The Escape Artist

  "Hmm," Grace said, "they might have too small a paper to be indexed. And no, you couldn't check from here. You'd have to…look, I know a reference librarian who works at the Naval Academy in Annapolis. I met him at a conference. If you call him and use my name, he'd probably help you with it, as long as he's got the time. Hypothetically, of course."

  "Thanks, Grace."

  She left the line for a few minutes, and when she returned, she gave him the name and number of the librarian.

  "Linc, just promise me you're not doing something stupid."

  "Promise," he said. Then with a sigh, "By the way, I'd be willing to go out with your friend. Not as a date. But maybe dinner with you and Valerie." He cringed in anticipation of her elated response.

  "All right," she said. "Maybe we could do it this weekend."

  "No rush," Linc said.

  When he got off the phone he called the librarian in Annapolis, hoping that no one scrutinizing his phone records would think a call to the library at the Naval Academy was suspicious. The librarian sounded dour and uncooperative until Linc mentioned Grace's name. Then he perked up and was unabashedly friendly. Linc gave him the name of the woman who had been killed. He considered giving him the name of the law firm, but was worried the librarian might recognize it. Surely in a town that small the killings would have been big news, and he didn't want the librarian to assume the connection was the bombings themselves. Instead, he gave him the names of a few other individuals on the list, along with the dates written next to their names.

  "Do those dates refer to this year?" the librarian asked.

  "I assume so." Linc looked at the list. "Well, actually, I don't know."

  "And how soon do you need the information?"

  "Whenever you can get to it," he said. "I'm curious, that's all."

  "I'll see what I can do."

  Linc hung up the phone and crushed out his cigarette. Sam sauntered into the room and rested his heavy dark head on Linc's knee, and Linc scratched the dog behind his ears. He thought he detected a disapproving look in Sam's big eyes.

  "I know, I know," Linc said. "I'm done with Susanna, okay? I'm just curious about that list, that's all."

  His words did nothing to alter the look in Sam's eyes, and with a sigh, Linc pushed back his chair and lit up another cigarette.

  –31–

  On her way to Adam's house, Kim stopped at Noel's to drop off one hundred pages and pick up another chunk of his manuscript—and a check. His apartment was smoky and chilly, but Noel himself was in a good mood.

  "This looks really super," he said as he leafed through the typed pages. "Helps me delude myself into thinking I'm writing a real book."

  "Oh, I think you are," Kim answered. Noel's protagonist was growing on her. "I really got into the part where they were hiding in the museum all night." She reached down and scooped Cody into her arms. Now that the little boy had mastered walking, he was constantly on the go, and Noel's apartment was not particularly child-safe.

  "Did you?" Noel beamed, and his open need for approval made her like him more than she already did. "I wanted to add some accurate details about the museum, but I left my book on the Smithsonian at Jessie's house. It describes the Natural History Museum, floor by floor." Noel shook a cigarette from the pack on his desk. "Actually, I was wondering if you might be able to pick it up for me. I called Jess about it but she said she'd rather I didn't stop by myself."

  "Sure," Kim said. "I'll ask her for it."

  Noel lit the cigarette, then picked up a check from his desk and handed it to her, his expression pensive. "Have you seen Jessie lately?" he asked. "She sounded so down on the phone."

  "Well, I think she goes into a funk every once in a while. She's still very sad about the accident… and about you, I think."

  "I suppose she told you why we split up?"

  Kim wondered if she should have kept her mouth shut. "She said she wasn't comfortable with your drinking." Cody struggled to get out of her arms, and she tightened her grip on him.

  Noel made a sound of disgust. "She's making a problem out of nothing," he said. "She and Adam went on this no-alcohol kick after the accident. Like that's going to bring Dana and the kids back, right?"

  Kim shrugged uncomfortably. She had nothing against Noel, but she could only admire Jessie for her decision.

  Cody intensified his wriggling and pouting, and she felt as if she were trying to hold on to a bag of jumping beans. "He's getting restless," she said, as she took a couple of steps toward the door. "I'll try to get that book for you tonight."

