CHAPTER 9
“THE KNEE looks good. You can’t climb any mountains yet, but it’s looking good.”
Russ shifted on the examining table, flexing the leg. “Then you’ll release me?”
The doctor peered at Russ over the rim of his glasses. “Like I said, no climbing any mountains.”
“I believe there’s an elevator to my new office,” Russ hedged. Well, it was the truth. He simply omitted the fact that he expected to spend very little time in any office. No mountains, ha! Well, the majority of the mountain climbing would be done by the men he supervised. He couldn’t really guarantee he wouldn’t ever have to climb one. In his line of work, there were no guarantees.
But then, it wouldn’t be the first time he didn’t follow a doctor’s orders, either. This morning, on the plane he’d flown to Washington, he’d mulled over his new position, reminding himself of the old adage, “Be careful what you ask for, you just might get it.”
The doctor chuckled. “I’ll sign your release. I want to see you again in three months. Meanwhile, take it easy. One heroic mistake, and you’ll be back to square one.”
Actually, square one, and the recuperation period hadn’t been so bad… all things considered. Russ left the doctor’s, and took a cab to the office.
Dirty patches of snow lined Pennsylvania Avenue. He didn’t usually mind snow in December. In fact, in Morning Sun it was great. Somehow, black snow in Washington D.C. didn’t have the same charm. He looked out the dirt-spattered window. What was Beth doing at this very moment? Was he consuming her thoughts as she did his?
Saying goodbye to her had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. Falling in love with her, the easiest.
His life objectives had changed in the past two months. Things he’d once thought important, no longer held their appeal. Was he getting old? Well, he was no spring chicken anymore, but twenty-nine wasn’t old, unless you factored in a lack of roots. No family, no wife, no children, not even a mangy, good-for-nothing mutt like Jasper.
No life.
How many times had he told his buddies to get a life? When would he listen to his own advice?
The first thing he did when he was back in his office for a couple of hours before his plane was scheduled to take him on his new assignment, was place Astor on his desk. He turned the dog toward him and studied the huge grin he had learned to tolerate. Hell, he even missed that dog. He jabbed a number into the phone.
He glanced up, his eyes meeting those of his coordinator, Ed Miller, and slammed down the receiver. “I can’t get through. You may have to line up an escort to meet the plane in Colombia. I’ve called for half an hour now, and it rings twice and disconnects. I’ll keep trying until I have to leave. And Ed, remember that position you talked with me about before I put in for this one?”
“The one you flat out refused to even talk about with the brass? You said that adapting all the Bureau’s manuals for the computer was…well, I won’t repeat what you said it was. That one?”
“Yes, Ed, that one.”
“It’s been put on hold for now. After you refused it, George Stephens assigned a task force to study the problem. They’ve come up with a temporary fix. Memos are still flying about the need. Not many agents have the field experience you have. Most get out of the hard physical stuff as soon as a job opens up. There’s talk of hiring an outside consultant to finish the job.”
Russ groaned.
“Having second thoughts? Your knee the problem?”
No, dammit, his knee was not the problem. Russ leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head. A headache pounded behind his eyelids. The fact was, he had dismissed the offer so completely, he couldn’t remember any of the details.
Ed nodded. “Could be a real plum. Two paygrade jump. Real boost when retirement rolls around. You could leave this high-rent area and live anywhere. All you’d need is a phone line to your computer.” He tapped a pen on the folder. “Shall I tell them you’ve changed your mind if the opportunity comes around again?”
Russ felt the blood chum in his veins. He couldn’t think about it now. Telephone line? Morning Sun had telephone lines.
Ed was halfway out the door when he turned for a parting shot. “There are plenty of agents who would give their eyeteeth for a chance like this. Some have spent their entire twenty years of service applying for this kind of opportunity. You turned your back on the deal of a lifetime.” He disappeared down the corridor.
