The Escape Artist

  "Well, I'll need you to hold the light for me."

  A dozen thoughts ran through her head. What excuse could she give him? She thought of asking him if he could wait until Tuesday, but that would leave her without a car the following day. Plus, it was hardly fair of her to dictate when he should work on the car, since he was doing it for free. She could bring the radio outside with them, but Adam would probably realize that Linc Sebastian was the man she'd met in Philadelphia. She should never have told Adam that her old lover had gotten a message to her through a radio show.

  "Kim? Are you sure you're awake?" Adam was smiling at her, and she shook her head as if clearing away the cobwebs.

  "Yes," she said. "I'm fine. Let me get my jacket and make sure Cody's asleep, and I'll meet you down there, okay?"

  "Okay. Bring a roll of paper towels, will you?"

  Cody was sleeping like an angel, and Linc was in the middle of a set of Donovan songs. She felt like crying as she put on her jacket and started down the stairs, leaving the radio playing softly behind her.

  Adam needed her for more than holding the light. He had her sit in the car, pumping the brakes until her leg ached. She stared at the car radio, wishing she could turn it on. A few times she went back to the apartment to "check on Cody," but if Linc was talking to her, through his own words or through the music, she was not getting the message.

  "There," Adam said as he finally crawled out from under the car. "That should do it. Let's take it around the block once and see how they feel."

  "I can tell they feel tight now," she said from behind the steering wheel, her foot on the brake. "We don't need to drive it." There was still a half hour left of Songs for the Asking.

  "Yes, we do. Just to make sure. I'll stay here and listen for Cody, and you take it around the block. Then you can have your bath."

  He grinned at her as if he'd discerned her secret. "I know that's what you're dying to do."

  She looked at him apologetically. "I really appreciate this, Adam," she said. "I'm sorry if I haven't seemed like I do."

  He waved her off, and she drove down the street, knowing it would be quicker to drive around the block than to argue about it. The brakes were fine, and she was soon back at the curb in front of her apartment.

  Adam was waiting for her on the porch steps. He gave her a little wave, and even from the road, she could see the car grime on his hands.

  He's a good man, she thought. He must have been a terrific husband and father. And he could be a significant part of her life, if she could only let go of her addiction to that voice on the radio.

  "They're perfect," she said as she approached the porch steps, and she leaned forward to kiss him. "Thank you so much. Do you want to come in for a little while?" She had to offer. She couldn't simply send him on his way.

  "No." He walked down the steps and stood next to her. "No, I know you're anxious to have some time to yourself." He gave her a hug. "How late can I call you tomorrow night? I'm not sure what time we'll get back from D.C."

  "Eleven?"

  "Okay. I'll talk to you then."

  Upstairs, she flopped down on her bed and listened as Linc wrapped up his show. She'd expected at least to be able to hear him play "Suzanne," but he closed with yet another Donovan song. She listened carefully to the words, hunting for some personal meaning in them but coming away with none, and by the time she turned off the radio, she was in tears.

  –32–

  "Thank you so much, Kim," Lucy switched off the tape recorder lying on Kim's coffee table. "Your candor is going to make this a good article."

  The interview had been relatively painless. From her seat on the sofa, Kim had slipped into her "I'm Kim Stratton" mode and answered Lucy's questions with ease. She wondered, though, if candor and honesty were truly the same thing.

  "Just promise me that you'll give us interesting names," she said.

  "I've already come up with names for you." Lucy flipped open a notebook. "I always try to pick names my readers can relate to. I'm going to call you Laura, and Cody, Tyler."

  "What?" Kim felt the color drain from her face.

  "Laura's a common name, and the name Tyler is very popular right now. A lot of women will be able to see their own little boy in him."

  Kim's hands clutched the edge of the seat cushion. She knew she'd better choose her words carefully. "Do you think you could pick another name for Cody?" she asked. "A friend of mine had a Tyler and he was a horrible little kid." She expected to have to explain herself further, but Lucy seemed unperturbed.

