Package Deal (27 page)

“Just a minute.”

More muffled sounds came through the line, and Kelly knew Jill had her hand over the phone receiver.

“Jill! Jill!” she yelled into the phone, her heart racing with anxiety. “What the hell is going on there? I know it’s Ken. I’m not stupid. What is he doing there?”

When Jill spoke, it was a reluctant whisper. “Yes, Kelly. It’s Ken.”

Kelly’s voice caught in her throat. “How long have you been seeing him?”

Silence, then a reluctant, “Not long. Let me get rid of him,” Jill responded with hesitancy.

“How could you? I can’t believe this. I thought we were friends. Oh, God! I was just dumb enough to think your dirty laundry wouldn’t affect me. I thought if there was anyone in the world I could trust, it would be you, my best friend. I’ve been so stupid.”

Kelly spun around and kicked the bed, her eyes stinging with tears.
 
“You two duped me.”

She took a deep breath, her heart aching, and tried to pull herself together. “I would expect this from Ken. He’s a self-centered ass, but you? I should have known. I just never—”

“Kelly…please! Let me explain. I’m so sorry. Really I am. I would never hurt you.”

“Too late.” Kelly took a swallow of pure pain. “Don’t bother with excuses. Words are cheap.” She laughed, an icy brittle sound. “And I thought
men
were undependable. You’ve taught me an important lesson, my
friend
.” She exaggerated the word
friend
. “At least this explains your recent change of loyalty.”

Kelly had been a fool. Jill and Ken were no doubt laughing at her right now. Her face burned with humiliation. Her heart swelled with grief. Losing Jill as a friend was a major loss to Kelly, who had experienced about all the losses she could handle in one lifetime.

She had nothing more to say and hung up.

She fell across the bed and lay motionless, stunned, mourning her loss. How could Jill have deceived her like this? It was unimaginable. Anger swelled, blocking her throat. She couldn’t breathe.

It wasn’t so much the fact that Jill was going out with Ken. She was welcome to
him,
although it amazed her Jill wanted him. It was Jill’s secrecy, but even worse, her betrayal—choosing between her and Ken and taking his side on the child support issue. She thought Jill would have been honest with her and had the guts to stand up to Ken instead of switching loyalties out of convenience, or lust.

What a fool she’d been.
 
She’d been just about to tell Jill about Steve, knowing her friend would break out in ecstatic cheers. She’d been trying to convince Kelly for years to take a chance and stop living on the edge of her bad memories. Well, tonight she had done a fine job selling Kelly on the value of relationships. For God’s sake, if she couldn’t trust her best friend, why would she bother trusting anyone?

Kelly laughed out loud, a cynical sound. She swallowed a sob, tasting salt on her lips, then wept, her heart growing cold.

Her thoughts abruptly changed gears, switching to Daytona, to Steve and Lacy. Her pain intensified, her confusion growing tenfold, choking off any warmth or trust she had afforded Steve. She’d made a big mistake and given in to her hormones, but it wasn’t too late. She’d always known when it came right down to life’s choices it was every man for himself.

She curled up against the pillows, nursing her pride and smearing her painted nail color on the white sheets. She would have to reevaluate everything, but not now.
All she could think about
was
Jill’s betrayal.

She jumped off the bed and blew her nose and wiped her swollen eyes with a cool washcloth. When she returned to bed, she cleaned up the mess, stuffing the scattered items back into her purse. She tossed everything back in except the piece of granite from Robby’s grave. She lay down, curling up on the bed, clinging to the stone, tears soaking her pillow. An image of Robby formed in her mind. God, she needed him right now.

Chapter Thirty

T
he storm’s fury the night before was weak compared to the inner turmoil raging through Kelly when she headed back to Daytona. She hadn’t slept well, a mixture of anger, hurt, and disbelief over Jill’s betrayal tormenting her waking and sleeping hours. Smoldering just below the surface were the nagging doubts she’d had all along about Steve. Every time he mentioned Gary Benson, that old friend of hers—the red flag—popped up, the whole scenario reminding her too much of Ken.

She’d chosen to quell her suspicions and ignore the signs. Well, she had no one to blame but herself. She’d strapped those blinders over her eyes all by herself, without any help, and like a banner waving
I told you so
, she flashed back to Steve saying, “I told Gary I would take him fishing…”

What a fool she’d been with Steve
and
Jill. She’d known all along Jill had no reservations about stealing a woman’s husband—although, she’d never wanted to keep him. Kelly was foolish ever to have trusted her. Why had she assumed Jill would place any great loyalty on their friendship? Why had she expected Jill to side with her when there was a hunk for the offering, even if the hunk was Kelly’s conceited ex-husband?

“God, I’ve been a jerk!”

Humiliated, she snapped the radio on and turned it up as loud as it would go, trying to drown out her regrets, but the song playing, “Secret Lover,” only served to further batter her wounded pride. If Steve McCarthy proved as dependable as the rest of the people she’d counted on in her twenty-eight years, he had probably already added her to the notches on his bedpost.

She swallowed hard, realizing she’d already been added. A heat flash of latent passion fanned over her, an image of Steve and the intimacy they’d shared sweeping away all other thoughts. Her body’s reaction to Steve only increased her humiliation. Their lovemaking had awakened Kelly to her flesh again after years of a numb physical existence, and she’d given herself without reservation, accepting him into her body and soul with a willingness that surprised both of them. Regret was a sharp thorn in her side. She might never see Steve McCarthy again, but would the memories, mental and physical, ever fade?

