He pulled into the taxi zone closest to the pier and parked, putting the VW in neutral but keeping the motor putt-putting away.
His passenger had her door open almost before hed stopped, but then, instead of getting out, she turned to him and in that oddly prim little way she had, all stiffened up with pride, said once again, Thank you. Then she let out a breath and smiled-wryly, but a smile nonetheless. He realized it had been a long time since hed seen it. For saving me-again. Im not sure what you saved me from, but Im sure it wouldnt have been pleasant. Sothank you. I mean it. Mister-its McCall, right?
No mister. Just McCall. He took the hand she offered. It was unbelievably small, almost childlike. He found himself suddenly remembering her kiss, and the feel of her body tucked up against him. Nothing childlike about that. No sir.
And youreEllie. Yeah, he remembered it now. Such a gentle name for a cinnamon girl. Elliewhat? He asked her that belatedly, remembering that she had a husband. Asking himself what did it matter what her name was, in that case. He was many things, but a seducer of other mens wives wasnt one of them.
Ellies enough. But she gave him her smile-the real one, briefly-before she got out of the car. Then she leaned down and said through the open window, Its short for Rose Ellen Lanagan. My dads Mike Lanagan. She straightened and walked away quickly, toward the pier.
McCall stared after her. Mike Lanagan. Was that supposed to mean something? Why did that sound so familiar to him? Something from his former life He shook his head once, hard, forcing the memory back into the dusty attic of his past.
More germane to the present, if that was her dads name-Lanagan-why had she given him her maiden instead of her married name?
And something else. Why didnt she seem worried about having told him all this? Hadnt it even occurred to her that he might go straight to the police?
And what about that, McCall? What are you going to do? Live and let live?
He was chewing on that when he noticed something that turned him cold all over. The envelope, the one the cigar-smoking boss-thug had given him. The one containing directions to a meeting with smugglers of illegal animals. Smugglers who, according to Miss Ellie, didnt seem to care how many of their cargo lived or died. People, therefore, with little or no regard for life, animal or human.
She had that envelope in her hand.
He shut off the motor and got out of the VW and called to her over the roof. She paused and turned to look back at him. What are you going to do? he asked her, nodding toward the envelope.
She glanced down as if surprised to see it there, then lifted it, gazed at it, turned it over once. Shrugged. I dont know, she said, and started walking again.
Live and let live. It seemed a fading memory to him now.
He jammed his keys into his pocket and set out after her at a jog trot. Which was more exercise than he was used to on a hot muggy afternoon, which, he told himself, was why he was out of breath and his heart beating hard when he caught up with her.
Come on, Ellie, he panted, shortening his customary lazy stride to match her short quick one. Cant you just let it go? For now, at least? Hey, at least until your husbands back on his feet?
She stopped walking and looked up at him, rosy from the sun and the heat and the exertion. He had a sudden and thoroughly shameful urge to take her in his arms and kiss her, husband or no.
She stopped walking and looked up at him, rosy from the sun and the heat and the exertion. He had a sudden and thoroughly shameful urge to take her in his arms and kiss her, husband or no.
First of all, she said in a matter-of-fact tone, these people are incredibly paranoid. Do you know how hard its been to win their trust, even this much? Any kind of delay, any glitches, and Im afraid theyll call the whole thing off. But besides thatarent you forgetting something? She looked at him for a long time, but he waited for her to say it. She did at last, in a voice soft and scratchy as wool. What happens if we happen to run into those three who were there today? As we surely would. As far as theyre concerned, you are my husband. Her lips tilted wryly. And let me tell you, McCall, you look nothing at all like my p-like Ken. How do I account for the fact that Im now married to somebody completely different?
McCall didnt have much of an answer for that, so after a while he said, through a grimace of helplessness and a tightness in his belly, Youre going to go through with this, arent you? On your own?
She shrugged and turned to walk on. I dont know. Maybe. If I have to.
He caught her arm and held on to it when she would have jerked away. I cant let you do that.
She gave a small, incensed gasp. You mean you think you can stop me?
No, McCall said with a weary sigh, I mean Im going with you.
He didnt know what hed expected her response to be-a little Snoopy-dance, maybe; a small Yippee, or at the very least a restrained, Okay, cool.
