Lisa Scottoline - Think Twice

Bennie ran right behind them and when she reached the gate, all the travelers had scattered, hiding under seats or behind desks while a scrum of uniformed cops had piled on Alice, struggling at the bottom. The cops got off the pile one by one, dragging Alice to a standing position. They wrenched her hands behind her back and turned her around.

Her hat fell off, and her hair shook free.

It wasn’t Alice, but a terrified teenage boy, with long hair.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” he yelled, his eyes wide. A new Transporter DVD lay on the floor, at his sneakers. “I’ll give it back, I swear!”

Alice hurried through the terminal in her bare feet, her clothes soggy, but there was no one around to see. The hallway was deserted, and she hustled past a janitor pushing a trashcan on wheels. She hustled around a corner, her messenger bag heavy with wet money, the gun in her purse. She didn’t have to go through security because she was flying private, having charged the trip on Bennie’s Amex, which nobody had thought to cancel yet.

She hustled to the gate, manned by a female flight attendant in ared RentJet uniform. The cops were probably at the Philly airport, but she’d skipped the flight booked to Miami, called a private company from the cab, and chartered a jet out of this regional airport, in Jersey. The Philly police didn’t have jurisdiction here, even if they’d had the time to notify the area airports.

“Hi, I’m Bennie Rosato.” Alice flashed ID at the flight attendant, who barely looked at it, instead eyeing her clothes.

“I’m Willa. My goodness, you really did get caught in the rain, didn’t you?”

“Yes, it’s awful tonight.”

“I picked you up a complete set of clothes, per your request. A simple T-shirt, shorts, sweatsocks and sneaks. You know, you could have driven right up to the plane.”

“I didn’t know. I don’t fly private that much.”

“Well, we’re glad to have you tonight. In weather this bad, people cancel and fly commercial. One was a Bahamas route, so we didn’t have to file a new flight plan. Please, come this way.” The flight attendant led her out the door under a red canopy and gestured toward a handsome African-American man running toward them, also in a RentJet uniform. “Here’s my crewmate to take your bags.”

“I don’t have any. This trip is impromptu.”

“Then he’ll help you on board and we’ll get underway.”

“Good, because I’m in a hurry.” Alice smiled at the man, who came toward her, opening a red umbrella.

“I’m Knox,” he said, in a Ca rib be an accent.

“Where are you from, Knox?”

“Nassau. That’s why I work this route. Shall we go?” Knox took her heavy messenger bag, swung it effortlessly to his shoulder, and offered his arm. Alice let him walk her to the jet and help her up the stairway, holding the umbrella over her head. He closed the umbrella as she boarded the jet, stepped through a privacy curtain, and entered the passenger cabin, which was paneled with dark burled wood and had cushy beige leather seats. A low table held a huge tray heaped with roast beef, sliced cheese, and fresh fruit, next to a bottle of champagne cooling in an ice bucket.

“Yum.” Alice glanced back at her messenger bag. “Oh, I’ll keep the bag with me.”

“As you wish.” Knox smiled and stowed the bag on the carpeted floor, near her seat. “Would you like to change your clothes now, or would you rather we take off?”

“Let’s get into the air. I’ll tough it out for a while. I need to get going.”

“Fine, I’ll be right back.” Knox closed the curtain and left, and Alice sank into the plush chair. She listened to the throaty sound of the jet engine, then the door closing, and the attendants talking to each other. She’d had to improvise since Bennie came back from the dead, but she had done well. Plan C was already taking shape. She looked outside the round window into a black hole of night.

Knox stuck his head into the cabin, through the curtain. “We’re clear. Fasten your seat belt, please.”

“Okay.” Alice clicked the belt into place. “I don’t have to wait to have a drink, do I?”

“Not at all, Ms. Rosato. Allow me.”

“Please, call me Bennie.” Alice watched him pluck the bottle from the craggy ice and wipe the sweating nozzle with a red napkin. The plane began to taxi, the champagne cork popped, and they both laughed.

“Ready, Bennie?” Knox picked up a glass.

“After you close that curtain,” Alice answered, masking her thoughts with a smile.

Mary lay in her old single bed, surrounded by the shelves of high-school textbooks and faded stuffed animals. She couldn’t see them clearly because it was too dark, but she knew their shapes and smells by heart. She always loved her old room and slept like a baby when she stayed over, but not tonight.

She pulled the covers to her chin, over her old Goretti T-shirt. She couldn’t shake the images of the night. Judy, her eyes terrified. The flare of the gunfire. The wait at the hospital. The chill between her parents.

She was exhausted, but her mind wouldn’t rest. Her mother had gone to sleep in their bedroom, and her father slept on the couch. The only other time that had happened was when he brought home live crabs. She forgave him and put the crabs in the gravy, where God intended.

Mary turned over, coming eye-level with the BlackBerry on her night table. She picked it up, checking it for the umpteenth time. Nothing from Anthony, but there was an email that hadn’t been there before. It was from the realtor, with no subject line. Mary pressed OPEN:

Congrats! The buyer accepted your offer. Sorry about the delay. All terms are fine. I’d call but it’s late. Talk to you tomorrow.

She stared at the screen until it blinked off. She had just become the owner of a house that had cost her Anthony. She groaned, the only sound in the very quiet house, and it made her think about what made a house a home. It wasn’t the Curb Appeal, New Fixtures, or Great Views! It was the people who lived inside.

If home is where the heart is, then the heart of the DiNunzio house was broken. Her parents’ house didn’t feel like a home tonight, and if she flashed-forward to her new house, it wouldn’t be much of a home, either. Not without Anthony. Her heart was with him.

She knew it now, inside. She prayed it wasn’t too late. She held up the BlackBerry and speed-dialed him. She couldn’t give up the house, but maybe she could persuade him to live with her. Or they could talk about it, and come to an understanding. She loved him. And he loved her, right?

The phone rang and rang, but Anthony didn’t pick up.

She tried again, thinking she had a wrong number, but she didn’t. Then she texted: Pls call me.

She waited, but he didn’t respond. She emailed him, too. Suddenly the phone rang, and she startled. The screen read Anthony. She pressed Answer. “It’s you!”

“I was just about to call you.”

“Really?” Mary scrambled to sit upright in bed. “Listen, I’ve been thinking and-”

“No, can I go first? I’ve been rehearsing this all night, since the hospital.”

“Okay.” Mary felt her heart hammer. “Go ahead.”

“I figured something out. What I realized is that we do have a problem, but it’s not about the money. You think it is, and for a while, I thought it was, too, But it isn’t.”

Mary wasn’t sure where he was going.

“I am happy for all your success. I hope you make partner and get the house. I want all the best for you. I love you, Mary. I do.”

“I love you, too,” she said, touched.