Page 47 of Pretense


  Chicago

  "What's this?" Delancey asked Chet after he had arrivedather apartment. He had kissed her and said hello but then immediately handed her an envelope.

  "You'll have to open it and see."

  Delancey looked at the smug expression he wore a smiled. He loved surprising her, and surprised she was.envelope held an airline ticket in her name.

  "Jamaica?" Delancey gawked at it and then at him.

  "That's right. You did tell me you got your passport, did you?"

  "Yes, I did, but I never dreamed-"

  Chet smiled, loving her response. "To be honest with you,Ihave to work some of the time, but it's a special chartered flightand while I'm off, we can be together."

  "Oh, Chet. It sounds wonderful. What are the dates?"

  "Right after school lets out. It's your graduation present fromme."

  Delancey reached over to kiss him but in the process hadasudden thought. "Will I have my own room?"

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  Chet's eyes were direct. "If you want that, yes."

  Delancey swallowed hard. This was new ground for her. "May I let you know?"

  "Of course." His gaze was tender. "I haven't pressured you before, Delancey. I'm not going to start now."

  Just his saying that made her want to say yes, but she didn't. She waited another week to say it and was very glad she did; Chet said he loved her for the very first time.

  Alexandria

  "It's as good as your first," Paxton told Mackenzie. "I wasn't prepared for that, butSeahorseis as good asAccess Denied."

  "Well, I'm glad to hear I'm not losing my touch," Mackenzie said lightly, but she was very pleased.

  They were in Farrell's for dinner. Paxton had called her just the day before to say that he was finished reading and needed to meet with her. Mackenzie had been a bit fearful of his response but need not have worried. He was ecstatic.

  "The ending is such a surprise," Paxton went on. "I think that's what I like so much. I love it when I don't see something coming."

  "There were several ways I could have gone, but this ending won out."

  "I'm glad it did. I think I would have figured out anything else."

  They ordered their food when the waiter came, thankful for the private booth, and went right back to talking.

  "I started another story, Pax," Mackenzie told him in between bites of salad and bread. "It's different from the other two, but I'm excited about it."

  "Tell me about it."

  "It all takes place in the United States-nothing out of the country this time-and centers on a police commissioner. I know it's been done before, but I hope to add a few new twists to it."

  "What's the driving force?"

  "A serial killer."

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  "You're right." Paxton's voice was flat. "That has been done before."

  Not put off, Mackenzie sat thinking. Like her first book, she did this for herself. She had a story in her head and had to write it, even if Paxton didn't want to publish it.

  "Do you even want to hear about it?" Mackenzie finally asked.

  "Yes, I do, but I felt I should be honest. By the way, what's it called?"

  "Blue Crayon."

  "Blue Crayon?"

  "That's right," Mackenzie teased. "Want to know more?"

  Paxton nodded and smiled, keeping in mind that she hadn't let him down yet. He sat transfixed for the next 20 minutes and listened until Mackenzie gave him the wrap-up.

  "The commissioner is completely stumped by now. Sixteen people in the Chicago area are dead-children, women, and men-all from different walks of life, but all killed in exactly the same way, and each is left with a blue crayon in his or her hand. The commissioner is so perplexed that he's getting ready to turn in his badge. He's lost weight and his hair is falling out, and the governor is breathing down his neck to solve the worst set of crimes in the state's history. He's beside himself, but he's so tired he can't think, so he takes a day off. He spends the day with his children, and that's when he sees it: his daughter's crayon box. The blue crayon is a completely different brand. When he questions her, she says she got it from Mrs. Edmondson. Mrs. Edmondson is an adorable middle-aged woman who has lived with them for five years-she's nanny to the commissioner's children."

  "What is the woman's problem?"

  "She's obsessed with the commissioner's youngest child. Anyone who even looks at her cross-eyed is removed from the picture."

  Paxton nodded, feeling more impressed than he'd planned on. "I like it, but I'm still going to warn you that it's been done quite a bit."

