Public Secrets (Artificial Intelligence Book 1) (3 page)

Carla laughed and shook his hand. “Likewise.”

He was reluctant to release it. Was he letting the perfect woman walk out of his life just because past experiences had made him jaded and paranoid? “You know... I can’t very well call you to see how the twenty-three-foot waterfall goes unless you tell me your name.”

She shook her head. “You can’t call me anyway. There are no phones on the Kaituna River.”

“You’re staying somewhere.”

“Yes...”

“And that would be?” he prodded. He could see that she was nervous about speaking it aloud. Finally, she put her hand on his shoulder and pulled him closer so she could whisper in his ear.

“I’ll be at the YHA in Lake Taupo under the name of Carla Long.”

He nodded, wondering what the YHA was.

“You’ll probably have to leave a number with the office and I’ll call you from the pay phone.”

He looked confused by her instructions, so she explained further. “The YHA is a youth hostel. There are no phones in the rooms. Only a phone in the office and a pay phone in the hall.”

“Don’t you have a phone?” he challenged.

“Yes, but it would cost me a fortune to use it. The local phone company would route the call back to the U.S., resulting in international, long-distance fees.”

“Really?” Chad had no idea they did that.

“I think it depends on your service and the agreement they have with a New Zealand carrier. However, mine is a long-distance disaster. So if you don’t know your carrier’s deal with New Zealand, I recommend you use the local phones when you’re calling locally.”

“How far away from civilization is this place you’re going to?” he teased.

“From Auckland, probably five or six hours, depending on how fast you drive.”

The plane had come to a halt and passengers were gathering their baggage. Although the attendant offered them both the opportunity to depart early, each chose to wait. Carla wanted to join the large group of college students in coach. Chad had to wait for his assistant Davis, who was buried somewhere in the back of the plane.

The choir students were near the front of the coach section. They were singing a choral number as they filed out of the plane. Carla slipped into the line and joined their song. Chad was amazed by the loveliness of her voice as she smiled and waved goodbye. He gave her a lopsided grin in return. At least he now knew her profession. With a voice like that, she had to be a singer, but for the life of him he couldn’t place her.

He had no doubt she would escape the reporters outside. She looked as young and silly as any of the students. Could she really be two years his senior? He’d met many women who would lie about their age, but never had they claimed to be older, except for those young enough to be jailbait.

When Davis finally appeared in the long line, the man looked as if he’d been tortured.

“How was your flight, sir?” Davis asked.

“Better than yours, I think,” Chad replied with a sympathetic smile.

“Then you weren’t bothered?”

“No. Not at all.” Chad smiled as the image of Carla came back to his mind.

“When I saw it was a young woman, I figured she would drive you crazy.”

“No. I don’t even think she knew who I was.”

Davis scoffed. “That’s just a scam. They all know who you are.”

“You know, Davis, there are people who don’t watch football.”

He slipped in front of the man. The moment they cleared the gate, a crowd of reporters swarmed around him, yelling questions.

Yes, he truly envied Carla—whoever she was.

The man stood with the reporters, waiting for her. They had assured him she was on the plane. He had studied the picture from her latest book’s dust-jacket, so he felt confident he could find her. He had an assistant watching the car rental counter where she held a reservation. He could have waited for her there, but he was always careful, always covering the angles. The mass of reporters made him nearly invisible.

He prided himself on his precise planning. It was why he could charge so much. He had a perfect record of eliminations and never once had the police called him in for questioning. He would have been concerned when she hadn’t left with the first-class passengers, but then neither had the other celebrity, Chad Tyler. They must have decided to wait until the plane had cleared out.

He grew a bit restless as the gate area filled with the annoying singing choir students, but soon enough they had cleared the area and made their noisome way to customs. He surged with the reporters as Chad Tyler entered, but didn’t follow the mob when they left the gate. Instead, he sat and waited for the plane’s final passenger. It wasn’t until the flight attendants closed the gate that he realized he had somehow let her escape. He called his backup guy watching the rental car line. She hadn’t claimed her car yet. He still had time to find her.

