Part 3 (1/2)
”What do you mean, you aren't coming back today?” Lauren could almost hear his scowl through the phone. ”I thought we agreed that you would change your plane reservations.”
”Actually, you suggested it; we didn't agree. I want to be sure Meg is okay before I leave.”
A long moment of silence followed. Lauren knew Jeff was taking a deep, meditative breath to calm himself. ”Okay. We can still salvage our trip. Instead of just sitting around waiting to hear from Meg, you can rent a car and drive to my aunt and uncle's house in Virginia. They've wanted to meet you for over a year now, ever since we got engaged. It'll be a nice, relaxing drive, and you can forget about Meg for a while.”
She didn't want want to forget about Meg, she just wanted to know her sister was safe. to forget about Meg, she just wanted to know her sister was safe.
”I can't do that, Jeff. I wanted to stick around here in case she calls.”
”For Pete's sake, can't anyone there take a message?”
After dealing with Drew, Lauren didn't feel up to an argument with Jeff. She refrained from commenting as he laid out the reasons why a two hour drive to the Virginia countryside to see John and Betty Duchaine would be a good way to spend her time. As he finished, Jeff added, ”I'll be free tonight between dinner and my racquet ball game. Give me a call at eight fifteen, okay? I want to hear how your visit went.”
”Hmmm,” Lauren said, still wondering how to tell him she'd rather sit in Georgetown and worry about Meg than drive to Virginia to see people she didn't know. Still, the evening phone call to him could ease part of her problems. ”How much time will you have between dinner and racquetball?”
”Twenty-two minutes. Why?”
It might help if she had some experience at this, but you had to start somewhere. ”Do you think that's enough time for phone s.e.x?”
”What? What's gotten into you, Lauren?”
She wondered about that herself. ”I don't know. Do you want to help me find out, or not?”
”I don't even know how to do that.”
”You just describe what you're doing.” The idea of hearing Jeff whisper suggestive things in her ear intrigued her.
”Lauren.” She could already hear disapproval in his tone. ”Don't you think that's a little low cla.s.s?”
”No. Lots of people do it, and it has nothing to do with cla.s.s.”
”We've never done it.” never done it.”
”There's a lot of things we've never done. That doesn't mean we can't try them.” She tried to be patient, reminding herself that she was pus.h.i.+ng against the very thing that had drawn her to Jeff, his predictable, conservative nature. He was her anchor, the person who kept her grounded whenever Meg's lifestyle threatened to throw her calm life into chaos. Years of rescuing Meg from disastrous relations.h.i.+ps had made Jeff appealing. She just hoped he could stretch those sensibilities a little.
”I'll, um, think about it,” he said.
”Okay.” It looked like she'd have to settle for that for now.
”In the meantime, meeting Uncle John and Aunt Betty will be the perfect antidote to spending a couple days in Meg's world.”
Back to that again. ”Meg's world isn't so bad, and I'm concerned about her. Anything could have happened-”
He cut her off. ”Meg is a big girl, Lauren. She'll come home eventually, no doubt with some sordid explanation of why she disappeared for a day.”
”Three days, actually.”
He hadn't heard her. ”Trust me, you're better off spending your time with my aunt and uncle. Just don't tell them about Meg. After all, we're hoping she gets this marriage annulled, right? So there's no need to mention it. I'm looking forward to hearing what you think of Uncle John's antique car collection. You can tell me all about it when you call tonight.”
”At eight fifteen.”
”Right. Great, I'll talk to you then. 'Bye.” The phone went dead before she could respond.
Disgusted, she tossed it aside. No one seemed to be concerned about Meg but her-and Gerald. And he was downstairs with Drew.
She'd already decided it was best to avoid Drew. When they weren't arguing, she found herself noticing the devilish appeal of his smile, or the snug fit of his jeans. But by early afternoon, when she'd read the airline's in-flight magazine cover-to-cover and her stomach was growling, she went downstairs.
She found Drew and Gerald right where she'd left them.
Gerald stood at the kitchen island, surrounded by enough food to stock a small deli. He looked up with a smile. ”Hey, Lauren. Did you get caught up in your work? We were about to send out a search party, weren't we, Andrew?”
