Читать книгу Runaway Mistress - Робин Карр, Robyn Carr, Robyn Carr - Страница 9

Jennifer watched as Louise Barstow made her way cautiously down the cracked sidewalk, one bent leg at a time, gripping a cane in each gnarled hand to help hold herself upright. She could see that shocking white hair slowly rise and fall with each step Louise took. Clearly it hurt her to walk, but she had told Jennifer that if she didn’t walk as much as possible, bearing the pain of arthritis, she would be bedridden in no time. She rejected the suggestion of a scooter or wheelchair. “I’m degenerating fast enough as it is,” she said. “I’ve seen others my age give in to wheels, and that’s it. They quit walking, and the decline is even faster.”

She did well for an eighty-year-old with severe arthritis. Right beside her, just about as old and slow, was Alice. At fourteen, she was ancient for her breed. Jennifer was amazed by them both and wondered if she would have that kind of fortitude at that age. She wondered if she’d be fortunate enough to even see that age.

Louise was a teacher, a college professor who had driven to Las Vegas and sometimes farther when she was teaching, and Buzz was the only guy in town willing to open at 5:00 a.m. “But I don’t teach anymore,” she had told Jennifer. “At first it was for the pleasure of company in the morning after my husband, Harry, died, then it was for the exercise and finally it became a matter of survival. But I don’t exactly bounce out of bed in the morning anymore.”

Jennifer opened the door when Louise finally arrived. “Good morning, Madam Professor,” she said. Louise’s face brightened immediately and Jennifer knew that she liked being addressed in that way. “Two canes as opposed to the walker—that must mean your arthritis is pretty tame today.”

“Hah. You wish. I’m just especially brave.”

“Ah, I should have known.” She had Alice’s bowl of water in her hand and placed it before her on the sidewalk outside the diner while Louise went inside and got settled.

It was one of the high points of the morning for Jennifer when Louise and Alice arrived. The way the older woman expressed herself—a kind of harsh but kindly manner—was a kick. “You’re a little rough around the edges, aren’t you, Doris?” was one of the first things she’d said to her. And she always asked personal questions that Jennifer skittered around. Direct questions like “Where do you come from and who are your people?”

Jennifer admitted to coming from the Midwest, which was not entirely untrue. Her grandparents lived all their lives in Ohio, even though Jennifer had moved around a lot with her mother. And she said she didn’t have any people, unfortunately.

She got Louise’s tea right away. “Here you go,” she said. “What can we get you for breakfast this morning?”

“I don’t know,” she answered. “I’m not hungry.”

“You will be by the time you start nibbling. Have to keep your strength up.”

“Widows tend to skip meals or eat over the sink. Did you know that, Doris? But not Rose, my next door neighbor. She’s in so much better shape at seventy, and she fixes a proper supper every night and eats it while seated at the table. But then Rose has never been married, and it makes a difference somehow.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know exactly. It’s the having been married that does a lot of us in. As if when the old boy goes, there goes the only excuse we have for fixing a good meal. But you didn’t see me eating over the sink before I was married.” She snorted. “Of course, I was married at seven.”

“Seven? A little young. Were you one of the Travelers?”

“The what?”

“Those gypsies who marry off their girls before they’re out of elementary school. The Travelers.”

“You have a very unique education, Doris. For a biker chick.”

Jennifer laughed. “I like the news magazine shows—like 60 Minutes. Now, how about some eggs and fruit?”

“Fine, then. You’ve been here about a month, haven’t you, Doris?”

“Just about. Want some whole wheat toast?”

“No butter. You must like Boulder City a little or you would’ve moved on. At least to better employment.”

“Come on, Dr. Barstow—I couldn’t ask for more than this!”

Jennifer loved the way Louise’s face brightened whenever she titled her. The first time she did so, Louise told her straight out that it felt rather good to be given that title. After all, she’d come up through the ranks of academia at a time when women were still being admitted with some reluctance.