  "What hasn't been, Pax? But if I put my own slant on this and keep the reader guessing, then I've done my job."

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  Again the man looked at her. "I know I've said this before, Mackenzie, but you really are a surprise."

  The writer laughed. "I'm glad. I wouldn't want you to be bored. By the way, how is Jodi?"

  Paxton beamed. "She's pregnant."

  "Congratulations!"

  "Thank you," he said as he bowed his head modestly.

  "Are you two ever getting married?" Mackenzie boldly questioned him.

  "Yes, we will, in another few months when things slow down at work. It will be very private, but we'll have you to dinner sometime."

  "I'll enjoy that."

  "Will you be bringing anyone along?" Paxton asked with no work at subtlety.

  "No, I'm afraid things are pretty quiet in that area of my life."

  "Tom told me he blew it but didn't elaborate."

  Mackenzie nodded. "It's taken me some time to get back on my feet, but I think I'll be all right. I hope Tom is too."

  "I'm glad you don't hate him."

  "Me too."

  "How's your sister these days?"

  "She's fine. At the moment she's in Jamaica with her boyfriend."

  "Sounds nice."

  "Yes. He's a pilot and has to work part of the time, but she needed to get away."

  "She graduated, didn't she?"

  "Yes. Made me wish I'd gone to school."

  "For what?"

  Mackenzie opened her mouth, shut it, and shrugged. "I don't know."

  Paxton laughed. "Listen, Mackenzie, there are people who have college degrees and study for years to do what you do naturally. Don't ever take it for granted."

  "Thank you, Pax. I'll try to remember that."

  Dinner ended on that warm note, and Mackenzie went back to her apartment. She was tired and had no plans to write but got an idea while watching TV. She ended up as she often did- writing until her eyes couldn't focus on the screen anymore.

  446

  Delancey was in the shower when Mackenzie called, but she had left a message, and as soon as Delancey was dressed, she called her back. The younger sibling was glad that she had a few minutes to compose herself or her voice would have given her away. About the only person she wanted to hear from these days was Chet, but the summer had brought more work than ever, and she had never felt so alone.

  "Hi, Mic," Delancey worked at being cheerful.

  "Oh, you're home. I just called."

  "I was in the shower."

  "Oh, okay. I'm calling to tell you that I'm taking a trip."

  "You are? Where?"

  "Europe."

  "Oh, Mic, how fun! When are you going?"

  "Two weeks."

  "Where to?"

  "All over. Wanna come?"

  "Oh, Mic!"

  "You're welcome, Delancey, and I mean it. I have to get out of this apartment or go crazy, and I think it's time I see a little of the world. I know you have deadlines, so I don't want you to feel pressured, but I'm going for a month, and you're welcome to join me."

  The first thing Delancey wanted to say was no, at least until she talked with Chet. He had talked about their going away again since they got back from Jamaica, but the summer had slipped past and it had never happened. Even their dates and phone conversations had started to slow down. When Chet was with Delance
y he was remarkably attentive, but when he was working, she might as well not exist. Delancey suddenly didn't care if he wanted to go somewhere with her or not. It was already September, and she hadn't seen her sister since Christmas.

  "Name the date, Mic, and I'll be there."

  "Do you mean it, D.J.?" Mackenzie's voice changed with her excitement. "You'll come?"

  "Yes."

  Mackenzie was so elated that it took her a moment to speak. "I already bought your tickets, just in case, Deej. You fly here on the fourteenth and we both fly out on the fifteenth. When we

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  return, we both fly into National on the thirteenth, and you go home the fifteenth of October. Will that work?"

  "Oh yes, Mic! A whole month together! Do you know how long it's been?"

  "Too long. I can't believe how long it's been since we've even been able to hug each other. Virginia just isn't that far, but all I ever do is write."

  And all I do is wait for Chet to call,Delancey thought, but she kept still.

  "Well," she said instead, "you deserve this getaway. Where do we start?" Delancey was getting into it.

  "We fly in and out of London, but in between, we go anywhere we like."

