Crown's Law (37 page)

Yeah! About 24 hours, then into bed we
go!

She considered discussing it with Becky, but
what would she say to her? Becky stacked their empty plates and
took them into the kitchen. When she was gone, Sam looked at Bo,
knowing what she was thinking.

He took her hand and said, “Let it drop, Bo.
No explanations are needed. I told you she would find out. She even
seemed pleased. Since she’s been scheming to make us a couple,
she’ll take credit—in her own mind—for the whole thing.”

“I feel terrible! Like I lied to her, or
something!” wailed Bo in a soft whisper.

“We’ll survive. Now we don’t need to sneak
around.”

“She bugged me about her ceremony again. Even
offered to buy me an airline ticket. You can guess how that made me
feel!”

“I told you she would manipulate you. She’s a
chip off the old block. I want you there, too.”

“Yeah, but for different reasons, you
lecher!”

“Well, if I’m a lecher, you’re a lecheress,”
he laughed.

“Thanks to you,” she smiled.

“But I want you there for Becky, too. It
would mean a lot to her. She’s never had a friend like you. I think
she is grooming you to be her surrogate mother. One that she won’t
have to hate.”

“I’m the wrong choice for that, for a lot of
reasons. One being that I live 3000 miles away,” replied Bo, though
it pleased her to hear it.

“Just don’t dash her dream. A phone call
here, an email there. She’ll forget this in time—as she grows older
and gets immersed in her academic profession,” said Sam.

“Poor dear. Whatever happened to her evil
parents?”

“Don’t ask. I never want her to know.”

Bo stared into Sam’s eyes and got a fleeting
glimpse of flashing steel. She knew, somehow, that he had handled
it. She didn’t dare speculate how.

“We have a big decision to make,” stated
Sam.

“What?”

“Can I hug and kiss you in front of
Becky?”

“Oh my! That is a difficult decision! At
least for me,” she answered with a frown. When she saw Becky
returning, she removed her hand from Sam’s. He frowned. Becky saw
the move.

Becky sat down next to Bo, looked at her and
smiled.

“Sometimes life is like a movie, Bo. Like my
prom. When it happens, don’t let it get away. Live it.”

“Are you sure you’re not a philosophy major,
Becky?” laughed Bo. “You’re pretty deep at times for a
16-year-old.”

“That’s only my chronological age, Bo. You
keep forgetting that,” replied Becky with a wink. “You and Sam may
show affection toward each other in my presence without harming my
psyche.”

“We can, can we?” laughed Bo.

“Yes. In fact, it would please me to know
that you like each other.”

Sam growled, “Don’t go getting pushy, young
lady. We don’t need your permission to do anything. Remember,
you’re the kid, I’m the adult.”

“Oooo! Big scary ogre!” laughed Becky. She
got up and kissed Sam on the cheek. “I love you, Sam.”

She took the rest of the dishes into the
kitchen, leaving them alone again.

“What an amazing girl!” exclaimed Bo. “How
could one not love her? I’ll have to find a way to come to her
ceremony.”

“Just let me know the details. I’ll do
whatever is necessary to make it work. How about some of my dad’s
150-year-old cognac? I think he smuggled it out of France when he
was still a field agent.”

“Won’t he mind?”

“He saves it for very special people. You’re
special people. You have to try it. It’s unbelievably smooth,” said
Sam. “It’s inside locked up. I’ll go pour us a couple of splashes.
Be right back.”

He got up, leaned over and kissed her on the
lips.

“In case Becky’s watching,” he laughed.

Alone now, Bo lit a cigarette and
contemplated her situation. The only thing she knew for sure was
that she was completely bewitched by Becky. She hadn’t yet really
seen the Becky who was the genius mathematician and physicist. Just
a glimpse of that when Becky gave her the analysis of those
equations—just a page of squiggles to Bo. Bo’s strongest impression
of her was the time she spent getting her ready for her prom—merely
an excited 16-year-old bubbling over with enthusiasm, and yet
professing just a tad of fear about the unknown.

