fifteen

Curt took Christy home and insisted that she go right to bed, refusing to listen to her protests.

“I’ll be downstairs on the sofa,” he said at the top of the steps by her bedroom door. “If you need me, just call for me. I’ll hear you.”

Waiting to make sure Christy actually went into her bedroom and closed the door, Curt then made his way quickly to the telephone. He dialed the number absentmindedly and waited for Debbie to answer.

“Hello?”

“Debbie, it’s Curt.”

“Where in the world have you been?” Her voice was edged with true concern. “I’ve been trying to locate you for hours.”

“I know. Listen, something big has happened, and I need your help….”

Minutes later, Curt dialed the second of two phone calls he knew he’d have to make. It was quite late, but there was no putting it off.

“Hello?” a sleep-filled voice sounded on the other end of the line.

“Brad, it’s Curt.”

“What is it?” Brad’s voice immediately sounded clearer.

“Something’s happened tonight, and I think you should be aware of it. I also think the time has come to get CJ out of Denver. Especially away from Cheryl.” Curt’s voice was a low whisper.

“Why?” Brad asked without hesitation.

“Cheryl’s fiancé, Stratton McFarland, is the man at the center of our investigation. He’s really a man named Grant Burks, at least I presume that’s his real name. My partner is checking it out even as we speak. Look, I don’t think Cheryl has any idea about the drug ring, but I can’t risk it. I’m going to see Ben tomorrow, and I have no idea how it will go. It’s very possible that even Ben is involved in this. We can’t risk CJ being with Cheryl when things go sour. I think you’d better get her out of town.”

“I understand, and I’ll see to everything at this end,” Brad replied.

“CJ won’t like it,” Curt said as if Brad wouldn’t already know.

“No, she won’t,” Brad replied. “But she’ll do what she’s told—at least this once.”

Curt hung up the phone and took a deep breath. If only he knew whether or not Cheryl and Ben were involved. Surely they weren’t. Doug O’Sullivan had loved Ben like a brother. The families had always been inseparable. Ben would never have allowed anything bad to happen to Doug if he could have stopped it, of this Curt was certain.

“Oh, God,” Curt breathed, “where are the answers?”

Upstairs, Christy lay awake in the huge Victorian bed. She thought at first, when she’d crawled between the cool comfort of her sheets, that she’d sleep forever. But that wasn’t to be the case. She felt wide awake.

Hours passed as she tossed from one side of the bed to the other, trying without luck to find a comfortable position. Why couldn’t she just relax and forget about the events of the night?

Moonlight came through the window, streaking shadows across the room. Christy sat up and hugged her knees to her chest. Curt had said that Candy knew where she was going and that was why she wasn’t afraid to die. But Christy didn’t know where she was going. Christy felt alone and lost, so helplessly lost. The void inside was eating her alive, and she finally threw off the covers and went to find Curt. She had to settle this thing once and for all. She had to make peace with God and know where she was going.

Silently she crept down the stairs and went to the sitting room, where she knew Curt would be sleeping. She glanced at the small fire he’d built before retiring. It was dying down so that just a flicker of flames danced upward every so often. She came to stand beside the sleeping man and noticed in the dim light that he had the most beautiful eyelashes.

“Curt,” she whispered his name.

“Yeah?”

The fact that he was wide awake startled her for only a moment. “I need to talk to you about God. I need…” Her words fell away as tears came unbidden to her eyes.

Curt sat up and pushed the covers away. “Come here,” he said, patting the couch.

“I’m so lost, Curt. I’m scared and lost and empty. I don’t know where I’m going. Do you understand?”

Curt reached out and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Yes, I understand. You need to have peace in your soul. You want to know that you’ll see your sister again and that God will take care of all the details and give you strength to go on.”

“Yes,” she whispered, nodding her head. “Oh, yes!”