  Delancey nearly squealed with delight. It was a dream come true. The sisters ended up talking for more than an hour, plotting and planning how they would visit places they had only dreamed of going.

  Delancey got off the phone feeling buoyant with the thought of doing this with her sister. She loved the fact that it would be private, just the two of them. Not to mention the fact that Mackenzie was always so fun. They hadn't spent a month together all in one stretch since Mackenzie joined the Army.

  The mood, the excitement, and even the need for privacy held Delancey for the next several days, even through one phone call from Chet. By the time he called she was scheduled to leave in four days, but since he'd called to cancel a date, Delancey was irritated and didn't tell him of her plans. She left Chicago without a backward glance, her landlady giving her a ride to the airport and also promising to tell all visitors that Miss Delancey Bishop was on an extended vacation, and nothing more.

  London

  Neither one of the Bishop sisters had ever been in a store like Harrods. Floors and floors to wander through and all of them filled with the most gorgeous merchandise either one of them had ever seen. They walked around almost speechless forthe first hour and became uncorked in the lingerie department.

  "Look at this." Mackenzie held up a camisole so soft and white that it looked like snow.

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  "They have the same fabric in other pieces," Delancey pointed out, holding up some panties. The girls went slightly mad until Delancey realized something.

  "Mic, we're going to have to lug all this around if we shop now."

  "We'll have it shipped home," she said simply.

  "But no one's there to get it."

  Mackenzie had not thought of this complication. And with that, they slowed down, knowing they were going to end their trip in London as well.

  "We'll just take a little more time at the end than we planned."

  "That works for me."

  Since shopping was cut short, sight-seeing began early. They took a double-decker, open-air bus to see some of the sights and to get a feel for what they would do later. Trafalgar Square, Buckingham Palace, and the Tower of London looked inviting, and Mackenzie made a mental note to spend some time in those spots, even as they took a five-hour train ride to Glasgow, Scotland.

  They stayed in a bed-and-breakfast inn, saw the Glasgow Cathedral and the Botanical Gardens, took in a show at the Theatre Royale, walked for miles, ate at small pubs for dinner and lunch, and talked almost nonstop. Feeling as though they had years to catch up on, both women pulled out all the stops.

  "How are thingsreallygoing with Chet?" Mackenzie wanted to know. They had left Scotland, gone back through England, and were now on a ferry crossing the English Channel with plans to go to Brussels, and then on to Frankfort and Prague.

  "You know that phrase, 'love is blind,' Mic? Well, there's a lot of truth to it. I can't believe how much I wait for him to call, and even when he cancels our dates, I usually stuff down my feelings so he won't feel guilty."

  "Why is it so hard for him to see you?"

  "Work. He's low man on the totem pole, and he has to take the hours he can get. Sometimes it's two weeks before he can even call me."

  "Maybe you should move in together-then at least he would see you when he's home."

  "I hadn't thought of that."

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  "Your place is great for work. Maybe you could live at his place and work at the warehouse. Would that work? Is his place nice?"

  "I've never seen it."

  Mackenzie didn't need to comment on this. Her face said it all.

  "He works so much, Mic," Delancey said, but it sounded lame even to her own ears. "He comes when he can. It doesn't ever feel as though we have time to go to his place."

  Mackenzie tried to swallow the feelings of anger toward this man she had never met. Did he know how sweet Delancey was? Did he know that she would never abuse his love but cherish him as she longed to be cherished? Mackenzie mentally shook her head. She had to get her mind off of this or she was going to tell her sister she was a fool.

  "What did he think of this trip? Was he put out?"

  "I didn't tell him." D.J.'s chin came up a little.

  Mackenzie let out an incredulous little laugh. "You didn't tell him?"

  "Nope. He called a few days before we left, but it was to cancel another date. I was irritated."

  "Won't your landlady tell him where you are?"

  "She's a man-hater, Mic. When I told her I wanted it kept silent, she was delighted."

  Mackenzie really laughed at that, and Delancey couldn't help but laugh too. When they sobered, however, Delancey's face showed her pain.

