The Price of Fame - KJ1 (40 page)

241

Lynn Ames

“Yes, and you fed my habit quite nicely, thank you.”

“Well, you were my roommate and the only Theatre major I knew; who else was I supposed to enlist to play practical jokes on unsuspecting fools?”

“Mmm-hmm. It would be nice if you just said that I was the most talented actress you knew and that’s why you hung around with me.”

“Yeah, that too, I guess.” Kate paused and looked seriously at her old college friend. She and Marie had been paired together randomly freshman year and had hit it off right away. She loved the fact that Marie accepted her just as she was and gave her space, while at the same time offering her unconditional friendship. They had roomed together until Kate had gotten a single junior year. Marie was one of the few people whom Kate let get close, and one of the very few in college who had known that she was a lesbian.

“I can’t thank you enough for putting yourself on the line like this for me, Marie. It’s an awful lot to ask.”

“For you, Kate, anything, you know that. I was glad you called; I just about burst a button when I saw the cover of
Time
. I couldn’t think of anyone who deserved the recognition more. And then when I saw the
Enquirer
yesterday I was mad enough to spit nails. It’d make me only too happy to screw them up.”

Marie smiled. She knew she would do anything for Kate, and vice versa. In college most people had shied away from her, her offbeat manner leading most of her classmates to dismiss her as a nut, but not the tall, quiet beauty. Kate had befriended her right away, and, in turn, she was one of the few people who ever got to see Kate’s wicked sense of humor. She loved her with all her heart and hated to see her in pain.

“Kate?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you all right? I know I haven’t been the best about keeping in touch, what with doing the show at the Improv and all, but I’m still here for you, you know?”

“I know you are, friend, that’s why I felt comfortable making the call.

I knew you would come through for me.”

“You haven’t answered the question.”

“Oh, haven’t I?”

“No, smart ass, you haven’t.”

Kate sighed, trying to figure out how to answer her friend. She had never lied to her before and had found her to be, on those few occasions when she had wanted to talk, a good listener. “No, I’m not okay,” she said quietly. “I got fired yesterday, I have no idea what my future holds, I had to leave my fiancée behind so she wouldn’t lose her career and get caught up in all this, and my heart is sick over it.”

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The Price of Fame

“Oh sweetie.” Marie squeezed the large hand that rested on the seat.

“I’m so sorry for you. I’m assuming your fiancée was the one in the picture, right?”

Kate poked her friend. “No, I’m sleeping around, but don’t tell her, okay? Of course it was her. In fact, that was taken on the day I proposed to her; we were on a beach in St. John. I had taken her there to get away from everything.” She sighed wistfully.

Marie noted the ironic tone in her friend’s voice. “It will be all right, Kate, you’ll see. This will blow over and the two of you can ride off into the sunset.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

“Who is she? All I could see from the pictures was the back of her head. Nice kissing technique, by the way.”

“God, you are such a brat.”

“Just part of my charm, remember? And, my dear, once again you haven’t answered my question. Am I going to have to beat it out of you?”

“Huh? You and what army, woman?”

“Just remember my husband is bigger than you are.”

“Yes, but he’d probably be on my side.”

“Not if he wants me to put out anytime in this century.”

“Ooh, now there’s a threat.”

“We’re getting off the subject, missy. Are you going to tell me who the lucky woman is?”

Kate sighed heavily. “Her name is Jamison Parker. You might remember her; she was two years behind us...an Am Lit major. And, Marie—I’m the lucky one.”

“Wow. You’ve got it bad, woman. Jamison Parker, Jamison Parker.

Where have I seen that name recently?” She thought for a moment, and then turned incredulous eyes to her friend. “You can’t mean the same Jamison Parker whose byline graces the
Time
magazine story about you, can you?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“My, what a tangled web we weave. Yikes. No wonder you’re trying to keep the hounds off the scent; that could look really bad for her.”

“Right. Marie, she’s an incredibly talented writer, she’s got a brilliant future in front of her. I can’t take a chance on her credibility being called into question.”

“I see your dilemma here. Why didn’t she just recuse herself from the story in the first place?”

