Day Three (Thursday)
Thursday morning the guest count had climbed to three hundred and twenty-seven.
Anne Keller called, then headed to the church for some more practice shots.
Yvette and Lily, Kay and Becky gathered over pastries and coffee in Robert's apartment. Lettie had let them in; Robert was not there, and Becky wisely did not mention that his car had been parked behind her building all night.
They reviewed the lists. They called the caterers. They checked Robert's answering machine, and the count climbed five more. They took turns on the phone, calling everyone to confirm arrangements. Kay wanted to call Shelly about the dress, and Lily talked her out of it.
They finished the little packets of Jordan almonds. "I don't suppose," Kay mused, "there's any point in making a seating chart."
"Absolutely none," Lily answered.
They had lunch at the Roosevelt, for free, and spoke again to the catering manager. Then they went north to hear the Marty Usher Band rehearse. They were old men, all of them over seventy, and they practiced in a sweltering hot sway-backed garage behind the sax player's brother's house. They played wonderfully.
"I think," Kay said carefully, "we may actually pull this off."
"Never a doubt in my mind," Lily answered.
"Well, that's one of us," Yvette kidded. "Frankly, I didn't think you had a chance in hell."
"There's still time for things to go wrong," Lily said practically. And then, "Becky, you okay?"
The bride was dead-pale. "I-I'm okay."
"You look sick," Kay insisted.
"I'm fine. It's just the heat."
"Let's get in the car," Lily suggested. "I'll crank the air."
Becky climbed into the back seat with Kay. She leaned back, her eyes closed. "We don't have time for you to get sick," Kay snapped.
"I-I'm not sick. I just didn't sleep very well."
From the front, Yvette said, "Maybe you need to go home and rest. We can take care of the rest of the details for the day."
Becky said, very softly, "Okay."
Lily turned the air conditioner up full blast. There was a whiff of hot, and then delicious cool filled the car.
Kay shook her head. "That's all we need," she said under her breath. "A bride with the vapors." Louder, she said, "I think we should drive out and see how the dress is coming along."
"No," Lily said firmly. "Leave Shelly alone. She'll call us if she needs help. Otherwise we're just a distraction."
"I hope you're right."
There was a bit of silence as Lily drove out of the neighborhood and onto the freeway. Mid-day traffic was moving at a decent clip, for the city.
"Lunch was good," Yvette said into the silence. "I think the dinner will be fine."
"I wish it didn't have to be a buffet," Kay complained. "They always seem so informal. Waiting in line to fill your plate. It's more like a picnic than a wedding."
No one bothered to answer.
Lily glanced over her shoulder, not at Kay but at oncoming traffic. She slid the Mercedes over one lane and accelerated.
"I'm still worried about the dress," Kay persisted. "What if she can't get it done by then? There's no time to get another dress now. Of course, thank God she's an off-the-rack size, but it would never fit quite right. I just think we really should consider looking at our options. We need a professional to do this work."
The car fell silent. Becky sat up suddenly.
Yvette waited for Lily to answer the renewed complaint, but the driver seemed distracted with the light traffic.
"I said, I think we should take the dress to a professional," Kay repeated.
"Uh-huh," Lily answered absently. Her attention was largely focused on her rear-view mirror. She glanced over her shoulder again, then unexpectedly threw the agile car into the next lane.
Becky hissed in sudden alarm. In the mirror, her eyes met Lily's. The driver nodded reassuringly. "I know, sweetie. I'm on it."
"On what?" Kay demanded.
Lily changed lanes again. Then, without warning, she plunged down the off-ramp.
"What in God's name are you doing?" Kay demanded. "This isn't the right way. I thought you knew your way around town. Get back on the freeway, this will take forever."
In the front seat, Yvette noticed the spy's hand opening the center console and bringing out a small object. Her hand concealed it, but Yvette needed only a glimpse of black to know what it was. "Vous ne pouvez pas jamais enlever les gouttes de sang sur la siege de cuir, sais toi," You'll never get the blood stains out of these seats, you know. she warned quietly.
Lily shrugged. "Il est possible de remplacer les sieges , sais toi," Seats can be replaced, you know she muttered back as she tucked the gun under her leg on the seat. She turned right at the corner with barely a pause for the red light, again causing traffic behind her to snarl.
"All right, young lady, you stop this car this instant. I don't know what's gotten in to you, but you're going to get us all killed …"
Lily said, "Yvette, put your visor down and check your lipstick."
"I'm not wearing any."
Lily glanced at her. "Yvette, honey, try to keep up. Put the visor down." She glanced again at her rear view mirror and frowned.
As she lowered the mirror and checked her non-existent make-up, Yvette saw the beige station wagon and finally caught on. "Oh."
"Uh-huh." Lily opened the center console again and pushed a button. There was the buzz of a dial tone over the speaker phone.
"What in God's name is going on?" Kay demanded.
Lily pressed a second button, and without pause there was a brisk woman's voice. "Operations."
"Romanov," Lily announced clearly, both hands back on the wheel. "I have a 528 in the city."
"Hold please."
"What are you doing?" Kay demanded. "What's a 528, who are you calling …" She finally looked at the mirror over Yvette's shoulder. "Who's following us?" She twisted to look out the rear window.
"Please don't do that," Lily snapped.
Kay turned back around. "Who is that? Why are they following us? Damn it, every time I let you people get involved in something, it turns out to be dangerous."
"You people?" Lily said, very softly.
The phone cracked with a man's voice. "Romanov? Where are you?"
She reported their location, their direction, and described the car behind them, with as few words as possible.
"I'm on it," the man said. "Are you alone?"
"No. I have Robert McCall's daughter and ex-wife, and his son's fiancée with me."
"Ahh … understood." There was a brief silence. "Continue your direction. Hold for Control."
Lily nodded thoughtfully. She changed lanes again, this time signaling as she did so. All four women watched the mirrors as the tan wagon changed with them.
There was an interminable thirty seconds of silence.
"He's not after you," Becky announced quietly.
Lily met her eyes in the mirror. "We'll see."
