The Escape Artist (38 page)

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Authors: Diane Chamberlain

BOOK: The Escape Artist
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Adam walked over to the cupboard to get a rag. On the way back to his canvas, he stopped behind her, putting his arms around her waist.

“I think you have to stay here tonight,” he said. “I refuse to drive you home.”

She leaned back against him. She had not slept with him since her return to Annapolis. She’d been holding tight to her memory of Saturday night with Linc.

“Maybe,” she said, remembering that Linc had held her this way at the zoo in Philadelphia. She brushed the thought quickly from her mind.

“I love the idea of waking up with you, now that you’re dreaming,” Adam nuzzled her ear. “Both our heads will be packed with dreams, and we’ll grab our sketchbooks in the morning and fill page after page after page.”

“All right,” she said with a smile. “But can you take me home early in the morning? Noel gave me another chunk of his novel this afternoon.” She suddenly remembered the book Noel had asked her to pick up. “Is Jessie coming over tonight?” she asked. “Noel wanted me to get a book he left at her house.” She realized she had not seen Jessie all week.

Adam let go of her with a sigh and walked back to his own canvas. “I doubt it,” he said. “She’s been under the weather. I took her some of the minestrone. I don’t think she’s been out in days. Just hangs around her house, watching her kittens grow.”

“Does she have a cold or something?”

“No. I think she’s just depressed.”

Kim put her brush in the jar of water in the sink. “I’m going over to say hi to her and pick up Noel’s book.” She stopped at the top of the stairs and looked at Adam. “I worry that she’s mad at me because you and I are…together.”

“She doesn’t blame you.” Adam didn’t turn around from his canvas. “She blames me.”

Kim started down the stairs. “Will you listen for Cody while I’m gone?” she called behind her.

“I’ll listen for Cody and warm up the bed.”

THERE WERE LIGHTS BURNING
in the house next door, but Kim still had to knock several times before Jessie answered the door.

“Hi.” Jessie smiled at her, but her face was gray. She was wearing a pale blue chenille robe and her feet were bare.

“Hi, Jess,” Kim said. “Can I come in for a minute?”

“Sure.” Jessie let her in, and Kim walked into the living room. There was an almost imperceptible aroma of cat box in the air, but given the fact that Jessie owned a full grown cat and five kittens, it did not seem too bad.

“How are the kittens doing?”

“Good.” Jessie sat on the arm of her sofa. “And how’s my brother doing?”

It felt like a trick question. “He’s fine,” she said, although Adam seemed far better than fine. She didn’t want to rub Jessie’s nose in the fact that her brother was doing better than she was.

She noticed a box of pictures on the coffee table in front of the sofa. A few of the photographs were spread haphazardly on the table top, and Kim could see that one of them was a five-by-seven of Molly and Liam. She wouldn’t be surprised if all of the pictures in the box were of the children, and she wondered if Jessie had been tormenting herself with them all week. She pulled her gaze back to Jessie’s face.

“Noel asked me to pick up a book he left over here. Is that okay with you?”

Jessie pointed toward the floor to ceiling bookshelf next to the fireplace. “His are on the third and fourth shelves down.”

Kim walked over to the shelves and, after a moment’s search, found the book on the Smithsonian that Noel had requested. She pulled it from the shelf, then looked at Jessie, still gray-faced and perched on the arm of the couch.

“I haven’t seen you in days,” Kim said.

Jessie shrugged. “I have major PMS,” she said. “Not fit to be around.”

“Are you angry with me?”

Jessie looked surprised. “Why would I be?”

“Because of Adam. You thought he should still be grieving, and instead he—”

“No,” Jessie interrupted her. “I’m not mad. Just grumpy as hell.”

“Well, I hope you feel better soon.” Kim felt like hugging her, but something held her back. She hated leaving Jessie alone with that box of pictures. “Why don’t you come over for awhile? We could watch a movie or—”

“No, thanks, Kim. My bed is calling.”

Kim was reluctant to let her off that easily, but she didn’t know what else she could say.

“Well, if you change your mind, come on over,” she said.

She checked on Cody once she was back in Adam’s house, then climbed into his bed, with its dark sheets and light feather comforter. Adam was in the bathroom, and she could hear him singing, although she couldn’t make out the tune. She tucked her sketchbook beneath the bed, lay down, and closed her eyes.