Twenty years. That was hell of a long time to want something. Beth. Ten years was a long time to want something and not go after it. He looked around his new office, an office he’d probably spend thirty out of the next fifty-two weeks away from.
For two cents… There was a sharp rap on the door frame as another agent stepped into the room. Was he the only one in this office with work to do?
“Hear you’re headed out this afternoon.”
“Seems to be the case.”
“Didn’t give you the full time off for your leave, did they?”
“I’m almost back to par. The doctor says no mountain climbing.” They both laughed aloud.
“What did he say about jumping out of helicopters?”
“We didn’t go into that. It must be okay.” Russ stood to shake Rodney Henson’s offered hand.
“Take care, buddy. These drug lords don’t care who they eliminate or how they do the job. We’re counting on you to come back alive and in one piece.” Russ nodded and Rodney sauntered out the door.
Within the hour, Russ was back at the airport to board a plane for Colombia. He hated the thought of leaving the country. Colombia was a continent away from Beth. Standing in front of the boarding gate, he dialed Harriet’s number on his pocket cell phone. Harriet answered on the first ring.
“Harriet? Russ Foster.”
“Russell! How nice to hear your voice. How do you like Washington?”
“It’s okay. Is Beth around?”
“No, she just left for a friend’s baby shower. Mary Sue Edgar? Do you know Mary Sue?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Well, she and Beth are good friends. Beth didn’t want to go, for fear you might call. I had to make her go—she’ll be sick she didn’t get to talk to you.”
“I’m sick I missed her. Jasper giving you any trouble?”
“No, not at all. He loves my biscuits, did you know that?”
“And I can’t blame him. Harry, do you have Mary Sue’s number?”
There was no answer, but the receiver clunked loudly, and he could hear Harriet’s footsteps fade from the area.
“Russ?”
“Yes?”
“I can’t find it. If you can wait awhile, I can go next door and get it.”
His flight number was called for final boarding. “No, I have to go, now. Harriet, can you give Beth a message for me?”
“Certainly, dear.”
“Tell her I’m leaving the country—I’ll be out of touch for a couple of weeks. Tell her I love her, and I’ll call the minute I get back to the states.”
“I’ll do that. Now Russell, it’s dangerous out of the country. All kinds of weirdos running around out there. You be careful, you hear?”
“Thanks, I’ll try…Harriet?”
“Yes?”
“Tell Beth I love her.”
“Certainly, dear. She loves you, too, I’m sure.”
Hanging up, Russ pressed his head against the receiver. Damn. What a way to tell a woman you love her. What a way to spend a life. Get a life, Foster!
Two nights later, he dialed Harry’s number as he lay on a cot, fending off mosquitoes. He gasped for breath in the oppressive heat. How did people breathe in this? The line was busy! Where was Beth tonight? God, he missed her—wanted her so bad he hurt. He wanted to be in Morning Sun, eating Harriet’s raisin meat loaf instead of in a leaky tent in a godforsaken jungle playing James Bond. He shook the phone. Who was on the line? Who knew when he’d have another clear signal?
He crumpled the pillow over his ears and blocked out the night sounds. What kinds of varmints were out there? What had he ever found so fascinating about this job?
* * *
“ARE YOU eating in tonight?” Harriet put a pan of something resembling hash into the oven, and closed the door.
“Yes. Are you sure Russ hasn’t called?” Beth glanced at the silent phone. He’d been in Washington over a week, and she hadn’t heard a word from him. Not one word. She picked up the phone and checked for a dial tone. The instrument seemed to be in proper working order. Hanging up, she stared at the receiver. Was he playing mind games with her? That wasn’t his style. She couldn’t call him—she had no idea where he was staying.
“Called?” Harriet thought a moment. “No…that nice fellow, David, called. He asked about Jasper—he’s very fond of that animal.”
“Did you tell him not to worry, we’re taking good care of Jasper?” At the sound of his name, the big dog stood, stretched, and walked to Beth to be petted.