"Well who else would they be after?" Kay demanded. "Unless one of you has an identity I don't know about."
Control's voice cracked over the speaker phone. "Report."
"Single tail," Romanov answered. "Single male visible. Very amateur. Very little attempt at concealment. No attempt to impede."
"Any guesses?"
"Not a one," Lily answered.
"Intercept en route," the first man said. "Maintain direction."
Lily nodded grimly and drove on.
"I just do not understand," Kay said. "I thought you were undercover."
"Covers break," Lily answered tightly. "Don't worry. They'll snag him in a minute." She shrugged. "At least we're close to home."
The first man's voice returned. "Intercept closing now. Right at the next light, please."
"Thank you so much." She turned the car almost gently down the narrow side street and eased it past the black van parked at the curb. As soon as she was past, the van pulled out, cutting off the station wagon. Lily kept going, turned back onto the main street at the end of the block. In the mirrors, they watched the van stop and Mickey Kostmayer and four others pile out.
"Intercept complete," Romanov reported.
"Good work."
"Where do you want us?"
"What was your original destination?"
"McCall's apartment."
"We'll debrief there. Control out."
Lily clicked the phone off and closed the console. "Well. That was exciting," she said dryly.
"Good Lord, Becky, pull yourself together," Kay said.
Lily looked in the mirror again. In the back seat, Becky Baker was weeping.
"I swear to you, Robert, I wish you'd never gotten involved with these people. And I certainly wish you'd never gotten me and your son involved."
McCall ignored her. He was more interested in the fact that Lily shot the older woman a look and then stalked out of the room. Anger he would have understood – and fully sympathized with. Lily was, after all, one of 'those people' that Kay was talking about. But the look had been, for one bare instant, one of pain.
"It may be absolutely nothing," Robert countered gently. He spoke as much for Becky's benefit as for Kay's. "This man may have, I don't know, seen you in the mall and thought one of you was attractive. He may have wanted to tell you you had a taillight out."
Kay glowered at him. "You know that's not true. This has something to do with her."
Lily was in the study, looking out the back window, and if she heard Kay, she ignored her.
"Perhaps," Robert allowed. "We'll see what Control is able to learn. But in the meantime, you are here and you are safe."
"Well, yes, but we have a million things to get done still. Being chased by some spy was not on the schedule."
McCall felt the rising impulse to scream at her. He bit it back. It wouldn't help. Lily was hurt and withdrawn, Kay was being Kay, but it was Becky who most concerned him. The bride-to-be was sitting in the corner of the couch, precisely where Lily had deposited her. Her arms were wrapped around her chest as if she were cold, her chin tucked down, her shoulders hunched. She had not spoken.
He glanced desperately to Yvette. She was the only one who did not seem unduly affected by the incident. And she was her mother's daughter; she rose to the occasion with magnificent practicality. "Well, since we're stuck here for a while, why don't we review the list, see what we can do from here while we wait?" she said calmly.
Kay threw her hands up. "We might as well."
Something out the window had caught Lily's attention. "Control's here."
McCall nodded. It had only been twenty minutes since the women had arrived. He waited a moment, then went and opened the front door. "What's happened?" he demanded, before Control was even in.
"Nothing to worry about," Control assured him. He glanced around the room, and Robert noted with some concern that his gaze fell last on Becky and stayed there.
"We were followed half-way across the city," Kay snapped. "That certainly is something to worry about."
"You were never in any danger," Control said calmly. "The gentleman following you did not intend to harm you in any way."
"Who was he?" Lily asked.
"His name is Martin Lynch. He's a private detective from Detroit."
Becky groaned out loud.
"A private detective?" Kay demanded, incredulous. "What does he want?"
"He's looking for Becky."
"What? Why?" Robert demanded. Sick dread formed in the pit of his stomach. Someone from Michigan looking for Becky simply could not be good. "What does he want with her?"
The girl didn't move. "Why?" she asked.
Slowly, careful not to startle her, Control sat down beside her on the couch. He glanced at Kay, at Robert. But there was no hope of getting the woman out of the room. "Lawrence Masters is dead," he said quietly.
Becky nodded, still not looking at him. "He died last year."
"His estate," Control explained. "He had a number of assets, including several life insurance policies." He hesitated. "You were named the beneficiary of one."
"What?" Kay said. "Who is this man? Why is he leaving you money?"
Becky simply shuddered.
"Lynch was hired by the insurance company to find you," Control continued, ignoring Kay. "He was bringing you this." He reached into his jacket and brought out an envelope.
The girl finally stirred. She looked at the envelope, then at Control, then at the envelope again.
"It's a check for a hundred thousand dollars," he finished.
"Oh, my God," Kay muttered.
Yvette came to her father's shoulder, touched his arm questioningly. She was intuitive enough to know that this was somehow not good news. He patted her hand, promising an explanation later.
"We've taken care of all the necessary documents for Mr. Lynch," Control said quietly. "And he will not repeat where he found you to anyone in Michigan."
"Th-th-thank you," Becky stammered quietly. She still had not touched the envelope; she looked at it as if it were a live scorpion in his hand. "I can't …"
"Of course you can," Kay said. "This is wonderful. Think of all the opportunities this gives you."
Becky began to cry again. "I can't …"
Control put his hand on her shoulder. "We'll let Robert hold this until you decide what to do with it, all right?"
She nodded miserably. "I can't …"
"I know."
"I do not understand why there's any decision to be made," Kay said. "Was this man your family? Your friend? He left the money to you, he clearly wanted you to have it …"
Becky simply sobbed.
Lily moved suddenly to Becky's other side, touched her shoulder. "Do you want to go?"
"G-go?" Becky asked, bewildered. "Go where?"
"Anywhere," Lily answered. "Away from here. Somewhere you can breathe. Just go."
"You can't just go," Kay protested. "We have a million things to do still, we're already way off schedule …"
But Becky was staring at the agent. "Go?" she repeated hopefully.
"Let's go." Lily hauled the girl to her feet. She had her car keys in her hand; the purses were by the door. "We'll call you," Lily promised in Robert's general direction, and then the door was closing behind them.
