Inside the fence a Doberman patrolled the area. Did boats really require that much security? she wondered. Maybe in this area everything did. The business on the next corner was located inside an ugly cinder-block building with big red banners across the windows proclaiming the best deals in town on new and used motorcycles. The parking lot was filled with the two-wheeled machines.
"Do I have to stay here by myself?" she said.
Lee pulled out a baseball cap from his bag and put on his sunglasses.
"Yes," he said curtly. "Or was that a ghost back there telling me she can take care of herself?"
With no snappy reply coming to mind, Faith had to content herself with angrily watching as Lee hurried across the street and into the motorcycle shop. As she waited, she suddenly sensed a presence behind her. When she turned, she was staring directly at the large Doberman.
It had wandered out of the yard. Apparently the boat yard's tight security didn't include closing the damn gate! When the animal showed its teeth and uttered a low, terrifying growl, Faith slowly reached down and gripped the bags. Holding them in front of her, she backed across the street and into the parking lot of the motorcycle shop. The Dobie lost interest in her and went back inside the boat yard.
Faith breathed a sigh of relief and put down the bags. She noted a couple of fleshy teenagers sporting sparse goatees checking out a used Yamaha at the same time they were ogling her. She pulled her baseball cap down farther, turned away and pretended to examine a shiny red Kawasaki that was, surprise, on sale. Across Jeff Davis was a business that leased heavy construction equipment. She looked at a crane that rose a good thirty feet in the air. Dangling from its cable was a small forklift that had a sign painted across it that read, RENT ME.
Everywhere she looked was a world she no longer knew much about. She had traveled a much different circuit: capital cities of the world, high political stakes, demanding clients, enormous amounts of power and money, all perpetually shifting like the continental plates. Things got crushed in between these masses all the time, and no one even knew it. She suddenly realized that the real world was a two-ton forklift dangling like a guppy on a string. Rent me. Employ people. Build something.
But Danny had given her a shot at redemption. She was a dime a dozen, yet she had been doing some good in the world. For ten years now she had been helping people who desperately needed it. Perhaps also these ten years she'd been atoning for the vicarious guilt she'd felt growing up, watching her father's shenanigans, however well intentioned, and all the pain they had caused. She had actually been afraid to ever analyze that part of her life too deeply.
Faith heard footsteps behind her and turned around. The man was dressed in jeans, black boots and a sweatshirt with the logo of the motorcycle shop printed across it. He was young, early twenties, big, sleepy eyes, tall, slender and good-looking. And he knew it, she could readily tell, by his cocky manner. His expression clearly evidenced that his interest in Faith was deeper than her choice in two-wheeled transportation.
"Can I help you with anything, ma'am? Anything at all?"
"Just browsing. I'm waiting for my boyfriend."
"Hey, this is a pretty machine over here." He pointed to a BMW cycle that just reeked, even to Faith's untrained eye, of money. Wasted money, in her opinion. But then again, wasn't she the proud owner of a big BMW sedan, which sat in the garage of her very expensive digs in McLean?
He rubbed one hand slowly across the Beemer's gas tank. "Purrs like a kitten. You take care of beautiful things, they take good care of you.
Real good." A big smile broke across his features as he said this. He looked her over and winked.
Faith wondered if this was his best pickup line.
"I don't drive them, I just ride on them," she said casually, and then regretted her choice of words.
He smiled broadly. "Well, that's the best news I've heard all day. In fact, you just made my whole year. Just ride 'em, huh?" The young man laughed and clapped his hands together. "Well, how about we go for a spin, sweet thing? You can check out my equipment. Just climb on."
Her face flushed. "I don't appreciate your-"
"Now, don't go getting mad. If you need anything, my name's Rick." He held out his card and winked at her again. He added in a low voice,
"Home phone's on the back, babe."
She looked at the card in his hand with distaste. "Okay, Rick, but I like full disclosure. Are you man enough to take it?"
Rick didn't look so comfortable now. "I'm man enough for anything, babe."
"Good to hear. My boyfriend is inside. He's about your height, but he's got a real man's body."
The hand holding the card dropped to Rick's side as he scowled at her.
Faith easily sensed that his pat lines had been forgotten and his mind was too slow to think of new ones.
Faith eyed him closely. "Yeah, his shoulders are about the size of Nebraska, and did I mention he's an ex-Navy boxing champ?"
"Is that right?" Rick pocketed his card.
"Don't take my word for it; he's right there. Go ahead and ask him."
She pointed behind him.
Rick whirled around and watched as Lee came out of the building carrying two helmets and two one-piece riding suits. A map was stuffed into his front jacket pocket. Even under the bulky clothes he was wearing, Lee's impressive build was very apparent. He glared suspiciously at Rick.
"Do I know you?" Lee asked him gruffly.
