Pretense (48 page)

"Why are they?"

"A microchip."

"What's on it?"

Mackenzie smiled. "Actually stored on the chip? Nothing. But on the chip itself is the number of a private bank account holding money stolen in the 1930s."

"How much money?"

"By now, millions."

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Delancey could only stare at her sister.

"Oh, Mic, I can't believe you're doing it. I'm mean, you're
really
doing it. You've got to talk to Paxton. With his connections, you're a shoo-in."

"That's just it. I can't talk to Pax. He's such a good friend, and you wouldn't believe how many times he's told me how he hates it when he gets roped in by an aspiring writer and has to listen to him carry on."

"But you'll have a book to show him, not just some story in your head."

Mackenzie shook her head. "I still won't. Even if Pax was interested, there's a side to the industry I can't stand. In some ways I don't want to have anything to do with being published."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't think I ever told you this, but I met Carson Walcott."

"The playwright?" Delancey was stunned.

"One and the same. He's nothing but a letch."

"You're kidding." Delancey looked completely deflated.

"No." Mackenzie actually managed to smile. "We were sitting in a theater together, his date on the other side of him, and he actually ran his hand up and down my leg. I dashed out of there, and Pax followed me. He grabbed my arm, and since I thought it was Walcott, I put him flat on his back."

Delancey had had a long day, and as the scene formed in her mind, she started to giggle. She let herself fall back on Mackenzie's bed, laughter overtaking her.

"I don't suppose Paxton thought it very funny."

"Not at the time, but he's teased me since."

"And because of Carson Walcott, you don't want to do this?"

"It wasn't just Carson. Pax was very understanding, but he basically said I was the first woman he had dated who didn't see that kind of flirting as business and was actually bothered by the incident. I told him I would never live like that."

Delancey sat up suddenly. "There are ways around it, Mic."

"Like what?"

"Like a nom de plume. No one need ever know the work is yours. I just got done reading about Franco Bershevea, who died earlier this year."

"I've never heard of him."

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"You would have if you had studied art, and he is a she. Her real name is Frances Butts. She was an American woman, not a Frenchman, and no one even knew until she died. Her painting style is known all over the world."

Mackenzie thought the idea intriguing but still wouldn't consider talking to Paxton Hancock about her book. She wasn't sure her sister would understand, but it just wasn't worth it to her.

"I think I just want to do this for me," Mackenzie finally said, her voice soft but sure.

Delancey nodded and gave no argument. She'd used those words to Lovisa and understood completely. Thinking of the illustrated story that was sitting in the bottom of her suitcase made her want to rub her hands together. If she started laughing or smiling, she was going to give herself away. She opted to say she needed to use the bathroom, which was true. Mackenzie never suspected a thing, but all the way out the door, Delancey told herself this was going to be the best Christmas they had ever had.

The time between Christmas and Mackenzie's move to the Pentagon went by so swiftly that she could barely remember it. The first half of March was over before she could even draw a breath. She hadn't booted up her computer since she moved, but she loved her new job and enjoyed her CO, Captain Engel.

In the first week she caught a mistake that could have grown quite serious if left undetected. A file was marked closed when in fact the man in question, a man who disappeared after a huge shipment of guns was reported missing in Colombia, was still at large. Mackenzie would probably never know the outcome, or whether or not she had actually helped, but it was good to know that her captain was proud of her.

And if she wasn't feeling good enough about her job already, she had an appointment today, one that she hoped would turn out to be everything she dreamed of and more. This one was not work-related, at least not Army work-related, but she didn't know when she had been so excited about something.

The appointment was at Cary's, a restaurant in D.C. Mackenzie was early and had taken a booth by the window. Her coffee cup had been refilled twice, but she was too nervous to eat. At last she

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saw him: Paxton Hancock was coming her way, a big smile on his face. Mackenzie stood up so they could hug.

"Hello, stranger," he teased her as he slipped into the booth.

"Hi, yourself. How have you been?"

"Busy." He nodded his head when a waiter approached with a mug and a pot of coffee. "I thought it would all slow down when Christmas passed, but we're already gearing up for spring and summer."

"How is Jodi?"

"Great." Paxton smiled contently. They were living together now. "Just had a promotion, so she's at the top of the world. How's the Pentagon?"

"I love it." Mackenzie's smile matched his own. "I thought Arlington Hall was interesting, but it can't compare."

"How do you like being at the Fort?"

"It's fine. I have a very small apartment, which is a miracle, but privacy was all I wanted. My folks bought me that little red Jeep parked right out there for Christmas, and I've never had so much fun."

"It looks brand new," Paxton said with his face to the glass.

"It's two years old, but there's not a scratch on it. I've even taken some weekend drives. Parts of the East Coast are beautiful."

"I think so, but then I grew up here."

Mackenzie smiled but didn't comment. She suddenly realized how awkward this was going to be. She had been so excited when she called him that she didn't stop to think about this part.

"All right, Mackenzie," Paxton rescued her, "out with it. On the phone you sounded like someone had just proposed."

"No, it's not that, but I-She paused. "I've never taken advantage of our friendship, have I, Pax?"

"Oh no," the man said with a laugh. "That sounds like a setup with a capital headache."

"Come on, now," Mackenzie coaxed. "I'm not doing this for me. Will you hear me out?"

"Of course I will."

