She slipped away hastily, aware of the stunned gaze and avoiding the questions that were bound to follow. It was something to think about, the idea of an overnight stay, and she had managed to drop the bomb without committing herself. Better yet, she no longer minded that "dirty old lecher" feeling now. It had a special thrill, this thing she was contemplating, deliberately setting out to seduce a young stranger in the night. A wicked thrill, sure, but her qualms of conscience had all been erased back out there in the car. Any girl who thumbed a ride wearing just a raincoat could only be considered fair game, regardless of age. A man picking her up would have made that assumption, certainly, why not a woman? Ah yes, it was thrilling to play the huntress on the prowl, the huntress stalking her prey. Especially when the prey was so appetizing a tidbit. Why worry about conscience at a time like this?
Conscience? Appetizing tidbit? Vera's head cleared, aided first by the rainy air and then by the busy brightness of the big cafeteria. Wasn't she getting her priorities screwed up? Such a treasure, that kid out there, a priceless nugget; how stupid to squander it on a quick thrill, a one-night stand. Why not make use of her? The seduction would have to wait. I'm thinking with my head now, not my clitoris. If the girl was afraid to be seen, why put her in danger here, why hang around and invite trouble? No motel cabins, no quickies, no sex for the sake of sex alone. A woman with money worries couldn't afford to waste her resources. Money worries and a maid about to quit, a very necessary maid, essential to her plans. Where would she ever find another Solange? And then what would happen to the Alison scheme? It would all come tumbling down like a house of cards.
Okay, then, no wasted resources. Wouldn't the little runaway make an ideal houseguest? For a few days, anyhow. Perhaps even longer. A cute little play-toy to amuse Solange and keep her from quitting. Which, in turn, would allow more time to work on Alison. So maybe the lawyer in Springfield wasn't so smart after all, maybe there was a way out…
Laden with sandwiches and coffee containers, Vera braved the elements again and returned to the car. It looked empty, giving her a panicky moment or two. Then she breathed a sigh of relief as the curly head popped up and the door swung open. Thank heaven! Nice to be able to trust her own judgment; the kid was still here.
"You're loaded. Wait, let me help."
"Thanks. I didn't see you. Watch the coffee, it's hot."
"I I was just relaxing. You took so awfully long in there."
Vera shrugged, disguising her more immediate reaction with the business of apportioning the food. Just relaxing. That too was probably a fib. The scared youngster must have ducked down to avoid the notice of any customers entering and leaving the restaurant, few as they were in this weather. Judy Jones definitely had something to hide. Even her name might be a phony.
"Mmm, good. I sure appreciate this. But, uh, about what you said a while ago. You know. Vera? Are you going to take a cabin and stay over?"
"I'm giving it some thought."
"Don't you have to get to… uh… "
"Malvern. But there's no hurry, at least not for me. What about you, dear? Must you keep traveling? I dread the idea of putting you out to hitch a ride in this miserable rain. Are you in a rush to get to California?"
"N-no, not really. Uh, my aunt doesn't even know I'm coming, so another day won't make much difference. But the rain isn't so bad now. And besides, I couldn't afford to pay for a "
"Hush. You'd be my guest. If we stay, that is. But you're right, the rain does seem to be letting up. Hmm. I wonder. If there's really no hurry about California… "
"Ma'am? I don't understand."
"Why not be my guest anyway? At home, I mean. Never mind the cabin, we won't need it now. We'll drive straight through and you can spend a few days with me. Won't that be better? Especially if that nasty stepfather of yours comes chasing after you. He might have notified the police, isn't that always a possibility?"
"Well… yes… "
"In that case, you ought to lie low awhile. You'd be safe with me, much safer than on the road. And I'll help you get started when it's time to leave again. There now, how does that sound?"
"Sounds great. You're sure I won't be any bother?"
"No bother. I've got a maid who never has enough to do. I know she'll just love taking care of you. It's settled then, okay? I'm ready to roll and wide-awake now, the coffee really worked. After you've finished eating, why not take a little nap? Just curl up and forget your troubles, my dear. You're in good hands."
"I I am kind of tired. But if you want me to stay awake and talk and keep you company… "
"We'll have plenty of time for that later. All the time in the world, hmm? Go to sleep now. I've got a lot to think about, something private and personal. I'm trying to gain some new perspectives on an old problem. Too complicated to explain, even to myself. I'll just mull it over while I'm driving."
Chapter 3
Vera Carlisle's problem was complicated indeed. Her third husband, the late and unlamented Gustave Carlisle, had left her "comfortably" well off, but she was hardly the type of woman to live within such limitations. Especially since she had expected more, an inheritance of a certain magnitude, in keeping with the mansion and its surrounding property. And with the Carlisle name and social position, of course. All of which was hers now plus the insurance settlement but it still didn't amount to much, not nearly enough to cover her hoped-for standard of living. Alas, the real estate was mortgaged. And with her monthly stipend so small, she was finding it difficult just to keep up appearances. How awful to look so rich and be so poor!
It would all be coming to a head soon, too. A second mortgage was still possible, but her lawyer in Springfield had advised against it strongly; what would happen to her when that money ran out? His advice had been to sell the place while it still had value above its one mortgage, sell out now and live in comparative comfort all of her remaining years. Comfort, if not style. Or less pretentiously, at least. Regardless, it would mean the abdication and surrender of her social position and what else, really, did she have in this world? It was her stock-in-trade. Surrender without a fight? Hell, no! In fact, she had already begun her campaign to brighten that bleak prospect; hadn't it brightened considerably tonight?
The rain-squall had passed over. Vera drove with confidence again, making time on the drying concrete pavement, paying only scant attention to her companion. Not that she wasn't conscious of the sleeping kid. Every detail of tonight's encounter had been sifted and catalogued in her mind. But the sexy feeling had faded somewhat, replaced by a sense of exhilaration, an almost smug involvement with her righteous decision. It was as if an invisible rainbow beckoned up ahead. A rainbow named Alison Laird, ah yes, lovely rainbow! Lovelier still for its pot of gold. Hmm. In a way, maybe rainbow's end had become more of an attraction than the rainbow itself…
But no, that wasn't quite fair. Vera chided herself, recalling a certain unrequited desire for the beautiful young divorcee long before her money entered into the picture. Alison was small-boned and exquisitely formed, still youthful enough to wear her shining hair yellow, the color of cornsilk in a bob more suitable to a college coed. Short and straight. On her it looked good, though. But then, well, so did everything else. The velvety dark eyes, the rosebud lips, the ivory skin that so often took on a pink tinge: a true beauty, projecting a kind of innocence despite her tumultuous marriage and rather unsavory divorce.