold and damp. She was wearing tan slacks tucked into Uggs, and an animal print tunic beneath a hip-length brown coat. Her hair was tied at the nape of her neck, the better to show off the
delicate gold earrings she’d bought in Cancun. Caburn eyed her appreciatively. She acknowledged his approval with a slight smile.

Helen observed their subdued greetings
—no kiss on the cheeks, no touching, no eye works on public display—which was far more telling than either of them probably guessed.

“How was your Christmas, Helen?” Anna asked after they were seated and served menus.

“Very nice. I spent it with Louise and Albert. By the way, their daughter, Rene, looked at your album. She thinks most of the photos can be saved. Especially the black and whites—but probably not any of the descriptions. A lot of that was pen and ink. I have Rene’s card right here,” she said, passing it to Anna. “She wanted me to remind you these kinds of restorations take time.”

“She can take all the time she needs, or the album needs. I know people lose everything in earthquakes, fires and floods, so I don’t want to sound like a crybaby
—but I’m really attached to that album.”

The server came and they ordered. “Are we sharing a bottle of wine?” Helen asked hopefully.

“I’m having iced tea,” Anna said. “I’ve had my fill of alcohol for months to come. If you’re a wine lover, that resort Mr Charles sent us to is fabulous. Champagne bars at breakfast—not to mention wine and booze bars inside the pools.”

“A glass of the house red, then,” Helen told the server before turning back to Anna. “So, the trip did its magic for you?”