Free Magic Moment by Angela Adams Page B

ached. Laura was wrong — confused, distraught, frightened, and wrong.
    She did have a point. All could be settled with one phone call. His father’s outrage over Laura’s horrific ordeal would be clear. Dick was fond of her.
    Chase had turned off the phone while driving from Atlantic City, and in the chaos of finding Laura, had forgotten to turn it back on. Flicking the top up with his thumb, he saw the blinking red light. He had two messages. His thumb quickly punched in his four-digit password.
    Both messages were from his father.
    Dick’s first message, logged in shortly before 6:00 P.M. last evening, was short and simple. He didn’t believe his son had a stomach bug. Chase should call immediately.
    The second message had been left close to midnight. Panic gripped him and fear raced up his spine as he listened to Dick Donovan’s incensed voice and digested his words.
    He downed an entire glass of whiskey in one gulp, and replayed the message.
    “Chase, what the hell are you doing?” Dick ranted. “Didn’t I tell you to stay out of that woman’s situation? Why don’t you ever do what you’re told? Chase, sometimes you’re more trouble than you’re worth. Call me immediately!”
    • • •
    Laura stared at the green sweatpants, imagining them as Chase’s neck. She took the garment between both fists and wrung tightly. How could he be so blind? The evidence against his father was right under Chase’s nose. Why didn’t he see it?
    After a final, deadly squeeze, she stepped into the sweats, crawled into bed, and yanked the bedcovers over herself.
    She enjoyed the boat’s gentle rocking motion, but sleep eluded her. Her anger at Chase’s credulity evolved into her own frustration. She wished she had paid closer attention to Daniels’ invoices and packing slips, but after staring at one too many invoices, apples were apples, pears were pears, and zucchini was zucchini.
    She heard Chase enter the room and kept her eyes closed. They had decided at dinner he would sleep on the window seat. She heard him ease the closet door shut and step into the head. Sweats were a handy substitute for sleepwear.
    She smiled, recalling how handsome he had looked at dinner, how the shade of blue he wore brought out the vibrant blue in his eyes. Laura was female, so naturally, she had enjoyed looking at Chase these past three years. She had kept their own office conversations genial but noticed his interaction with others. Where Dick’s exchanges with people depended upon their status or how the association benefited him, Chase was consistent with a greeting, joke, and hearty dialogue for everyone from the most valued customer to the janitor who swept the floor.
    Last night Chase had saved her life; tonight, as a delightful dinner companion, her sanity.
    A low sigh passed through Laura, calming her entire body. She had to remember Dick was Chase’s father. Accepting his father as a heinous individual wasn’t easy. Chase had been attentive, patient with her last night. She had to return the gesture and be patient with him — even if his dim-wittedness riled her.
    She heard him return and settle on the window seat. The ledge wasn’t long enough to recline, but at least he could stretch his legs and press his back against the wall. Before Laura had climbed into bed, she had placed the extra blanket on the window seat. He shook it out, then covered himself.
    She remained motionless, not wanting to disturb her roommate. Her mind was weary, but sleep wasn’t forthcoming. She closed her eyes and started counting zucchini.
    She was up to zucchini number 212, and still not sleepy.
    Drip … drip … drip …
    Laura’s eyes flew open.
    Drip … drip … drip …
    She sat up in the bed. The moonlight’s glow flowed from the uncovered windows, brightening the room. She listened more intensely.
    Drip … drip …
    Prickly rain had started falling. The third window wasn’t closed entirely. The rain fell on the window seat, Chase’s