There was no tone of condemnation, nor did Curt offer a pious sermon. He simply took her hand and smiled. “Isaiah 40:30–31 says, ‘Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.’ I always liked that verse because I was a pilot and soaring on wings like eagles was an important part of my life. But just like you, there were times when I couldn’t cope and things seemed much too difficult to deal with. My mom showed me this verse when I was quite small and told me that I had a source of strength that would never fail me. All I had to do was put my hope in the Lord, and He would do the rest.”

Curt continued to share God’s love, and when he asked Christy if she was ready to accept salvation through Christ, she knew she was. It not only felt right, but it was clearly the only choice.

“Then we’ll just pray,” Curt told her softly, “and ask God to save you. We’ll ask Jesus to bring you into His family forever.”

Christy bit at her lower lip. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to say it right.”

“Then we’ll do it together,” Curt said supportively. He pulled her close. “Just repeat after me, and only say it if you really and truly mean it. God already knows your heart, Christy. He just wants you to recognize what He’s already seen there.”

“All right. I’m ready,” she replied.

“Dear Father, I know I’m lost without You,” Curt began and Christy repeated the words, knowing them to be truer than anything she’d ever spoken in her life.

“Forgive me of my sins and help me to turn away from evil, so that I might live forever with You in heaven.” Again Christy echoed the words.

“I accept what Jesus did for me on the cross, dying to take my place. I ask that You would accept me now as Your child and forever keep me in Your care. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

Christy finished the prayer and sat silently for several minutes. She thought of Curt’s words and her prayer and wondered if she would ever truly feel as though she soared on wings like eagles. Even with the assurance that she had salvation, Christy still ached from the loss of her sibling, and she faced the idea of motherhood with uncertainty.

Gently, Curt turned Christy to face him and cupped her chin in his hand. “I love you. I’ve loved you for a very long time, and I will always love only you.”

Christy felt her heart skip a beat. “I love you, too.” The words slipped out before she could guard her thoughts. Feeling almost embarrassed, she tried to turn away, but Curt would have no part of it.

“Trust me, Christy. Just as you are trusting God for your soul and eternity, trust me to love you and be faithful to you,” he whispered sincerely.

“It’s not easy to trust after a lifetime of hurt.”

“I know, but I’m patient and,” he paused and grinned broadly, “determined.”

“Yes, you certainly are,” Christy agreed.

“I want you to understand some things, but now isn’t the right time. Please trust me in this, and when the time comes, try to remember that I love you and that you can count on that love.”

Christy wondered what Curt could possibly mean. What things? She opened her mouth to ask, but Curt put his finger to her lips.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just trust me.”

When Christy returned alone to her room, she found that sleep quickly replaced her restlessness. When morning came, she awoke re-freshed, and though the memory of Candy’s death dimmed her spirits, Christy realized there was hope.

She quickly showered and styled her hair. Christy decided that routine would be the best way to keep from being bogged down in grief. Going to her desk, she reviewed her appoint- ment book and made plans for the day. Cheryl Fairchild was coming at 9:30, so she would have to finish with her makeup and hurry if she was going to get a chance to read the paper and have her juice.

Nearly floating down the stairs with a heart lighter than she’d ever known, Christy wondered if it was her acceptance of God and His promises that made her feel so free or Curt’s declaration of love.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Although his clothes were wrinkled, Christy thought she’d never seen a better-looking man in all her life. “Morning. I see you’re cooking again.” She motioned to the stove.

“Yes, but you’ll find that your juice and paper are already in the usual place.”

Christy shook her head and laughed. “Are you trying to push Aggie out of a job?”

“Naw, just showing you how useful I am. What’s on the agenda for the day? I know you’ll want to go see the baby, but what else have you got planned?”

“I have an appointment at 9:30. It’s a final fitting, so it shouldn’t take long. If you want to stick around and go up to the hospital with me, you’re welcome to do so.”

“I’d like that, Christy,” Curt said, coming to place a light kiss on her forehead. “It’s the first time you’ve ever asked me to take you somewhere.”

“It’s the first time you’ve given me a chance to ask. Usually you just jump in and demand,” she said with a smile.