"What in the world?" Kay demanded. "Of all the irresponsible … we have a million things to do, she can't just … of all the … Robert, can't you …"
"Let them go," Robert said firmly.
"But they can't just …"
"Kay! There are things going on here that you have no idea about. Let them go!"
"Well!" Kay literally stomped into the den.
Control rolled easily to his feet. "I'm sorry, Robert."
McCall shook his head. "She already knew something was in the wind." He took the envelope thoughtfully. "I'll deal with Kay. Somehow."
"Is somebody going to tell me what's going on?" Yvette said hopefully.
"I'll tell you what I can," Robert promised. He shook his head. "She didn't need this right now."
"She'll be okay," Control promised. "With Lily."
"Oh, yes," McCall agreed. "I can't imagine anyone she'd be better off with." He meant it, absolutely. But his heart with still sick with grief for the young woman who was already the daughter of his heart.
They were on the freeway again. The car was safe; the leather seat wrapped around her like a hug. Lily's presence, her calm, her lack of questions, further calmed Becky. Her vision had come true, with a vengeance, but at least she knew now what it was. It was less frightening than when it had been unknown – but it hurt far more.
"Where are we going?" Becky finally asked.
"Anywhere you want to go."
"I don't know where I want to go."
Lily nodded. "I have a friend who has a cabin in the country. Good place to think."
"He won't mind?"
"I'm sure he won't."
They fell silent again. The Mercedes purred past other traffic.
A hundred thousand dollars, Becky thought, over and over. Was that the going rate these days? She hadn't thought she was still so angry. She thought she'd forgiven him. But a hundred thousand dollars. Was that enough to calm his conscience?
No. He was dead. And the only thing that had calmed his conscience was her forgiveness. The money was just money. Just an afterthought.
Wasn't it?
She thought it around in circles a dozen times.
They were leaving the city. Becky became aware of the woman beside her again. How long had she been silent? It seemed like a very long time. But no questions. Not a single one. "You know about it, don't you? About Masters?"
Lily glanced at her. "I know enough."
Becky blushed deeply. Bad enough that it had happened. Worse that everyone around her knew she'd been raped by her pastor. And now he wanted to pay her off with a hundred thousand dollars. She had not wanted anyone to know. Scott, Robert, they needed to know. But the rest …
And now Kay would have to know, too.
"When I was ten," Lily said unexpectedly, "my father gambled my virginity to his friends in a poker game and lost."
The air flew out of Becky's lungs as if she'd been punched in the gut. "Wh-what?"
"You heard me," the other woman said tightly. "We are not going to talk about it. But don't think you're all alone."
Becky could feel her suddenly. Lily, uncovered. Black terror and orange-blue fireballs of rage and hiding deep in the cold, safe but so very alone. "Oh my God."
Just as suddenly, the feeling was gone. Lily had wrapped her emotions up tight again. "I don't think God had anything to do with it. Either time."
Becky looked out the window, fighting for breath. It was horrible that her friend's confession made her feel better. Misery loves company, but she felt bad for taking comfort in Lily's pain. And the absolute fury of Lily's feelings was terrifying. When she was ten, she'd said, and after all these years she still carried such rage. Becky shook her head. No matter how bad things were, there was always someone worse off than you.
Except that Lily neither wanted nor needed her pity. Lily did just fine all by herself.
At least I have Scott, Becky thought.
Then she was crying.
"What?" Lily asked quietly.
"S-scott. I don't know how to … I-I can't … I d-don't …" She took a big gulp and tried to calm herself. "I don't know what to do now."
"You don't have to decide everything at once," Lily answered. "Break it down into bite sizes. Do you want to see Scott?"
"Yes."
"Do you want to have him come to the cabin? Away from Kay?"
"Yes. B-but the wedding, the pl-pl-plans …"
""One thing at a time," Lily repeated firmly. "Scott at the cabin. Then you can talk it out, figure out what you want to do. Go ahead with the wedding or postpone it, it's up to you."
"Kay will have a fit."
"Fuck her."
Against her will and through her misery, Becky chuckled. "You really hate her, don't you?"
"You people," Lily quoted grimly. "If she says 'you people' one more time I swear to God I'm going to kill her."
"Oh."
The agent glanced at her. "Sorry."
Becky shrugged. "I'm not sure I'd try to stop you. She makes me feel like … I'm too common for her."
"Cracker trash," Lily muttered. "Anyhow, don't worry about her. Whatever you decide, Robert will make her deal with it. Just do what's best for you."
Becky sniffed. "Thank you."
"Hey, us low-lifes gotta stick together."
Scott came back from rehearsal just after eight. He was visibly tired, his face pale, dark circles under his eyes and a bag of ice cubes loosely in his left hand. He looked around his father's living room, noted the solemn silence of his sister and father, the silent anger of his mother. "Where's Becky?"
Robert stood up and carried the envelope to him as if it held a cancer. "This was delivered this afternoon," he said grimly.
Scott glanced at the contents and understood immediately. "Damn it. Where's Becky?"
"She's run off with that woman," Kay snapped. "We have a million things to do and she just …"
"Mother!" He turned to Robert. "She's with Lily?"
"Yes. She's very upset, of course, but she's safe."
Scott waved the check absently. "How did they find her?"
"The insurance company hired a private detective."
"Why did they need to hire a private detective?" Kay demanded. "And why should she be so hard to find? What is she, some kind of criminal?"
"No," Scott said.
"All right. That's enough. All these mysteries and secrets – I demand to know what's going on, right now. And Robert, if this woman is any danger to my son and you haven't told me …"
"Mother, shut up!"
Kay took a shocked breath. "You can't talk to me that way, young man. How dare you!"
Scott ignored her and turned back to Robert. "Where's the detective now?"
"He's been taken care of. Control handled it. He won't bother her again, and he won't tell anyone where he found her."
"You make it sound like Control had him killed," Kay accused.
"I don't care if he did," Scott snapped. "Becky's with Lily?"