“Buzz is lucky to have you. You should make him tell you so twice a day.”

“He is as free with praise as with pay,” she said.

Louise continually surprised her. She was so amazingly observant, for one thing. The first time a couple of Boulder City cops came in and Jennifer found her herself ducking their stares, Louise had said, “If you’re going to be so obvious, they’re going to know you don’t want to be recognized. Look ’em in the eye—that’ll fool ’em for sure.”

Taken aback, she had replied, “Are you saying they’re not all that sharp?”

Louise had shrugged. “We have very little for them to do here in Boulder City, Doris.”

Louise had taken to recommending books to Jennifer and every day she went to the library, reading them quickly. In just one month she’d gone through all of Jo-Ann Mapson, Alice Hoffman and Alexander McCall Smith. Louise had speckled some nonfiction in there, as well— Women and the American Experience, for starters. That took Jennifer more than one day to get through.

Jennifer took a dog biscuit outside to Alice, gave her some pets, then returned to the diner to wash her hands. She then delivered the fruit and toast to Louise.

“Doris, I see you’re letting that hair grow in a little. I wondered what color it was. It’s darker than I imagined.”

“It’s darker than I remembered,” Jennifer laughed. “I doubt I’ll let it get any longer than an inch, tops.”

“I just can’t imagine what you were thinking. Egad.”

“I thought it would be quite a statement. Bold. Different.”

Louise lifted her eyebrows questioningly. “Is that a fact?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Well, unfortunately it made you look more like a thug. But this is better, this little bit of hair.” She reached a gnarled hand out and patted Jennifer’s head. “I have to tell you that when you smile, you are transformed. And your smile doesn’t really fit with this look—with the piercings and army clothes. But, I’ve never been very good at fashion.” Then Louise abruptly changed the subject. “Is it too late to make it a vegetable omelet? Egg substitute?”

“Not at all. I told you you’d find your appetite once you got started. I’ll have it right up,” she said, taking the order slip to Adolfo. And then, per her routine, she went back to Louise’s table. “I finished The Seasons Of Women. Do you have another suggestion? I’ll be taking it back to the library this afternoon.”

“Hmm. Have you read Gift from the Sea?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ve always enjoyed reading, but I’ve never been able to do so much. There isn’t much else to do here.”

“We’re a dull lot,” she said.

“Oh, I didn’t mean it to sound that way. There’s no TV where I’m staying and I thought it would be tough, but I like it. It’s a nice change.”

“Change from what?” Louise ventured.

“Someday I’ll tell you all about it, but right now I have to do my chores.” She smiled and got away without telling anything. Again.

Jennifer brought Louise more hot water, then went back outside to check on Alice. She liked to linger there, stroke the old girl’s head and back. Alice would moan appreciatively, thanking her. Satisfied that there was plenty of water and that it was cool enough in the shade of the diner’s awning, she went back inside. As she stood and turned, she caught Louise watching her. Staring at her with a slight frown wrinkling her brow. “I just wanted to be sure Alice was fine. And that she has enough water in the bowl.”

“You like Alice, don’t you?”

“What’s not to like? She’s a perfect dog. And I think that besides you, I’m her favorite.” She grinned again.

“I’ve always had dogs. Sometimes more than one. It was difficult when I traveled more, but I love animals. And it’s my opinion that people who don’t like dogs are coldhearted and impatient. I think that within you beats the heart of a loving woman. Am I right?”

“I hope so, Madam Professor.”

“Do you know I’ve spent my whole life studying women and their issues? I hold a post-graduate degree in women’s studies and there is no woman on earth I don’t find interesting. And you, Doris, are one of the most intriguing.”

“Me? Phooey. If you knew me better, you’d realize I’m very boring. Let me get that omelet for you.”