  "That'd be great." Noel carried the next installment of his manuscript down the metal stairs for her and said good-bye to her at her car.

  She was anxious to get to Adam's house. For the first time, she'd had a dream she could use. She'd gotten out of bed that morning and sketched quickly and quietly, listening to Cody as he babbled to himself in his crib.

  Turning off Noel's street she came to a stop sign. She stepped on the brake, but her car gave no sign of slowing down. Panicked, she pressed harder, finally coming to an uncertain stop in the middle of the intersection. From the corner of her eye, she spotted a black station wagon speeding toward her from the right. She pressed on the gas pedal with all her strength, pulling out of the intersection just in time to avoid a collision, but not the horn-blaring wrath of the other driver.

  Her heart racing, she carefully turned the car around and headed home, driving very slowly. Her brakes felt spongy and soft as she pulled to a stop in front of the house, and she swiveled in her seat to look at her son. "Are you all right, Cody?" she asked. She felt shaky and sick, but Cody smiled at her, unaware that he should be anything other than all right.

  Her arms trembled as she carried him up the sidewalk to the house. There was no doubt in her mind that if she had stopped in that intersection one second later, she and Cody would be dead. If Cody had been with Jim and Peggy, however, riding around in their perfectly tuned BMW instead of in her second-hand bargain, he would never have been in danger.

  And if she and Cody had been killed, how would Linc ever find out? That thought was so distressing that she had to blink back tears as she climbed the stairs to her apartment. It hurt every time she remembered that quiet, solemn ride with Linc to the airport, when she'd been longing to work out some way of communicating with him, while he'd been thinking of how untenable their relationship had become. Would he say anything to her through his choice of music on Sunday night? If he didn't, she knew she would have to accept his decision to move on without her. She could hardly blame him.

  She called Adam and told him she couldn't come over because of the problem with her car, and she was pleased when he offered to pick her up. He was at her door within minutes.

  "Is there some place I can take it where they won't rip me off?" she asked on the drive to his house.

  "Yeah," Adam said. "You can let me fix it."

  "No, I couldn't."

  "Yes, ma'am. I've always done the work on my car. Jessie's too. If you can wait till the weekend, I can work on it then."

  "Really, Adam? That would be wonderful." She would have to find some way to repay him. "I really appreciate you picking me up. I had a dream last night."

  He grinned at her. "I told you it would happen."

  "It took place in a park," she said. "I think it was the park where I take Cody to play, but it had all these rays of sunlight coming through the trees. And there was this group of children playing in a circle on the ground." The dream was still vivid in her mind. "I don't know if I can paint the children, though."

  "Save them for last," Adam said, as he turned into his driveway. "Although I have complete faith in your ability, especially when it comes to painting people."

  They ate Adam's homemade minestrone soup for dinner, then Kim put Cody to bed and joined Adam in his studio. He was well into his painting—a tree-lined road leading to a lake dotted with sailboats—and she was inspired by his creation to get to work on
her own. The minutes ticked by unnoticed as she transferred her dream of the night before from her mind to the canvas.

  "The dream artists," Adam said after a while, as he glanced over at her work. "You are getting damn good."

  "Thanks." Kim took a step back to look at her canvas, and for the first time, she thought she truly deserved his compliment.

  "You know why you suddenly had a great dream, don't you?" Adam asked now, as he worked on one of the sailboats.

  "Why?"

  "Because you feel freer now that you've told me everything. You have nothing to hide anymore, at least not from me."

  "Maybe," she said. It did help that Adam knew the truth about her. Adam seemed to have taken the news in and then tucked it away, where it could do her no harm. She knew it tied her to him, though, and every once in awhile that thought frightened her. She must never make an enemy of Adam. If at some point their relationship came to an end, she would have to be certain it did not end badly.

