Farrell’s eyelids were beginning to droop when the phone’s ringing startled him to
wakefulness. He picked up by the third ring.
“Farrell,” he answered wearily.
“Bob, I can’t believe what you just did to our daughter,” came the shrill voice of
his ex-wife, Ann, through the receiver. Though divorced since Jenny’s junior year
in high school, she never missed an opportunity to berate him.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know damned well what I’m talking about. Jennifer just called. She’s upset because
you’re standing her up. She came all the way out here from Omaha to present her fiancé
and–”
“I’m not in a position to entertain tonight,” he cut her off.
“Drunk again?”
He held the receiver away from his ear, took a drag on his smoke, and then a long
pull on the bottle. He finally put the receiver again to his ear.
“No, but I’m working on it,” he said. “If it’s any of your business.”
“You’re breaking her heart; do you know that?” Ann asked.
“She’s not a child, Ann. Jen’s a twenty-four year-old law student; she’ll understand.
Believe me, I didn’t want to stand her up. It was a particularly rough day at work,
and I’m in no condition. I’ll make it up to her.”
“You’ve been saying that for years,” she nagged.
“I’m also not in the mood for any of your crap,” he said. “What do you want?”
“I want you to know how disappointed and angry I am at the way you’re treating Jennifer,”
she said.
“Point taken. Why do you care so much whether I have dinner with Jen and her crummy
boyfriend or not?” As soon as he asked the question, the answer hit him.
“I don’t,” she weakly replied.
“You were going to be there too, weren’t you?” Farrell accused. “At dinner tonight?
That’s why you’re so pissed off about me not showing up. It wasn’t Jennifer who’s
upset over my bailing out; it’s you.”
The silence over the phone confirmed his presumption.
“Well?” he demanded.
“What do you expect me to say?” she huffed. “I thought for once, just once, on the
occasion of your only daughter’s engagement, we could be together as a family and
be civil to one another. Is that so bad?”
“Yes, Ann, it is. I don’t like you, and you hate me. We’re divorced, remember? We
don’t get along. Being together with you under any circumstances is not my idea of
a pleasant evening. And bushwhacking me at dinner is not something I suspect Jenny
had anything to do with; that idea’s got your fingerprints all over it.” He shook
his head, sending shock waves of pain throbbing through his skull. “And to think I
was actually feeling guilty about stiffing Jennifer.”
The sounds of Ann as she began crying emanated from the telephone. Farrell rolled
his eyes.
“Ann, I really don’t need this,” he said.
“You don’t even know what today is, do you?” she sobbed. “You have no idea.”
“Yes, I do,” he said. “It’s Friday. It’s also the day I got the shit kicked out of
me.”
“It’s our silver anniversary,” she cried. “We got married twenty-five years ago today.”
Farrell’s shoulders slumped and his jaw dropped. He stared at the receiver in disbelief.
“That’s why you wanted to have us all together tonight?” Farrell asked incredulously.
“Even though we can’t stand each other? Because it’s our wedding anniversary?”
Truth is, he had no idea it was their anniversary. He didn’t remember their wedding
date, especially since divorcing her.
“I thought it would be… special… for Jennifer to announce her engagement on our anniversary,”
she bawled.
“That’s the craziest thing I ever heard,” Farrell bellowed into the phone. “Our marriage
was a disaster. And you want our daughter to launch her engagement on our anniversary?
Are you nuts? That’s like shooting off fireworks to commemorate Hiroshima.”
Weeping was all he heard in reply.
“Ann,” he said, softening his tone. “Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to–”
“You’ll never understand,” she cut him off. “Men never appreciate the significance
of an anniversary. It doesn’t matter that our marriage fell apart; it began because
we loved each other. The anniversary is supposed to honor the beginning, not the end.”
She cried some more. “You never did understand.”
“Ann–”
“Goodnight,” she said, still wailing. “Enjoy your booze.” The line clicked dead.
