Death Benefits. Hannah Alexander
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were his household help, Richard Cook, and college student, Blaze Farmer, who, Ginger knew, Lucy adored. If anyone could put Lucy at ease about tonight, it would be Blaze.
All the men went over the property once again for good measure, then rejoined the family in the great room, accepting the cups of hot chocolate the girls had helped Ginger prepare.
No one was found, but Ginger couldn’t help feeling that perhaps someone just didn’t want to be found.
THREE
Ray Clyde sat reading the Springfield Daily News with his back to the window that looked out over the parking lot of the Springfield-Branson Airport. He’d received an early morning summons to Columbia Regional Hospital for one of his young patients. After finishing there, he’d decided just to drive on down to Springfield rather than go back to bed. He’d have had to get up early to make the three-hour drive, anyway.
It was never easy to get back to sleep after dealing with a child in pain, though after twenty years, he should be impervious to the cries of mother and child, the fear and panic. He wasn’t. He had decided when he first began his career that if he ever ceased to have compassion for his patients, he would retire.
He’d be working well into his seventies at this rate.
He glanced over the top of his paper as two familiar figures entered the concourse and walked toward the Delta self-check-in terminals. He smiled at the sight of Willow Traynor and her brother, Preston Black.
Willow glowed with the radiance of a woman in love. Tall and slender, with short, dark hair, she emanated self-sufficiency. This was something about which her fiancé, Graham Vaughn, occasionally complained—though always with good grace.
Neither Willow nor Preston noticed Ray, and he was glad. It meant others also might not notice him. Graham had even suggested that Ray not attempt to board until the last minute. Ray understood perfectly why his friend felt a late arrival was necessary, but he still chafed at the thought of subterfuge.
After another five minutes, the glass doors slid open again and two little girls burst into the concourse. Ray knew from photos that these children were Lucy and Brittany Jameson. They would be adopted by Graham and Willow next week, as soon as they returned from Hawaii.
“Mommy!” Brittany called, racing forward, arms outstretched.
Willow turned, a smile of delight spreading across the slightly angular features of her face. The smile transformed her somewhat solemn expression into a thing of beauty.
She and her brother, Preston, both stepped out of line and knelt to embrace the children.
Brittany, the five-year-old, looked small for her age, though Ray knew she was nearly six. It was easy to tell that she was the charmer. With long, pale hair and a wide grin, she looked much like the photos of her mother, who had been killed last year.
Lucy, in contrast, appeared older than eight and a half, not because of her size, but because her demeanor was so watchful and serious. She resembled Willow, with her dark brown hair and reserved expression, especially when she smiled, which she suddenly did at Willow, whom she obviously adored.
Preston leaned close to Lucy and asked her something. Ray couldn’t hear what he said, but Lucy placed her hands on her hips and gave him a disapproving look. “It’s not an airplane, Uncle Preston, it’s a jet.”
Preston chuckled. He, too, looked most like Willow when he smiled. It was obvious he doted on the children.
“That’s right, my dear, you set ’em straight” came a painfully familiar voice from behind the girls.
Ray looked up to see Ginger Carpenter walking through the doorway beside Graham Vaughn, her brother. Ray’s breath caught.
Ginger. A year ago, if anyone had suggested that a rift might form between him and Ginger Carpenter, Ray would have thought it was impossible. His most precious memories of their time together and their growing friendship were of her smile, her laughter, her tender compassion.
Of course, many of those same memories also included the powerful and painful attraction he had felt for her since their first meeting. By all indications, the attraction had never been reciprocated, and he hoped his rare loss of emotional control had remained undetected by his colleagues—and especially by Ginger.
He expected her to turn at any second and spot him. Fireworks would then commence.
The reason Graham preferred that the conflagration take place onboard rather than in the concourse was obvious. Graham wanted his sister to attend his wedding. If she saw Ray while she could still escape, she might do so. Graham had warned Ray that his characteristically kindhearted, forgiving sister had not forgiven Ray for their conflict last year.
Ray intended for that to change on this trip.
He continued to hold the paper, but over the top edge he watched Ginger. He had always enjoyed her sunny smile, her quick laughter, the glow of health across her fair, freckled face. This morning her golden-red hair was mingled with new silver that he hadn’t noticed a year ago. The effect was one of antiqued copper—very becoming on her. She didn’t appear well rested, however.
A strange man with dark brown hair and a black leather jacket suddenly joined the group. Lucy grabbed her sister’s arm and stepped in front of her protectively.
Ray watched the man’s face.
“Ow!” Brittany wriggled from Lucy’s grip. “Stop it, sissy, you’re hurting me.”
Lucy released her, but continued to stare at the man. As Preston and Willow had done, this man squatted in front of the girls, looking them in the eyes. “Hi. I’m Larry Bager.”
The man’s eyes were dark brown, and his well-developed muscles beneath the jacket were obvious. He had a short beard that looked unshaved rather than intentionally grown.
“I’m Lucy Jameson,” the older sister told the man. “This is my sister, Brittany.”
He nodded. “I know.”
Lucy leaned closer to him and said something Ray couldn’t hear. Larry’s gaze flicked up to Ginger, then back at Lucy. “That’s right, I’m like a bodyguard.”
Lucy nodded, apparently satisfied. “Is that like a bouncer? I went to work with Mama sometimes, and she introduced me to the bouncer at the bar where she worked.”
Again, Larry nodded. “I’m the man to come to if you get scared of anything, okay?”
“Okay.”
Larry straightened and looked around. “Hey, boss,” he said to Graham, “where’re those trip escorts we’re supposed to have flying with us?”
“I just got a call from Helen Courtney,” Graham said. “She told me they had some car trouble and they’re running late, but they’ll be on the flight with us.”
Larry was close enough to Ray when he drew Graham aside that Ray could hear them. “You check ’em out? Are they legit?”
“One of my renters, Mrs. Engle, set us up with them. They’ve been on board with this plan for several weeks, coordinating our requests.”
Larry glanced in Ray’s direction and his eyes narrowed, as if some inner radar ignited his suspicion. “Can’t be too careful.”
Lucy grabbed her sister’s hand. “Brittany, you’ve got to stay with us, okay?” Lucy said. “No wandering off, and you can’t talk to strangers. I mean it.”
“Okay.” Brittany turned and smiled up at Larry Bager, even though she’d just met him. “My teacher says airplanes are as safe as riding a school bus.”
Lucy nudged Brittany. “School bus? Not even close. You aren’t with a bunch of kids on this flight. These are grown-ups, and you know what Mama always said about talking to strangers, especially grown-ups.”
Aunt