Jennifer went about the business of refilling the sugar and creamers, sweeping up behind the counter and gathering up the ketchup bottles to consolidate them so they were all full. When her breakfast was done, Louise asked Jennifer if she could take a little break. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”

“Sure,” she said, sitting down across the table from her.

“No. Walk a little way with me. Buzz won’t care too much.”

“Just give me a minute,” she said. She spoke to Buzz, then retrieved her backpack and slipped the straps over her shoulders.

Once outside Louise said, “I don’t know what you have in that backpack, but it never leaves your sight.”

“Well, not exactly. I just don’t leave it behind because… Well, because I travel light, and that means I carry what’s important with me.”

“Are you planning to stay around awhile, Doris?”

She laughed a little, and with it came a little snort. “How could I think of leaving a fantastic job like mine at the Tin Can?” Then she added, “I didn’t think I’d still be here, but I like this little place. I like that there’s almost no nightlife.”

“Odd that a woman your age would be fascinated by that. But if you are planning to stay, I have a proposition for you. I go to England every spring and come back every fall. My son is there. Rudy. I like to be near him, and I get privileges at Oxford as a professor emeritus. I research cultural issues, women’s literature, women’s studies. I’ve been working on a textbook for some time now.”

An unusual sound came out of Jennifer. It was a sigh. A sigh of longing. And her tone of voice softened so hopefully. “Please say you want me to go with you and carry your books.”

“I’m afraid not. However, my usual house-sitter-slash-dog-sitter has disappointed me. She can’t help out this time. You can see that Alice can’t be alone, can’t be kenneled. In fact, it gets harder and harder to leave her. She’s an old woman, is my Alice.”

Jennifer was holding her breath and no doubt Louise could tell. She sensed what was coming and began to desperately pray it could happen. After all, the Sunset Motel wasn’t a place you’d want to stay for too long.

“I could use a house sitter. For five, maybe six months.”

“Me?” she asked tentatively.

“In addition to the house, food, utilities, upkeep and frequent dog walking, I’ll pay you a small stipend.”

“Stipend?” she asked, a little breathless.

“There’s a condition, Doris.” She stopped walking. She looked up at the younger woman. “Yes, you look so much better with hair. Mmm,” she said, clearing her throat. “I’d like you to tell me what you’re hiding.”

Jennifer let out her breath in disappointment, shaking her head in defeat before she even realized her actions were as much as admitting there was something major. “I’m not hiding anything,” she said.

“Oh, yes, you are. I don’t much care what it is, unless you did prison time for ripping off little old ladies.” That brought a slight chuckle from her. Very slight. “I’m an expert on women, Doris, and I know how tough the world can be for some. And I’m an excellent secret keeper. It’s just that this might be too big a mystery for me. Please understand—I can’t leave you with all my worldly goods and my very best friend without knowing why you’re hiding out in Boulder City.”

Jennifer moved her mouth as though she were literally chewing on the question. She decided quickly it would be okay to be honest. Louise was eighty and not very talkative. If there was anyone in this town who could be trusted, it was probably Louise. “If you tell anyone, it could be very, very bad.”

“I have no reason to tell. But I do have a need to know.”

“It was a man. He was violent. He—” She took a deep breath. “He threatened to kill me if I left him.”

“Do you think there’s any chance he could be looking for you?”

“I think there’s every chance—but I think this is the last place he’d look.”

“And why is that, exactly?”

“Because this is such a quiet place. No gambling, no nightlife, not exciting. It’s not what he’d expect of me. He’d think that I’d run off to L.A. or New York City before I’d hunker down in a town full of—” She stopped suddenly.

“Full of little old ladies and their ancient dogs?”

Jennifer bit her lip. “He’d expect me to want more excitement than is found here, Doctor.”

“All right, all right, so there is much more to you than meets the eye. I thought as much. Maybe later you’ll trust me enough to give me a few more details. I might even be able to help at some point. I do have a lot of experience with this sort of thing. I helped open a facility in Las Vegas that’s strictly a women’s and girls’ shelter. Anyone female can get help there, as long as they’re drug free.”

