Authors: Kate Vale
Not nearly as pleasant as her dinner with Matt
, images of which swam into view. A topic off-limits for discussion with Quinn, that was for sure. She sensed he would want details she had no desire to share, details that had certain girl parts clamoring for attention.
She gave Bianca a little half-smi
le. “Not that you didn’t luck out, sweetie, when you found Quinn that way. I’m beginning to think that only young people find their soul mates, life partners, whatever you want to call them, on the internet.”
“How often are you
using that site?” Quinn’s forehead no longer resembled a badly-plowed field.
“Oh, maybe once or twice a week.
Gives Lauren and me a giggle when we see some of the things they write. One man said he wanted a woman between twenty and thirty-five. His profile indicated he was in his late seventies. Can you
imagine
what they’d have to talk about?”
Bianca laughed. “I have a feeling he wasn’t planning for much conversation, except maybe the horizontal kind.”
“He’d probably have a heart attack before things got interesting,” Quinn deadpanned, and then hooted. “I’m sorry I came on so strong, Mom. It’s just that—”
“I know. You worry about me. But
you have absolutely no reason to. I have a new career with my artwork. Did I show you the business cards Cammie asked me to carry around?” She grabbed her purse again, rummaged inside and pulled out a card.
“Very nice.” He
barely looked at it before placing the card on the table. Bianca picked it up and slid it into her pocket.
“
Yes, keep it, dear. So you’ll know where to find my note cards and watercolors.” Gillian pushed another card in front of Quinn. “Or maybe recommend them to others.”
“Do you think your attorney would mind if I called and asked him a few questions?” Bianca
was back on topic.
“
Go ahead, if it’ll make you feel better.” Gillian took another bite of her apple and willed her pulse to stop pounding. Her former attorney. Now her dinner partner. What could Bianca possibly ask that Matt couldn’t answer? He kept intruding in her dreams, giving her what she preferred to think of as hot flashes, even though Lauren said she was too young to be having them. “But I’m not going to change a word. In case you were wondering.”
Bianca’s soft voice seemed designed to calm her down.
“I met him at last month’s bar association dinner. He seemed like a nice man.”
She must be a wonderful lawyer, caring,
just like Matt.
“Oh. Did you meet him, too, Quinn?”
He shook his head. “I had a staff meeting at the hotel that night.”
“Well, I’m sure you’d approve of him.” She couldn’t help challenging her son with her eyes. “If you met him.”
“Yes, well … I’ll let Bianca ask him the legal questions.”
“You do that.” Gillian stood, determined to end this meeting before other questions could be asked. Quinn and Bianca followed her to the front door.
“I’ll s
ee you two later.” Gillian gave each of them a brief hug before closing the door and letting out a huge breath.
Well,
that
was interesting.
Two nights later Gillian paced in her living room. Hal had called and they’d agreed on a time for him to pick her up. With each minute closer to Hal’s expected arrival, her anxiety rose. Maybe this
was
a mistake. With her address, he could probably Google her and find out everything about her. More than she’d already shared with him. She peeked out the front window. A car drove slowly down the street. Was that him?
She and Lauren had found an address in Marysville that coincided with Hal’s last name. But not his first name. Some woman was listed as the owner. Together, she and Lauren had decided to ask anyway, and had given that information to her
nephew, a police officer. But Lauren hadn’t called her with an update on whether Hal lived there, if he was who he said he was.
Gillian
was about to dial Lauren when the phone rang. “Lauren? Good timing. I think Hal’s here. I just saw a car go by, like the driver was looking for an address. Did your nephew ever get back to you?” she asked, her scratchy throat suddenly reminding her of a sandy yard filled with tumbleweed.
“
My visit with the grandbabies kept me too busy to check and that’s what I’m calling you about. Bryce said he was going to send me something by email. Let me power up here and see if he did that.
Why
is my machine so slow? I should have checked before I left town last week.”
“
Lauren, hurry. The car stopped. It’s him.”
“Make him wait
, Gilly. If you have to let him in, offer him some coffee or something. Do not get in that car until I know something—or maybe I could call you after you leave.”
“But
what if he really isn’t what he seemed?” A cowboy who didn’t wear cowboy boots. A man who told her he lived in Seattle and then Marysville.
What is it about Hal that makes me nervous?
Or perhaps she was nervous because she’d given him her address. One of Quinn’s big no-no’s.
I should have tried harder to find out about him.
On my own.
Gillian could hear mumbling. Laughter exploded into the phone. “Gilly?”
“What is it?”
“Bryce said he’s sorry for not getting back to me right away. He was in some big investigation when I first talked to him. That’s why he emailed me. It says here that Hal is married. I thought you said he was divorced.”
Gillian
craned her neck in the direction of the living room door. The doorbell trilled. “Widowed. He said she died and he just rang the bell.”
“
Don’t answer it yet. According to Bryce, she must have come back to life. Or maybe he remarried. Whatever. She renewed her driver’s license just last month. Definitely
not
dead.”
“
Anything else?”
Lauren’s voice rose.
“Oh. My. God. Do
not
let him in!”
Gillian paced between the kitchen and dining room,
craning her neck to see around the edge of the front window. She covered her mouth to speak into the phone. “What is it? Hurry, Lauren. He rang the doorbell again. I can’t just let him stand on the porch.”
“Tell him you’re coming
, but don’t open the door.”
“Okay.” She walked closer to the front door and called out, “Coming!” Then she backed up,
gripping the phone tighter.