With his fake New Zealand passport, he breezed through customs and joined the even larger group of reporters waiting outside. Again, he studied the people as they slowly made their way through. If only he had the list of people entering the country, but that would take days to obtain.

He had to suffer through the singing choir group again, wishing that someone would pay him to eliminate the whole lot of the annoying little cretins.

The jarring ring of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts. There was a single woman, blonde, in her early forties, standing in the car rental line. The man shook his head in disgust. He didn’t know how he had missed her, but fortunately, his careful planning had compensated for the slip.

She was still in line when he arrived. He now understood why he hadn’t recognized her. The dust jacket picture was obviously a glamor shot from many years prior. Yet the faint hint of past beauty still resided beneath the double chins and loose skin. As she approached the counter, his assistant, dressed as a janitor, moved in closer to verify they had the right woman. He watched as the man looked at his watch, picked up his broom and left. He smiled. That was the signal he wanted.

By the time Chad arrived at the Auckland Hilton he was exhausted, and Davis was in worse condition. His ill-tempered assistant reamed a porter for bumping the luggage against the frame of the elevator door.

“For God’s sake, your luggage has been through an airport. This fellow can’t do it any more harm.”

Davis knew better than to argue, but Chad noticed he wrote the boy’s name down on a piece of paper. No doubt he would call and complain to the manager. Chad looked at the porter. The young fellow’s eyes glowed with admiration.

When they entered their suite, Chad gave the boy a tip, certain Davis would not.

Once the boy left, his assistant spoke. “They don’t tip here. It’s an insult to do so.”

“The boy didn’t seem insulted. Which reminds me, please do not call the manager and complain about the mishandling of your luggage.”

“He should have been more careful.”

“I don’t care. You are my employee and what you do reflects on me. They will think you’re calling in my name, and I don’t want a reputation as a prima donna who complains all the time.”

“Primo uomo,” Davis corrected him and rolled his eyes as if everyone but Chad knew the name for a male prima donna. “I will make it clear I am complaining on my own behalf.”

“You aren’t listening. I don’t want you calling at all. If you’re going to be my assistant, you have to develop a nicer front towards people. And if you can’t do that, then I can’t afford to have you on staff.”

“You’re firing me?” Davis exclaimed.

Chad sighed and collapsed on his bed. “No. I’m not firing you. I’m telling you to lighten up. You take everything so seriously.”

“Fine, then. Do you want to go over tomorrow’s schedule?”

“No. I want to take a hot shower and relax.”

“What time do you want to be woken?”

“When do we need to leave here?”

“Eight-thirty.”

“Then wake me up at eight.”

After his shower, he lay on the bed and tried to sleep, but Carla’s face kept him awake. Who was she? How could she be so famous and he not know her? And how could she be so isolated from the world not to know him? He ran through all the famous singers. He couldn’t imagine any of them looking as lovely as Carla without their makeup.

The students were more than willing to sneak Carla onto their bus. It was an excellent trick on the chaperones to add another choir member.

Carla was happy to join them for the bus ride. Since their destination was close to Lake Taupo, it saved her hiring a rental at the airport. She could rent a car in Whakapapa and arrive at her YHA within an hour. She smiled at her cleverness. None of the press would be able to follow this trail.

One of the chaperones stared at her, but as soon as the girls insisted she join them in their seat, he relaxed. There were over a hundred students. Surely he didn’t know them all.

Her new best bud, Claire, leaned closer and whispered, “If anyone asks, you’re a substitute for Janie Carrington. She got laryngitis this week and couldn’t come.”

“Thanks,” Carla replied, appreciating the girl’s help. Claire had convinced the others to help sneak Carla onto the bus.

The singing group traveled in three buses, each filled with melodies, as they made their way through the cities and out into the farmland of New Zealand. Carla was singing harmony to Claire when a hand rested firmly on her shoulder. Both stopped singing as she looked up into the stern face of the chaperone who had been staring at her before.

“You have a lovely voice,” he said.

