Nora Roberts - Remember When

"Can I help you with something?"

"Yes, ma'am." Max reached for his ID. "I'm Max Gannon, a private investigator.

I'm looking for Laura Gregory."

She looked hard at the identification, with a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. "Oh?"

"It's nothing untoward, Mrs...."

"Gates. Hayley Gates."

"Mrs. Gates. I've been hired to locate Ms. Gregory and verify that she's the Laura Gregory named as a beneficiary in a will."

"Oh," she repeated as the glimmer spread to a sparkle.

"My associate and I... I'm Bill Sullivan, by the way." To Max's annoyance, Jack stepped forward, took Mrs. Gates's hand and pumped it heartily. "We were hoping to speak to Mrs. Gregory personally to verify that she is indeed the grandniece of the late Spiro Hanroe. There was a bit of a family schism in the previous generation, and several of the family members, including Mrs.

Gregory's parents, broke contact." He lifted his hands in a shrug. "Families.

What can you do?"

"I know just what you mean. Excuse me just a minute." She stuck her head back in the door. "Matthew? I'm right outside. My oldest is home sick," she explained as she eased the door closed but for a crack. "I'd ask you in, but it's a madhouse in there. You can see Laura sold the house." She gestured toward the house next door. "Put it on the market about a month ago-rock-bottom price, too. My sister's the realtor who listed it. Laura wanted to sell it fast, and the fact is, she moved even before it sold. She was planting her summer annuals one day and packing dishes the next."

"That's odd, isn't it?" Max commented. "She mention why?"

"Well, she said her mother in Florida was ill, seriously ill, and she was moving down there to take care of her. She lived next door for three years, and I don't remember her ever mentioning her mother. Her son and my oldest played together. He's a sweet boy, her Nate. Quiet. They were both quiet. It was nice for my Matt to have a friend next door, and Laura was easy to get along with. I always thought she came from money though."

"Did you?"

"Just a feeling. And she worked part-time at an upscale gift shop at the mall.

She couldn't have afforded the house, the car, the lifestyle, if you know what I mean, on her salary. She told me she came into an inheritance. It's funny she came into two, isn't it?"

"Did she tell you where in Florida?"

"No. Just Florida, and she was in a tearing hurry to get going. Sold or gave away a lot of her things, and Nate's, too. Packed up her car and zipped. She left... I guess it's three weeks ago. Little better than that. She said she'd call when she was settled, but she hasn't. It was almost like she was running away."

"From?"

"I always-" She cut herself off, eyed them both a bit more cautiously. "Are you sure she's not in trouble?"

"Not with us." Max sent out a brilliant smile before Jack could speak. "We're just paid by the Hanroe estate to find the beneficiaries and confirm identification. Do you think she's in trouble?"

"I can't imagine how, really. But I always figured a man-ex-husband-somewhere in the background, you know? She never dated. Not once since she's been here.

And Laura never talked about Nate's father. Neither did Nate. But, the night before she listed the house, I saw a guy come by. Drove up in a Lexus, and he was carrying a box. All wrapped up with a bow, like a birthday present, but it wasn't Nate's birthday, or Laura's either, for that matter. He only stayed about twenty minutes. Next morning, she called my sister and put the house on the market, quit her job, and now that I think about it, she kept Nate home from school for the next week."

"Did she tell you who her visitor was?" Jack made the question conversational, as if they were all out here enjoying the spring weather and shooting the breeze. "You must've asked. Anybody'd be curious."

"Not really. I mean, yes, I mentioned I'd seen the car. She just said it was someone she used to know and clammed up. But I think it was the ex, and she totally freaked. You don't just sell your house and your furniture and drive off that way because your mother's sick. Hey, maybe he heard about this inheritance and was trying to wheedle his way back so he could cash in. People can be so low, you know?"

"They certainly can. Thanks, Mrs. Gates." Max offered a hand. "You've been very helpful."

"If you find her, tell her I'd really like her to call. Matt misses Nate something fierce."

"We'll do that."

"He got to her," Jack said as they started back to the rental car.

"Oh yeah, and I don't think there was a birthday present in the pretty box.

She's running." He glanced back at the empty house. "Running from him, running with the diamonds, or both?"

"Woman runs like that's scared," was Jack's opinion. "Odds are even if he dumped the diamonds on her for safekeeping, she doesn't even know she's got them. Crew's not a man to trust anybody, especially an ex-wife. That's my take on it. So... are we going to Florida to work on our tans?"

"She's not in Florida, and we're going back to Maryland. I'll pick up her trail, but I've got a date with a beautiful redhead."

***

"You'll drive." Crew shifted the gun from Laine's kidney to the base of her spine. "I'm afraid you'll have to climb over. Do it quickly, Ms. Tavish."

She could scream, she could run. She could die. Would die, she corrected as she lowered herself into the passenger seat, maneuvered over the center console. Since she wasn't willing to die, she'd have to wait for a reasonable chance of escape.

"Seat belt," Crew reminded her.

As she drew it around to secure, she felt the lump of her cell phone in her left pocket. "I'll need the keys."

"Of course. Now, I'm going to warn you once, only once. You'll drive normally and carefully, you'll obey the traffic laws. If you make any attempt to draw attention, I'll shoot you." He handed her the keys. "Trust me on that."

"I do."

"Then let's get started. Head out of town and take Sixty-eight, east." He shifted his body so she could see the gun. "I don't like to be driven, but we'll make an exception. You should be grateful to your dog. If he hadn't been in the back, we'd have gone out that way and you'd be taking this ride in the trunk."

God bless you, Henry. "I prefer this position." As she drove she considered, and rejected, the idea of flooring the gas or trying to whip the wheel. Maybe, just maybe, that kind of heroic action worked in the movies, but movie bullets were blanks.

What she needed to do was somehow leave a trail. And stay alive long enough for someone to follow it. "Were you what scared Willy into running into the street?"

"One of those twists of fate or timing or just bad luck. Where are the diamonds?"

"This conversation, and my existence, would both be over very quickly if I told you."

"At least you're bright enough not to pretend you don't know what I'm talking about."

"What would be the point?" She flicked a glance at the rearview mirror, let her eyes widen, then slid her eyes toward it again. It was enough to have him turning his head, looking behind. And when he did, she dipped her hand in her pocket, played her fingers over the buttons, praying she was counting correctly, and hit what she hoped was Redial.

"Eyes on the road," he snapped.

She gripped the wheel with both hands, squeezed once and thought, Answer the phone, Max, answer the phone and listen. "Where are we going, Mr. Crew?"

"Just drive."

"Sixty-eight East is a long road. Are you adding interstate abduction to your list?"

"It would hardly make the top of it."

"I guess you're right. I'd drive better if you weren't pointing that gun at me."

"The better you drive, the less chance there is it will go off and put an ugly hole in your very pretty skin. True redheads-as I assume you are, given your father-have such delicate skin."