"Yes."
"She's perfectly fine," Kay snapped back. "She's hysterical, but she's fine. Now I want some answers, and I want them right now. What kind of irresponsible woman are you marrying here, Scott? Because from what I've seen today she's unbalanced. She's not stable at all. Someone gives her a pile of money and she's crying like it's the end of the world …"
"Mother. Stop it."
"You tell me the truth," Kay demanded. "You tell me right now or so help me …"
"What?" Scott demanded. "So help you what? You'll never speak to us again? Fine. Do it. I don't care. You don't know anything about Becky, you don't know what this check means, who this man was, and all you can think about is how it's going to affect your stupid buffet dinner and whether we re-use flowers at the church. You don't know anything!"
"How dare you!"
And then Kay did what she'd always done when confronted with an angry man: She turned to Robert. "Are you going to let him talk to me like that?"
McCall folded his arms. "Yes."
She spun on her son again. "After all I've done for you. Put my whole life on hold to arrange this wedding for you, even though I really do not approve of this woman …"
"I didn't ask you to approve! And I didn't ask you to plan this wedding. You think I want all this? All these people I barely know? All I wanted was to marry the woman I love and leave the country. You're the one who insisted on, on table favors."
"If you really felt that way you should have said something …"
"I would have, mother, except that Becky – that woman you really do not approve of – said that she wanted you to have whatever you wanted. You don't even know her. You've never even tried to know her. You just decided that she wasn't our kind and turned your back on her. Just what the hell do you think our kind is, anyhow?"
"Scott, I will not be treated this way …"
"You won't be treated this way? How do you think you've treated her?"
"I've heard enough," Kay said. She gathered her purse and stalked towards the door. "I'm leaving."
"Good," Scott snarled. "Fine. Go. That's what you always do, isn't it? The minute things get tough, the minute they don't go your way, you bail. You're going to bail on me and Becky exactly like you bailed on Dad."
Robert stirred. "Scott."
"It's true, isn't it? She had this perfect idea of what a family should be, and when you didn't measure up to it she bailed. Just like this wedding. If it isn't exactly what she thinks a wedding should be, she's just going to walk out."
Kay began to cry. "I can't believe you'd talk to me that way. I just … I just can't." She stalked out, slamming the door behind her.
With the object of his fury gone, Scott suddenly seemed smaller. He put his hand to his face. "Dad … I have to go find Becky."
"Wait," Robert advised calmly. "They'll call."
"But Dad …"
"Wait."
The young man made a fist of his already-sore hand and slammed it against the wall.
At the intersection was a small gas station and grocery store. Lily slung the Mercedes into a spot next to a pick-up truck with severe rust cancer. She opened the console and dialed swiftly. In a moment, she said, "Robert, it's me."
Becky found a tissue in her purse and blew her nose. She didn't even know where they were. She didn't care. This woman, and Robert, and Scott, they would take care of her. It wasn't the end of the world. It was only a check. A check from a dead man who couldn't hurt her any more.
"We're going," Lily was saying, "to that place where you and I first met." She nodded her satisfaction at Robert's reply. "That's it. Can you bring Scott out?" There was a bit more discussion, and then she put the phone down. "The dragon queen is having a snit," she announced with satisfaction. "Come on, we'll get some grub."
They went inside and got eggs and milk and bread. "It's pretty well stocked with staples," Lily advised. "And we're only ten, fifteen miles away, if you decide to stay on a while."
Becky nodded. She couldn't think about food, or meals. She didn't protest when the older woman threw a carton of ice cream into the battered plastic basket. She didn't protest the wine, either.
She did protest when Lily paid for it all. "I have money," she said, fumbling for her purse.
"Phooey," Lily replied. "My cabin, my treat."
They got back in the car. "I thought you said the cabin belonged to a friend."
Lily glanced at her. "A very close friend."
"Oh."
They were five minutes down the road before she spoke again. "Would you keep it? The money?"
Lily didn't hesitate. "Absolutely."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"But …" Becky paused, looked out her window. There was nothing but trees on both sides of the road. "It feels like I'm being paid for … for …sex. It feels like I'm letting him pay me for … like that's supposed to make it all right. That's just stupid, isn't it?"
"If that's how you feel, it isn't stupid," Lily answered. "If you don't want the money, don't take it. Give it to a charity. Give it to Robert, I'm sure he could get it to someone who really needs it. Don't give it back to the insurance company, though, okay?"
"Okay."
The numbers seven-nine-five-four hit Becky like a brick. She used to get flashes like that on the lottery, but this was different. This was rage. Lily's numbers. It left her breathless. Then it was gone.
"Or you could use it to buy back some dreams," Lily said quietly.
"Dreams?"
The older woman shook her head. "It's none of my business."
"I asked for your opinion."
Perhaps five miles passed while Lily contemplated her next words. "It's not the sex. That was bad enough. But he took away your dreams."
"I didn't have any dreams," Becky answered. "I was just a kid, I didn't know what I wanted."
"You had … expectations. Things you had a right to. Christmas mornings with your family. The prom. Learning to drive. Graduation. Birthdays. All those things that should have been yours, all the steps of growing up. Those things he took away."
Becky nodded. Tears slid down her face, a blend of grief and relief that someone else finally understood.
"If you keep this money," Lily continued, "you can use it to buy a dream, or two. Not the ones he took. Those are gone. But something new. A start on your own restaurant. Or that house with the picket fence. Or a coffee maker that's too extravagant to justify. Or … hell, I don't even know what you want. And maybe you don't, either. But whatever it is, when you find it, if that money makes it possible for you to have it, when you couldn't have before …" She shook her head. "I don't know, Becky. It's up to you."
Becky wiped her eyes. "I could just … put it away."
"Yes."
"Scott would worry a lot less, if we had some savings."
"Scott would not want you to keep it because of him."
"No. Not for him. But for us."
Lily nodded thoughtfully. "It's up to you."
She turned off the main road and onto a single-lane dirt driveway. It turned sharply around the trees and climbed steeply to a clearing at the top of the hill. At the back of the clearing, overlooking a long valley, stood a large cabin. Lily parked at the front door and climbed out.