Sam was still a complete enigma. She’d
learned at
The Fisherman’s
restaurant that he had left the sheriff’s department after
saving a woman and her daughter’s lives. Maybe her background check
would clarify things. He had been a Marine in ’Nam. Got the Medal
of Honor. He was a fantastic lover! He loved Becky and would, she
was certain, protect her with his life. He had been gracious, kind,
and considerate to her, Bo. He was a bachelor who played the field;
probably slept with many women. That thought made her flinch. He
was a great cook. What else did she know about him? Zip.

She wondered what he meant when he had said
that Becky’s abusive parents had been handled. The look in his eyes
had not been pretty.

Sam returned with two brandy snifters and put
one in front of her. “There you go. In a fine restaurant, they
would flame these, but I’m not in favor of that ritual.”

She swished her brandy around and sniffed it.
“You’re quite knowledgeable about wining, dining, and all worldly
things, aren’t you, Sam?”

She was probing, trying to get some details
about him. He did not fit the P.I. stereotype.

“I was exposed to a lot of it growing up. My
father was moved around quite a bit—embassies all over the world.
And my mother was—is—a rich society matron. You figure it out. I
knew which fork to use long before I learned to ride a two-wheel
bicycle,” he laughed. “It’s really a lot of useless information if
you live in the real world.”

Becky finished loading the dishwasher and
cleaning the kitchen, grabbed a can of Sprite, and walked to the
open screen slider.

“May the kid have permission to join the
adults, please?”

“Can the sarcasm, missy,” growled Sam.
“Permission granted.”

Becky popped the top on her soda and sat next
to Bo.

“I won’t be going in to the campus tomorrow,
Sam, so if you want company on your morning swim, I’m available. Do
you have to leave early in the morning, Bo?”

“Not unless someone calls and changes my
schedule. I have some things in the works, so I have to go in at
some point and check on progress. Then I have a 3 o’clock plane to
catch.”

She looked at Sam while speaking her last
sentence. She hadn’t told him about the plane yet. And one of her
“works in progress” was the background report on Sam that she had
requested. She experienced a twinge of guilt.

Sam’s face fell, showing disappointment. “I
thought you might be around a little longer.”

“Me, too, but the boss has beckoned. He wants
a meeting of the senior team members on Thursday at 8:00 A.M. They
should have the analysis of Becky’s equations by then. Some
decisions will be made.”

“Well, if the meeting isn’t until Thursday,
you can take a later plane,” smiled Sam, pressuring her.

“I wanted a day at home to get back into my
routine. Shed the jet lag before the meeting.”

“You know best. I just thought we could take
a morning swim, have a nice lunch at the harbor—just the three of
us. Then I could run you by the office in the afternoon, then take
you to the airport later. But we couldn’t do all that and make a 3
o’clock plane,” shrugged Sam.

“I can see where Becky gets her penchant for
manipulation,” laughed Bo. “She’s studied under the master! You two
are unbelievably devious!”

Becky said, “Who?
Moi
?”

“If you’ll fetch me my bag with my phone in
it, Becky, I’ll see what’s available a little later in the day. I
definitely don’t want the redeye!”

Bo changed her flight to one that left at 8
P.M. The 6 o’clock was completely booked. The three of them chatted
for awhile, Bo and Sam nursing their excellent cognac. At 8:45,
Becky yawned.

“I had an early day, so I’m going upstairs. I
have a bit of work to do on my physics thesis, then to bed. I’ll
leave you adults to yourselves,” said Becky.

Bo stood and they hugged.

“Goodnight, Becky,” said Bo. “Sleep
well.”

Becky got a crooked smile on her lips and
replied, “Goodnight. Do you want me to bring your bag down before I
retire? That way you two could stay out here and finish your
drinks.”

Bo’s face felt hot as she sensed the meaning
of Becky’s statement. Becky was suggesting that Bo sleep in Sam’s
room. She was searching for an appropriate answer when Sam spoke
up.

“That’s it, young lady!” He stood. “We need a
little pow-wow right now!”

Becky paled. She had overdone it! Sam was
really pissed off at her! She had gotten just a little bit too
cute!

Bo stood and put her hand on Sam’s
shoulder.

“No, Sam, please. Sit back down. This is
between me and Becky,” she said, then she put her arm around
Becky’s shoulders and added, “Let’s go upstairs, Becky.”

When they were gone, Sam took a gulp of his
brandy and nearly choked.

“Damn!” he muttered.

