Checked out, p.4
Checked Out, page 4
Peri’s breath caught. In parka and boots and brandishing a bookend, Lisette Osborne was fierce. She found herself in that space between fear and admiration that was as uncomfortable as it was unnameable.
Color was coming back into Lisette’s face. “Agent Garritsen! You scared the life out of me!”
“I truly apologize. When the alarm didn’t stop I thought I could have a closer look to see if there was something to tell 9-1-1, like perps loading your computers into unmarked vans.”
Still holding the bookend aloft, Lisette admitted, “It’s a flaw in the security sensors. Don’t tell.”
“Scout’s honor.”
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Were you really a scout?”
“Of course.”
“Why of course?”
“My grandmother was a scout, two aunts were scouts, my mother was a scout, and my sister was a scout. Former Girl Scouts quietly run the world. Or should,” she amended. “And not that quietly.”
Lisette looked at the bookend clutched in her hand, then set it down on the nearest computer desk. “Thank you for your vigilance, then. Can I drive you back to the motel? Two blocks of blizzard is a lot of snow.”
“I’d appreciate that. I didn’t have the best choice in gear.”
“All the more gallant a gesture.”
“Or foolhardy.”
She gave Peri an innocent glance. “I’d never say that.”
“But you might think it?”
A quiet singsong mm-mm accompanied a shrug of her shoulders as she led the way back to the main doors. Peri averted her eyes as Lisette punched in the code to lock the building down again.
The snow was no longer flurries — it was a blanket of falling white. Peri could make out Lisette’s Jeep at the bottom of the ramp, now sporting six inches on the hood. In spite of firmly gripping the handrail, she skated the final foot, sending her heart rate soaring, which set off the pain-pill-didn’t-catch-in-time headache. Hiding a wince, she pulled the passenger door shut but it didn’t latch because her arms were shaking with fatigue.
“You really have to mean it.” Lisette slammed her door, making the Jeep rock.
Peri slammed the door as hard as she could manage, and the ache spread across her shoulders. Thankfully the door latched. “Are you going to make it home okay in this weather?”
“It doesn’t look like it.” She sighed. “It’s five miles, and the combination of glaze and ice means it’ll take forty minutes at least. I’ll probably be still a half mile away when I high-center, and I don’t want to get stuck.” After carefully setting the Jeep in gear and slowly navigating onto the street, Lisette added, “And if I get stuck, everybody who wanted to help me would get stuck. And I don’t relish Sansa having to haul me out tomorrow. I’ll get a room at the motel and call myself lucky to have dinner already eaten.”
“I’m guessing a tow won’t come out on a night like this.”
“They’re not the fools that librarians and government agents are.”
The smile Peri could see by the light of the dashboard was teasing. It sent a welcome easing of warmth through her, but not enough to end the shakes and shivers. “That seems wise. There was nothing in the weather forecast that led me to expect this.” She gestured at the almost solid wall of white.
“I’m embarrassed to say I’m as surprised as you are. Somebody’s algorithms or whatever were way off.”
Peri appreciated Lisette’s firm grip on the wheel. She’d driven in snow, but Lisette was better at it, no doubt. How she could see the turn-in to the motel at this point Peri didn’t know, but she did, rolling slowly to a stop near the motel office. Peri’s room was only two doors away.
“Be careful,” she warned as Peri opened the door. “There’s glaze and ice, and it’s a dangerous combination.”
Her tone was that of a mother hen, but Peri was reluctant to think of her in a maternal context. “Thanks for the lift back.”
They went their separate ways. At the door to her room, Peri glanced toward the motel office to see Lisette had reached it. She was glancing at Peri as if to ensure she was safely to her room. In spite of the fire spreading through her shoulders and ribs, Peri found herself smiling and nodding good night.
PART TWO
Dashing through the Snow
CHAPTER SEVEN
LISETTE WATCHED AGENT GARRITSEN’S door close then turned the knob to go into the motel office.
It didn’t budge.