Becky followed her to the front door. It was pretty here in the twilight. The trees, the sky, the stunning sunset. Peaceful. A good place to think, Lily had said. It was.
As the older woman opened the door, Becky got another wave off her. It was powerful – Lily didn't seem to have any emotions that weren't – but it wasn't angry. It was love.
Stepping through the door was like stepping into a sanctuary. In an instant, Becky knew everything. The pieces clicked smoothly, softly, and the whole picture came clear at last. "Of course," she said, very softly. The surprise jolted her out of her misery. She wondered why she hadn't seen it before.
"Of course?" Lily asked curiously.
"Of course," Becky repeated. "You're the woman. Control's woman."
On any other day, his father's driving style would have unnerved Scott McCall. There was something about Company people that made them think they were immune to the normal laws of traffic and physics. Every one of them drove like a maniac.
Tonight he didn't care how fast they went, as long as they got there.
"She's all right, Scott," Robert said calmly.
"I know." He made a fist and pounded the side door panel softly. "I just wish … why did this have to happen now? Three more days and we would've been gone. This would have been so much easier with a phone call, after the wedding..." He brought the fist to his mouth and gnawed his knuckles. "No, it wouldn't. I just … damn it, I thought once he was dead we'd be done with this."
Robert nodded. He couldn't think of anything useful to say. Scott didn't seem to require anything. He just needed to rant.
"Mom must be having a cow."
"Hmm, yes."
"We're going to have to tell her the whole story, aren't we?" The fist hit the door again.
Robert shrugged. "We'll let Becky decide that. We may simply tell your mother that it's none of her business."
"Oh, she'll love that."
"Yes, well. You'll be in Europe. It will give her time to accept the reality."
Scott shook his head. "I don't know if I'm going to Europe. I don't know if we're getting married. I don't know anything."
"Do you still know you love her?"
"Absolutely."
"The rest will sort itself out."
Scott knocked his head against the window. "Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it."
The car phone rang and Robert snagged it. "McCall."
There was a woman's voice muffled at the other end, and then Robert chuckled. "All right, love, I'll take care of it. We'll be there in, oh, half an hour."
As he put down the phone, Scott said, "Is Becky all right?"
"She's fine," Robert said. He seemed dryly amused still. "They're at the cabin, getting settled in. They're fine."
"This isn't that crappy cabin we stayed at, is it?"
Robert scowled at him. "The one we blew up? No." Then he relented; his son had a point. Their last cabin adventure had not ended well. "This is a very nice cabin. Very nice indeed. All renovated and updated – a veritable love nest."
"Why is that so funny?" Scott asked irritably.
"Ahh … hmmm." Robert considered the road ahead of them. "Well, you see, an unintended consequence of taking Becky to the cabin is that she's had one of her moments of intuition."
"Huh?"
"She's discovered who the cabin belongs to and why." He considered. "The cabin, technically, belongs to Miss Romanov. She shares it on a fairly regular basis with her lover. And I have been asked to let you in on the secret."
Scott had no patience for the amusement game. "Look, Dad, no offense, but I've got better things to think about than you banging Lily Romanov at this cabin."
"Me?" Robert was genuinely startled. "You think I'm having an affair with her?"
"I knew about it a long time ago, Dad. Look, whatever you do in the privacy of your own home, or cabin, or whatever, I don't want to know."
"That's very understanding of you, Scott. Very mature."
"Are you making fun of me?"
"No," Robert promised. "But I assure you, I have never – what was that elegant phrase you used? – 'banged' that young woman."
"Okay, fine."
"Though I admit is has crossed my mind a time or two. As I'm sure it has yours."
"Dad."
"She's Control's lover, Scott."
"She's what?"
McCall glanced over at him. "She's Control's lover."
"She's sleeping with Control?"
"I must say, I prefer 'sleeping with' over 'banging'," Robert said mildly. "And I suppose they would argue for something like 'involved in a long-term and deeply committed relationship', but sleeping with will cover it for the purposes of this conversation, yes."
"But ... but ... with Control? He's like, twice her age!"
"Yes. So am I, and you were accepting of that." Robert looked at him again. The boy seemed genuinely distressed. "Scott, why are you so upset by this? It barely affects you."
"Doesn't it bother you?" Scott demanded. "She was your lover and then she just bounced to your best friend. How can that not bother you?"
Robert shook his head vigorously. "No, no, no, Scott. She was never my lover."
"Never?"
"Never."
"But then … why is she doing all of this for us? All this wedding stuff, all this other stuff … if she's not your lover …"
"She likes you," McCall answered. "Beyond that – explain to me what motivates any woman at any time. I don't know. "
Scott shook his head. "I don't get it. How could she be with him? He's her boss!"
"Well, that is merely the tip of the impropriety iceberg for the whole arrangement," McCall answered. "And one of several reasons this has to stay completely secret. We're only telling you because Becky already knows. But it must stay absolutely confidential."
"Would they get fired?"
"They'd be killed."
"Killed?"
"Yes."
"Both of them."
"Yes."
Scott sat back. "Wow. I can't … wow." Then, "How long have you know about it?"
"Some years."
"Years."
"Yes. Longer than you've been with Becky."
"And they've kept it a secret. All this time."
"Yes."
Scott shook his head. "I can't believe it." He put his hands over his face for a moment. "Control and Lily. Becky and her past. Mickey. Yvette. You … damn, am I the only one without some deep dark secret in my past?"
Robert chuckled, reached to ruffle his son's hair fondly. "Well, I think we know pretty much everything about your mother."
Scott groaned into his hands. His father chuckled out loud.
It was fully dark by the time they turned off the main road. Scott barely seemed to notice the spray of gravel as his father slung the Jaguar up the narrow drive. He leaned forward, eager for a glimpse of the cabin. He felt, Robert guessed, as if he were very late. Robert felt that way too.
But the cabin at the top of the hill was quiet, the clearing peaceful. The windows were lit with a warm glow. Lily's Mercedes sat like a patient, comforting presence.
