Eden's Dream (14 page)

His hands dropped to his sides. His eyes pleaded for understanding. “Would you believe me if I told you that I have no prior arrest record nor am I on the FBI's most-wanted list?”

This time she answered his question with a question. “Why should I?”

Her response apparently floored him. His bravado all but disappeared. He raised a tentative hand to grasp her arm. “Eden, we've been through hell and back together. By now, surely, you must have some sense of the type of person I am.”

Determined not to let emotions get in the way, she ignored both her fluttering stomach and fast beating heart. “What's a girl supposed to think? All I know is that you've lied to me over and over. First, you introduced yourself as Noel Robinson, and said you were a furniture designer whose best friend was killed in the Pelican crash. After I found some incriminating evidence telling me you weren't who you'd said you were, you reluctantly admitted to being Noah Robbins, reporter extraordinaire--”

Noah's smile filtered through. “I never said that—the extraordinaire part, that is.”

He was trying to make light of the situation, but she wasn't about to let him off the hot seat. She fixed him with a stony glare. “Don't try to play me.”

“I'm not. It would be useless. You've already made up your mind that I'm a criminal.”

He was right. She had tried and sentenced him. Every instinct told her he was hiding something.

Noah removed his wallet from his trouser pocket, rummaging through, he took out a business card. “Here,” he said, tucking the card into her palm. “Call Detective Young. He's one of the police officers we spoke with after the Zodiac sank. He'll vouch for me.”

Eden stared at the plain white card. Should she call his bluff? She doubted the police would agree to testify he was an upstanding citizen if he weren't on the level.

Still holding the card in hand, she forced herself to apologize. “Look, I'm sorry. It's just that I heard your name on the news, and I made the obvious assumption.”

“It's okay. You're forgiven,” Noah said, quickly. Too quickly. “Now tell me what happened to your mother.”

And although she knew he'd subtly shifted the conversation, she found that she needed to talk to someone, so she told him all about the call from her mother's next-door neighbor, Mrs. Moss. About how she suspected her mother's little mishap was no accident, ending with how scared she was. Ten minutes later when she began to cry in earnest, she let him wrap his arms around her.

T
hey were seated
in the passenger lounge of the American Airlines terminal. Eden, traveling standby, waited for a boarding pass. Noah, unbeknownst to Eden, had used his credentials to obtain a special gate pass and get through security. He'd told her as a journalist he received special dispensation.

“I'm going to miss you,” Noah said, snuggling her in his arms.

“Promise we'll stay in touch.” She traced his lips with her fingers, and a wave of desire flooded his belly. He couldn't let her walk out of his life like that. There was much too much unfinished business between them.

Impulsively, Noah added, “I'll do better than stay in touch. Perhaps I can drive your car back. You did say that you were having it trailered. That's probably costing you a bundle.” He tapped the pet carrier at Eden's feet. “Kahlua would enjoy a nice comfortable ride home instead of being stuck under some airplane seat.” As if to confirm the truth of his statement, the cat peered from between the metal grids, looking shell-shocked. She meowed pitifully. “Just look at my buddy. She's petrified. That's no way to treat a lady.” Noah pretended to glare at Eden, and then winked. “You didn't even tranquilize her.”

“I couldn't bear the thought.”

Sensing Eden weakening, Noah decided to press the issue. “Kahlua might be less scared if I drove her. If I get a friend to drive my car, we could form a caravan and see some of the good old U. S. of A. at the same time. How about it?”

“I'd hate to put you through that trouble.”

He almost had her. “No trouble at all, as long as you don't mind the mileage. Besides, I'll look forward to Kahlua's company. I love your cat—love her owner too.” Noah kissed Eden's cheek and buried his nose in her hair. The cloying smell of wildflowers filled his nostrils. It was getting more difficult to put her on that plane. “I'm going back to work in a week or so,” he muttered, attempting to disguise the frog in his throat. “It's not like New York's really out of my way. It's in the general vicinity of home.”

Startled cognac eyes flashed him silent questions. Her bottom lip quivered. “You report to an office? I'd assumed you were a freelance journalist.”

He would have to tell her the truth—and soon—before she found out from a stranger. Not now though, not when she was about to board a plane to see her injured mother. It would wait until the next time they met.