“I told him Jasper was fine.” Harry scurried around the kitchen singing “Here Comes Peter Cottontail,” as she took dishes from the cabinets.
Beth cupped the dog’s face in her hands. “You miss your family, don’t you, ol’ guy?” she whispered under her breath. “I miss someone, too. It hurts doesn’t it, boy?”
“He knows we’ll take care of the dog. He said something about going somewhere, I think downtown.”
Beth frowned. “What? Dave and Carol are going somewhere else? Try to think, Aunt Harriet. Exactly what did David say? Did he mention Russ?”
“Or coming back—I’m not sure. No…I’m sure he said he was going—going to be gone for… oh, wait. No, he said—”
“Never mind, Aunt Harry.” It didn’t matter, anyway. She had plenty of time to take care of Jasper and check on their house. “What are we having for dinner?”
“Beef curry. That David’s such a nice man—always so pleasant to visit with.”
Biting her lower lip, Beth sat down in the breakfast nook, and reached for an apple to peel. Where was Russ? What could possibly keep him from calling her? She couldn’t call his office. She couldn’t call his hotel. He’d left in such a hurry and she had no numbers and no information about how to contact him.
But he promised to call. No job, no matter how secretive it was, filled a man’s every spare moment. She bit back tears. The night he’d gotten the order to leave—what was it all about? He said he’d explain when he phoned her. He had insisted that he loved her, that they could work out a long-distance relationship—
Beth, grow up. You believed him because you desperately wanted to believe him. Just as you desperately want to believe that he loves you, and that he meant every word he said that night. You want to believe that he cares for you, that the night before he left wasn’t just a reactionary impulse—one last fling with ol’ Beth, before he left Morning Sun for Washington and a new exciting, adventurous job.
No. It wasn’t that she wanted to believe him, she would not accept that Russ was deceitful. Relationships were built on mutual trust; she trusted him, refused to believe he would be that big of a jerk. There had to be a plausible explanation why he hadn’t called yet. She just needed to talk to him to know that explanation!
“Cake, dear?”
“No thanks, Aunt Harry.” Beth bit into the tasteless apple, swallowing back tears. But if he did love her, he wouldn’t let this much time pass without calling her to let her know where he was staying. Grow up, Beth, she told herself. You’re still Harriet Davis’s niece.
THE PLANE TOUCHED down on the narrow landing strip, the big engines reversing as the jet screamed down the runway. Russ retrieved his bag from the overhead bin and exited the plane, his eyes searching for a bank of phones. He had called Beth a dozen times today and every time, he’d received a busy signal. Twenty minutes between planes. Hang up the phone, Harry.
At last! He counted the rings. One, two, three times. Be home, Beth, he prayed. Pick up, pick up, pick up. Four, five, six. He eyed the clock. Thirteen minutes and six gates before his connecting flight left.
Seven, eight, nine.
Hanging up, he considered missing the plane. Why not? In the mood he was in, the last place he wanted to go was deeper into South America. His eyes located the front door and he thought about escape. Walk out, walk away from a position it took him years to achieve? He had all the money he would ever need. Was he nuts? There were men whose lives depended on his decision. He couldn’t walk out on them.
He sprinted the six gates to the connecting flight. They called for early boarders. He wasn’t carrying a weapon this time, so he didn’t have to preboard. He fumbled in his pocket for the bookstore number. He should have tried that number anyway. “Please, God—let her be there. He jabbed the numbers into his cell phone. The phone rang. One ring, two.
The early boarders were on, rows twenty-six through thirty were called. He was aisle, row eight.
Three rings, four, five.
Beth’s voice came across the wire. “Hello, you have reached The Readers’ Nook. Our hours are nine to five, Monday through Saturday. Visit us for your holiday book buying needs. If you wish to have your call returned, please leave your name and number after the tone.”
Beep.
“Beth? Honey? Look, I’m in Colombia, and an emergency’s come up. I’m on my way farther south. I love you—God, I love you. I’ll call again. I should be back in the States soon—maybe three, four days, if everything goes smoothly.”