McCall parked next to it and stepped out of the car. Scott was already scrambling towards the porch. Robert half-expected Lily to appear from the back with a gun in her hand, as she had the first time he'd met her. If he had known then what an incredibly bad shot she was …
But the door opened and Lily stepped onto the porch with her hands empty.
She stepped to the edge of the porch, which made her tall enough to wrap her arms easily around Scott's shoulders. Robert was too far off to hear what she murmured to him, but his son shuddered at the comfort and gripped her even tighter. Lily stroked his hair and kept talking, in a way that struck Robert as eerily maternal.
At length, he released her. Lily handed him something shiny – car keys, Robert guessed. He crossed the porch to the door, paused and turned back. "Thanks, Dad," he called.
Robert waved. "We'll talk to you tomorrow."
Scott went inside, and Lily came down to the Jaguar. "I'm leaving them the Benz," she said quietly.
Robert nodded. "Thank you. For all of this."
The woman shrugged. There was something very distant in her manner. The warmth she had shown Scott was gone. "I'd like to go home now."
"Of course. Of course." McCall climbed back into the driver's seat without complaint. It had been a two hour drive up, another two back. He considered it a very small thing, in the face of everything else.
Lily sank into the passenger seat without a word. When Robert looked over at the bottom of the driveway, her eyes were closed.
Scott stepped quietly into the cabin. He took a quick look around and thought, aside, it was way nicer than the cabin Robert had once taken him to. Of course, Control had never struck him as the type to rough it if he didn't have to. So this was where he ran away to meet his mistress. Holy shit.
Then he saw Becky waiting for him and all those thoughts vanished. He crossed the room and swept her into his arms. "Oh, Becky. Oh, sweetie."
She had been crying, and she started again now. "I'm so sorry," she said against his chest.
"For what?"
"F-for making such a fuss. For making everybody go to so much t-t-trouble. For making a fool of myself."
"Oh, shhh. That doesn't matter. They understand."
"B–but … it's just a check. I shouldn't let it get to me like this."
"Says who?"
"Well – K-Kay, for one. And everybody must think I'm such an idiot."
Scott shook his head. "I don't. Dad doesn't. Lily doesn't."
"Kay does."
He stiffened. "I don't care what she thinks any more." He held her for another minute, then shifted and led her to the couch, where they curled up together. "Listen," Scott said. "I don't care what anybody else thinks. I know what this man did to you, and I know how much this hurt you. And you have every right to be as upset as you need to be."
Becky began to cry in earnest. Scott gathered her closer and held her, and let her cry.
He would have let her cry in his arms all night if she needed to. But his stomach, unfed since lunch, grumbled in protest. Becky sat up. "You must be starving," she said through her tears.
"It doesn't matter."
She struggled out of his arms and stood. "We got groceries. I'll fix you something."
"You don't have to do that."
"No. Enough crying." Becky pushed away her tears with her palms. "I need to think – we need to think – and I do that best when I'm cooking. Come on."
Reluctantly, he followed her to the kitchen. It was surprisingly modern. "This is way nicer than the cabin my dad took me to," he said grudgingly.
Becky glanced at him. "You know why, don't you?"
"I know." He sighed. "Control and Lily. Who'd have thought?"
"It should have been obvious," Becky said. "I mean – once you know, it's obvious. But they've been really secret about it."
"They have to be. Dad says the Company would kill them."
"I know." She brought out eggs and milk and bread, without asking what he was in the mood for. She knew him well enough to know that if it was hot and sweet, it would do. "It's just … if you could feel how much he loves her …" She shook her head. "I hope they find a way to be together."
Scott gestured around. "I think they kinda have."
Becky shook her head. "This is just … sneaking away, weekends, hours … it's not enough." She paused, feeling the feelings of this place. "There is so much here. And yet – it's not enough."
Ravenous, Scott took a piece of plain bread and chewed on it. Becky turned back to cooking. "Does she love him?"
"Hmm?"
"You said you could feel how much he loved her. But does she love him?"
"I …" Becky hesitated, then turned on the stove. "She must. But I can't read her. I've never been able to. Until tonight, and then just little glimpses." She shuddered softly. "I don't think I want to read her. She's – she's been through way more than I have."
Scott put his arm around her again. "Well, you've been through enough. It's not a competition."
"I know." She dropped the French toast into the skillet. "What are we going to do, Scott?"
"What about?"
"About the money. About the wedding."
He shook his head. "The money is up to you. We can send it back, we can donate it, we can keep it. Whatever you feel best about."
"I don't know."
"You don't have to decide right now."
"And the wedding?" She flipped the French toast onto a plate and started a second batch.
Scott took the plate and went in search of syrup. "Whatever you want to do."
"You're no help."
He smiled. "Becky, look. We have the license. We can go back tomorrow and find that guy and give him fifteen bucks and be married. Tell my mother to piss off, and go to Europe. Or we can call it all off, not go to Europe, see what happens. Or we can go ahead with the Kay Spectacular. Or something in between. Whatever you want."
"She'd be crushed if we called it off."
"I don't care," Scott said brusquely. "It's not her wedding."
"Scott."
"Becky, it's not. She's taken over this whole thing, she's run it exactly the way she wants it, she's barely asked us what we wanted. This is our wedding. And whether we get married now or later, in a church or on the steps of city hall, it's our decision, not hers. She gets no vote in this."
His anger caused Becky to flinch. Scott shook his head remorsefully and spoke more calmly. "Let's stay here tonight. We can decide in the morning."
After a moment, Becky nodded. "Yes. This is a good place."
"I rather thought," Robert said quietly, "that when you said we should stop to eat, you would actually be eating something."
Lily looked up from the steak she'd been pushing around her plate. "Sorry. Not much appetite."
"Try."
She took one bite, chewed like she might choke on it, and finally managed to swallow. "Happy?"
"Three more bites, please."
Lily rolled her eyes, but managed a bite of potato.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked.
The woman looked at him with eyes from the pit of hell. "Seventy-nine dollars and fifty-four cents."