Rick smiled uneasily and then swallowed with difficulty as he looked Lee over. "N-no, sir," he stammered.
"Then what the hell do you want, kid?"
Faith piped in, "Oh, he was just asking me the sorts of things I liked in my riding equipment, right, Ricky?" She smiled at the young salesman.
"That's right. Yep. Well, see ya." Rick practically ran toward the shop.
"Bye-bye, sweet thing," Faith called after him.
Lee scowled at her. "I told you to wait across the street. Can I not leave you alone for one damn minute?"
"I had an encounter with a Dobie. Retreat seemed the wisest course."
"Right. What, were you negotiating with the guy to jump me so you can get away?"
"Don't get crazy on me, Lee."
"I kind of wished you had. It'd give me an excuse to kick the shit out of somebody. What'd he really want?"
"Junior wanted to sell me something, and it wasn't a motorcycle. What's that?" she asked, pointing at what he was carrying.
"Necessary equipment for motorcycle riders this time of year. At sixty miles an hour, there's a tiny bite in the air."
"We don't have a motorcycle."
"We do now."
She followed him around back to where an enormous Honda Gold Wing SE road bike sat. With its slick chrome and futuristic design, high-tech equipment and full windshield, the motorcycle looked like something Batman might tool around on. It was painted pearl-gray-green with dark gray green trim and had a king and queen seat with a padded backrest.
The passenger would fit snugly there, like a ball in a glove. It was so big and elaborately equipped that it looked like an open-air recreational vehicle.
Lee stuck a key in the ignition and started putting on his suit. He handed the other outfit to Faith.
"Just where are we going on this thing?"
Lee zipped up his suit. "We are going to your little place in North Carolina."
"All that way on a motorcycle?"
"We can't rent a car without a credit card and ID. Your car and mine are useless. We can't take a train, plane or bus. They'll cover all those places. Unless you can sprout wings, this is it."
"I've never even been on a motorcycle."
He took off his shades. "You don't have to drive it. That's what I'm here for. So what do you say? Want to go for a ride?" He flashed a grin at her.
Faith felt as though a brick had hit her in the head when he said those words. Her skin was afire as she looked at him perched on that machine. And at that exact moment, as tho
ugh by the will of God, the sun broke through the gloom. A shaft of light came down and ignited those already dazzling blue eyes into flame-filled sapphires. She found she couldn't move. Lord, she could barely breathe; her knees began to quiver.
It was fifth grade, recess. The boy with the man-size eyes the exact color of Lee's had ridden his bike with the banana seat up to where she sat on the swing reading a book.
"Want to go for a ride?" he had asked her. "No," she had said, and then immediately dropped her book and climbed on back. They were an
"item" for two months, planning their lives together, vowing their undying love for each other, even though they never exchanged so much as a peck on the lips. Then her mother died, and Faith's father moved them away. She briefly wondered if Lee and he could be one and the same. She had banished the memory so completely from her subconscious that she couldn't even remember the boy's name. It could be Lee, couldn't it? She thought this because the only other time in her entire life when her knees had gone weak was on that playground. The boy had said what Lee had just said, and the sun had hit those eyes just as it had smacked Lee's, and her heart felt as though it would explode if she didn't do exactly as he said. Just how it felt right now.
"Are you okay?" Lee asked.
Faith gripped one of the handlebars to steady herself, and said as calmly as she could, "And they're just going to let you drive off with it?"
"My brother runs the place. It's a demo. We're officially taking it for an extended test drive."
"I can't believe I'm doing this." Just like fifth grade, there was no way she could not get on that bike.
"Consider the alternative, and then the idea of your butt on this Honda starts looking beautiful." He slid his shades on and flipped his helmet's shield down as though putting an exclamation point on this statement.
Faith slipped on the suit, and with Lee's help managed to get the helmet on snugly. He loaded their bags into the Honda's spacious trunk and saddle pouches, and Faith climbed on behind him. He started the engine, gunned it for a moment or so and then hit the gas. When he released the clutch, the power of the Honda threw Faith back against the padded bar and she found herself clamping her arms and legs around Lee and the eight-hundred-pound motorcycle, respectively, as they rocketed onto Jeff Davis heading south.
She almost jumped off the bike when she heard the voice in her ear.
"Okay, calm down, it's a Chatterbox helmet-to-helmet audio link," Lee's voice said. He'd obviously felt her shock. "You ever driven down to your beach house?"
"No, I always flew."
"That's okay. I've got a map. We'll take 95 down and pick up Interstate 64 near Richmond. That'll get us to Norfolk. We'll figure out the best way from there. We'll grab something to eat on the way.
We should make it before it gets too dark. Okay?"
She found herself nodding and then remembered to say, "Okay."
"Now, just sit back and relax. You're in good hands."
Instead, she leaned into him, circled her arms around his waist and held tightly. She was suddenly immersed in the recollection of