“I’m okay here. For now,” she said, but there was a tentative tone with it. “But what if something… If I have to leave in a hurry? What about Alice?”

“My neighbors will see after her in an emergency. You aren’t using credit cards or making long distance phone calls to friends or family, are you?”

There was a long pause. “No,” she finally said. “I really have no one.” She couldn’t keep the sadness from her voice as she realized that even when she’d had a rich gentleman friend, she had no one. “And I know what I have to do to be invisible.”

“Then you’ll be very hard to track. So? What do you think, Doris? Can you help me out?”

“Yes,” she said, flashing a heartfelt smile. “I could probably do that.”

“That’s good. Maybe you can come over later and look around. I could show you how to work the computer so you can e-mail me. Rose lives on one side and Alex on the other and—“Louise stopped as Jennifer’s expression changed rather suddenly. “What’s the matter, dear?”

“Alex. He looks at me like I’m going to pick his pocket.”

“Ignore him—he’s not always such a crank. Even Alex warms up after a while. And, Rose… Well, I’m not even going to try to explain Rose. But I leave next week. I need someone to watch over Alice and the two of you get on so nicely. So—that’s that. I just can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”

“You’re sure your neighbors will be okay with this?”

“Absolutely. Thank you for taking it on.”

“All right, then,” she said, making an effort to keep the relief and excitement from her voice. “I don’t have anything else going on.”

“Well, isn’t this just my lucky day,” Louise said. “Oh, and Doris? If anyone comes sniffing around the diner, acting like they might be looking for someone like you, don’t smile. That smile of yours is simply unforgettable.”

Louise’s house was a tiny little brick box that she’d owned for thirty years. It was in a row of identical houses offering up varying colors of brick, siding or paint, just around the corner from the park, theater, post office and library. A few blocks farther was the main street and shops that saw more action from the tourist traffic. She’d had a screened back porch added several years ago so she could work there in nice weather, which in Nevada was most of the time. Garages hadn’t come with the houses, but she and her neighbors had added free-standing garages that opened into the alley and gave them easy access to their back doors. Her backyard was small but meticulous, thanks to Alex, who took care of it for her.

Louise sat in the porch at the computer, her reading glasses perched on her nose, a stack of books teetering on the floor next to her chair. She heard the front door open and close. Momentarily Rose stood in the doorway to the porch. “I don’t know why I have an extra key,” she said. “The door is never locked.”

“Neither is yours.”

“I’m getting in the habit of locking up when I go to bed at night. I must do it two or three times a week.”

Rose was taller than Louise, as was just about everyone, and still straight as a poker. Her face was what she liked to call seasoned, her hair a flaming red; she drove all the way into Las Vegas to have it colored every three weeks. Her hips were slim and her teeth strong, straight and white. She’d taken good care of herself and didn’t suffer from any of the degenerative conditions that plagued Louise.

Rose was a perpetual fashion plate. Today she wore a black midi-length skirt and gray snakeskin boots with a slim heel and very pointy toes. A bright orange poncho was draped over her black turtleneck. Amazingly, it did not clash with her teased red hair. Her lips matched the poncho, and gold chains sparkled around her neck and wrists.

Louise lifted her glasses and peered down at Rose’s feet. “How do you walk in those things?”

“They look good, that’s how. Tell me you didn’t go through with it,” Rose demanded. “You didn’t invite that bald-headed creature to stay in your house.”

Louise glanced up over her glasses. “You and Doris will get on very well. It’s obvious she could use the support and counsel of an older woman.” She pulled off her glasses. “And she’s not so bald anymore. She’s got a little hair growing in. She’s actually quite beautiful…except for that ridiculous mannish costume she wears.”

“Phoo,” Rose said. “She’s going to rob you blind and run off in the night.”