“Okay, I’ll try to be less demanding,” he said, matching her smile. “What else have you planned?”

Christy lost her smile, remembering that she’d no doubt be required to make arrangements for Candy’s funeral. “My sister,” she stated hesitantly, and Curt nodded. There was no need to continue, so Christy dropped the subject and went to the enclosed balcony where her juice and paper awaited her.

Curt was cleaning up the kitchen while Christy made ready for Cheryl in the fitting room. She was glad this was to be the final fitting. Cheryl Fairchild was very rich, but also very flighty. At least, Christy reasoned, she must be or she wouldn’t have cancelled her wedding so many times. When the doorbell rang, Christy made her way down the hall, but not before Curt answered the door.

“Curt O’Sullivan!” Cheryl exclaimed. “What in the world are you doing here?” Christy froze in place as the perky blond continued. “I would never in a million years expect to see you here. Did CJ tell you I was coming for my final fitting today?”

Curt cast a wary look over his shoulder, and Christy met his gaze.

Cheryl was impervious to the couple’s reaction. “Curt O’Sullivan and I are longtime friends,” she said to Christy. “We were once en-gaged, but that’s all water under a long, distant bridge.”

Christy said nothing, concentrating instead on the fact that Cheryl Fairchild had called him Curt O’Sullivan for the second time. She finally tore her eyes from Cheryl’s bubbly face and met Curt’s stare. He seemed to be trying to apologize with his expression, but Christy re-mained unemotionally stiff.

“I have another surprise,” Cheryl continued, still not realizing that any problem existed with her declaration of Curt’s true identity. “I know I promised no more delays in the wedding and there aren’t any, but there is a minor problem.” She glanced at Curt. “I’m pregnant. I thought we might need to make sure the gown will still fit in another month.”

Christy noted that Curt’s face registered shock, and then, a look of almost anger seemed to penetrate his expression. Maybe he didn’t like the idea that his onetime fiancée was expecting another man’s child. Maybe he’d never gotten over his feelings for her. Maybe…

Christy shook her head and dismissed the matter from her mind. First he’d been engaged to Cheryl and then Debbie. How many more women were in his life? Curt had lied to her. He’d said she could trust him, but he’d even lied about who he really was. He wasn’t Curt Kyle at all, but some man named O’Sullivan.

“Go on to the fitting room,” Christy said mechanically, her eyes refusing to leave Curt’s face. “The gown is hanging on the wall. Go ahead and get ready to try it on.”

“You aren’t miffed with me, are you?” Cheryl questioned as she came to where Christy was standing.

“What?” Christy broke contact with Curt to question Cheryl.

“This pregnancy thing,” Cheryl said in explanation. “You aren’t mad about it, are you?”

“No,” Christy stated. “You’re small enough that another month isn’t going to matter that much. The dress design is such that you shouldn’t have any trouble.”

“Oh, good,” Cheryl said and turned to Curt. “It was great seeing you again. By the way, Stratton really did enjoy meeting you the other night. He’s always had a great interest in CJ and Brad. He wants us all to be close friends. Say, will you be here when I’m done with the fitting?”

Curt said nothing.

“Mr. O’Sullivan,” Christy said, with pointed reference to his last name, “was just leaving.”

“That’s too bad. Call me, Curt. You can get the number from CJ. I want to be sure and have you come to the wedding. You know, for old time’s sake.”

The minute Cheryl was out of the room, Curt tried to explain. “Remember, I told you there were things I had to talk to you about. Trust me, Christy, please, just trust me.”

“No. Get out!” she demanded as quietly as she could.

“You have to let me explain.”

“No, I don’t.” Her words were guarded and low. “I never want to see you again. Now leave.” She turned to go assist Cheryl and found Curt’s arms pinning her in a steely grip. He pulled her against him, and Christy fought back.

“Just listen to me.”

Christy brought her foot down on top of his, but it didn’t phase him. She pushed and struggled against his hold, but she was no match for him. Finally, she grew quiet, and Curt released her.