Of course. How distracted had she been not to have connected that obvious dot? Ted and Dan had reasonably surmised that there would be no new customers and gone home because they were smart human beings.
Well, she couldn’t sleep in the Jeep — she’d freeze long before morning. The library was a possibility. She had a spare jacket in her office, and she could probably scare up some more from Lost and Found. She could turn on the gas-powered fireplace and doze in one of the nearby chairs, though she’d rather be in her office behind another locked door.
She gazed longingly into the parted curtains of the room immediately adjacent to the motel office. It was clearly unoccupied, but she wasn’t about to break the lock. She had taken two steps toward her car when she slipped. She caught herself on a window box, but not before she’d let out of yelp of alarm. A few seconds later Peri’s door opened.
She peered at Lisette through the densely falling snowflakes. “Are you all right?”
“Fine. The footing is really bad. I was just trying to get back to the car.”
“No room at the inn?”
“Innkeepers are smarter than librarians and secret agents too.” She gave Peri a brave smile. “I can make myself comfortable at the library.”
“Probably.” She opened her door wider and stepped out with one foot on the sidewalk. “Listen — this will sound crazy.” She brushed at snowflakes already attaching themselves to her shirtsleeve.
Lisette sidled closer so she wouldn’t have to shout, keeping a death grip on the window box. “I think we can agree that ‘crazy’ has been on the agenda tonight.”
“My room has two beds and I promise, I’m harmless.”
Lisette believed her. Though the agent’s instinctive gesture toward her weapon at the mere squeal of brakes was burned into Lisette’s brain, she had no reason to think the woman was dangerous. She’d had her fill of the aggressive, manipulative alpha types, this was true, and Peri had “alpha” written all over her. For now, at least, Peri’s injuries had muted it.
The cold night had turned the light blue, but even so, Peri’s pallor had increased just in the past few minutes. Lisette suspected she would have no trouble knocking Peri down without resorting to any of her self-defense training. “I don’t want to impose, but I’m also not an idiot.”
“I’ll be bad company, which might be for the best.” Peri gestured at the scar angling across her eye and temple, now livid red from the cold. “I’ll be taking a pain pill in a few minutes and out for six hours. Eight hours if there’s a merciful God.”
The prospect of walking or driving back to the library was daunting. Her boots, as functional as they were cute, easily tromped over a couple of inches, but she lacked traction for greater depths. The question was, if found out by powers that be, would sharing a motel room compromise — for either of them — the arms-length distance required by their respective jobs?
Lisette had already given too much of her life to fending off a warrantless FBI inquiry. Weeks of her life, at the worst possible time, and the agent-in-charge had known how desperately Lisette had wanted to be home with her mother.
In the few moments she had pondered the decision, snowflakes had begun sticking to her lashes and melting on her nose. What real choice did she have?
“All right and thank you. That’s very generous.” She slid to the Jeep and got her purse and satchel, which had her current mystery read but, alas, no change of clothes.
Peri’s motel room smelled of toothpaste and soap. The bed farther from the door was already turned down. A pink pill and glass of water waited on the nightstand. Lisette set her things down on the other bed as Peri excused herself to the bathroom.
While Peri was gone Lisette quietly tried the adjoining door. Locked, darn it. Alrighty, she thought. This is awkward.
The bathroom door opened, and Peri emerged in boxers and a tight-fitting plain white T-shirt. Lisette absolutely did not stare, at least she tried not to. Still, it wasn’t hard to take note of the small firm breasts and remnants of toned calf muscles before Peri slid between the sheets of her own bed. She moved as if everything hurt, and Lisette’s earlier impression that Peri’s left shoulder didn’t move easily was confirmed when Peri used only her right arm to get settled. It wasn’t scarred, but some kind of damage went deep.
Lisette took advantage of the bathroom facilities and emerged to find Peri’s side of the room already dark.
“I took a pill earlier, but it didn’t really take. This one will put me out.”
Glad of the semi-darkness, Lisette found a teasing tone. “Agent Garritsen, I’m certain my virtue is not at risk.”