“If she runs off in the night, she’ll only take what she can fit in the backpack. She doesn’t even own a car.”

“You have no reason to believe you can trust her.”

“She’s been working for Buzz for weeks, and as generous as he is, he won’t condone any dishonest act. If so much as a quarter were missing, he’d let her go.”

“Phoo.”

Rose turned and left the porch. She was back a second later with a glass of iced tea—she had helped herself from Louise’s refrigerator—then draped herself in the wicker chair opposite Louise’s worktable. Although actually only about five foot four, she always wore heels to give her height, and her slender form made it seem she had very long legs and arms. “What did you tell her?”

“That my usual house sitter was unavailable.”

“But Alex and I keep Alice when you’re gone!”

“Alice will be happier at home. Besides, the girl needs a place for a little while and I’ll feel better knowing she’s here.”

“Utter nonsense. Leave well enough alone.”

“She’s obviously in trouble. And if you dare tell her that I’m doing a good turn, I’ll have your hide.”

“Alex is going to have a fit,” Rose predicted.

“I’ll have a word with him,” she said. But he should mind his own business sometimes. Although, since he probably wouldn’t, Louise figured maybe he could be of help. Louise and Rose had nothing but affection for Alex. He lived on one side of Louise with Rose on the other. Alex was young, thirty-five, and made it his business to look after these little old ladies when he should be spending more energy on beautiful young women. He scolded them for opening the door to strangers, for never locking doors when they left the house, for giving too much information on the phone, for not being more cautious. Rose was right—this was going to bother him. But he’d get over it.

“I was hoping you’d reconsider the trip this year,” Rose said.

“Why would I do that? I love my annual sojourn.”

“It’s getting harder for you, though.”

“Tell me about it. Just thinking about that plane ride makes my joints begin to throb. But I like being near Rudy.”

“That’s just crazy, and at your age,” Rose said shortly. Then, softening her tone, she said, “I just thought that might change, is all. As you got older.”

“It’s a matter of not giving in, dammit. But I admit, it’s hard leaving Alice. I always wonder if she’ll still be around when I get back.”

“I’ll watch. But about this girl…”

“She’s a good girl. Just odd. She’ll be fine.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Well, it’s done. I’m going to give her a debit card for groceries and supplies for household upkeep and set her up to receive one hundred dollars a week.”

“A hundred dollars? Have you lost your mind?”

“Not enough?” Louise asked, thinning eyebrows arched.

“Too much! Way too much! You’re buying her food, paying all the bills, giving her a place rent free….”

“She has to take care of Alice and keep the house in order. It’s a job. People get paid for jobs.”

“Don’t be surprised if you get burned….”

“With you right next door, never giving her a moment’s privacy? You’re right—she could flee in want of a moment’s peace!”

“Ptui,” said Rose.

It was just after lunch when Louise knocked at Alex’s door. He was pulling on a clean shirt as he answered. “Hey, sweetheart. Why didn’t you just call me? I’d have come to you.”

“I had to stretch my legs. I stiffen up in four minutes, I think. Can you get that big suitcase from the garage to the bedroom for me? Tomorrow is soon enough if you’re going somewhere.”

“I’m going to work, but there’s no rush,” he said, buttoning his shirt. “I’ll get it for you before I go.”

“And…I have a house sitter. Doris—the young woman who’s been waiting tables for Buzz for the last month.”

“The girl with the butch haircut and man’s pants?” he asked, frowning. He didn’t wait for an answer—he knew who she was. And he knew Buzz and his proclivity for giving work to down-on-their-luck transients. “What do you know about her?”

“Let’s see. She reads everything I recommend, and quickly. She likes jazz. She’s thinking of getting a mountain bike—she used to love biking. She’s very protective and big sisterish toward Hedda, who could use an ally in her life. And—she adores Alice.” She leaned both hands heavily on her cane. “Think of her as my houseguest and behave yourself.”