“It’s all my fault. We weren’t involved sexually when she was given the assignment. In fact, we had only kissed a couple of times and had really just found each other again the week before.”

243

Lynn Ames

At Marie’s inquiring look, she explained, “She was in Albany doing a story on the governor when the bombing happened; she saw me on television and came to find me. That’s how we got reacquainted. We had met briefly a couple of times in college and she had really made an impression on me, and, I guess, me on her. So we began talking on the telephone. When her editor gave her the piece to do on me, she made it clear up front she needed to maintain professional distance from me. I was the one who pushed her. And even then, we didn’t sleep together until she had done all of the interviews and research for the story. By the time she actually wrote it, we were head over heels in love, and just after she turned it in, I whisked her off to a remote Caribbean island and asked her to marry me.”

“That’s quite a tale. And they said romance was dead; apparently it’s alive and well and living in Albany, New York—who knew? I have to say, Kate, I never would have known the depth of your relationship from the story. She did an amazing job of staying objective, there’s no hint of anything too personal in there.”

“I know, I was so proud of her. Now you see why I have to let her go.”

“No. Now I see why you want to keep her out of the spotlight, but not why you need to ditch her.”

“I’m not ditching her!” Why couldn’t they see? First Barbara, then Peter, now Marie; she had to do this for Jay’s sake, that was all there was to it.

“What would you call disappearing and not telling her where you’re going?”

“Look, the less she knows, the less she’s likely to try and follow me, and the less likely she is to lose her job and her future.”

“Seems to me if she loses you, she is losing her future. But that’s just me,” she tweaked her friend gently. “A job is a job and love is everything. Katherine Kyle, you are one of the most desirable women on the face of the planet. Why, if I weren’t straight and happily married to Nick I’d chase your skirt myself. I can’t imagine this woman is just going to let you go and be okay with that.”

They had arrived at their destination, a nice, solid brick home in a respectably middle class neighborhood. Getting out of the passenger side, Kate watched with awe as her friend transformed herself back into an elderly aunt in the blink of an eye. She had always loved watching Marie work; it fascinated her. Anyone watching would assume Kate was visiting with a beloved relative, which was just what she wanted people to think.

Once they were inside the house, Marie turned to her friend. “How much time have you got before your next flight?”

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The Price of Fame

“A little over two hours.”

“Okay, that means you have to leave here within a half-hour to get back to the airport in time.”

“Fine. There is a back way out of here, right?”

“Yep, through the backyard where there’s a small path over to the next neighborhood. I’ll call Nick and tell him to meet you over there.”

“You don’t need to do that, I can call a cab.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I won’t hear of it. You might want to be careful, though, in case your friends are still hanging out waiting at the airport for a flight or something.”

“I will, but I’m guessing they’re based here in Chicago or on the west coast somewhere and will either be watching your house or be gone by the time I get there.”

“I hope you’re right. Just in case, do you want a disguise?”

“Mmm. That could be fun.”

“We’ll make it something easy to take off, so you can be yourself by the time you get on the plane if you want.”

“Okay, and if they’re still lurking about I’ll just stay in character.”

Within twenty minutes Kate had been transformed into a stooped old lady, warts and all, with the help of baggy clothes, a large bra stuffed with feathers, and some fake wrinkles that looked so real even she had to do a double take in the mirror. A wig of finely woven salt-and-pepper hair completed the look, with her real hair swept up underneath.

“My, my, Katherine, you really should take better care of yourself.

Why, you’re positively going to seed!”

The ex-anchorwoman leaned over and kissed her friend on the cheek.

“Thanks, Marie, you’re the best.”

“Watch your voice there, Grandma Kate, and I know.” Her eyes twinkled. “Just you take care of yourself. And don’t give up on your lady, either, my friend. I can’t wait to meet her; it sounds like she’s a keeper, and so are you.”

They hugged and Marie, still in costume, checked the backyard. “All clear. And don’t worry, Kate, if I see any sign of anyone sniffing around, I’ll just get back into costume and yell from the porch into the house for you to ‘come out and get some fresh air, young lady, you stay cooped up too much for your own good.’”