“Don’t mind if I do,” he said, reaching for the bottle.
CHAPTER 37
Paige stretched her stiff muscles, her body aching and disjointed. She’d arisen early,
her head thick from alcohol consumption the night before. She splashed water on her
face, tied her hair in a ponytail, and laced on her running shoes. Then she crept
quietly downstairs and out through the rear door.
The morning dew was heavy on the ground, but she sensed the day would be another scorcher.
After executing a series of limbering exercises, she set the timer on her digital
wristwatch and set off.
It felt good to be running again for the first time in over five days. She passed
the long dirt road that served as a driveway and was ascending a path leading up the
hill when she sensed motion behind her. Breaking stride long enough to glance over
her shoulder, she saw Kevin Kearns behind her in the distance. Cody was at his heels.
He was running to overtake her.
Kearns was shirtless and clad in running shorts and shoes. Paige didn’t slow down,
instead continuing her ascent with a steadily increasing stride. To her surprise,
within a few minutes he caught up with her. Cody galloped alongside.
“Whoa, there,” he breathlessly called out as he approached. “You run one helluva pace.”
“If you don’t want to be on stage with the big girls,” she replied without looking
back, “stay in the dressing room.”
“Mind if we join you?”
“Would you leave if I did?”
“Nope.”
They ran together in silence over the brown hills. Paige occasionally looked over
to see how Kearns was managing and was mildly impressed. She’d deliberately stepped
up the pace once he cruised up to her, hoping for the satisfaction of watching him
suffer keeping up. If he was suffering, he didn’t show it.
She knew Kearns possessed the muscular physique of a regular weightlifter, but didn’t
expect him to exhibit the stamina of a consistent runner as well. She also noticed
the scars. Paige knew she was setting a blistering pace, but he showed no signs of
slacking off. In fact, he was smiling.
“I realize you’re trying to run me into the ground,” he said, finally breaking the
silence. “If I concede that you’re tougher than me, will you take it a little easier?”
She nodded, slowing her pace. “I get a little competitive sometimes.”
“So I noticed.”
Several more minutes passed in silence. The sun crested the horizon, and with it the
temperature rose noticeably. The trio ran up and down the rolling knolls, their feet
pounding on the uneven terrain. The vineyards surrounding her aunt’s home below them,
shrouded in mist burning off with the sun’s arrival, created a magnificent view. Kearns
said so.
“It’s spectacular, isn’t it?”
“Are you trying to make small talk?”
“I guess I am. Bothering you?”
“Considering I came out here to be alone, you could say that.”
“What a difference a hangover makes,” he joshed to Cody, rubbing the dog’s neck. “She
was splendid company last night, and this morning she’s back to being the Wicked Witch
of the West.” Cody’s tongue lolled as if in agreement.
“Speaking of last night,” she said, “I found myself in bed this morning with no recollection
of how I arrived and without my clothes. You wouldn’t have had anything to do with
that, would you?”
“Now I know why she’s in such a charming mood, Cody old boy,” he chuckled. “She thinks
I molested her.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to; you were thinking it.”
“I was not. I–”
“Take it easy,” he interrupted her. “I carried you upstairs. Your aunt undressed you.”
“You better not have undressed me,” she said.
“I was only teasing you,” he grinned, “because it’s so easy to do.”
Paige stopped suddenly and put her hands on her hips. Her face was flushed, her breathing
was heavy, and she wore a look of exasperation.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Just what I said,” he answered, coming to a stop alongside her. He too was slightly
out of breath from their run. “It’s easy to poke fun at you because you’re so damned
serious about everything. You’ve should laugh once in a while. For such a beautiful
woman, you sure are a sourpuss.”
“What did you call me?”
Kearns walked up to her, his own hands on his hips, and looked directly into her eyes.
Cody eyed them both. “I said you’re a sourpuss.”
“Before that?”
“I said you’re a beautiful woman.”