Like magic, an idea came to her for the painting she was working on. She sat up, retrieved the sketchbook, and grabbed her pencil from the top of the night table.

She’d barely gotten a few lines on the paper before the point of her pencil snapped off.

Optimistically, she pulled open the night table drawer in search of another pencil, but the drawer was completely empty. Leaning across the bed, she opened the drawer to Adam’s night table, then drew back with a yelp. Poking out from beneath a few sheets of paper and a couple of receipts was the unmistakable steely gray nose of a gun. Kim stared at it, instantly transported back to her parents’ bedroom and her father’s night table.

She closed the drawer gingerly with her fingertips as Adam came into the room. He leaned over to kiss her, then stood back with a frown. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I opened your night table drawer to look for a pencil and saw a gun,” she said.

He looked briefly surprised. “Oh, jeez, I forgot it was there,” he said. “Let me get rid of it right now.”

He opened the drawer and lifted out the gun, handling it with ease. Kim cowered in the bed as he carried it to the closet. She watched him slip it onto the end of one of the overhead shelves.

“There,” he said. “Now it’s out of our way. I’m sorry.”

She was still shaken. She wished the gun were out of the house entirely. Better yet, she wished Adam didn’t own it.

“Is it loaded?” she asked.

“No. At least, not anymore.”

She shuddered. “I hate guns. Why do you have it?”

He let out a long sigh. “Do I have to say?”

“If you want me to sleep easy tonight, yes.”

He lay down and took her with him, his arm around her shoulders. “I bought it shortly after the accident, because, frankly…I was considering killing myself.”

She put her arm across his chest. “Oh,” she said. “I’m very glad you didn’t.”

“Yes, so am 1.1 didn’t do it because of Jessie. That was the only reason. Jessie was so despondent. I knew I couldn’t do that to her. She knows I own the gun, but she doesn’t know I’d ever considered using it on myself, and I’d appreciate it if you never told her.”

“I won t.”

“So now we know each other’s secrets, huh?” he said.

“Mine’s a little heavier than yours.”

“Well.” He raised himself up on his elbow and ran his hand gently over her cheek. “Your secret is safe with me.”

THEY SPENT THE WEEKEND
together, dragging Jessie out for dinner on Saturday night and taking Cody to the park and for a couple of long walks, but most of their time was spent immersed in their painting. So much so that the brakes on her car did not get repaired. Adam promised to work on them first thing Monday morning, and Kim went home late Sunday afternoon, looking forward to spending the evening with Linc—or at least, with Linc’s voice. Five minutes into his show, though, someone knocked on her door.

She jumped out of bed and ran to the window. No police car. She walked quietly to the door.

“Who’s there?” she asked.

“It’s me.” It was Adam’s voice, and she pulled the door open to find him standing on the landing, a toolbox in one hand, a huge, boxy flashlight in the other.

“Oh, good,” he said, “I was hoping to catch you before you started your pampering session.”

Linc’s voice was no more than a murmur in the air behind her. She couldn’t make out a word he was saying.

“Did I wake you up?” Adam looked at her curiously.

“Oh, no. Sorry. Come in.” She let him in, knowing there was no alternative short of rudeness.

“I should have called first, but I thought I’d take a chance. Cherise wants me to go to D.C. with her tomorrow, so I was hoping I could work on your car tonight.”

“In the dark?”

“Well, I’ll need you to hold the light for me.”

A dozen thoughts ran through her head. What excuse could she give him? She thought of asking him if he could wait until Tuesday, but that would leave her without a car the following day. Plus, it was hardly fair of her to dictate when he should work on the car, since he was doing it for free. She could bring the radio outside with them, but Adam would probably realize that Linc Sebastian was the man she’d met in Philadelphia. She should never have told Adam that her old lover had gotten a message to her through a radio show.

“Kim? Are you sure you’re awake?” Adam was smiling at her, and she shook her head as if clearing away the cobwebs.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m fine. Let me get my jacket and make sure Cody’s asleep, and I’ll meet you down there, okay?”

“Okay. Bring a roll of paper towels, will you?”