Drew twisted the top off a beer and drank before answering. ”No.”
Gerald gave an exaggerated sigh. ”It's an expression, stupid. And it was rhetorical.”
”But inaccurate.” Drew popped a pretzel in his mouth and smiled sweetly at her. ”She wasn't lost. I'm willing to bet Lauren Sutherland has never been anywhere but where she was supposed to be, and never caused anyone a moment's concern. Am I right?”
She didn't know what she'd done to get under his skin, but he was definitely displeased with her. She lifted her chin, determined not to let him get to her. ”That's right, Creighton. Dependable and predictable, that's me. You know what else? I'm always on time, too. What horrible qualities.”
She helped herself to lunch, standing next to Gerald as they pa.s.sed condiments back and forth. Drew was in constant motion, pacing restlessly from sink, to refrigerator, to table, to window. When he grabbed a piece of cheese from the counter in front of them, Gerald lowered his sandwich and addressed him in a firm tone. ”Andrew. Stand still. I can't eat when you're running circles around me. I'm getting winded just watching you.”
”Sorry.” Drew stuck his hands in his pockets and stood still. Half a minute later he grabbed a handful of chips, chomping through them with the efficiency of a wood chipper sucking in branches. Then olives. Then deviled eggs. Then he cracked his knuckles.
Gerald's sandwich hit the plate. Throwing a sharp glare at Drew, he picked up his food, grabbed a beer bottle, and stalked across the kitchen to sit at the table. Lauren stayed at the island. She might not feel as hyper as Drew, but she was too unsettled to sit down.
”I know, I know,” Drew grumbled. ”I'm not good at waiting. I prefer action.” He picked up a plum, looked at it, then put it down. ”And I'm starting to get worried.”
Lauren lowered a forkful of potato salad. ”You, too?”
”Of course me, too.” His gaze speared her. ”Why wouldn't I be worried? My dad calls to say he got married, I scramble to get here, and no one knows where he is. For over three days now! He's a United States senator, for G.o.d's sake. Someone Someone must know where he is. You don't just lose track of those people.” must know where he is. You don't just lose track of those people.”
”Oh.” She'd nearly forgotten that his father couldn't be located either. ”I understand. I feel the same way about Meg.”
Drew smiled, a cold gleam in his eyes. ”I wouldn't worry too much about her. You'll probably get a postcard any day now from some tropical island, one that doesn't have an extradition treaty with the United States. I just hope she tells you in what remote location she ditched my dad, so we can rescue him.”
Her resentment flared. ”Did it ever occur to you that something might have happened to Meg, too?”
Drew studied her, looking much more calm now that he had her riled up. ”You mean other than fleeing the country? No, I can't say that it has.”
The arrogant b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Lauren pushed her plate away and faced him. ”You're wrong. All you have to do is check that stupid safety deposit box and you'll see that all your precious jewelry is still there.” Even if it were gone, Meg had every right to take it as Harlan Creighton's wife. Yet she didn't think pointing that out would make Meg look any better.
He lifted an eyebrow. ”What a brilliant idea.”
Gerald spoke up from across the room. ”I told you, only the senator or Mrs. Creighton can open the safety deposit box.”
Drew nodded. ”And they aren't here. And the bank closes in”-he checked his watch-”three hours. Tomorrow's Sat.u.r.day, so it won't be open. I guess we'll have to wait until Monday before we'll know for sure how much Meg ran off with. If they don't show up by then, we can probably persuade the police to open the box.”
No way. Whether they ended up calling the police, or not, Lauren wasn't going to have Drew Creighton accusing her sister of theft all weekend, especially if it might delay a search for Meg. ”Take me to the bank. I'll pretend I'm Meg and you can open that d.a.m.n box, which will prove she didn't take anything. I can forge her signature, and we look so alike that no one will question me.”
Drew slapped his hand on the granite countertop, suddenly energized. ”Excellent. I'll get your coat. Get the spare key, Gerald, and some sort of ID for Lauren that says she's Meg. If they ask, she can pretend she left her driver's license at home.” He strode toward the doorway as he talked, then paused to look back at Gerald, who frowned at him from the table. ”Let's go,” Drew said. ”The bank closes soon.”