  "How about Matthew, then? Matthew's always a good name."

  "I like Matthew," Kim said. The phone rang, and she rose to answer it. "Thanks for indulging me," she said over her shoulder as she walked into the kitchen.

  "Hello?" she said into the phone.

  "Ms. Stratton?"

  The formal-sounding, unfamiliar voice put her on guard. "Yes?

  "This is Barb Kotter from Kotter Enterprises?"

  The company name was vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it.

  "We received your brochure regarding word processing," the woman continued.

  "Oh, yes," she said.

  "Well, we're in a bit of a bind," the woman said. "We have an urgent job and the person who usually does our word processing for us is ill. Is there a chance you could come over for a quick interview? I know it's nearly five, and this is terribly late notice, but—"

  "Yes. I can do that." She glanced at Cody. He was sitting on the living room floor, playing with the activity box Linc had given him. She wanted to ask if she could bring her baby along, but thought better of it. She had a feeling people didn't bring their children to interviews at Kotter Enterprises.

  "Oh, that would be wonderful," the woman said. "I can only be here another hour, though. Can you make it before then?"

  "Yes." She wrote down the address and got off the phone, wondering if she had time to change into a skirt and put on some makeup. "I have a job interview," she said to Lucy. "Right now. They're in a bind."

  Lucy stood up from the sofa. "Let me watch Cody for you," she offered.

  Kim looked down at her son. He was opening and closing the little red door on the activity box, oblivious to her dilemma. She chewed her lip.

  Lucy let out an exasperated sound. "I'll have to remember to include how overprotective some single mothers can be when I write the article," she said. "Come on, Kim. Cody and I will be fine."

  "You're sure you don't mind? I shouldn't be long."

  "You run and get dressed." Lucy prodded her on the shoulder. "Hurry up, now."

  Kotter Enterprises was located on the third story of an office building near the water. The building was clean and modern, but it seemed deserted, and Kim found herself glancing over her shoulder as she made her way to Barb Kotter's office. She was thoroughly glad she'd left Cody at home. Given the formality of the setting, she doubted a baby would be seen as a cute accompaniment to her interview.

  Barb Kotter probably wouldn't have cared, though. Desperation showed in the woman's face. She asked Kim a few perfunctory questions, looked greatly relieved, and handed her a pile of work to be returned in two days. Kim would have to put everything else on hold, but she knew she could get the work done. And then she'd have a new client as well as a good reference.

  She saw the police car the second she turned on to her street. It was parked in front of Ellen's house, and she pulled close to the curb several houses away, her heart in her throat. From where she sat, there didn't appear to be anyone sitting in the car. There were lights on all through the house, in Ellen's first story as well as in her apartment and Lucy's. "Cody and I will be fine," Lucy had promised. Had she called the cops the second Kim was out the door?

  She had to get to her son. She parked behind the police car and ran up the front walk and onto the porch. Racing up the stairs, she reached the landing as the police officer was emerging from Lucy's apartment. Lucy stood behind him, Cody in her arms.


  "Here's mommy now," the policeman said.

  Kim was trembling as she reached past him for Cody. Lucy relinquished her hold on the little boy without protest.

  "How did the interview go?" Lucy asked.

  "Is something wrong?" Kim looked from Lucy to the policeman and back again.

  The officer laughed. "Wherever I go, people think there's something wrong."

  "Not a thing, honey. This is Frank Ragland. Frank, this is Kim Stratton."

  Frank touched Cody's cheek lightly. "You have a good-looking boy there," he said.

  She couldn't answer. She was so nervous, her teeth were chattering, and she wrapped her arms more tightly around her son.

  "I'll be in touch, Lucy," Frank said as he headed down the stairs.

  Lucy smiled after him, then turned to Kim. "You get in here and tell me all about your interview. It must have been terrible. You're white as a sheet. Do you want a cup of tea?"

  Kim followed her into the apartment. Her legs were about to give out, and she sank into a chair. "I just… when I saw the police car in front of the house, I thought that something might have happened to Cody."