  There was another reason she felt freer the past few days: the information from the computer was finally in the hands of the police. She had seen nothing about the police's receipt of the list in the papers or on the news, however, and hoped they were keeping it quiet in order to catch the bomber before he could harm the next victim.

  She wouldn't have said she felt totally free, though. Anyone who, despite the presence of a deadbolt, slept with an end table in front of her door, who looked over her shoulder several times a day, wondering if the man keeping pace with her across the street might be the private investigator, or worse, the previous owner of her computer, and who kept her duffel bag still packed and ready to go at a moment's notice, could not claim to be free.

  Adam walked over to the cupboard to get a rag. On the way back to his canvas, he stopped behind her, putting his arms around her waist.

  "I think you have to stay here tonight," he said. "I refuse to drive you home."

  She leaned back against him. She had not slept with him since her return to Annapolis. She'd been holding tight to her memory of Saturday night with Linc.

  "Maybe," she said, remembering that Linc had held her this way at the zoo in Philadelphia. She brushed the thought quickly from her mind.

  "I love the idea of waking up with you, now that you're dreaming," Adam nuzzled her ear. "Both our heads will be packed with dreams, and we'll grab our sketchbooks in the morning and fill page after page after page."

  "All right," she said with a smile. "But can you take me home early in the morning? Noel gave me another chunk of his novel this afternoon." She suddenly remembered the book Noel had asked her to pick up. "Is Jessie coming over tonight?" she asked. "Noel wanted me to get a book he left at her house." She realized she had not seen Jessie all week.

  Adam let go of her with a sigh and walked back to his own canvas. "I doubt it," he said. "She's been under the weather. I took her some of the minestrone. I don't think she's been out in days. Just hangs around her house, watching her kittens grow."

  "Does she have a cold or something?"

  "No. I think she's just depressed."

  Kim put her brush in the jar of water in the sink. "I'm going over to say hi to her and pick up Noel's book." She stopped at the top of the stairs and looked at Adam. "I worry that she's mad at me because you and I are…together."

  "She doesn't blame you." Adam didn't turn around from his canvas. "She blames me."

  Kim started down the stairs. "Will you listen for Cody while I'm gone?" she called behind her.

  "I'll listen for Cody and warm up the bed."

  There were lights burning in the house next door, but Kim still had to knock several times before Jessie answered the door.

  "Hi." Jessie smiled at her, but her face was gray. She was wearing a pale blue chenille robe and her feet were bare.

  "Hi, Jess," Kim said. "Can I come in for a minute?"

  "Sure." Jessie let her in, and Kim walked into the living room. There was an almost imperceptible aroma of cat box in the air, but given the fact that Jessie owned a full grown cat and five kittens, it did not seem too bad.

  "How are the kittens doing?"

  "Good." Jessie sat on the arm of her sofa. "And how's my brother doing?"

  It felt like a trick question. "He's fine," she said, although Adam seemed far better than fine. She didn't want to rub Jessie's nose in the fact that her brother was doing better than she was.

  She noticed a box of pictures on the coffee table in front of the sofa. A few of the photographs were spread haphazardly on the table top, and Kim could see that one of them was a five-by-seven of Molly and Liam. She wouldn't be surprised if all of the pictures in the box were of the children, and she wondered if Jessie had been tormenting herself with them all week. She pulled her gaze back to Jessie's face.

  "Noel asked me to pick up a book he left over here. Is that okay with you?"

  Jessie pointed toward the floor to ceiling bookshelf next to the fireplace. "His are on the third and fourth shelves down."

  Kim walked over to the shelves and, after a moment's search, found the book on the Smithsonian that Noel had requested. She pulled it from the shelf, then looked at Jessie, still gray-faced and perched on the arm of the couch.

  "I haven't seen you in days," Kim said.

  Jessie shrugged. "I have major PMS," she said. "Not fit to be around."

  "Are you angry with me?"

  Jessie looked surprised. "Why would I be?"

  "Because of Adam. You thought he should still be grieving, and instead he—"

  "No," Jessie interrupted her. "I'm not mad. Just grumpy as hell."