  "You feel used, don't you?"

  "I do, Mic." Tears filled her eyes. "Sometimes he can only come by for a few hours, but we always end up in bed. I even fell asleep one time and woke to find him gone. I felt like an old coat."

  "Do you even enjoy it, D.J.?"

  "The sex? Yes, I do, but the guilt is awful. When I'm with Chet I can't see anyone but him, but as soon as he leaves, I think about the way Mom warned us. All the days and nights I spend alone make me think about the way she waited for marriage. I thought waiting for love was good enough, but now I'm not so sure."

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  For a moment Mackenzie had no idea what to say. Telling her sister to break up with Chet was not the answer. She was clearly in love, and feelings didn't change that swiftly.

  "It sounds to me like the relationship is all on Chet's terms," Mackenzie suddenly realized.

  "It is that. And since I love him, I put up with it."

  "Would you put up with it if he knocked you around once in a while?"

  "He would never do that."

  "But would you?"

  "No, never." Delancey frowned at her.

  "What if he cheated on you? Would you just look the other way?"

  "Of course not." Delancey was getting testy.

  "So you do have your limits, Delancey. I think when you go home, you need to tell Chet Dobson that the limits have been adjusted. You deserve better than you're getting, and you're the only one who can demand it. If he doesn't want to do this on your terms, or at least on both of your terms, I think he should take a hike."

  Easier said than donewas Delancey's first thought, but she didn't immediately discount what her sister had to say. She thought about Chet almost constantly, but what fun was it being in love alone? Oh, he told her he loved her, but lately there was little action behind the words. For a moment she tried to imagine life without him and felt so bereft that she could hardly breathe.

  Seeing that her sister needed time, Mackenzie was quiet. It was amazing, really. They had watched their mother in two wonderful relationships, but Delancey wasn't lucky enou
gh to find one of her own. Without warning Mackenzie could hear her father saying that luck had nothing to do with it. She hadn't thought of that in years and didn't want to think of it now. It was with relief that she realized it was almost time to disembark.

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  Thirty-Five

  Prague led to a trip through Switzerland, into Paris,and then to southern France where it was remarkably warm. For several days the sisters lay on the beach at Saint-Tropez. After all the cathedrals, small shops, art museums, and trying to be understood, it felt wonderful to lie around, talk, and eat. Delancey was approached by at least ten different men, and Mackenzie had her share of offers, but the sisters had time only for each other.

  They slept in in the mornings, and after a leisurely brunch were usually on the beach by noon. It wasn't extremely crowded, but some of the other hotel guests were interesting, and their swimwear was nothing short of outrageous.

  "I wish I'd known I would need my bikini," Delancey commented as one tan, very scantily clad woman strolled by.

  "That wasn't a bikini, Deej. That was a few scraps of cloth and a little dental floss."

  Whenever Mackenzie made these outrageous comments, her sister was her best audience. She ended up burying her face in her towel in order to muffle her laughter.

  "That's what I love about you, Delancey," Mackenzie laughed at the other woman's response. "You always laugh in all the right places."

  The sisters smiled at each other before Delancey turned over. "Could I possibly be tired again? We just got up."

  "I think it's the sun-it drains you."

  They were silent for a time, Delancey sunning her back and Mackenzie sitting up scanning the beach.

  "You really should draw this, D.J.," Mackenzie said as she ran her fingers through the sand. "It's so beautiful."

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  "I took some pictures," Delancey answered with her eyes closed, "so even if I can't remember, I can always get out my pictures and draw a little something."

  "Be sure and send me copies of the photos."

  "I will," Delancey said on a huge yawn and proceeded to fall asleep. Mackenzie, on the other hand, was awake and thinking.

  Icould live on the water,she thought, her eyes on the glorious Mediterranean. Icould wake up every day and see the water and be calmed and feel at peace.Mackenzie thought back to her years of living at the Presidio. At some point almost every day she had a view of the ocean or San Francisco Bay, and it never ceased to delight and amaze her.