“Thank you,” she replied, wondering if this had been a good idea after all. If they dumped her and her luggage out in the middle of nowhere, it would be a long walk to anywhere.

“I don’t recall hearing it before. I’m sometimes a bit slow on a name, but never a voice.”

“I’m substituting for Janie Carrington.”

He considered this for a moment. “Alto—laryngitis. And what is your name?”

“Carla Carrington.” Janie just got a sister, whether she wanted one or not.

“I don’t recall approving a substitute, and you didn’t attend any rehearsals.”

“She sounds really good,” Claire said with a plea in her voice.

“I agree she has a lovely voice. But this is a competition. It’s very important everyone knows their part.”

“She knows her part.”

He sat down in the seat next to theirs. “Let’s hear it.”

Carla almost choked. “You want me to sing?”

“Yes. Both songs from beginning to end.”

“By myself?” Carla asked in a panic. She had no clue what the two songs were.

“Is there a problem with that?”

“I can’t sing by myself. I get too nervous.” She ducked her head in what she hoped was the appearance of acute shyness.

“Very well,” he said, looking at the students around him. “We’ll make a small choir.” He pointed at various students. “On my count, we’ll start with Bach Choral 46. One-and-a-two and...”

Listening very carefully to Claire, she followed along with only one small error. The second song was less familiar to her, but again, by pacing slightly behind Claire, she was able to get through tolerably well.

When they finished, the director didn’t speak for several moments as he stared at his hands. Finally, he sighed. “I don’t know. You’re very tentative, which is a shame because you do have a lovely voice. There are only two days until the competition. I’m not sure you’ll be ready.”

She stared at her hands and nodded. All she wanted was to get to the town and not be tossed out on the road. She wasn’t really concerned about the concert.

Once he left, the girls burst into nervous giggles. “God, I thought I would die. I can’t believe that just happened. How did you know what to sing?” Claire asked.

“I didn’t. I was following your lead. Didn’t you notice I was lagging? The director certainly did.”

Claire dug through her backpack. “Here’s the music. You’d better study it.”

“Why? I’m not actually going to sing in the competition. I’ll get a car and disappear when we get to Whakapapa.”

Claire’s eyes grew round with fear. “You can’t leave. If you do, Dr. Wilson will think you’re missing and call in the police. Then they’ll find out what we’ve done, and he’ll kick us all out of choir. The man has no sense of humor!”

“But I can’t stay.”

“You have to,” Claire said, with Betsy and Jodie nodding in agreement.

Carla took the proffered music. She really didn’t want to get the girls in trouble. Tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep, she would figure a way out of this.

For the next two hours, she set the words and notes to memory. When the bus arrived in Whakapapa they were herded like sheep directly from the bus into their hotel rooms by sharp-eyed chaperones. She shared a bed with Claire since she doubted they still had one assigned for her ersatz sister Janie Carrington.

Claire stayed up half the night telling her all about her troubles with her parents and her disappointment with a boy named Scott. Listening to the girl’s romantic chatter brought Chad Tyler to Carla’s mind.

“Do you know who Chad Tyler is?”

“Of course! He’s the quarterback for the Cowboys and sooooooo cute. He was on our plane—didn’t you see him? You were standing right by him!”

“I saw him. I just didn’t know who he was.”

“He’s the best quarterback in the whole world. And he’s single.”

“He’s gay,” murmured Betsy from her bed.

“He is not!” cried Claire.

“Is too. My brother told me,” Betsy replied.

“Your brother is a dickhead.”

“Claire!” Carla scolded.

“That’s all right. My brother is a dickhead,” Betsy admitted. “But there is a rumor Chad’s gay.”

“He dates all the time.”

“Because he’s gay and he wants to keep it a secret.”

Claire sighed. “Good night, Betsy.” Then she mouthed to Carla, “He’s not gay.”

Remembering how he’d looked at her and touched her, Carla agreed. She closed her eyes. Odd that he turned out to be a quarterback for the Cowboys. Her latest book, the one she couldn’t finish, was about a quarterback named Jeremiah Taylor who played for the Texas Cowboys.