Hannah Alexander - Death Benefits

Neither Willow nor Preston noticed Ray, and he was glad. It meant others also might not notice him. Graham had even suggested that Ray not attempt to board until the last minute. Ray understood perfectly why his friend felt a late arrival was necessary, but he still chafed at the thought of subterfuge.

After another five minutes, the glass doors slid open again and two little girls burst into the concourse. Ray knew from photos that these children were Lucy and Brittany Jameson. They would be adopted by Graham and Willow next week, as soon as they returned from Hawaii.

“Mommy!” Brittany called, racing forward, arms outstretched.

Willow turned, a smile of delight spreading across the slightly angular features of her face. The smile transformed her somewhat solemn expression into a thing of beauty.

She and her brother, Preston, both stepped out of line and knelt to embrace the children.

Brittany, the five-year-old, looked small for her age, though Ray knew she was nearly six. It was easy to tell that she was the charmer. With long, pale hair and a wide grin, she looked much like the photos of her mother, who had been killed last year.

Lucy, in contrast, appeared older than eight and a half, not because of her size, but because her demeanor was so watchful and serious. She resembled Willow, with her dark brown hair and reserved expression, especially when she smiled, which she suddenly did at Willow, whom she obviously adored.

Preston leaned close to Lucy and asked her something. Ray couldn’t hear what he said, but Lucy placed her hands on her hips and gave him a disapproving look. “It’s not an airplane, Uncle Preston, it’s a jet.”

Preston chuckled. He, too, looked most like Willow when he smiled. It was obvious he doted on the children.

“That’s right, my dear, you set ’em straight” came a painfully familiar voice from behind the girls.

Ray looked up to see Ginger Carpenter walking through the doorway beside Graham Vaughn, her brother. Ray’s breath caught.

Ginger. A year ago, if anyone had suggested that a rift might form between him and Ginger Carpenter, Ray would have thought it was impossible. His most precious memories of their time together and their growing friendship were of her smile, her laughter, her tender compassion.

Of course, many of those same memories also included the powerful and painful attraction he had felt for her since their first meeting. By all indications, the attraction had never been reciprocated, and he hoped his rare loss of emotional control had remained undetected by his colleagues—and especially by Ginger.

He expected her to turn at any second and spot him. Fireworks would then commence.

The reason Graham preferred that the conflagration take place onboard rather than in the concourse was obvious. Graham wanted his sister to attend his wedding. If she saw Ray while she could still escape, she might do so. Graham had warned Ray that his characteristically kindhearted, forgiving sister had not forgiven Ray for their conflict last year.

Ray intended for that to change on this trip.

He continued to hold the paper, but over the top edge he watched Ginger. He had always enjoyed her sunny smile, her quick laughter, the glow of health across her fair, freckled face. This morning her golden-red hair was mingled with new silver that he hadn’t noticed a year ago. The effect was one of antiqued copper—very becoming on her. She didn’t appear well rested, however.

A strange man with dark brown hair and a black leather jacket suddenly joined the group. Lucy grabbed her sister’s arm and stepped in front of her protectively.

Ray watched the man’s face.

“Ow!” Brittany wriggled from Lucy’s grip. “Stop it, sissy, you’re hurting me.”

Lucy released her, but continued to stare at the man. As Preston and Willow had done, this man squatted in front of the girls, looking them in the eyes. “Hi. I’m Larry Bager.”

The man’s eyes were dark brown, and his well-developed muscles beneath the jacket were obvious. He had a short beard that looked unshaved rather than intentionally grown.

“I’m Lucy Jameson,” the older sister told the man. “This is my sister, Brittany.”

He nodded. “I know.”

Lucy leaned closer to him and said something Ray couldn’t hear. Larry’s gaze flicked up to Ginger, then back at Lucy. “That’s right, I’m like a bodyguard.”

Lucy nodded, apparently satisfied. “Is that like a bouncer? I went to work with Mama sometimes, and she introduced me to the bouncer at the bar where she worked.”

Again, Larry nodded. “I’m the man to come to if you get scared of anything, okay?”

“Okay.”

Larry straightened and looked around. “Hey, boss,” he said to Graham, “where’re those trip escorts we’re supposed to have flying with us?”

“I just got a call from Helen Courtney,” Graham said. “She told me they had some car trouble and they’re running late, but they’ll be on the flight with us.”

Larry was close enough to Ray when he drew Graham aside that Ray could hear them. “You check ’em out? Are they legit?”

“One of my renters, Mrs. Engle, set us up with them. They’ve been on board with this plan for several weeks, coordinating our requests.”

Larry glanced in Ray’s direction and his eyes narrowed, as if some inner radar ignited his suspicion. “Can’t be too careful.”

Lucy grabbed her sister’s hand. “Brittany, you’ve got to stay with us, okay?” Lucy said. “No wandering off, and you can’t talk to strangers. I mean it.”

“Okay.” Brittany turned and smiled up at Larry Bager, even though she’d just met him. “My teacher says airplanes are as safe as riding a school bus.”

Lucy nudged Brittany. “School bus? Not even close. You aren’t with a bunch of kids on this flight. These are grown-ups, and you know what Mama always said about talking to strangers, especially grown-ups.”

Aunt Ginger gave Lucy one of her raised-eyebrow looks over her shoulder. “Stop with the fear tactics, my dear. It’ll only make things worse.” She gave a sharp nod.

Lucy knew what the nod meant. It meant: Especially after scaring Brittany to death last night.

But that hadn’t been a dream standing in the window, and Lucy knew it, no matter how much Aunt Ginger tried to convince her everything was okay.

Lucy had seen Rick Fenrow. She knew the difference between a dream and a real man. She could close her eyes and see that face. Shaggy black hair, shaggy black eyebrows that looked like caterpillars. White face.

Brittany probably didn’t even remember how scared everybody had been last night. Those kinds of things never bothered her much. Why should they? Lucy was always there to make sure nobody hurt her. Brittany didn’t know everything about Mama’s killer.

Last night, even with Blaze Farmer and Dane Gideon standing guard at opposite ends of the house until morning, Lucy hadn’t been able to sleep.

Why couldn’t Blaze come with them to Hawaii? Blaze was strong and kind, and he didn’t think he was too good to talk to little girls.

But Blaze had already agreed to take care of the farm for Graham while they were gone, so he couldn’t go with them.

Lucy kept a lookout for the man she’d seen last night. Once in the jet, settled in her seat by the window, she studied everyone who entered.

Aunt Ginger sat in the seat between Lucy and Brittany. Uncle Preston sat directly across the aisle from them, with Willow and Graham in front of him.

Once, Lucy had asked if Aunt Ginger and Uncle Preston were boyfriend and girlfriend. Aunt Ginger had laughed, saying that, biologically, she was old enough to be Uncle Preston’s mother.

Lucy didn’t know what biologically meant, but Uncle Preston had a girlfriend now. Her name was Sheila, and she was nice.