He laughed, shoving his shirttail into his pants. “You don’t have to worry that I’ll come on to her,” he said. He went to the breakfast bar to get his wallet and attach his gun to his belt. Alex was a Metro police detective in Las Vegas.

“No, I’m worried that you’ll try to investigate her and I just want you to know I would consider that extremely rude.”

“I would only do that if I thought there was a reason….”

“As long as you don’t think Doris living in my house is a reason. Am I clear?”

He grinned handsomely. “What makes you think you can push me around so much?”

“Old age.”

He put an arm around her. “Don’t worry—I’ll be nice to your house sitter. I’ll give her a wide berth. Now, let’s get the big suitcase before I leave.”

“Don’t you usually work days?” she asked.

“My hours have been all over the place lately. We’ve had a rash of home invasions in the city and I’m going to sit a stakeout with our target team. We think we know who it is, it’s just a matter of catching them.”

Louise shuddered. “I’m so glad to be living here,” she said. “Now, you be very careful, young man.”

“Always, my love.” He kissed the top of her head.

Jennifer did as much as she could to make herself indispensable to Buzz and Adolfo in the mornings. Then, with most of the chores done by early afternoon, when Hedda came on, the girl had more time to spend on homework.

Buzz and Adolfo had become more like family to her in one month than Nick Noble had in two years, and she was very grateful for them. She cleaned the bathroom, took out the trash, washed up the dishes and pots, swept the walk in front of the diner. She shined the glass, polished the stainless steel, watered the plants and dusted all the old black-and-white photos of Las Vegas celebrities that hung on the walls. This place, the diner and the town, was like a cocoon to her, sheltering her from her past and her future. As long as she was right here, she lived in the moment, and the moment, in all its simplicity, was lovely.

If she weren’t so afraid of Nick, she’d almost like to thank him. For the first time in ten years the pressure to be perfect was off. Her constant grip on control was unnecessary—she was loose in this body without all the trimming and constant upkeep. All she had to do was relax into this modest role and enjoy her own feelings for once. There was such amazing freedom in this.

She was beginning to have relationships, shallow though they might be. Still, it was far more than she had indulged in while she was trying to keep some man interested.

From here she could look back over some of her choices. Being the girlfriend of rich older men had seemed like a safe and practical way to spend some time, but suddenly ten years had flown by. She’d gone from nineteen to thirty in a flash, hardly feeling the passage of time. The only way in which she acknowledged aging at all was with the clear realization that she wouldn’t be young and beautiful forever, and she would have to plan her next career path with no time to spare.

Now it amazed her that she had fooled herself into believing she could be satisfied with that. Catering to someone else’s needs, leaving her own for later, in order to live a material life and avoid the risk of falling in love and having her heart broken? What was that about? Her idea of security was suddenly skewed, for what good were her savings and investments if her life was in danger?

Yet, danger or not, here she was now, a woman alone with simple needs and experiencing entirely new feelings. It verged on happiness. How, she asked herself, had she managed to get to be thirty years old before figuring that out?

While Louise prepared to leave the country, Jennifer went to her house a few times to become familiarized with the place, to get instructions on the upkeep, the bills, the bank, the care of the dog and, most important, the computer. Through that process two things became glaringly obvious. She wondered how Louise, at her age and infirmity, could manage the kind of trip she was undertaking. And second, she realized she would miss her. Jennifer had begun to look forward to her breakfast companion and had come to think of her as a friend, even if they didn’t share any personal information.

“I’m taking my laptop,” Louise said. “So we can e-mail all the time. I will never be far away with that convenience.”

Jennifer’s big brown eyes brightened. “It will be almost like having you here.”

“Better,” she said. “I don’t complain about my joints so much in e-mail.”

Then the day came for Louise to leave. The cab that would take her to the airport pulled up in front of the diner and Jennifer went out to say goodbye. “Alice is at home, moping. She started acting injured and dejected when she saw the suitcases come out two days ago, and now she’s in a full-blown depression. Don’t be too concerned if she picks at her food for a couple of days. It’s her way of letting us know she has strong opinions about being left behind.”

