'I wonder if she knew.'
'If / knew, she probably had a clue.'
'I'm surprised she stood for it. From what I hear, that's not her style.'
'Some women will put up with a lot for twenty million dollars. She was number three. Maybe she didn't want to become the ex-number three.'
Laura paused. 'Is this going to affect our trip to St. Jerome?'
'No way. Stan is going to cover for me when we're gone. I told him I wouldn't handle the case if I had to give up the trip. I'm really looking forward to spending some uninterrupted time with you.'
'Me, too,' Laura told Quinn. He bent down and kissed her and she returned the kiss.
'That's enough smooching,' Laura said. 'If I don't get back to work, I'll be up all night.'
Quinn smiled and gave Laura a peck on the cheek. She seemed excited about the trip to St. Jerome. Maybe she realized how hard she had been working and how nice it would be to take some time off. Quinn hoped that spending time with him had something to do with Laura's good mood. When he walked downstairs to fix himself a snack, he was grinning.
Part Two
The Cove of Lost Souls
Chapter 12.
Can I get you something to drink before we take off?' the flight attendant asked.
Quinn was lost in thought, oblivious to the attendant and the passengers who were filing past his aisle seat in first class while the flight crew prepared for the plane's departure from New York for St. Jerome. When he realized that the flight attendant was speaking to him, Quinn looked up at her with a blank expression and she repeated the question with a pleasant smile.
'Scotch on the rocks, please,' Quinn answered without returning her smile. The attendant turned to the first- class passenger across the aisle and Quinn looked forlornly at the empty window seat beside him. Yesterday Laura had told him that she would not be able to go to St. Jerome.
'Honey, I have really bad news,' she had said in a midday call from her office to his chambers. 'A group of businessmen in Florida are putting together a condominium deal like the one in Maui. They heard about the job I did for Eddie Meyers. They have some of the same problems. The deal is going to be finalized this weekend and I have to fly to Miami tomorrow afternoon so we can meet on Wednesday. Then they want me with them during the negotiations through Saturday.'
There had been stunned silence on Quinn's end. The conference on St. Jerome was from Thursday to Sunday. Quinn was speaking on Thursday morning. He had planned it so that he and Laura would leave on Tuesday and have every day but Thursday to themselves. If Laura had to be in Miami from Tuesday to Saturday, there was no way she could come with him.
'Can't someone else go in your place?' he had asked, but Laura had told him that the clients insisted on her handling the matter personally and were willing to pay a large retainer to secure her services.
'Turn them down,' Quinn had snapped, unable to hide his anger and disappointment. 'There must be hundreds of lawyers in Miami who can review their damn contract.'
'I know you were looking forward to this vacation,' Laura had answered calmly. 'So was I. But this will give me a foothold in Florida. Do you know how many condo deals are made there?'
'I don't care, Laura. This vacation ... I was hoping so much . . .'
Quinn could not finish the sentence.
'I'm sorry, Dick. I'm not in this just for myself. You were a partner at Price. How could I explain turning down a fee like this and losing the potential business?'
Quinn wanted to remind her that she was also a partner in their marriage. Instead, he hung up after assuring Laura that he understood in a tone that let her know that he did not.
The line of boarding passengers started to thin. To distract himself, Quinn took the airline magazine from the seat pocket in front of him and found the crossword. Completing the crossword before takeoff was a ritual that Quinn followed whenever he flew.
'Excuse me. I think the window seat is mine.'
When Quinn looked up he saw a woman standing in the aisle. She was about five feet four and wore a white T-shirt under a red sports jacket. Her jeans were secured at the waist by a brightly colored red and yellow fabric belt with an unusual silver buckle that resembled a seashell.
'I have 2A,' she explained, showing Quinn her ticket.
'Sorry,' Quinn said as he stumbled awkwardly to his feet. As the woman edged by him, she smiled apologetically. Quinn guessed, that she was in her mid-twenties. She was not wearing makeup and she looked tired. Her straight black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Here and there, strands had escaped to add to the picture of an exhausted traveler. The woman had a small nose, full lips and almond-shaped brown eyes that were a little bloodshot. The overall effect was vaguely oriental. Just as the woman sat down, the flight attendant brought Quinn his drink.
'Can I get you anything?' the attendant asked the woman in the window seat. The woman looked at Quinn's drink.
'Is that a Scotch?' she asked him.
'Yes.'
'Then make mine the same.'
The attendant left to fill the order.
'I need a stiff drink,' she told Quinn while flashing a tired smile. 'I just got off a nonstop from Italy.'
'Vacation?' he asked to be polite.
'I wish,' she answered with a pleasant laugh. 'I was in Bologna checking out leather suppliers for my business.'
'What do you do?'
'I'm the president of Avalon Accessories, creators of the best custom-made belts in the known universe,' the woman answered proudly. Then her shoulders sagged dramatically. 'But sometimes I wish I had a partner. All the travel kills me. If I'm not in the shop, I'm on a plane.'
'Do you sell your belts out of your shop?'
'I don't actually have a shop. That's just a figure of speech. I make the belts in a small factory. I sell through specialty shop customers and catalog sales. But I also work with a few fashion designers. They show me their designs for the season and I make belts that are appropriate for the collection.' The woman pointed at her belt. 'This is part of Gretchen Nye's spring collection. Do you like it?'
'I noticed it when you sat down. It's very nice.'
'Nice?' the woman answered with mock indignation. 'You're supposed to say that it's a startlingly innovative combination of style and color that knocked your socks off. Nice doesn't sell Gretchen Nye originals at two thousand a pop.'
Quinn laughed. 'I did mean to say that it was startlingly innovative. It came out wrong.'
'You're forgiven.'
The flight attendant brought the woman's drink just as the plane began taxiing toward the runway. She swallowed most of it, then sat silently during takeoff. Quinn could see that her knuckles were white from tension. As soon as they were airborne, she downed the rest of her Scotch.
'No matter how many times I go through that, I still get scared,' she confided to Quinn. 'A friend of mine was killed in an air crash.'
'That's terrible.'
'Yeah. It really shook me up. I'm a mess every time I fly.'
The attendant passed by and the woman ordered a second drink. So did Quinn.
'Are you vacationing on St. Jerome?' the woman asked.
The question reminded Quinn that Laura was not with him and he lost the relaxed feeling he had been experiencing since his conversation with the woman began.