She turned slowly and couldn’t keep the tears from forming in her eyes. “Haven’t I been through enough? Did you think it was some game you could play with me? Did Debbie even know who you were?”

“I’m sorry, Christy. I told you last night that there were things we needed to discuss, but I wanted to wait until the time was right.”

“And when would that have been?” Christy questioned softly. “Maybe when we were filling out the papers for a marriage license? Oh, by the way, you won’t be Mrs. Kyle, you’ll be Mrs. O’Sullivan.”

“Christy…”

“No,” she shook her head, saying, “please just go. If you truly love me, then go. I can’t deal with this now.”

Curt reluctantly left Christy’s house and had nearly reached the corporate offices of O&F Aviation before realizing where he was. It was time to talk to Ben Fairchild. There was no putting it off, and Curt had enough anger and regret burning inside to fuel the conversation.

Steeled with determination, Curt marched into the building and made his way to Ben’s office, mindless of the uproar he caused when he bypassed three secretaries and kept going.

“Sir, do you have an appointment with Mr. Fairchild?” a woman questioned, dogging Curt’s heels all the way to the massive door that read, “B. Fairchild, President.”

“He’ll see me, lady,” Curt announced unemotionally. “He’ll see me.”

“But, sir, I have to let him know…”

Curt stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “I’m half-owner of this operation. You don’t have to let him know anything.” With that, he threw open the door and stared at the white-haired man, who looked back at him in complete shock.

“Curt!” Ben Fairchild declared, getting to his feet. “I’d heard you were in town. Come in.” He seemed to look past Curt to the woman and added, “It’s okay, Janice. This is Curt O’Sullivan.”

The woman and Curt exchanged brief glances before she made her way out of the room and closed the door. Curt studied his father’s friend for a moment, wondering silently if this man had given the order to kill his father. Steady, he thought. I have to be cool about this or he’ll never talk. Give him enough rope to hang on.

“Ben, it’s been a long time,” Curt finally said. “I’m sorry for barging in like this, but I didn’t have time to call.”

“No problem, son. I’ve hoped you’d come home for a long time. Sit down and tell me what you’ve been up to. Are you home for good?”

Curt took the offered leather chair and shook his head. “I’m not sure. I heard about CJ’s marriage and wanted to come see for myself that she hadn’t married some bum who just wanted her money.”

Ben laughed, and Curt thought it sounded a little stilted. “Alders-son has plenty of his own money. You can be sure of that. I checked before CJ married him. I wouldn’t have let harm come to her.”

“Really?” Curt said without thinking.

Ben’s eyes narrowed questioningly. “Why do you say that?”

Curt put his elbows on the armrests and drew his fingertips to-gether. “Ben, there are some things from the past that you and I need to talk over. I’m not real sure how to go about this, but I need some answers, and I think you may well be the one man who has them.”

“Me?” Ben questioned, and this time there was no mistaking the tremble in his voice. “What kinds of things are you talking about?”

“Mom and Dad. The crash.” Curt watched as the color drained from Ben’s face.

“That’s not an easy topic.”

“I know, but it is one that needs to be settled.”

“Settled? What do you mean, settled? The crash is more than five years behind us.”

“Yeah, but not everything about it is five years behind us. Some things are still very much current affairs.”

“Such as?”

Curt bit at his lip as if thinking of just the right words. What he wanted to do was to unnerve Ben enough that the man would jump into the conversation without Curt having to ask any questions. Waiting a minute more, Ben did just that.

“I can’t tell you how hard life has been for me without your father. I loved him like a brother. He and your mother both were like family.” Ben paused, shuffled some papers on his desk, then returned his gaze to Curt. “I’ve done my best by the business, Curt.”

“No one said you didn’t, Ben.”

“I’ve had some difficulties, but I’ve done what I could to straighten them out. It hasn’t always been easy, but maybe you could come back to work and give me a hand.”

“What would Stratton McFarland do for a job then?”