***

The two women entered Becky’s room and Bo
closed the door. Becky was crying and grabbed several tissues from
a box on her bedside table.

“Bo, I’m so sorry!” she wept. “I’ve insulted
you and hurt you badly! I just wasn’t thinking! It was so childish
of me!”

Bo pulled her to her chest, arms around her,
and said, “You’re allowed to be childish once in awhile. In many
ways, you are a child. But it’s never a child’s place —or an
adult’s place for that matter—to get involved in other people’s
personal lives. Especially not their sleeping arrangements. You had
made your point earlier. That was more than enough. Sam and I are
consenting adults. Decisions of what we will or will not do will be
made by us, not anyone else.”

“I’m mortified, Bo! I like you so much, and I
. . .”

“Shush now! In the future, think before
putting your mouth into gear. This is part of growing up, so don’t
dwell on it too long. Just learn from it. I always had my foot in
my mouth when I was your age. Now, let’s clear the air and forget
it. Let’s go back downstairs so you can apologize to your father.
He’s probably ready to explode!”

“Thank you, Bo! I do sincerely apologize!
I’ve really screwed things up, haven’t I? Between us . . . and
between you and Sam!”

“You came close, but I forgive you. Now go
see Sam.”

Becky ran downstairs and apologized profusely
to Sam, crying again. He stood and took her in his arms and told
her it was OK. Bo came down a minute later with her suitcase and
put it in Sam’s room before joining them on the deck.

Becky kissed them both and went back to her
room.

Sam looked at Bo and said, “Everything
straightened out?”

She smiled. “I think so. She was just being
cutesy and it jumped up and bit her. I think she’ll be more careful
in the future.”

“Sometimes I forget how young she is.”

“I made my share of gaffs when I was her age.
Didn’t you?”

“Never,” he laughed. “So, after all of this,
where are you sleeping tonight?”

“I put my bag in your room. No use messing up
your parents’ bed. Nikki just changed the linens.”

“Now . . . that’s what I call being
practical!”

***

The incident was not mentioned the next
morning, nor was the fact that Bo had slept in Sam’s room. Becky
joined Sam on the last leg of his pier swim, then the three of them
had breakfast on the deck—omelets with champagne and mimosas. Becky
got her laptop and worked on cleaning up one appendix of her math
thesis, and Sam and Bo went for a walk on the sand—hand in hand. It
was a lazy morning, sea gulls and pelicans swooping and diving for
fish.

Later, the three of them had lunch on
the patio at the
Wind & Sea
restaurant at the harbor, then Sam loaded Bo’s bag into his
Camaro and he took her to the FBI office in Santa Ana.

When she called him later, he picked her up
at 5 o’clock and drove to his bachelor’s pad in Tustin where they
had a quickie. Bo was not impressed with his small apartment after
having seen the posh beach house, but it was clean, and adequate
for what they had in mind. The bed was comfortable and the box
springs didn’t squeak.

***

They had dinner at the airport, and then Bo
was gone. Sam had no idea if he would ever see her again, but he
was sure he wouldn’t forget the four memorable days they had
together. They had promised to stay in touch, but he knew how that
went. Out of sight, out of mind. He called Becky at 8:15 and told
her he was going to stay in his Tustin apartment that night. He
knew Bo’s scent was still clinging to the sheets of his bed.

***

After her plane reached cruising altitude and
the pilot turned off the seat belt sign, Bo retrieved the 20-page
document she had picked up at the FBI office. She got comfortable
and began reading about the background of Samuel Crown. She had
been told there was more to come, but she took what they had. The
rest, when it was available, would be faxed to her D.C. office.

Now, Sam Crown, just who in the hell are you
really?

Wednesday, June 6, 2001

Santa Ana, CA

Sam felt an uncharacteristic emptiness when
he got to the office the next morning. He missed Bo already.
Fortunately, Pearl had some work items that needed his
attention—something to focus on. The papers for Becky’s new
corporation had been delivered from the attorney’s office for
signatures by Sam, Pearl, and Becky—the three directors. More
importantly, Judge Manley’s clerk had called and told Pearl that if
Becky could be at the court house at 3:00 P.M., he would handle her
name change request in his chambers. She could be Rebecca Crown by
the end of the day.