“I am a lesbian, but as you’ve seen I’m not jumping anything these days.”
“I thought earlier that I could probably knock you down without using any of the self-defense my father took great pains to teach me.”
“Sounds like a wise man.”
“That’s the truest thing you’ve said all day, Agent Garritsen.”
“It wouldn’t be weird right now to ask you to call me Peri, would it?”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “No, it’s not weird. Call me Lisette. Is it weird if I tell you I’m also a lesbian?”
Her voice growing more slurred by the moment, Peri said, “The boots lied.”
“What’s wrong with my boots?” She loved her purple ankle boots.
“Nothing at all. I thought they were, um, damn shoulder hurts and…”
Peri’s entire body relaxed all at once, the angles of her elbows and ankles melting into the mattress.
Lisette puttered as long as possible and finally tiptoed over to her own bed. When she was sure the little beeps wouldn’t wake up Peri, she sent a text to Sansa with the bare facts that she hadn’t made it home but was safe at the Sleep E-Z.
Peri sighed in her sleep. As Lisette watched, one clenched hand relaxed its grip on the blanket and slid to her side.
Whatever had injured Peri had indeed taken a toll. Lisette was glad that the painkillers worked, but she knew they were a double-edged blessing if taken for too long.
She quietly slid out of her dress and folded it at the foot of the bed. Her slip would serve as a nightgown. Taking her bra off released the tension of the day, and it seemed likely that she’d get some sleep, perhaps not a lot. She’d always been a light sleeper.
The bed warmed nicely, thanks to Ted and Dan’s thick comforters. After a few pages of her novel she turned out the light and drifted to sleep.
# # #
Heart racing, she knew that a voice had awakened her. She heard it again.
A strangled voice trying to speak but managing only guttural moans.
It was dark. She was in a strange place.
There’s a blizzard. The alarm. I got stuck.
She took a deep breath to calm herself. She was in the Sleep E-Z motel, sharing a room. The voice had to be Peri Garritsen’s.
Peri said something again into the dark, or rather she tried to. As Lisette’s eyes adjusted, she saw that Peri’s fists were clenched and face contorted with the effort to speak.
She turned on her light, but it didn’t waken her. Finally, she said quietly, “It’s okay. You’re having a bad dream.”
Peri’s eyes opened and Lisette could see the effort it took to unclench her jaw. “What?”
She wasn’t sure Peri was actually awake. “Go back to sleep, Peri.”
She nodded and shifted under the blankets. Her hands relaxed a little.
Lisette switched off the light.
Surprised to feel drowsy again herself, she didn’t hear Peri move before she fell back asleep. The next sound she was aware of was that of a rumbling plow, busy at work. The pale light seeping around the edge of the curtains said it was not much past dawn. If the plows were out, the snowfall had slowed or stopped. Finally, the weather people were getting it right.
Peri was still asleep, this time in a pose much more relaxed. One arm was flung to her side and a pillow had been smushed farther under her head. She didn’t stir as Lisette dressed and visited the bathroom. She spied the notepad on the desk next to the TV and left a brief missive before she quietly let herself out into the frigid morning air.
The plows were indeed busy. She started the Jeep and let it warm up while she scraped the windows. If the main streets were plowed, then the roads toward her house were probably plowed out too.
The plow driver turned into the parking lot and trundled behind her with blades shifted to clear a path for her to more easily reach the road. She waved thanks and was glad she didn’t have to get out a shovel. A few minutes later she was pointed toward home.
CHAPTER EIGHT
PERI READ THE NOTE from Lisette with feelings that were difficult to sort.
“Thank you for the shelter. You were restless during the night, but at no point was I anxious for my virtue.” She’d added a smiley face and signed with an “L.”
She’d been restless? No surprise there. Sometimes she woke with the sheets and blankets completely unanchored. She recalled now that a voice in the night had told her to go back to sleep. When she’d heard it, she’d wondered if she’d died, and an angel had taken charge of her afterlife. There had also been a chorus of angels with lilting women’s voices singing a lullaby. She’d felt safe and gone right back to sleep.