“I’ll brush her and take her to the park.”

“Try to enjoy this respite, Doris. Make a study of it. Keep a journal or something.”

“Sure, Professor. Travel safely.”

“I’ll see you again soon,” Louise said. And Jennifer, without planning to, lunged into the cab and embraced the old woman, shocking her.

“Oh! My!” she exclaimed. And then, recovering from the surprise, she put her arms around Jennifer and patted her back. “You’ll have a good six months. Ignore Alex’s pique and take Rose with a grain of salt.”

Later that day, as she walked to Louise’s little brick house, she strolled down the street at a slow, lazy pace while inside her heart was leaping, and the temptation was strong to break into a run. Right after giving Alice some attention, she was going to take a good, long bath. She’d limited herself to showers at the motel, afraid of what germs might be lurking in the forty-year-old porcelain tub.

She was entering Louise’s house now with a whole new set of senses, as if seeing it for the first time. New sight, new smell, new touch. She stuck the key into the front door, but it was unlocked. That would have to change. As she entered, Alice slowly rose from her pallet by the hearth, but she hung her head and put her ears back as if to say, Do you see this? I’ve been left again.

“Hey, girlfriend. Don’t worry—she’ll be back before you know it.”

Alice lay back down, her snoot flush with the floor between her paws, her pathetic eyes glancing upward.

Jennifer lifted the leash off the hook by the door. “Come on, no pouting. Let’s take a little walk so you can get an attitude adjustment. Then I’ll settle in.”

Alice rose slowly to her feet but still hung her head dejectedly as she went to Jennifer.

“Oh, brother,” Jennifer said to her. “What a drama queen. Come on, let’s go. Enough self-pity.”

It took Alice at least a block to get in the mood, after which she had a rather nice, though brief, twirl around the park. People who obviously knew Louise and Alice greeted them. “Louise gone off to London, has she?” said a man who was walking a terrier. He gave Alice a pat. “I’m Pat from the grocery. Holler if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” she said. “Doris. From the diner.”

“Welcome aboard.”

There were three others she passed by—each said hello to Alice, to her, and each one seemed to realize that if someone else was walking the dog, Louise must be gone for the summer.

Just a little exercise and fresh air seemed to do wonders for Alice’s mood, but Jennifer was chomping at the bit to get home, home, to get settled. And when they did get back, Alice’s tail was wagging again and she helped herself to some of her food.

“See? I knew you could adopt a positive attitude if you tried.”

The living room embraced Jennifer. The hardwood floor, red brick fireplace, deep sofa and overstuffed chairs with ottomans, worn in just the right places. And books. The wall upon which the hearth stood had built-in shelves on each side, filled with books. She went to the shelf to look at the titles and only then did she notice that the dust on the shelf was thick. She ran her fingertips along the shelf and then examined them.

Louise’s house was cozy, if a little old-fashioned. And though she had been there a couple of times last week to learn the computer, she hadn’t really looked around. The floral sofa and rose-colored chairs were sporting a good bit of dog hair, and now that she thought about it, it was a little on the musty side.

Well, it stood to reason—Louise was eighty. Not only would her eyesight probably be a bit challenged, but she was simply too arthritic for heavy cleaning. Jennifer dug under the kitchen sink and came up with cleaning supplies—dusting rags, scouring powder, glass cleaner. She got busy at once, starting in the living room. There was an old radio on the bookshelf, and as she dusted around it, she turned it on. Frank Sinatra was singing, so she turned the dial—but Frank just kept at it. Apparently the dial was broken, and if she was going to listen to that radio, she was going to hear that kind of music.