Funny, but before meeting Eden, he hadn't thought much about deception. He'd merely been a man with a mission, subscribing to the code, any means to an end. Ironically, that callous outlook had turned around to bite him. Now how to tell the woman he loved that he'd been stringing her along? That his entire life was a lie and he had a whole other identity? Eden would never understand his reasons when even he wasn't clear.

“I don't freelance,” he said, answering her question. He wrapped her tightly in his arms and held her trembling body close. “Shhhh. Relax. The flight will be over before you know it.”

Around them the sounds of shuffling feet and sniffling good-byes grew louder. The boarding process had begun.

Noah looked at the passengers at the gate. Students, professional types, and mothers with young children jostled for positions in line. Standing off to the side was a man with lank brown hair and a droopy expression.

For a brief moment their gazes met and then the man fumbled in a knapsack and hurriedly put on a pair of tinted sunglasses. Noah focused his attention on Eden although he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that they were being observed. It had been a constant feeling ever since the Zodiac episode.

He took Eden's shaking hands in his and rubbed them vigorously. Her palms were clammy. “Honey, you're a strong woman. You've survived losing your fiancé, and I haven't seen you light up a cigarette in days. Jesus, you've even tolerated me,” he joked, attempting to pull her out of the black funk she wore like a cloak. “We're only talking about a little old plane ride. You know how airplanes work. They're one of the safest modes of transportation. Heck, annually more people die in car accidents. You'll get on board, order a glass of wine, and kick back.”

Eden visibly gulped air. “I know you're right. I'm going to have to get a handle on this somehow. Flying's part of my job. I can't afford to fall apart every time I get on a plane.”

“Spoken like a true champ. Trust me, the more you fly, the more you'll conquer the fear. I have every confidence in you.” He hugged her tighter before carefully posing the question. “Tell me, do you associate airplanes and terminals with memories of Rod?”

The vein at the side of Eden's neck pulsed. She made a quick recovery. “Why do you ask?”

The question hung in the air. Talk about feeling like a rat.

“I thought it might help if you told me about the last time you spoke to Rod. You mentioned that he'd called you minutes before his plane took off.”

“He did.”

There was such a look of abject pain on Eden's face, that he almost didn't say it. “I don't want to upset you, Eden, but maybe if you focused on the tender things Rod said to you, his professions of love—”

Eden squared her shoulders and stood up abruptly. He'd gone too far. Pushed her to the limit. She retrieved the pet kennel at her feet and set Kahlua on top of a chair. The cat purred loudly.

“Professions of love?” Her words were followed by a derisive snort. “I don't believe Rod was capable. At least not in the traditional sense. Monogamy and Rodney didn't exactly go hand in hand.” She picked up the carrier and headed toward the counter where a representative in a navy blue jacket punched buttons on a computer keyboard.

“Eden, wait.”

When she turned back, he was surprised to find her dry-eyed. Crossing the space separating them, he placed his hands on her shoulders, shifting her body to face him. “How about telling me what really happened that evening? Start at the very beginning.”

He could tell she was struggling with the decision—vacillating. Maybe if he gave her one more push.

A slightly nasal voice boomed over the intercom. “Standby passenger Sommers, please approach the podium.”

With a pinched expression on her face, Eden headed in that direction. She accepted the boarding pass from the agent and returned to his side. “Looks like I have to go.”

Noah took possession of the kennel. Kahlua purred. If he had anything to do with it, he, Eden, and her cat would not be apart long. Draping his free arm around her shoulders, he walked with her toward the departure gate. It was the shortest walk of his life. Deciding to drop his line of questioning, he said, “Perhaps we can talk about this some other time. Maybe when I drop off Kahlua.”

“Maybe?”

“Last call for passengers boarding flight 296,” the same nasal voice announced.

Eden's footsteps faltered. She undid the clasp of her purse and fumbled inside. “I really appreciate your offer. I thought I had an extra key to my car, but I'll have to FedEx you the spare. Tomorrow, I'll call the car moving company and cancel, and I'll call you with directions to my home.” She gazed at him, blinked rapidly, and continued in a ragged voice. “Thanks, Noah. I've really enjoy—”

His finger grazed her lips, silencing her. “Don't say it. This isn't good-bye, Eden. We'll talk soon—tonight.” Pulling her into his arms, he unleashed all his pent-up emotions in that kiss.