"What?"
"Plus a quarter for ice cream."
"I'm sorry, I've no idea what you're talking about."
Lily's eyes were expressionless again. "I was thinking about how things get more expensive over time."
"I still don't follow."
She shrugged. "It doesn't matter."
She forked up one more bite of steak, then gave up.
As soon as they were back in the car, the phone rang. With a baleful glance, Robert picked it up. "McCall."
"It's Becky."
"Hello, love."
"I-I'm sorry to be so much trouble …"
"You are no trouble at all, my dear."
"A-a-and you've already done so much for us …"
"What would you like me to do, love?"
She took a deep, shaky breath. "Could you – could you explain to Kay for me?"
Robert stared at the highway ahead for a moment. "Of course I can. Of course. If you're sure that's what you want."
"I'm sure. Thank you."
He put down the phone. Lily looked at him quizzically. "Is there some new law," Robert said aloud, "that makes me the official deliverer of bad news for all the young ladies I am acquainted with?"
Lily shrugged. "I put the word out. You do it so well."
They built a fire, though it was not cold, and cuddled in front of it in silence.
The fire invoked spirits, whispers of emotions that lingered here. Not all of them were pleasant, and some were as dark as anything Becky had ever known. But they were muted by time and overwritten by love that also flourished here. If walls could talk, people said, and walls did talk to Becky, sometimes, but always in shades and shadows, never in words.
"They've been through worse," she said out loud.
"Hmm?" Scott asked drowsily.
"Control and Lily. They've been through worse than this. And they're still whole."
He stirred. "Oh."
"She didn't think about that, before she brought me here. Lily. She just thought, this was where she went when she felt worst, and it got better here."
"Uh-huh," Scott said. "That makes sense, I guess."
They were quiet for a long time, until a log collapsed in a little spray of sparks and Scott had to get the poker and push it back to the center of the fire.
"I still want to get married," Becky said.
"Oh, good. Big or small?"
She sighed. "I'm scared to death of the big wedding, you know."
"Why?"
"Having to talk in front of all those people. I know I'm going to st-stutter. I hate that."
Scott settled back and gathered her against his chest again. "As long as you can get out 'I do', I don't care."
"I think I can manage that. It's all the rest."
"I still got fifteen bucks."
Becky smiled sadly. "Everybody's done so much work."
"I told you before, this isn't about everybody. It's about you and me. And how you feel."
She nodded against his chest. "I think we can do this."
"Sure," Scott agreed heartily. "It'll still be an adventure."
McCall offered to walk Lily to her door and she gave him that look, the one that meant he was being sexist again and she was perfectly capable of handling any mugger who might be lurking in her hallway. He had to agree, at least with the last half of her unspoken thought. So he let her open her own car door. But he remained at the curb, the Jaguar idling throatily, until she was safely inside and up the stairs.
She had barely spoken all the way back from the cabin. She had been as silent as politeness would allow. She was hurting, deeply, and for reasons that Robert could not begin to fathom. Becky he understood; this one, he had only his suspicions about her past.
But he knew someone who knew. So he waited there, still idling, and dialed the forbidden number.
He was not at all surprised that Control was in his office, though it was nearly midnight. "What?"
"It's Robert."
The spymaster's tone mollified. "Is everyone all right?"
"As all right as they can be. Scott's with Becky. I imagine they'll be back tomorrow, though I can't say for sure. She's badly rattled."
"I know."
"There is something else," Robert said carefully. "I'm a bit concerned about the other young lady."
"Why?"
"She seems unaccountably distressed. I asked why, and all she would say was something about seventy-nine dollars and some change. I thought perhaps you knew what that signified."
"I have no idea," Control answered. He sounded perfectly sincere, but then he always did, whether he was lying or not.
"Plus a quarter for ice cream, she said."
There was a pause. "Damn."
"You do know what it means, then."
"I do." Control's voice was biting cold now, angry. "Oh, I do. Thank you for letting me know. I'll take care of it."
"I thought you would."
Robert put down the phone and rubbed his eyes. He was tired. Too much driving, too much pain. And his night wasn't over yet. But Scott was with Becky, and Control, unless he missed his guess, would be here soon with Lily. There was nothing else he could do for either of them.
Except that one aching favor he had left to do.
He put the Jag in gear and made a U-turn.
Anne Keller drifted to sleep.
She was naked. Her auburn hair spread in a soft tangle under her head, like an aura on her pillow. Her milk-pale skin was dappled red here and there from the friction of her lover's body, and a small mouth-shaped bruise deepened to purple at the base of her throat.
The lovemaking had been intense and extended and exhausting.
But Mickey stirred next to her, and her eyes fluttered open. He was propped on one elbow, also naked, watching her sleep. "What?" she murmured.
"Nothing," he said warmly. "Just looking at you."
"Mmm." She closed her eyes again and drifted, then dragged herself back awake when he stayed still. "Why?"
"Because you're beautiful. Because I love you."
Anne studied him. His eyes were serious, sad.
"Because I want to remember you like this," he finished.
She took a slow breath. "Because you're leaving."
Mickey nodded. "Sunday night."
A dozen emotions passed through her mind. They'd been expecting this for weeks. This had been a longer break then they could have hoped for. And, in some ways, she knew he was anxious for it to be over. Not to be away from her, but to be on with the mission.
And yet, and yet.
He would go, and she might never see him again.
And yet.
There was nothing to say. There never had been. She reached her arms out and drew his body back to hers.
Robert paused outside the hotel room door. He was tired. No. He was exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to go home to a hot shower and a cold Scotch, a quiet hour with a soothingly dry old book. He did not, emphatically not, want to deal with Kay and her emotions. Not tonight.
He rubbed his forehead, where a monster of a headache was gathering. Then he knocked on the door.
Kay answered immediately. She was still dressed, though she'd kicked her shoes off. She looked at Robert in some surprise. "Oh."
"You were expecting Scott."
"I … no. Come in. Is she okay? Becky?"