Kate laughed at her friend’s old-lady voice. “That ought to work. I’ll be in touch sometime, Marie, I promise,” she said as she stooped over and made her way slowly across the backyard and over into the next neighborhood. Her suitcase had already been transferred to Nick’s car in the enclosed garage away from any potential prying eyes fifteen minutes earlier, before he headed back out to wait for her.

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Lynn Ames

The remainder of the trip was uneventful, with no sightings of any reporters or photographers. Still, Kate chose to stay in costume until she reached Denver, where she disappeared into a ladies’ room and removed the makeup and costume, paid cash for a rental car, picked up a large container of coffee to fight off her exhaustion, and headed off in the direction of her first destination, the Great Sand Dunes in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains.

By 9:00 p.m. Wednesday, after nearly seven hours of driving, she had arrived in tiny Mosca, Colorado, the town closest to the dunes, where she stopped for the night at a small bed and breakfast called the Inn at Zapata Ranch. She was grateful just to be able to get out and stretch her cramped legs.

After checking in, she put her suitcase in the homespun room, noting that there was no telephone. She frowned and headed back out to the main lobby. “Excuse me,” she said to the elderly night clerk, “I’m looking for a telephone.”

The white-haired gentleman smiled a smile that was missing two prominent teeth and pointed to a lounge chair in the corner of the lobby closest to the communal fireplace. “That’s the only phone available to the guests, miss. Just dial 9 to get an operator.”

Great,
thought Kate, looking around and seeing several people milling about the lobby.
Just what I need; no privacy.
She sighed heavily and sat down in the lounge chair, dialing Peter’s number from memory.

She glanced at her watch; it was a little after 11:00 p.m. back home.

“Yello.”

“Hey, Technowiz.”

“Hey Anc—er, woman. How’s things?”

“Peachy. I’m so far beyond exhausted...hey, what comes after exhausted, anyway?”

“Um, dead?”

She chuckled. “Well, that’s helpful. Let’s just say I’m halfway there and leave it at that.”

“How’d the trip out go?”

“Like clockwork. Two photographers and a reporter at the airport in Albany, two different photographers and a different reporter in Chicago.

My friend met me and put on a great show, which I think they bought, and no one followed me to Denver that I could tell. Certainly no one followed me here. I’m in the middle of nowhere and I didn’t see another set of headlights in either direction for the last 125 miles.”

“Sounds good. Where exactly is the middle of nowhere?”

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The Price of Fame

“Are you sure you want to know? If you don’t know, you can’t lie about it.” She was only half joking, and they both knew it.

“Kate, someone ought to know where to find you in case of emergency, don’t you think?”

“Is everything all right? Have you heard from Jay?”

“Everything’s okay, and yes, I heard from Jay seven hours ago.”

“How is she?”

“Lonely and depressed, from the sound of it, but otherwise okay. She sounds about the same as you, come to think of it. Imagine that.”

“Okay, I get your point, that’s enough. Where is she?”

“She’s back in New York at the apartment. You could probably get her there now if you wanted.”

“No, it’s too late; I’m hoping she’s sleeping. It sounds like she had a whirlwind trip; she wasn’t even there twenty-four hours. And besides,”

she added softly, “it will only make things harder.”

“She’s going into the office tomorrow morning to write the story on the injured sailors, then she flies off to Jacksonville, Florida tomorrow afternoon or evening for the memorial service for the dead, which takes place the following morning. The president is going to be there. She says she’s, and I quote, ‘coming home to write the story over the weekend and then take the train to the city Monday morning to turn it in.’ She’s flying directly from Jacksonville to Albany on Friday after the service. I told her I’d pick up dinner and bring it, and Fred, to the house Friday night.”

“Thanks, Peter, you’re a prince, as always.”

“Yeah, yeah, tell it to somebody who believes you. Oh, and she had two messages for you. She said to tell you she loves you and she misses you.”

Kate’s heart clenched. “Tell her I said the same, okay?” she asked huskily.