Eden Sommers might not be aware of it, but she and he had only just begun.

H
ours later
, Noah took his time punching out the digits, simultaneously composing what he'd say in his bead. He'd put Eden on that plane what seemed an eternity ago. Already he missed her terribly. The phone rang and rang, rattling his already overwrought nerves. Finally, an answering machine clicked on.

The recorded message ended and Noah spoke. “Hey Gary, I was hoping to catch you at home. We need to talk about getting me back—”

He heard the sound of a receiver being picked up on the other end, then his boss' voice. “Lay it on me, boy.”

Noah grinned. Gary, the crafty bastard screened his calls, hardly unusual given their line of work. Noah finished what he'd been about to say, adding, “I'm ready to come home and more than ready to go back to work. There's gotta be an assignment out there with my name written on it.”

His boss chuckled. “Try assignments, Rob. Your little vacation followed by that forced leave of absence did us in. I've got plenty to keep you busy.”

“I look forward to being busy.”

“Good. Incidentally, we should be publishing our findings and recommendations about that Pelican Air crash soon.”

“The hell you will.” Noah bit back an ugly oath. Gary was baiting him. He'd known that though officially off the case, Noah'd been conducting his own investigation.

In an all-out effort to appease him, Gary's voice lowered in a conspiratorial whisper. Noah knew when he was about to be cajoled into seeing things Gary's way. “Lighten up, man. We've had a lot of pressure to wrap things up. You didn't seem to be making much progress, so we had to move forward. Congress was breathing down our necks, families of the victims are still screaming. The world's premier accident investigation agency has to stay on top of things.”

Noah counted to five, and then said between clenched teeth, “And what did the agency conclude?”

“We'll discuss that when you get back. Hey, what's with you and the Sommers chick? She wouldn't be the reason you have this sudden desire to get back to work?”

Noah bit back the invective, and through clenched teeth snapped, “That's none of your business.”

“Ah ha! So your sudden willingness to return does have something to do with the bimbo stewardess.”

“Eden is a quality assurance supervisor, not a flight attendant.” Noah decided to let the slur go. What would be the point of calling his boss on the “bimbo” part? It would only cause them to have a heated discussion. The man had never been politically correct in his life, simply didn't care to be. Besides, he'd already accomplished his mission. He'd gotten Gary to agree he could return to work.

For the first time that evening, Noah smiled. His return to the Washington, DC, area would serve a dual purpose: He'd keep an eye on Eden, and at the same time conduct in-person investigations with Pelican's staff. Though it might take some doing, he'd make sure the reports didn't get published until he and Eden had a handle on this thing. That just meant they'd have to work like demons.

E
den woke up shivering
. Underneath her, the sheets were soaked. Sitting up in bed, she brought her hand to her forehead in an effort to wipe away the dampness. The dream had returned. This time in living color and with a macabre twist to it. She'd been seated on that plane, listening to the screams of terrified passengers; feeling desperate and hopeless, the acrid smell of smoke filling her nostrils. There had been no Rod or Noah sightings this time. The dream's focus had been a little black box. A package, actually—the type you'd mail to a friend. The box had been stowed in the galley. She'd noticed it during a trip to the bathroom. It had been sitting on the counter. Sensing it was no ordinary package, she'd given it more than a second look.

As the dream progressed, the box had become larger and larger, taking on almost humanoid proportions. At one point it had grown feet and come dancing down the aisle, even taking the seat right next to her. But when the box spoke; an annoying tick tocking obscured its words, and it had been difficult to understand. Frustrated, she'd yelled at it, and in front of her eyes, it had self-destructed, dissolving into millions of pieces.

A walking, dancing, ticking box? What a ridiculous fantasy. There'd been too much talk of flight delays and coolers. She was bone-weary, that's what it was. Too many late nights watching scary movies were taking their toll. Tiredness did strange things to a person, she'd heard, even made them hallucinate. For too long, she'd been operating purely on nervous energy.