As if you care, Robert thought sharply. He held his tongue. "She's a little calmer. Scott's with her."
"How's he?"
Robert looked around the spacious suite. On the side table, Kay's suitcase lay open. She had packed a few things, a token of her leaving which she had no real intention of doing. He wondered if Scott would have known.
"Robert?"
"Hmm?"
"Is Scott all right?"
He looked back at her. She seemed genuinely concerned. "He's all right."
"He's never spoken to me like that before, Robert."
"Really? He speaks to me like that on a regular basis."
Kay looked away. She seemed on the verge of tears. Perhaps, Robert relented mentally, she really was. She took a deep breath. "Would you like a drink?"
Might as well, he thought: I'm paying for it. "That would be nice."
She got him a drink, and one for herself. When they were settled on the couch, she asked, "Was he right?"
"Hmm?"
"Scott. When he said I didn't understand anything. Was he right?"
Robert took a slow drink. Kay was being calm, reasonable. For all her demanding hysterics, when the chips were down, when she knew they were down, Kay could be as solid as a rock. "You don't understand about Becky, no. You couldn't possibly, of course, because you've been given no chance to."
She looked away and drank. "Please, Robert. I would like to understand."
McCall nodded. "That's why I'm here, Kay. I will tell you Becky's story, because she's asked me to. Because she thinks that you deserve to know."
"But you don't," Kay bristled.
He spread his hands for peace. "It is not my story, not my choice. I would keep her confidence if she asked me to. That is what I do."
"Keep secrets. Yes, I know."
Robert studied her calmly. "As I have kept your secrets, Kay, when you've asked me to."
She met his gaze, and for an instant, just an instant, everything they had been together was back. It seared through them like a passionate kiss, a bittersweet reminder of what they'd lost.
Kay looked away. "What happened to her, Robert? Who is this reverend … what was his name?"
McCall straightened. "Lawrence Masters. The Reverend Doctor Lawrence Masters."
"Did she kill him?"
"No."
"What, then?"
He took another drink, noting with appreciation that Kay waited in silence. There was no easy way to say it, any of it. "Becky drowned when she was a child. She was clinically dead for some minutes. And when they revived her she was psychic."
"Psychic?" Kay asked skeptically.
"Yes."
"You don't actually believe that."
Robert sighed. "I wish I didn't. But I've seen things, Kay. Warnings she's given me …" He shrugged. "It doesn't matter, that part. You can believe it or not. What matters is that her family believed it. And they became afraid for her – or of her. So they asked Dr. Masters to drive out the demons."
Kay's skepticism deepened. "An exorcism?"
"Of sorts. Not the Catholic rite, but the same principle."
"But it didn't work." Robert frowned at her. "You said she's still psychic."
He nodded. "Yes. Well, whatever her family thought was going to take place …" He closed his eyes briefly. Then he stood up and paced, drinking. Kay waited. "He raped her, Kay. She was a child, she was entrusted to his care, and he …"
He slammed back the rest of his drink.
Kay rose in silence, took the glass from his hand and refilled it. She put it in his hand, then slid into his arms and held him. "I'm sorry, Robert."
He took considerable comfort in her embrace. He hadn't known he needed it, but he welcomed it. "For what?"
"For her. For you, having to tell me. For all of it." Her head was still on his chest, in the familiar way. "Scott knows?"
"Yes."
"For him, too, then. Was this Masters, was he ever prosecuted?"
"No. Becky was very traumatized. She was mute for more than a year. And when she finally did speak, he denied it, claimed it was her demons speaking." Robert paused. "Her family sided with Masters."
"Oh my God." Kay backed away from him. "You must be joking."
Robert shook his head sadly. "Becky got some treatment, some help from the authorities, and then she came to New York. She's supported herself ever since."
"And her family …"
"They have no idea where she is. And I'm sure that's for the best."
"Yes. Oh, yes. Oh, Robert, that poor child …"
"No, Kay," he said firmly. "She doesn't need your pity. She doesn't want it."
"But all this time, all the talk about her family, all the times I've insisted she must have someone somewhere …" Tears filled Kay's eyes. "Oh, Robert, how could you? How could you let me be so cruel?"
McCall sighed. "Kay …"
"If I had known I never would have … I could have been so much more … damn you, Robert! You just let me blunder on while all the time you knew … you should have said something, Robert."
"I had promised to keep her confidence," Robert answered tartly.
Kay sagged, her rant deflated before it had properly begun. "I know, Robert. I'm sorry. It's just … Lily said … God, I have made such a fool of myself. And hurt that child a dozen times over."
"She knows you didn't know."
"That doesn't excuse it." She drank. "You might have found a way to say something, without betraying her confidence."
Robert nodded solemnly, though he wasn't sure he agreed. "I apologize. To be honest this whole affair has caught me a bit off-balance."
"Off-balance? You?" Kay smiled grimly. "I don't believe that for a minute."
"It's true," he smiled back sadly. "For what it's worth, you have not lost you ability to turn my world on its ear."
"Coming from you, Mr. McCall, that's quite a compliment." She sat back down. "So this Masters, he's dead now?"
"Yes. He died from a brain tumor."
"And left her money in his will. The miserable bastard."
Robert raised one eyebrow. "He may have meant it as an act of kindness."
"No. He just wanted to remind her one more time."
Robert shrugged. He had been there, at the revival where Masters had begged the girl's forgiveness. But that was a story Kay would never hear. That was his to keep.
"This detective. Will he tell her family where she is?"
"No. Control's taken care of that."
"Oh." Kay's lips pursed. She still didn't have any use for Robert's oldest friend, after all these years. "Yes, you said that before. What's he got to do with this, anyhow? With Becky?"
"She … sometimes provides him with ... insights."
"Oh, Robert, you haven't let her get involved with him, have you? An innocent child like Becky?"
"They're not close," Robert promised. Never mind that he himself had admonished Control repeatedly about involving the child in her various schemes; that was none of Kay's business either.
Kay sighed. "So many secrets. After all this time, you still keep so many secrets."
Robert nodded grimly. "It is what I do," he repeated.