  Lucy set a pot of water on the stove and shook her head. "You are the most overanxious mother I've ever seen," she said. "That little boy's going to grow up afraid of his own shadow if you don't start to relax about him."

  "But…then what's going on? Why were the police here? Did you hear another noise?"

  Lucy sat down with a great sigh. "No. No noise," she said. "And it's a little embarrassing for me to talk about. I'd appreciate it if you could keep it to yourself. Okay?"

  Kim nodded. Cody squirmed out of her lap, and she reluctantly let him go.

  "Frank and I are…involved."

  "Oh." Kim sat back. She had not expected that.

  "He's the reason I left my marriage, as well as the reason my children no longer want anything to do with me. I had a terrible marriage, from day one, as I told you. A loveless, dishonest sort of existence. But I stuck it out, because…well in my generation, that's what you were supposed to do. Life was not a bowl of cherries and you just accepted it. And I did, for thirty-six years, until I met Frank. Suddenly a man treated me like I was a human being. I'd forgotten what it felt like to be taken seriously by someone on a personal level. Professionally, I was taken seriously all the time. But this was different. I realized then that I'd been a doormat, both for my husband and my kids. They walked all over me. Frank gave me the strength to do something about it. So I left." She pursed her lips. "It was not a popular decision. Now I've been cut off from everybody."

  "Maybe that's temporary," Kim suggested. "They'll come around in time. Your kids are bound to realize you did the right thing."

  "I doubt it. But it's my fault, actually. I did everything for them. They were spoiled. They still expect everything to be done for them, even though they're all old enough to know better. They expect me to sacrifice my happiness for theirs. So this is the price I pay for happiness."

  "I'm sorry." Kim watched Cody as he explored the bowl of blocks in the middle of Lucy's living room floor. She wondered if happiness always had to come with a price tag.

  "Frank makes it worthwhile, though." Lucy's eyes lit up. "He's good looking, don't you think? Did you see how blue his eyes are?"

  Kim hadn't noticed, but she nodded. She felt a little giddy. The cops didn't have a clue who she was. Her paranoia had been unfounded. And so, as Lucy went on and on about her boyfriend and his blue eyes, she listened in numb relief.

  –33–

  "Some mornings, I wake up and think it's all a bad dream." Bonnie Higgins wiped her eyes with a ragged tissue.

  Peggy reached across the desk to hand her another. Her concentration was even worse than usual today. Bill Anderson had called prior to her appointment with Bonnie to tell her that Missing Persons was moving its parental kidnapping show up by several months. "This Wednesday night, to be exact," Bill had said. He'd gone on to explain the reason for the show's change in schedule, but she hadn't listened. She didn't care. All she knew was that, in a few days, Tyler and Susanna's pictures would be splashed across the country. Someone was bound to recognize them. She wasn't certain why that realization didn't give her more of a thrill than it did.

  "I mean, how do you explain it?" Bonnie asked. "First everything seems fine. Then all of a sudden, he wants out. Then I find out he's been seeing his…skanky secretary. And now he says he wants the kids. My life's falling apart."

  Peggy forced her attention back to her client, who had not stopped crying since entering the office thirty minutes earlier. Her husband was now fighting actively for their two children, Bonnie had said, and he'd even threatened to steal them, although he denied saying as much to his own attorney, whom Peggy had promptly called.

  Peggy had felt close to tears herself a few times during her appointment with Bonnie, despite the encouraging news from Bill. The threatened kidnapping hit a little too close to home, and there was no way she would let what had happened to her happen to one of her clients. She leaned toward Bonnie. "Your husband is not getting the children, legally or otherwise," she said firmly.

  "But he—"

  "Has he done anything that might indicate he's planning to take off? Has he quit his job, for example? Closed out a bank account? Sold a car?"

  "Not that I know of."

  "Good." Of course, they'd had no indication at all that Susanna was about to run, either. "You need to do a few things," Peggy said. "Your kids are…" She looked down at her notes.