Paige wanted to avert her eyes but for some reason couldn’t. The moment was laden.
She felt uncomfortable but, strangely, didn’t want the moment to end. She felt out
of control; an unfamiliar and unpleasant feeling to her. She swallowed and looked
down at her watch.
“I guess we’d better start heading back–”
Her sentence was cut off by Kearns’ kiss. Though taken by surprise, to her astonishment,
she did not pull back. She felt his strong hands cup the sides of her face, and his
lips pressed deeply into hers.
Paige opened her eyes, not remembering when she had closed them. She put her palms
against his chest and pushed, feeling the heat and power of his body. She turned her
head, sensing his reluctance to separate and feeling some of her own. Kearns stepped
back.
As soon as they parted, Paige looked down. Cody looked up at her, panting. Kearns
appraised her evenly.
“I wish that hadn’t happened,” she told the Labrador.
“I would apologize,” he said, “but I’m not sorry.”
“I am,” she said.
With that, and without looking back at him, she whirled and began to retrace their
route at a full run.
“Paige! Wait!”
Kearns started to run after her, Cody again at his heels, but slackened his pace when
he realized she was sprinting. He contented himself to jog along behind her at a distance,
keeping her in view.
“It was only a kiss,” he said to Cody, lengthening his stride.
Paige, Kearns, and Cody ran back to the house. They were oblivious to the watchful
eyes above them, concealed within the foliage surrounding a fallen oak. There, under
the cover of the scrub overlooking the valley, a silent observer kept vigil.
CHAPTER 38
Ray Cowell was careful to keep both hands cupped over the lenses of the binoculars
to prevent a reflection from the glass. He’d learned that technique from reading the
Marine Corps Scout/Sniper Training Manual.
He’d been overlooking the ranch since before dawn from a vantage point high on the
ridge above the basin. Ray saw Paige, Kearns, and Cody leave the house and begin their
winding ascent of the hills. He was easily able to keep them in view without divulging
his hideaway.
Ray was elated. He wasn’t sure the slut would even be at the address in rural Napa,
despite what the housekeeper had told him, until he saw her familiar features outside
at first light.
Ray’s car was parked on a remote fire trail a little more than a mile from the entrance
leading to the Callen ranch, where it was both hidden and accessible. He left his
vehicle covered in burlap strips and tree branches, in the manner he’d seen armored
vehicles camouflaged from view in military history books. A casual observer couldn’t
detect the car from the main road, and someone specifically looking would have to
be almost upon the Hyundai to discover it.
After stashing his car, Ray had hiked several miles around the far side of the hills
behind the ranch and begun his climb to the crest of the hill overlooking it. He’d
brought a powerful flashlight along for the nighttime hike, but with an almost full
moon found he hadn’t needed it.
Ray was dressed in military fatigues. He wore green-and-black jungle boots on his
feet, and a boonie hat adorned his head. His duffel bag had been carefully packed
but was heavier than he’d anticipated. He’d been forced to stop many times during
the early-morning trek to catch his breath and adjust the shoulder straps, which were
cutting into his collarbones, along with his father’s M1 carbine. He was a heavy smoker,
he was unaccustomed to physical exertion, his bruised chest was still sore, and he
hadn’t anticipated how difficult walking through the woods would be under the burden
of his gear. He panted heavily and his legs felt like they were made of lead.
Ray had thoroughly reconnoitered the area via car before embarking on foot, and was
comforted to learn the ranch’s nearest neighbor was over six miles away. He had concocted
a story about hunting in case he encountered anyone but realized that scenario was
unlikely due to the seclusion of the Callen property.
He located the perfect place an hour before dawn. It was in the tangle of a giant
downed oak tree and overlooked the ranch. The tree and the overgrown brush surrounding
it were just over a thousand yards from the rear patio, easily within viewing range
using his high-powered Zeiss binoculars. The spot offered superb concealment.