Alex turned from her organizing; it wasn’t quite packing yet. Kevin was lounging in the doorway of the room Alex and Daniel had always shared in Val’s home, his left arm braced against the top of the frame. For one second, Alex was irrelevantly jealous of tall people in general. It wasn’t an uncommon feeling these days, always surrounded by giants as she was. She put it away.
“So what?”
“So how did the appointment go today? What did you and Volkstaff conclude?”
He didn’t have to ask where Daniel was now – Daniel’s normal shower-serenade volume would have gotten him in trouble if the other tenants were any closer. The Bon Jovi phase hadn’t passed yet; he was particularly fond of “Shot Through the Heart” at the moment. Alex didn’t find it so funny, but she tried not to let it irritate her.
“The vet thinks Daniel’s good to go. I concur. You Beaches are a charmed breed.” She shook her head, still a little incredulous at how quickly and thoroughly Daniel had healed. “Also, he wants to look at your feet.”
Kevin scowled. “My feet are fine.”
“Don’t shoot the messenger. I mean that literally.”
His frown faded into his normal expression, but he continued to stand there in the doorway, staring at her.
“Sooo…?” she echoed.
“So… do you have any ideas about where you’re heading now?”
Alex twitched her shoulders noncommittally. “Nothing too specific yet.” Like a coward, she turned back to her worn duffel and looked over her stowed chemicals again, checking that they were all appropriately protected from jostling. She might have been going overboard with the organization, she admitted to herself. They probably didn’t need to be alphabetized. But she’d had a lot of time on her hands, and other than surfing the web for possible new digs, she was at loose ends. Daniel had objected to being examined more than four times a day.
“Have you talked to Danny about it?”
She nodded with her back still turned to him. “He says wherever I want to go is fine by him.”
“He’s planning to tag along with you, I guess.”
Kevin’s voice was casual, but Alex knew it must be a strain to keep it that way.
“I haven’t discussed that part specifically with him, but, yes, it does seem to be the assumption.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, and she really had nothing left to do with the bag. She turned slowly to face him.
“Yeah,” he said, “I could tell it was going to go that way.” His expression was indifferent. Only his eyes revealed the depths of his hurt.
She didn’t want to tell the full story, but she felt guilty holding it back. “If it makes you feel any better, he seems to be assuming you’ll be there, too.”
Kevin’s eyebrows eased back from their normal compressed position.
“Really?”
“Yes. I don’t think he’s envisioned any more splitting up at this point.”
Kevin inclined his chin. “I can understand that. Kid’s been through a lot.”
“He’s bouncing back pretty well.”
“True, but we wouldn’t want to traumatize him again. Don’t want him to have a setback.”
Alex knew where Kevin was going with this. She suppressed both a sigh and a smile, keeping her face neutral.
“True,” she said in her serious-doctor tone. “It might be best to keep his environment as stable as possible, aside from all the unavoidable changes.”
Kevin didn’t suppress his sigh. He blew out a huge breath and crossed his arms over his chest. “It’ll probably be an enormous pain, but I guess I can stick close until he’s adapted.”
Alex couldn’t resist pushing back just a tiny bit. “I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to put yourself out. He’ll survive.”
“No, no, I owe the kid. I’ll do what I have to.”
“He’ll appreciate that.”
Kevin met her gaze for one long second, his expression candid, and then suddenly sheepish. The moment passed, and he grinned.
“What’s the general area you’re looking at?” he asked.
“I was thinking maybe the Southwest or the Rocky Mountains. Medium-size city, settle in the suburbs. The usual.”
No one was looking for them, as far as they knew, but Alex was always a fan of playing it safe, just in case. She’d have to use a fake name regardless – Juliana Fortis was legally dead.
Daniel’s singing cut off, then picked up again, muffled by a towel.
“I know a town that might work.”
Alex shook her head slowly. He’d probably already rented a house and set up the new identities. She’d choose her own name no matter what he’d done. “Of course you do.”
“How do you feel about Colorado?”
EPILOGUE
A
dam Kopecky sat today’s files on his desk and reached for the phone with a smile already in place. He had the best job in the world.
Working as an assistant producer for a famous chef’s reality road show could have meant many things, but for Adam, it meant flexible hours, a quiet little office, and a near-constant stream of positivity.
He was in charge of managing the visits to the various mom-and-pop eateries his chef would be featuring on the show, and while he was sometimes jealous of Bess and Neil, who were always on the road trying out every hole-in-the-wall they could find, he believed what he was doing suited his temperament better. Plus, Bess and Neil had to eat a lot of garbage to find the diamonds in the rough, and Neil had gained at least twenty-five pounds in this past year with the show; Adam had cobbled together a standing desk so that his more stationary job would not start to affect him the same way. And then, out of necessity, no one knew who Bess and Neil were, so no one was particularly excited to hear from them.
Thursday afternoon was Adam’s favorite. Today he would call the chosen ones.
The show was heading to the Denver region in a month, and the lucky winners were a barbecue place in Lakewood, a bakery right in downtown, and then the outlier, a bar and grill that was closer to Boulder than Denver. Adam had been skeptical, but Bess insisted that the Hideaway would be the highlight of the episode. If possible, they should be there on a Friday night. The place was a local karaoke hot spot. Adam hated karaoke, but Bess was insistent.
“It’s not what you’re thinking, Adam,” she’d promised. “This place is so cool, Chef’ll need a parka. Doesn’t look like much from the outside, but the style is there. Je ne sais quoi and all that. Plus the owners are seriously camera-ready. The cook’s name is Nathaniel Weeks – so fine, let me tell you. I hate to admit to being unprofessional, but I did make a play. I got zero response. The waitress tipped me off that he was married. The good ones are always taken, right? But he’s got a hot brother, apparently. Plays bouncer for the bar at night. I may tag along with Chef for this one.”
She’d taken a bunch of pictures on her iPhone. As she’d mentioned, the outside was forgettable. It could have been anyplace in the West. Saloon-ish, dark wood, rustic. Most of the other photos were of plates of food that seemed to have too much style for such an unremarkable location. A few of the pictures must have been of the cook she liked so much – tall, full beard, thick curly hair. Adam didn’t think he was especially attractive, but what did he know? Lumberjacks could be Bess’s thing. A small woman with short dark hair was in a lot of the backgrounds, never facing the camera… maybe this was the chef’s wife. He had the names of all the owners off the alcohol license. Nathaniel Weeks was the chef, so Kenneth must be the bouncer brother, and Ellis the wife.
Adam had remained hesitant, but the Hideaway had gotten Neil’s enthusiastic thumbs-up as well. Best food he’d had in the past three seasons.
There were always a couple of backups – a coffee shop in Parker and a breakfast-only diner in Littleton were on this list – but Adam very rarely had to contact the backups. The show had a track record of boosting business by a healthy percentage for the first two months after an episode aired, with an ongoing lift for the rest of the year. There were even a bunch of groupie types who tried to follow Chef’s journey and eat at every place he featured. Chef was always complimentary, and the show regularly pulled in almost a million viewers every Sunday night. It was the world’s best advertisement, and it was free.