Final boarding call.
“Beth, look, I’ve been thinking. This job isn’t working out. All I can think of is you in Morning Sun, me flying all over the world.” He was running toward the portable stairway propped against his plane.
“This isn’t any way to live. I want to be with you. Until I met you, I didn’t know the meaning of the word, love. But I do now—I love you, Beth. With every ounce of my being, and I want us to be together.” His voice broke, and he sucked in a deep breath as he raced up the stairs. Hell of a life—pouring out his guts to an answering machine, but Beth had to know how he felt. For the first time in his life, he wanted to be somewhere other than where he was. The door slammed behind him.
“We’ll talk about it when I call again.” Other passengers stared at him as he made his way down the aisle talking on his phone.
He clamped the receiver under his jaw and swung into his seat. “Hey! I’ll be back in a few days. I’ll call you the minute I land—try to be around, Beth. I need to hear your voice.” He pressed the End key and sank back into his seat.
* * *
BETH UNLOCKED the bookstore and flipped on the lights. Snow was coming down again. The wind was blowing gale force, and the weatherman had announced that road conditions were deteriorating by the hour.
“I might as well not even open today,” she called as Harry trailed her into the back room. If she’d had any idea the roads were so slick she wouldn’t have attempted to come in, herself.
“I wouldn’t if I were you. No one’s going to risk driving today, even if Christmas is a week off.” Harry picked up a feather duster. “Think I’ll just tidy up a bit while you do whatever you need to do.”
“Thanks. Can you dust the front reading area? I’ve been so busy I haven’t touched it all week.”
“Certainly.” Harriet went off in search of dust. In a few minutes, she called. “Beth, you have phone messages.”
Russ! Beth’s heart flew to her throat. Finally!
“I’ll listen and write them down for you,” Harriet said.
Beth froze. No. No! “No, Aunt Harry! I’ll get them!” She darted out of the back room, racing to the front register.
“Let’s see…messages…push answer…ooops!” Aunt Harry’s hand flew to her mouth.
Beth’s heart sank. “Aunt Harry, you didn’t.”
Harriet smiled weakly. “I wish they wouldn’t put the answer button so close to the erase button.” She looked genuinely contrite. “That’s so confusing.”
Beth wanted to sit down and bawl like a baby. Had Russ called?
“How many messages were there, Aunt Harry?”
“Oh, let’s see…two. There were two.” She patted Beth’s arm. “I’m sure if it’s important, they’ll call back. Probably just someone wanting to know if you have a certain book.”
Or someone just wanting to say he was missing her.
Sinking onto a chair, Beth bit back tears. What if Russ tried to call and left a message? Maybe he called the house! Her spirits lifted.
“I’ll call the answering machine at the house and see if there are any messages at home.” Beth dialed, then entered the answering machine’s security code. Busy signal.
“Aunt Harry, did you leave the phone off the hook again?”
“Yes. Zoose from Mercury’s been calling again.”
Hanging up, she vowed if she ever saw Russ Foster again, she was going to…to… Oh, Russ. Where are you? Are you hurt? Are you lying in some snakeinfested jungle? You better be dying of something if you’ve lied to me and broken my heart.
Have you been captured by a drug lord?
Then her temper flared.
Russell Foster, where are you!
* * *
RUSS LIFTED a glass of Coke, halfway listening to the conversation going on around him. Rain pelted the Quonset hut. The smell of vegetation was thick in the air. Where were the holiday smells? He wanted to smell spiced cider, evergreen trees and cranberry candles. If he closed his eyes, he could almost smell the fireplace, hear the crackle of the fire, feel Beth’s smooth skin beneath him. He could almost taste her. A glass clinked on the counter.
“Happy holidays.”
A pretty, young, dark-skinned waitress pushed another drink in front of him. “Holidays?”
“Feliz Navidad.”
She smiled and nodded. “To you, also. Will there be others in your party, sir?”