She searched for another radio station while her foot grew heavier on the gas pedal, pushing the odometer needle up to eighty-five miles per hour. Kelly knew the world was full of people who suffered major tragedies, her losses seeming minor in the scope of human suffering. Maybe she was a wimp, but everyone had different pain tolerances. Some people fainted dead away when stuck with a needle, others delivered babies without anesthetics, squatting in a rice field. Emotional stamina was no different. There were risk takers, and there were those who lived safe, unexciting lives, never taking chances of any kind. Wimp or not, she’d hurt enough for one lifetime. She’d been doing just fine until Steve McCarthy came along. Well, she would just have to do fine without him now.

The old wall shot up, an iron cocoon, protecting her from further pain. She banished Jill from her thoughts. Her heart hardened, and she concentrated on the road ahead. She knew what she had to do when she got home.

When she reached Daytona, she stopped by the newspaper, told Ted Willis—and Waldo, who eavesdropped from his desk—about the interview and the storm that had forced her to stay overnight. She wrote up an expense report and drove on to the daycare center to pick up Lacy, planning to work on the manatee story at home. She pulled into the daycare parking lot at ten thirty.

“What do you mean Lacy isn’t here? He was supposed to drop her off this morning. Did he call and leave a message?”

“Yes, of course. Let me see.” The woman sorted through several messages stuck to the wall above the phone. “Ah, here it is. It just says, ‘I’ve got Lacy.’”

Kelly thanked the woman and left. She headed toward the house but pulled over and called Steve on her cell. There was no sense in him driving all the way over to bring Lacy home if Kelly was already out. His house was on the way. The phone rang several times before going to voice mail. She hung up, refusing to leave a message.

Where could they be? She decided to drive to Steve’s, thinking he and Lacy might be there. She dreaded seeing him, her rehearsed
I’m not ready for this relationship
speech drying up on her tongue when she arrived and his car wasn’t there. The mail poked out from the slot in the door, and his morning newspaper was marked with black tread marks where he’d backed out over it to go wherever it was he and Lacy had gone.

Kelly bit into her lower lip then hollered at Junker through the front door to stop barking and take a nap. She got back in her car and drove home.
Who knows, maybe they’ll be there waiting for me.

They weren’t. It was half past eleven, and there was no sign of them.

 
She returned to the house, changed into something comfortable, and sat down at the computer with the intention of composing her article on the manatees. Nothing came. She couldn’t concentrate, the distrust, betrayal and her concern for Lacy absorbed her every thought. She reprimanded herself. She was being ridiculous. Steve was a great guy. He would have an explanation, so why was she wasting her time worrying. Feeling better, she typed, proofed, then erased everything and started again. The flow of words clogged up in her fingertips before they even reached the keys. She switched off the computer, tired, frustrated, and preoccupied.

As time ticked by, she had a hard time understanding why Steve hadn’t dropped Lacy at the daycare as planned? He had left his house in a hurry, suggested by the mutilated morning paper in his driveway. Why hadn’t he called her and mentioned a change of plans? He knew she’d be on the road early heading home.

The later it got, the fiercer her concern grew. She glared at the clock. It was ten till three.

“Where the hell are they?” she shouted at the ceiling, clenching her fists.

She marched into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. Leaning on the counter, she stared out the window and down the street, hoping to see Steve’s car come around the corner. Nothing. Damn it! He had a cell. Why didn’t he use it? Why wasn’t he answering? She picked up her cell and dialed his house but got his voice mail again. Had they had an accident? Was Lacy okay?

“Where the hell are you, McCarthy?” was the message she left, her tone frantic.

She hung up and dropped into a dining room chair, drumming her fingers on the table. What if Steve wasn’t mister nice guy? After all, she didn’t know him that well.
You could never really know a person
, she decided. She’d lived with Ken for four years and was surprised when he’d given up on their marriage without any attempt whatsoever
to save
it. She’d known Jill for three years and thought she knew her well enough to trust her. She’d misjudged their friendship, too. So, what made her think she knew Steve McCarthy after six weeks? God, he could be some kind of a nutcase. He had once teased
her
about being a serial killer.

She knew he didn’t go to an office every day. She believed his story about consulting at the space center. She’d seen him there, so she knew he worked with them, but she’d never met any of his friends or family—or even Gary Benson for God’s sake! Yet, she’d handed Lacy over to him. Was she so naive and gullible?

She tried his house again, and this time when his voice mail beeped, she left what she hoped sounded like a normal, calm message. If he was crazy, she didn’t want to upset him or let him know she suspected anything. She hung up and resumed her pacing, her eyes riveted to the hands of the kitchen clock, her anger at Jill burning a hole in her stomach. If there had ever been a time she needed Jill’s advice, it was now. But no thanks to Ken, she had nowhere to turn. Her mother would go into withdrawal if she called her for anything of heavier consequence than her quilting club.

The minutes dragged by with increasing dread.

Okay, she told herself. The odds are Steve McCarthy is a normal, well-adjusted individual but what if he is part of the one percent that only seems normal? What if he’s crazy, collects women’s underwear, or worse? Every minute she sat waiting could mean a nightmare for Lacy.