  "Well, I hope you feel better soon." Kim felt like hugging her, but something held her back. She hated leaving Jessie alone with that box of pictures. "Why don't you come over for awhile? We could watch a movie or—"

  "No, thanks, Kim. My bed is calling."

  Kim was reluctant to let her off that easily, but she didn't know what else she could say.

  "Well, if you change your mind, come on over," she said.

  She checked on Cody once she was back in Adam's house, then climbed into his bed, with its dark sheets and light feather comforter. Adam was in the bathroom, and she could hear him singing, although she couldn't make out the tune. She tucked her sketchbook beneath the bed, lay down, and closed her eyes.

  Like magic, an idea came to her for the painting she was working on. She sat up, retrieved the sketchbook, and grabbed her pencil from the top of the night table.

  She'd barely gotten a few lines on the paper before the point of her pencil snapped off.

  Optimistically, she pulled open the night table drawer in search of another pencil, but the drawer was completely empty. Leaning across the bed, she opened the drawer to Adam's night table, then drew back with a yelp. Poking out from beneath a few sheets of paper and a couple of receipts was the unmistakable steely gray nose of a gun. Kim stared at it, instantly transported back to her parents' bedroom and her father's night table.

  She closed the drawer gingerly with her fingertips as Adam came into the room. He leaned over to kiss her, then stood back with a frown. "What's wrong?" he asked.

  "I opened your night table drawer to look for a pencil and saw a gun," she said.

  He looked briefly surprised. "Oh, jeez, I forgot it was there," he said. "Let me get rid of it right now."

  He opened the drawer and lifted out the gun, handling it with ease. Kim cowered in the bed as he carried it to the closet. She watched him slip it onto the end of one of the overhead shelves.

  "There," he said. "Now it's out of our way. I'm sorry."

  She was still shaken. She wished the gun were out of the house entirely. Better yet, she wished Adam didn't own it.

  "Is it loaded?" she asked.

  "No. At least, not anymore."

  She shuddered. "I hate guns. Why do you have it?"

  He let out a long sigh. "Do I have to say?"

  "If you want me to sleep easy tonight, yes."

 
He lay down and took her with him, his arm around her shoulders. "I bought it shortly after the accident, because, frankly…I was considering killing myself."

  She put her arm across his chest. "Oh," she said. "I'm very glad you didn't."

  "Yes, so am 1.1 didn't do it because of Jessie. That was the only reason. Jessie was so despondent. I knew I couldn't do that to her. She knows I own the gun, but she doesn't know I'd ever considered using it on myself, and I'd appreciate it if you never told her."

  "I won t."

  "So now we know each other's secrets, huh?" he said.

  "Mine's a little heavier than yours."

  "Well." He raised himself up on his elbow and ran his hand gently over her cheek. "Your secret is safe with me."

  They spent the weekend together, dragging Jessie out for dinner on Saturday night and taking Cody to the park and for a couple of long walks, but most of their time was spent immersed in their painting. So much so that the brakes on her car did not get repaired. Adam promised to work on them first thing Monday morning, and Kim went home late Sunday afternoon, looking forward to spending the evening with Linc—or at least, with Linc's voice. Five minutes into his show, though, someone knocked on her door.

  She jumped out of bed and ran to the window. No police car. She walked quietly to the door.

  "Who's there?" she asked.

  "It's me." It was Adam's voice, and she pulled the door open to find him standing on the landing, a toolbox in one hand, a huge, boxy flashlight in the other.

  "Oh, good," he said, "I was hoping to catch you before you started your pampering session."

  Linc's voice was no more than a murmur in the air behind her. She couldn't make out a word he was saying.

  "Did I wake you up?" Adam looked at her curiously.

  "Oh, no. Sorry. Come in." She let him in, knowing there was no alternative short of rudeness.

  "I should have called first, but I thought I'd take a chance. Cherise wants me to go to D.C. with her tomorrow, so I was hoping I could work on your car tonight."

  "In the dark?"