“Stratton?” Ben swallowed hard, and Curt refused to cut him a single inch of space. “He’s engaged to Cheryl, you know,” Ben said abruptly.

“Yeah, I know. I also know a great deal more about Mr. McFarland than I think you realize.”

Ben coughed spasmodically and got to his feet. “Look, Curt, I don’t know what you’re getting at. I don’t know why you’re here today, but I’ve tried to do good by you. I felt I owed it to your mother and father.”

“Why, Ben? Because you were the reason for the crash?” Curt hadn’t meant it to come out that way, but now it was said and there was nothing more to do.

Ben’s breathing quickened, but Curt sat with an unmoving eye on the man.

A look washed over Ben’s face that seemed at first to be one of searing pain and then almost relief. “I didn’t want them to die.” Curt re-mained silent. “I didn’t want them to die!” Ben repeated emphatically. “I told Doug just to keep quiet and let me deal with things, but he was angry and out of control and I couldn’t reason with him.”

“So you had him killed because of your little cocaine industry?”

Ben grabbed for the desk and Curt wondered if he would fall. “How did you know about that?”

“Dad called me right after he found the shipment.”

“That’s impossible. He talked to me after finding it. It wasn’t long after that, that he took off and…”

“And crashed. Dying a painful death, knowing that he had been betrayed by his best friend. Knowing that he couldn’t save the life of his wife and daughter because he’d seen too much.” Curt’s voice was deadly calm. “Only CJ lived. Your people hadn’t counted on that.”

“No one was supposed to die, Curt. Your father was the best at flying. It was only a warning. They just wanted Doug to keep quiet about the drugs.”

“Who wanted him quiet, Ben?”

Ben retook his seat and loosened his necktie. “Look, I’ll explain everything, but you have to believe me. I never wanted your family hurt. I’ve carried this around inside for years, all because I couldn’t keep it from happening.”

“Go on.” Curt still showed no emotion.

“I got O&F into some trouble. I made mistakes in the taxes, and by the time they were brought to my attention, we owed millions in back taxes. Someone came to me and promised to clear it off the books if we would cooperate and help them out in return.”

“Who?”

“McFarland,” Ben said weakly. “McFarland was an attorney on staff. He’s the one who found the problem with the books, and he’s the one who backed me into a corner.”

“McFarland? He seems to be too incompetent to accomplish something like that on his own.”

“I swear it was him, Curt. He told me that if O&F would help him transport his cocaine throughout the U.S. via the air shows, he would fix the books and make sure we wouldn’t be penalized for the mistake. It seemed harmless enough.”

“Harmless?” The first hint of emotion came into Curt’s voice. “Since when has cocaine been harmless?”

“I know how it sounds, Curt, but I was up against the wall. If we’d been found out by the feds, it would have meant an end to the business.”

“Instead, it put an end to my parents’ lives and nearly killed my sister. Ben, please don’t expect me to be civil about this.” Curt rose from the chair and pounded his fists down on the large executive desk. “Please don’t tell me how harmless this was.”

Ben’s eyes welled with tears. “I didn’t think they’d kill him. I just thought they were going to scare him. Believe me, I haven’t had a peaceful moment since it happened. I even tried to get rid of McFarland, but he has me by the neck. If I fire him now, he’ll prove our tax evasion to the feds.”

“You’re pathetic,” Curt said, suddenly knowing all the answers he needed. “I can’t believe you sold my father out that way. You killed him and Mother, just as surely as if you’d put a gun to their heads. And I’ll tell you something else,” Curt paused and straightened. “Dad blamed you. As the plane was going down he said to my mother, ‘He’s done us in.’ CJ remembered it quite vividly. What she didn’t know is that you were the ‘he’ responsible.”

“No!” Ben cried out in such agony that Curt almost regretted his words. “I wasn’t the one. I didn’t make it happen!”

Curt turned to leave, knowing that if he stayed one minute more, he might lose control. “You didn’t stop it, either.”