She’d rather it was winter, with some cold weather, so she could light the fire and the lamp, grab a book and a soda and never leave. This place felt like a nest for the restless bird. Instead, she opened some windows to clear out the musty smell. She found the vacuum cleaner in the second bedroom closet, and fortunately there were new bags on the shelf.

From just inside the front door, the dining room was to the left, living room to the right, the screened-in porch through the french doors straight ahead. Louise had had the kitchen remodeled, making it the most modern room in the house. And it was used very little, so it wasn’t dirty, but Alice’s coat seemed to line the floor. The granite countertops needed a good scouring, the cupboard had glass doors that she happily polished, and she brought a high sheen to the stainless-steel appliances. She moved the kitchen table to give the floor a serious scrubbing, and before long she noticed that while she’d been cleaning her heart out, the day had grown long and the sun was beginning to lower in the sky. With the windows open, it was getting cold, and she shivered as she went to close them.

But she was so happy! It felt so wonderful to put a house right—a house she was going to occupy for up to six months. And she didn’t have to think about what she could do or wear or say to make a man happy; she only had to think about what would satisfy her.

There was a note on the counter beside the phone with all the numbers she would need and instructions to “take the master bedroom, please.” This was all typed; Louise’s hands were not agile enough to write legibly with a pen.

She grabbed her backpack and went to the bedroom, where she found a basket on the bed with a note on it. “Pamper yourself,” it read. In the basket was shampoo, cream rinse, lotion, soap, shower gel, bubble bath, a new brush and comb, toothbrush and paste, disposable razors and a manicure set. She lifted the shampoo and gave a huff of laughter. She sat down on the bed and saw her face in the dresser mirror. It was the face of Jenny at the age of fourteen—no makeup, lips deflated by the absence of collagen, a dark cap of hair covering her scalp and eyebrows grown out and shapeless from lack of tweezing. With her hair a mere buzz cut, her brown eyes looked large and dark.

Who would have believed the most perfect disguise would be her natural self?

There was one change she’d made since adolescence that she intended to take to the grave—the veneers on her teeth. If she were really going to go underground, she could probably pop off those veneers and go back to the old mouth.

But no. Enough was enough.

She felt the ache creep into her throat. She had spent so much energy on self-beautification, seeing it as necessary to her lifestyle, and her lifestyle necessary to survival. Yet here she was in her manly pants and shirts, so comfortable but so unattractive. Jennifer, she felt, was gone. As she looked at this new face, even though she remembered it from her youth, she wasn’t entirely sure who she was.

Don’t cry. You don’t have to stay exactly like this. This is only temporary. Until you figure out what to do.

All that was left of her former self, the self she’d worked so hard to create, was the jewelry and money in her backpack. She could have sold the two rings and tennis bracelet, but if Nick was determined to find her, they could be traced, so she simply tucked them into the backpack for safekeeping—for emergencies. She still had some money left, two jobs and very modest needs.

It had been weeks since she’d walked out of the hotel suite. A couple of phone calls from phones with blocked lines revealed that Barbara Noble was said to be living in the Nobles’ Caribbean estate. Apparently no one was suspicious of any crime. There had only been that one sighting of an MGM limo—with no evidence it bore Nick or his thugs. Could it be they’d all gone back to Florida and just assumed Jennifer would never dare tell a thing?

Possible, she decided. Only time would tell. And that time she would spend in Louise’s comfy house. A very nice place to hide.

She gave the bathroom a quick, efficient scrubbing, then kicked off her shoes, let her khaki pants drop to the floor and stripped off the baggy shirt. While the tub filled with hot, soapy water, she looked at herself in the mirror. Wouldn’t people be surprised to know that under the baggy pants and men’s shirts was a body like this—high breasts, flat tummy, round butt, long, lean, shapely legs. She preened a bit, one arm over her head, the other stretched behind her back. Then she reversed her pirouette. Something else was growing in—pubic hair. She had endured years of waxing in what was called a Brazilian—total hair removal. Nick had no idea about her natural hair color.