“Yes, four others.”
The waitress left, and Russ stared at the rain outside the open window. Beth consumed his thoughts. Where was she right now? He pictured Harriet’s front room littered with winnings, the smell of baked bread permeating the house. The thought of a Christmas tree on a toy wagon brought a smile to his lips and a stab to his heart.
He had tried every chance he got to call, and every time, the line had been busy. Maybe the telephone lines were down to the house. There could have been enough ice to break the connecting line to Beth’s house. His gaze dropped to his drink. What was he doing here? Why wasn’t he there in Harriet’s parlor, drinking eggnog made from who-knows-what, spending the holiday with the woman he loved?
Good Lord, he had enough money and investments to retire if he wanted to. He’d have to invest wisely, but he didn’t even have to consider a desk job. What if he didn’t have a cent to his name? He’d give it all up to be with Beth.
Whatever possessed him to be sitting in a shack somewhere in South America doing a job he no longer wanted to do? Was it stubbornness? Tenacity? The unwillingness to give up something he’d worked hard to achieve? A man his age didn’t retire—he would be a fool to give up his benefits.
Be a fool, Foster. A fool for love, for happiness. Get a life.
Emotions warred inside him. How easy it would be to listen to that still, small voice. He was lonesome, he wanted Beth. He needed more than retirement and a hefty 401K when he reached the age of forty-five.
He looked around the hut. Strangers sat alone at the bar. They were just like him. There was nothing here he wanted.
And nothing in Washington interested him. What he wanted was in Morning Sun. In that little town lived a woman he loved and a brother and sister-in-law he needed to form a family bond with. There was even an aunt that he was very fond of.
“You’re nuts, Foster,” he muttered, almost afraid to let the realization of what he was about to do sink in. “You’ve really lost it.
“Waitress?”
The young girl came to the table. “Yes, sir?”
“Thanks.” He laid a twenty on the table. “Keep the change.”
The decision was made. He ran back to his room. He was calling one more time. Then he was catching a plane and going home.
The phone rang four times before an unfamiliar man’s voice answered.
“Hello?”
“Is Beth Davis there?” He glanced at the number on the paper. Did he misdial?
“No, who’s this?”
“Russ Foster. Who’s this?”
“This is George! How are you? Heard you went up to Washington.”
Russ smiled. “I’m fine, George. I’m calling from South America.”
“From where?”
“South America.”
“Good heavens! Do they have telephones down there?”
“Yes, they do. Where’s Beth?”
“At the hospital! Harriet slipped on a patch of ice on the front porch steps, wrenched her back somethin’ awful. Shouldn’t have been out there a’tall. I told her, but she’s a stubborn woman—”
“Is she hurt?”
“Well, yes, she’s hurt! Wouldn’t be in the hospital if she wasn’t hurt, would she? That Jasper dog broke her fall. Didn’t do him no good, either. Never heard such a commotion. They’re both over at the hospital getting treatment. Well, no, that’s not right. Jasper’s at the vet, and Harry’s in the hospital.”
Russ grinned. Good old Jasper!
“Then it’s not serious?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t know,” George said. “Like I said, they’re at the Emergency Room right now. I had to watch the cake she had in the oven, and take the dog to the vet. I’m getting ready to go over there. Be glad to tell her you called.”
“No, don’t tell her, George. I’m flying home tonight.” Thunder shook the ground, and he spoke closer to the receiver, packing his bag as he talked. “If I can get a plane, I’m coming home. I want to surprise Beth!”
George chuckled into the receiver. “You’ll surprise her all right. She’s been waitin’ for you to call. Mad as an old settin’ hen, she is.”
Russ zipped his bag and glanced around the room to see if he had forgotten anything. “I called. Didn’t she get my message—” The phone line went dead.
No—no! He shook the receiver and smacked the cradle. He couldn’t get another dial tone.
“Damn.” He stuffed the palm-size instrument into his jacket pocket and slammed out the door.