Lauren sounded excited.
“Gilly, oh my gosh. According to Bryce, the man has a rap sheet—burglary, breaking and entering. The wife has a record, too. Sort of like Bonnie and Clyde, but no guns. Er, they’ve never shot anyone. Yet. In Oregon and across the river in Vancouver. Maybe he figured Seattle was a richer market. Don’t let him in the house. He was probably planning to case the place and then have his wife clean you out while you’re at dinner. I’m coming over. Gilly, wait for—”
Gillian
clicked off her phone and walked to the front door, her heart pounding at what she had heard. What had she gotten herself into?
Why
hadn’t she checked him out sooner?
Why
had she even bothered to say she’d go out to dinner with him? Quinn’s call when they’d been drinking coffee must have shattered her concentration.
After she’d mentioned what
Quinn had said and Gillian’s own misgivings, Lauren had insisted they check out Hal. But Gillian had been too distracted to follow up. Too much stuff going on. Could she get rid of him, or would she have to run back for her phone and dial 9-1-1?
She opened
door a crack, just widely enough to see Hal. He was well-dressed, this time in a regular suit. No Western wear. A soft-sided cap in one hand.
His smile seemed overly bright.
“There you are, Gillian. I thought for a minute that you weren’t home, or maybe you forgot our date.”
“I didn’t forget. But
I have to cancel. I’ve changed my mind.”
“
Why?” He moved closer to the door, curving his fingers around the door frame. “Maybe we could talk about it.” Was he going to push his way in?
She
braced one foot against the door and debated making some excuse. Then she decided to stick with what she knew. “There’s no need.” She glanced down at his whitened fingers, tightly gripping the edge of the door. “You lied to me. Your wife isn’t dead. Is that her car or yours?”
At the mention of his wife, Hal’s face
paled, and then his cheeks turned florid. His smile—Gillian was certain it was pasted on—faded. “I can explain.”
She
shook her head. “You don’t have to. I won’t be talking with you anymore, and we are
not
going out. Not today, not ever.” She closed the door firmly, almost catching his fingers as she did so, and flipped the deadbolt into place.
Gillian leaned against the
door, holding her breath. Did he leave? She heard no receding footsteps on the porch. After a minute that felt like an hour, she edged toward the sidelight and peeked outside. Hal must have tiptoed off the porch. He was headed toward his car as he glanced up the street, first to the right, then to the left. Was he checking for his wife or the cops?
After a brief delay, the
car he’d parked in her driveway backed away and sped down the block before screeching to a quick stop at the corner and turning out of view.
Gillian
sat down on the sofa and let out her breath in a drawn out sigh. So much for her third cyber date. A disaster averted that could have been far worse than the others.
“Is he gone?”
Lauren stage-whispered from somewhere inside the house.
Gillian jumped, her heart
galloping. “You scared me half to death, Lauren!”
“Sorry.” She rose from her position behind the kitchen counter. “I came armed. Just in case.” She held up
Quinn’s old baseball bat and a field hockey stick. “Sorry I didn’t look for Bryce’s message yesterday. When I got home. But the babies wore me out.”
“Wh
at are you doing with Quinn’s stuff?”
“I
snuck in via the garage. Where you put them when you cleaned out the basement sports cave.”
Gillian nodded.
“I need a drink. To calm my nerves.”
Lauren chuckled. “Make mine a double. My
nephew’s coming over to talk to you. Seems you might be able to help them find this guy.”
“Great. Just what I need. Police at my door.”
The doorbell chimed.
Lauren ducked behind the couch, grabbing for the
hockey stick after shoving the baseball bat in Gillian’s direction. “Maybe Hal came back. Take this with you. Just in case.”
Gillian giggled
nervously. “I hope not!” But she stood up and approached the door, the bat behind her back. “Who is it?”
“
Officer Bryce Potter, ma’am. If you’ll open the door, I’ll show you—”
“My
nephew,” Lauren confirmed and stood up, still clutching the hockey stick.
Gillian opened the door. The
young officer was holding his badge at eye level. She looked past it and took in the officer and his partner.
He probably doesn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds dripping wet.
Officer Potter must have read her mind. “I know karate and judo, ma’am.” He stood aside and introduced his partner
, who looked barely old enough to shave.
Gillian’s cheeks flushed. “Come in, both of you.”
Lauren squealed and pulled her nephew into a hug, which prompted a little cough behind his partner’s hands.
Bryce
shrugged out of her arms. “I’m on duty, Aunt Lauren.”
“Sorry
,” Lauren said. “We were going to have a slug of something stronger than wine. Do you mind? I don’t suppose you drink when you’re on duty.”
Gillian opened her mouth
to say something.
“You’re
over twenty-one, but why don’t you hold off until after I’ve taken her statement.” He pointed to Gillian. “Mind if I ask you a few questions, Ms. Griffiths?”
“Go a
head. I’ll put on some coffee. Would you like some?”
The two police officers nodded and removed their hats.
Lauren made a hand motion Gillian knew to mean she wanted something extra in her cup.
Irish coffee for Lauren.
Maybe even herself, after the officers left.
Over the next few minutes, Gillian shared what she knew about Hal Eng
elmann, in the process learning that he was being sought by the police in both Washington and Oregon.
After the
officers left, Lauren spoke up. “How much you wanna bet he was using the online dating site to meet women he thought were an easy mark?”