What she did was look at him for a long time without saying a word, a long enough time for him to begin to get good and uncomfortable with what hed done. Way long enough for him to start to have second-and third-thoughts.
Then she put her palms flat against his chest, stood up on her tippy toes, and kissed him.
On the cheek. Nothing at all like last time-the Hello-Hubby kiss. And the effect it had on him was a whole lot different, too, though both had left him dazed and confused, and aching in places he hadnt felt much of anything in for a long, long time.
For one thing, he suddenly remembered what that scent of hers was and where he knew it from. Orange blossoms, thats what it was. It made him think of when he was a kid, and the road between his dads garage on the outskirts of Bakersfield, California, and his school in town was still lined with groves instead of subdivisions, and sometimes when the trees were in bloom the air would smell so sweet hed roll down his window and suck it in with all his might, just trying to drink that air
That and the kiss-sweet, impulsive, genuine-left him with an ache in his throat and a rough, cranky feeling that was like hearing certain old songs on top of too much tequila.
Thank you, she said. Nothing prissy about it this time, just soft and real, and sweet, like the kiss.
Ill need to see that envelope, he said gruffly. See where it is they want us to go. See if theres a map, at least. He held out his hand.
She held on to the envelope, enfolding it in both hands against her chest, eyes going wary again. You really do mean it? Youll come with me to the meeting? Pretend to be my husband?
I said I would. McCall waggled his fingers impatiently. Come on, hand it over-before I change my mind.
How do I know you arent just trying to get the directions away from me? she demanded, flushed and breathless again. To keep me from going?
He gave an exasperated snort-though in his heart he rather admired her for thinking of that. And wished hed thought of it first. Come on, he growled, if Im going to be your husband, dont you think you should start trusting me?
Trust you? A beach-bum-slash-artist I dont know from Adam? Ellie wanted to say it, but didnt. Well both look at it-together, she said firmly, then paused, chewing on her lip. Is there someplace we can go? Not the ship, she hurriedly added, before he could suggest it. They know my husband there. They already think Im a terrible wife for not going to the hospital with him-God knows what theyd think if I showed up with you. No-what about a restaurant? We can have lunch while were at it. She was starving, actually; shed been too nervous to eat before the meeting. Except for the Hersheys Kisses, shed had nothing to eat since breakfast.
McCall glanced at his watch. Best thing would probably be if we just go to my place.
Your place? Mamas warn their little girls about guys like this. And yet, try as she would, Ellie couldnt find anything sinister or even suggestive in the invitation. Not the way hed said it. Just business. She wondered if the funny little twinge she felt could possibly be disappointment.
What, you still dont trust me? He was scowling at her, an impatient, sideways look. No worries, sister. Youre probably young enough to be my daughter. She made a small sound of insulted surprise, which he ignored. Look, Im going to have to unload the Beetle anyway, if were going to be heading south first thing in the morning. Not to mention one or two things I need to take care of. Believe it or not, I do have a life. Hey, look-suit yourself. Stay here, if you want to. Ill pick you up tomorrow morning. And he was heading back up the pier, sandals slapping and shirttail fluttering, muttering grumpily to himself.
Wait! Ellie yelled. Her mind was awhirl. Trust him? In spite of his overwhelmingly generous offer, about as far as she could throw him-which was why she was no way in hell about to let him out of her sight. What if he didnt come back? Shed have no idea how to find him again. Young enough to be your daughter? What is that?
He paused and looked back at her long enough to bark, What? Are you coming or not?
Coming! she snapped back. Dammit, there was no way she was young enough to be this mans daughter-and she was furious with him for making her feel as if she was. With that in mind she took a deep breath and fought down her temper. Excuse me, she said with what sounded to her like simpering politeness, but I have to tell the captain Im leaving the ship. And Ill need to get my stuff.
He took a few steps back toward her, warily, as if approaching a possibly dangerous animal. Why? I told you-we dont have to leave until tomorrow. She didnt say anything, just looked at him. Realization came to him a moment later, and he halted, teeth bared in a sardonic smile. Ah. I see. You really dont trust me, do you? He ambled toward her, still smiling, arms folded across his chest. Kind of got you on the horns of a dilemma, hasnt it, sister? Dont trust me enough to come home with me, but dont trust me enough to let me out of your sight, either. He made a brief, tsking sound. Must be tough, being so suspicious all the time.