Cody was sleeping like an angel, and Linc was in the middle of a set of Donovan songs. She felt like crying as she put on her jacket and started down the stairs, leaving the radio playing softly behind her.

Adam needed her for more than holding the light. He had her sit in the car, pumping the brakes until her leg ached. She stared at the car radio, wishing she could turn it on. A few times she went back to the apartment to “check on Cody,” but if Linc was talking to her, through his own words or through the music, she was not getting the message.

“There,” Adam said as he finally crawled out from under the car. “That should do it. Let’s take it around the block once and see how they feel.”

“I can tell they feel tight now,” she said from behind the steering wheel, her foot on the brake. “We don’t need to drive it.” There was still a half hour left of
Songs for the Asking
.

“Yes, we do. Just to make sure. I’ll stay here and listen for Cody, and you take it around the block. Then you can have your bath.”

He grinned at her as if he’d discerned her secret. “I know that’s what you’re dying to do.”

She looked at him apologetically. “I really appreciate this, Adam,” she said. “I’m sorry if I haven’t seemed like I do.”

He waved her off, and she drove down the street, knowing it would be quicker to drive around the block than to argue about it. The brakes were fine, and she was soon back at the curb in front of her apartment.

Adam was waiting for her on the porch steps. He gave her a little wave, and even from the road, she could see the car grime on his hands.

He’s a good man
, she thought. He must have been a terrific husband and father. And he could be a significant part of her life, if she could only let go of her addiction to that voice on the radio.

“They’re perfect,” she said as she approached the porch steps, and she leaned forward to kiss him. “Thank you so much. Do you want to come in for a little while?” She had to offer. She couldn’t simply send him on his way.

“No.” He walked down the steps and stood next to her. “No, I know you’re anxious to have some time to yourself.” He gave her a hug. “How late can I call you tomorrow night? I’m not sure what time we’ll get back from D.C.”

“Eleven?”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you then.”

Upstairs, she flopped down on her bed and listened as Linc wrapped up his show. She’d expected at least to be able to hear him play “Suzanne,” but he closed with yet another Donovan song. She listened carefully to the words, hunting for some personal meaning in them but coming away with none, and by the time she turned off the radio, she was in tears.

–32–

“THANK YOU SO MUCH
, Kim,” Lucy switched off the tape recorder lying on Kim’s coffee table. “Your candor is going to make this a good article.”

The interview had been relatively painless. From her seat on the sofa, Kim had slipped into her “I’m Kim Stratton” mode and answered Lucy’s questions with ease. She wondered, though, if candor and honesty were truly the same thing.

“Just promise me that you’ll give us interesting names,” she said.

“I’ve already come up with names for you.” Lucy flipped open a notebook. “I always try to pick names my readers can relate to. I’m going to call you Laura, and Cody, Tyler.”

“What?” Kim felt the color drain from her face.

“Laura’s a common name, and the name Tyler is very popular right now. A lot of women will be able to see their own little boy in him.”

Kim’s hands clutched the edge of the seat cushion. She knew she’d better choose her words carefully. “Do you think you could pick another name for Cody?” she asked. “A friend of mine had a Tyler and he was a horrible little kid.” She expected to have to explain herself further, but Lucy seemed unperturbed.

“How about Matthew, then? Matthew’s always a good name.”

“I like Matthew,” Kim said. The phone rang, and she rose to answer it. “Thanks for indulging me,” she said over her shoulder as she walked into the kitchen.

“Hello?” she said into the phone.

“Ms. Stratton?”

The formal-sounding, unfamiliar voice put her on guard. “Yes?

“This is Barb Kotter from Kotter Enterprises?”

The company name was vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

“We received your brochure regarding word processing,” the woman continued.

“Oh, yes,” she said.

“Well, we’re in a bit of a bind,” the woman said. “We have an urgent job and the person who usually does our word processing for us is ill. Is there a chance you could come over for a quick interview? I know it’s nearly five, and this is terribly late notice, but—”

“Yes. I can do that.” She glanced at Cody. He was sitting on the living room floor, playing with the activity box Linc had given him. She wanted to ask if she could bring her baby along, but thought better of it. She had a feeling people didn’t bring their children to interviews at Kotter Enterprises.

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