Dead Even - Mariah Stewart [72]
“Maybe he got held up someplace.”
“I hope he comes for us before it starts snowing too hard.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll be out of here in no time.” Genna glanced up at Jayne as the waitress served Julianne’s hot chocolate.
“You worried about getting a ride someplace?” Jayne asked.
“I’m sure our friend will show up soon,” Genna replied.
“Well, hey, I’m off in about fifteen minutes. I’d be happy to drop you someplace.”
“That’s very nice of you, but I’m sure our ride will be along,” Genna assured her.
“The offer stands,” Jayne said. “Just say the word . . .”
“That’s nice of her,” Julianne noted after Jayne had cleared the table and disappeared into the kitchen.
“Very,” Genna agreed.
“But I know Daniel will be along soon.” Julianne yawned.
“Tired, sweetie?” Genna asked softly.
“I don’t know why I am.” Julianne covered her mouth as she yawned again. “I just feel so sleepy. . . .”
Genna looked across the diner and met Jayne’s eyes. Jayne nodded and returned to the kitchen. Moments later she came back out, her coat over her arm.
“Well, I’m leaving now. Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off?” she called to Genna.
“Well, maybe you could drive us a few blocks down, and we’ll see if our ride is ready,” Genna called back. “How ’bout that, Julianne? If the waitress drives us back to where Daniel left the car?”
“Not supposed to get into anyone’s car except Daniel’s.”
“I know, sweetie, but this one time will be fine.”
To Jayne, Genna whispered, “Was it necessary to sedate her?”
“Sorry, but yes. We need to get her out, and get her out fast. She’ll be fine, Genna. Won’t even have a headache when she wakes up. But I couldn’t run the risk that she’d be kicking and screaming all the way across the parking lot. We just don’t have time for that. There really wasn’t any option.”
Genna slipped into her coat, then helped the sleepy Julianne ease her arms into the sleeves of her jacket. With a nod to Jayne, the two women and the girl left the diner.
“This is my car,” Jayne said, pointing to a black Jeep with tinted windows.
“It looks just like the reverend’s car,” Julianne said as the two women helped her into the backseat and fastened her seat belt.
“You strap in, too, Genna,” Jayne told her as she hopped into the driver’s side and slammed the door. “We really have to fly now.”
“Why are we flying?” a sleepy voice asked from the back.
“Because we have to get you home, little girl.” Genna turned around to see Julianne’s chin rest upon her chest, her eyes closed. “You’ve been gone a long, long time, and now it’s time to go home. . . .”
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
The storm had passed within the hour, and by three-fifteen, after a minor delay, the plane took off. Miranda gazed out the window as the plane rose into the clouds, which had just started to lift, then closed her eyes. She hated takeoffs and landings. It wasn’t so much that she knew the statistics, that most planes that crashed did so either while headed up or headed down. It was more the change in direction. She liked being on an even keel. Too much up or too much down disturbed her equilibrium and made her feel out of control somehow. And if there was one thing Miranda could not tolerate, it was the sense of not being in control.
She leaned back against the seat and feigned sleep. She didn’t want to talk to anyone right now, particularly Will, who sat in the seat next to her, flipping through the latest GQ that he’d picked up at the airport’s newsstand. She fully understood the similarities between her relationship with Will and her mother’s relationship with her father. That on-again, off-again thing—no strings, no commitment—may have been fine for Nancy Cahill, back in the day, but it wasn’t fine for her daughter. Not this day, not any day. Lucky for Miranda she’d figured it out in time. She could work with Will; she could socialize with Will; but they’d never be lovers again, because as far as she could see, they’d never be anything more than that.
But when she asked herself what more she wanted from him, she had