"Okay." Mackenzie took a deep breath. "You have to understand that this is not for me; it's for my sister."

"Okay."

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"She doesn't even know about it. That way, if nothing ever comes of it, she won't be hurt or feel rejected."

"I understand." Paxton smiled at her earnest face. He was quite in love with Jodi, but Mackenzie would always hold a place in his heart.

Mackenzie bit her lip and looked at him for a moment before reaching for a large folder that lay on the seat beside her. She pulled a stack of bound papers from it and placed them on the table between them. She watched Paxton's eyes go down to the top page:
"Micah Bear and the Rainy Day,
written by Mackenzie Bishop and illustrated by Delancey Bishop."

"My sister put this together for me for Christmas. The writing is nothing, just something I did as a kid, but I think her artwork is good. Will you look at this and tell me if you think anyone at IronHorse would want to take a look at it?"

Paxton smiled into her anxious eyes. "Of course I will," he shocked her by saying. "I would have been upset if you'd gone to anyone else."

Mackenzie beamed at him and carefully watched his face as he opened the front, studied the illustrations, and then paged through and read every word. Almost as soon as he saw the first picture, his face grew serious. Not one smile of delight crossed his features, and Mackenzie's heart sank. She had wanted him to be as thrilled as she was and see the potential her sister had. At last he looked up at her.

"These are incredible," he said softly.

Mackenzie's breath left her in a rush. "Do you really think so?"

"Yes. When you told me a long time ago that Delancey wanted to illustrate, I had no idea. And the story, Mackenzie- it doesn't read like a child's work."

Mackenzie waved her hand in dismissal. "It's not really the story I'm trying to sell, but outside of this I don't have a large collection of Delancey's artwork, and I wanted someone in the business to see what she can do."

"You did the right thing. Tell me again how old she is?"

"She'll be 19 in July. She's studying art at Mills College in Oakland right now."

Paxton nodded and took a napkin to write out the details. He looked up and said,"I think I'm a pretty good judge,

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Mackenzie, but as you know I'm not a children's editor. Why don't I take this with me and show it to Tom Magy? He's head of the children's book department, and he would be the one to say if they could use it."

"You'll be careful, won't you, Pax? I would never be able to explain it to her if I lost this book."

"I'll be very careful, Mackenzie. You don't need to worry."

Mackenzie didn't know what to say. A chance to have her sister's work recognized was what she had hoped for, but she could hardly believe it would ever happen. And now that the opportunity had come, she couldn't tell anyone. She couldn't call her sister with the good news because it might not go anywhere. Would it be fair to tell her mother? She didn't think so. She would be all happy and excited, and it still might not get off the ground.

"Can I buy you some lunch?" Paxton asked bringing her back to earth.

"Oh, I couldn't eat a thing. I'm so excited."

"Well, try to relax. Like all of us, Tom is a busy man. He might not get back to me for some time."

"Okay. I'm glad you told me. Otherwise I would be expecting to hear next week."

"No, no." Paxton adamantly shook his head. "Nothing moves very fast, and when we're this rushed, established authors get top priority. If you don't hear from me for three months, then call and ask me."

"Three months?" Mackenzie's mouth hung open.

Paxton nodded reluctantly.

"Okay," she sighed. "Again, I'm glad you said something. I would have been wondering if you'd dropped off the face of the earth."

"No, just buried under mounds of paperwork." He looked aggrieved. "I haven't had any fresh writing cross my desk for a year. It makes me wonder if it isn't time for a change."

"What would you do?"

"I don't know. Some agents make good money."

"But wouldn't you have to read more new authors than ever?"

Paxton's light brow quirked. "Yes. I keep forgetting about that."

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Mackenzie laughed. The two talked for almost two more hours, and in that time they did share a meal. Paxton walked Mackenzie to the Jeep, giving genuine approval on the leather seats and new tires. The top was cloth, and he teased her about letting the wind blow through her hair come summer. They parted on amiable terms, and as Mackenzie always did, she missed him for a time. However, life for Mackenzie never stayed in one place. Before the day was over, her mind was on something else, mainly that she hadn't been to the gym to work out in over a week. She ended the day at the gym on the base and exercised until she could do nothing more than return to her apartment and sleep like the dead.

"Mackenzie?"

"Jackson?" Mackenzie asked in astonishment and some fear. She would have said her family didn't even have her work number.

"Yes, I'm sorry to alarm you. Nothing is wrong, but I need to tell you something."

"All right." She heard the calm in his voice and relaxed. "I was just about to go for a cup of coffee."

"You're such a woman of leisure," he teased.

"Oh, yes." Mackenzie went along with the gag. "There's so little to do around here. We all come in late and go home early to make up for it."

He laughed before asking, "Have you got plans for the evening?"

"No, none at all."

"Can you meet someone at the airport?"

"Sure. Who?"

"Your mother."

Mackenzie said nothing for a moment. Then understanding dawned.

"April Fool's, right?"

"No, honey, she's really coming."

Mackenzie's voice dropped. "You're serious?"

"Yes. She decided she needed to see her girl."

"Oh, Jackson," Mackenzie said on a giggle. "I can't believe it. What time?"

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"Six-thirty."

"Oh, Jackson," she repeated herself. "I can't stand it. My mom is coming."

Jack laughed over the line, wishing he could see the reunion.

"She said she felt a little rushed at Christmas, and she just wants you to herself for a while."