The thought of Lisette Osborne being the voice of heaven — Peri pictured her brandishing the bookend — was as amusing as it was disconcerting.
Yesterday had been exhausting. The totality of the activity paled next to the schedule and workout routine she’d kept in Pretoria, Madrid, Paris… Thinking about Paris brought a twinge of a headache, then her stomach growled. Exertion led to hunger. It was a welcome turn of events after having to force herself to eat for far too long.
The reheated barley soup didn’t dent her stomach’s complaints. She dressed in the gray sweats she’d shoved into her suitcase at the last minute, pulled on her coat and gloves, and stepped out into the sharp, cold day, hoping the diner was open.
Her first breath of the morning air shocked her lungs. For a moment it was painful, then curative.
This is what it feels like to treasure every breath. Dr. Shrink would be pleased that Peri was in the moment. It wasn’t as if the frigid temperature gave her a choice. The cold — and the light.
The light.
If Peri had ever thought much of deities she might have prayed in gratitude for the golden, hot light that transformed the snow-covered world. The pouring snow of last night had left fences, rooftops, and cars piled in crisp, clean, bright blankets. Evergreen branches cupped mounds of white. Bare limbs touched by sun were glazed with a magical shimmer.
A gust of cutting wind crossed the Village Green. Misting swirls of snow drifted from the boughs as if the trees were bakers dusting their cakes with powdered sugar.
The scene was postcard perfect, if you liked that sort of thing. For now, she unexpectedly rather did. Huh.
Two inches of snow in Atlanta shut down the town. Here the streets were already plowed out and the diner was open for business. Across the Village Green the library parking lot was already dotted with cars. Neither snow nor sleet, nor dark of night…
Eggs and piping hot coffee were her first thought as she took a seat at the counter. Somehow locally smoked bacon and a pecan waffle ended up in the order too. It was more than she’d eaten in a single sitting for going on eight weeks now.
The doctors, nurses, and therapists of all sorts, in Paris, then Germany, then stateside, all told her how lucky she was to have survived the blast. She’d lost her vitality, agility, and the white-hot focus that had made her good at her job. She might have told more than one to shove their “You’re lucky” crap.
The first bite of pecan waffle was crunchy and hot, and the sweet, dark syrup filled her head with the memory of Sunday mornings in her grandmother’s kitchen. At that moment it was the most perfect bite of food she’d ever had, and that included Gruyère soufflé in Paris.
It seemed possible that she might owe the medicos who’d put her back together an apology.
Looks like you’re going to live.
A second cup of coffee seemed a fine idea, and she listened to local patter about the surprise of the snowstorm and the general uselessness of weather forecasts. Everyone had a story to tell about how high the snow was in their driveway.
Small towns, Peri thought. She was willing to bet that the next snowstorm they’d pick up the conversation exactly where this one ended. While there was some comfort to be had in that certainty, it wasn’t her definition of stimulating. Even without a blizzard, the sidewalks in Norcester no doubt rolled up at sunset.
Just how many museum, theater, and fine art events did you go to in those big cities you love so much? How many dates?
That’s not the only kind of mental stimulation, she answered herself.
A person can read a book anywhere.
She nearly said, “Shut up” to herself out loud. She’d long been her own Devil’s Advocate — talking observations through in her head had always been useful to her. Right now the habit was annoying. It wasn’t as if she thought good lives weren’t had in backwater small towns, it just wasn’t how she personally defined “good.”
She went back to the motel to find the office still locked up. Her plan was to make her pitch to Lisette one more time, and if Lisette seemed unlikely to budge, she’d head home. Not that Philadelphia was home. She’d only been there since getting out of the hospital in Baltimore. The Philly office had agreed to keep her on light duty. The past few weeks had been excruciatingly boring. Her boss hadn’t finished the description of this assignment before she’d emphatically said, “Yes.”