  "Four and five," Bonnie said.

  "Do they know how to use the telephone?"

  "Yes."

  "Teach them how to make a collect call, and tell them they can call you that way any time they want to."

  "I don't even know how to make a collect call."

  "But you're going to learn how and teach them, right?"

  "Okay."

  "And first chance you get—today—you need to contact their day care provider and…is the older one in school yet?"

  "They're both in preschool."

  "Let the preschool know that their father has threatened kidnapping. And we're going to modify your custody order. We'll restrict visitation and say he can't take the children out of Boulder."

  She spent another half hour with Bonnie, discussing what they could do to prevent her children from suffering the same fate as Tyler. Peggy loved experiencing that sense of power, that feeling that she could actually do something to prevent Bonnie's husband from taking off with the children. By the time she left Legal Aid after Bonnie's appointment, though, she was drained.

  She drove to Ron's office. She had called her brother early that morning, telling him she couldn't bear the silence between them any longer. When he suggested they take a walk together after work, she'd readily agreed.

  "He's still with patients," Ron's receptionist told her when Peggy walked into the waiting room. "Have a seat."

  She took a seat, leafing idly through a magazine, until Ron emerged from the rear of his office. He was already dressed in his sweats.

  "Hi, Sis." He gave her a kiss as she stood up. "It's good to see you."

  "You too." She hugged him. She wanted this to be a healing visit, and she was determined to keep the conversation off Tyler. She'd steer clear of anything that might feed into conflict with her brother. She missed him too badly to risk alienating him again.

  His office was close to Cuyamaca Park, and they set out in that direction. They talked about Ron's work and his kids, the plans for his vacation, and the movies he'd seen recently. Peggy hadn't heard of any of them. She'd been living in a vacuum for the past couple of months.

  "So enough about me," Ron said finally. "How are things going in the search for Tyler?"

  She hesitated. "I wasn't going to talk about him," she said. "You made it pretty clear you'd rather not discuss the situation with me."

  Ron put his arm around her. "I'm sorry if I made you feel that way," he said. "I don't w
ant you to feel as though you have to censor what you say to me."

  "Well, I do have some good news, I think."

  "What's that?"

  She described Bill Anderson's call. Ron pursed his lips as he listened to her, and she was certain he was trying hard not to respond in a way that might upset her. She appreciated the effort.

  "Well," he said, when she had finished, "I just hope that all parties concerned come out of this none the worse for wear."

  It was an ambiguous statement, to say the least, but she decided not to press him on what he meant by it.

  "So, what's new at Legal Aid?" He changed the topic.

  Again, she hesitated. The only Legal Aid case occupying her mind was Bonnie's, and she wasn't certain she could safely discuss that particular case with him.

  "Well," she began, "I saw a woman this afternoon whose case really gets to me. But I don't know if I should talk to you about it, because it reminds me of what we're going through with Tyler."

  "I just told you not to censor what you say to me," Ron chastised her.

  They were walking uphill, and Peggy spoke between taking gulps of air. "It started out as a simple divorce case," she said. "The woman's husband told her he wanted a divorce. She was distraught, but ready to learn how to protect herself legally. Then she found out her husband had been having an affair with his secretary, so she was hurt and angry. Now he says he's going after the kids, and he's alluded to the fact that, if she puts up a fight, he'll kidnap them, although he's denied he's said it. But I believe her and—"

  "Let me get this straight." Ron dug his hands into his pants pockets. "You're relating to this case because the husband might kidnap his kids?"

  "Yes."

  He shook his head. "You just don't get it, do you, Peg?" he asked. "For a smart woman, you can be pretty dense."

  "What are you talking about?" She hated the tone of his voice and braced herself for whatever he might say next.

  "This sounds very familiar to me. Her husband had an affair, and now he's threatening to get custody of the children. Your sympathies are with her, but your client is to her children as Susanna is to Tyler. The betrayed wife about to lose custody of her children to her cheating husband and his new girlfriend."