Part 10 (2/2)

”Of course, Tara. Let me take you to her.”

Woodrow took the hand Tara offered. She was now solidly between him and the reporter, but the woman was a pro and was hanging in. He called over Tara's shoulder, smiling but nervous.

”Call my office and I'll be happy to discuss this with you.

I'll provide information that you'll find very interesting.”

Woodrow was sweating, saying too much, too loudly.

Ben wheeled himself into the fray, further distancing the woman.

”Woodrow, I'm afraid I've got to run, but I did want to have a word*” ”Mr. Weber,” the woman called, attracting too much attention by design.

”Did Strober, in return, funnel over thirty thousand dollars into your campaign coffers from various subsidiaries? Mr. Weber, this isn't a hard question. Are they still giving you money at the expense of public safety?”

Stunned, Woodrow stood beside Tara. His hand on the small of her back trembled, but his political sensibilities were intact. He moved slightly, facing the stringer, smiling just in case a rogue camera was about ”I think you have some misinformation. I'd like to talk about that situation rather than give you quick answers that could be misconstrued. Now, if you'll give me your card, I'll call you personally and set up the appointment. I can see by the look on your face that you want to make this more than it is. Give me my say, that's all I ask. I'm not going to fight with you. So either accept our hospitality and enjoy yourself tonight, or let's set up something between the two of us. After that, print what you like.”

The woman eyed Woodrow, a.s.sessed the situation*Ben, Tara, and a continually curious Mr.

Beckley*then made her decision.

”I'll call you,” she said.

They watched her back as she bee lined for the front door. Woodrow mumbled his thanks to them all as he fished for his handkerchief, wiped his brow, and went the opposite way. Ben had wheeled backward as Mr. Beckley moved in on the group, wondering what that was all about. And Tara, who almost turned her eyes away when the reporter pushed through the door, was thrilled a minute later that she hadn't. Donna Ecold burst through, a tiny little thing blown in with the wind. Her eyes were wide. Her hair disheveled, her lips parted. To call for Tara? To ask for help?

Tara slid away, the world falling out of focus. She barely heard Ben call her name. She wasn't aware that Charlotte had joined Woodrow. Tara only knew she had to get to Donna. Slowly at first, then faster she went, until her heels seemed to crash onto the tiles in her haste. She was stopped by a knot of people.

Tara feigned left, then right before getting around them. That's when Donna saw her.

They were so close Tara could almost reach out and touch her. She was almost close enough to talk, but before Tara could ask if she was all right, before Tara could ask where Bill Hamilton was, she saw his reflection in the door. His image was liquid and one dimensional in the gla.s.s. Bill Hamilton, time traveler caught between dimensions. Then he saw her too, and the mother-of-pearl-colored Bill Hamilton smiled slowly, contentedly, and gave her a wink just as Tara gathered Donna into her arms.

”Tara, please, not in public.” Donna laughed and pried herself away.

”I'm sorry. I'm sorry,” Tara breathed, her eyes flicking toward the door. He was gone, reflected now only in her mind.

”I'm sorry. I'm just so happy to see you. You looked so worried when you came in. Then Woodrow. There was this incident Hey, nothing. Sorry. I'm not making any sense. Long day.” Tara ran her hands down Donna's arms. She felt good. So little, but intact.

”Must have been a killer,” Donna said.

”You have no idea,” Tara answered, drawing her into the lobby.

”Hey, what are you doing?”

”I thought we'd go in.” Tara stumbled, realizing how ridiculous that sounded. She couldn't drag Donna away from the man outside without an explanation and she couldn't give an explanation.

What Tara knew about Bill Hamilton couldn't be shared even with the woman who climbed into bed with him every night.

”Nothing. I don't know what I was thinking.” Her smile was shaky but she managed it.

”Good,” Donna put her arm through Tara's.

”Now, where's your coat?”

”Left it over there.” She tossed her head back and followed the gesture. Coat in hand, she was retracing her steps when she saw Ben watching her from across the room. He made no attempt to intercept her. Tara almost wished he had. Realizing it was best, she lifted her lips sadly in something that could have been a smile but pa.s.sed more as an acknowledgment that situations had never been on their side. She left La Posada without another word to anyone and joined Donna, who was already cuddled up with Bill Hamilton in the car.

”Tara, you hardly ate anything. We should have gone somewhere else.

Greek was never your favorite.”

Donna was draped over the back of the seat, her arms crossed, her chin atop them.

”It was fine. I'm just tired.”

”Long day, huh, Tara?” Bill yawned and used his free hand to touch Donna's hair. She cooed and got closer to him.

”When you gonna get a real job, babe? Somethin' that makes a difference in the world.”

Donna giggled and turned her head into his caress.

”I do make a difference. Every little kid who reads one of my books believes that there's a happy ending just waiting for them out there.”

”I haven't read your books and I believe that too.” Bill Hamilton was purring, his hand on the back of her neck now. Tara looked away. In the dark of the car the scene was too intimate*too frightening*but Bill wanted her attention.

”What do you believe, Tara? You believe in happy endings?”

She put her hand to the side of her head and rubbed her temple. She thought she did. She'd been living a happy ending all her life.

”I believe in the right ending. The one that's best for everyone.”

”Does that always mean the bad guy gets it in the end?” His eyes were in the rear view mirror.

Tara could only wonder if they were also on her.

”I don't know, Bill. I don't know,” she said, her voice a worn-out whisper.

”I don't think so. Bad guys can have reasons for being bad. What do they call that? Extenuating circ.u.mstances.

That's it. d.a.m.n, I love those lawyer words. What do you think, Tara?”

”Oh, let her rest,” Donna murmured, turned around now, her head on Bill's shoulder.

”We've been playing all day and she's been working. Don't tease her.”

”You're right, Donna. I won't tease. I'll just drive. Man, I love to drive.”

Donna mumbled her thanks. Tara let her head fall back on the seat and closed her eyes. They would be home soon and she could think. But the car was moving strangely. Faster now than Tara knew the speed limit allowed. Bill took a left. Tara opened her eyes. She rotated her head to see the landscape changing. They weren't headed home, but out of town. She sat up. Even Donna noticed the change in route.

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