An Offer You Can Refuse
Juice boxes and Fruit Roll-Ups have been dispensed, and Four and Neve are curled together like little shrimp on a couch, under Eden’s jacket. She must have kids of her own; she seems very intuitive with them. She sees me at the window and gets to her feet with a smile.
“Any news?” she asks quietly, so as not to disturb the kids.
“No. Nothing. My sister is booking me a hotel. I’ll take them off your hands now. Thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.”
“It’s not a problem. And honestly, there’s no reason to get a hotel. Why don’t you stay with me overnight?”
“I couldn’t possibly impose like that. Really. We’ll be fine.”
The woman smiles. “Yeah, I understand. I’m practically a stranger. We haven’t even been properly introduced. Eden Barrow. Obviously, I work for the airline. And I did go to high school with your husband, even though he didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Brooklyn Locke. Brook. Nice to meet you. And he wasn’t feeling well, so I’m sorry if he seemed rude. He’s not a great flier.”
Eden tilts her head, looking confused. “That’s odd.”
“It is?”
She waits a beat. “He’s never mentioned Chloe to you, has he?”
“I’ve never heard her name, no. Why? Were they serious?”
Eden nods. “You could say that.” She looks like a curious bird, watching me.
Something about it feels . . . wrong. Trey’s reaction to Eden comes back to me.
She freaked him out, and I’m starting to understand why.
She’s very intense. I want to pump her for information, but I also want to get far, far away from her.
Like, right now. I take a step backward, and she steps forward, filling the gap.
“You really don’t know, do you?”
“Why he left? I don’t.”
“I think it was my fault. Or, really, his. A guilty conscience.”
“What are you implying?”
“Brooklyn—” She cuts herself off with a shake of her head. “You know, I have a few contacts with the local police. I could make some calls and see if they could help. Matheson’s solid, but they have bigger fish to fry.”
I tense, and she puts a hand on my shoulder. The physical intrusion is too much. I jerk away.
She smiles sadly, assuming it’s her words that upset me. “I’m sorry, that was callous. I know this is a personal earthquake for you, but their job is looking for terrorists. They just need to keep people safe. It’s what we do. Keep everyone safe.”
I do not feel safe right now. I feel eyes on me. We’re being watched. I don’t know why, but I know to trust my gut. It’s time to leave.
“You’ve gone above and beyond. I appreciate it. But I need to figure this out, and I don’t want to upset the kids more.”
“Here, give me your phone.” Eden grabs my hand and smashes our phones together, and before I can yank it back, the edges glow as the contact information is shared. “There. Now you can get in touch if you change your mind.”
I bite back a curse. There’s no getting away from her now; she has my information. Still, I put on a happy face.
“I appreciate it. Really. Come on, kids. We have an adventure ahead.”
Four leaps to his feet. “We’re going to Miss Eden’s house for dinner, Mom!”
“Oh, Four, baby, we’re going to the hotel right here near the airport. You’ll be able to see the planes taking off all night.”
My son’s lip wobbles. Neve watches expectantly. If he starts crying, she will, too, and everything will fall apart, because I am not equipped to deal right now. Keep it normal, keep it cool.
“Baby, Mommy needs to do some research and make a bunch of calls. We’ve taken up enough of Miss Eden’s time.”
“She has pizza, Mom. And ice cream.” He gives me that pleading puppy dog look that his father passed on in his cursed genes, and that sets me off.
“Both things you don’t need right now. Come on. Up you go.” I hoist Neve into my arms, and she snuggles into my shoulder. Four plants himself, but all I have to do is raise a brow. His face falls. He knows better than to argue with me in public.
“Sorry about that,” Eden says. “I told them I was going to suggest you come for dinner, considering all you’ve been through today.”
“Again, much appreciated.”
“I’ll walk you out.” Eden takes Trey’s bag and holds the door for us. I want to scream “No,” but I don’t want to cause a scene, either. And I don’t want to freak out the kids. I move my feet.
The halls are still packed with people, and a few glance askance at us as we emerge from the secure area with an airline employee carrying my bag.
“So you’re from Connecticut, too?”
She gives me another one of her strange looks, like I’m speaking a foreign language that it’s taking her a few moments to translate mentally. “No. Malogen, Georgia.”
A little knot inside me loosens. “Ah. See, Trey told me he didn’t recognize you, and now it makes more sense. He’s from Hartford. Which means he must have a doppelg?nger. With the same name, too—how weird is that?”
Eden is staring at me, brows furrowed. “That’s . . . not right.”
“It must be. I mean, no one calls him Andrew. He’s always been called Trey. As far as I know, he’s never even been to Georgia.” Of course, he wigged out when we were diverted to Atlanta. Don’t forget that.
“Then the resemblance is uncanny,” Eden says, and I can tell she is not at all convinced.
There is more she wants to say; I can feel it.
She is biting her tongue. The kids, maybe, unnerving her like she’s unnerving me?
“Maybe he has an identical twin, and they were separated at birth. Because believe me, the man you’re married to is beyond a dead ringer for the Andrew Locke I went to school with. I’m certain it’s him.”
My phone twitches, and my heart leaps. But it’s just Margot. “Speaking of identical twins, there’s my sister. Excuse me.” I look at the screen.
I found a hotel, but it’s about a thirty-minute cab ride. All the ones at the airport were full. Is that okay?
“Ugh.” I heave out a breath.
“Everything okay?” Eden asks.
“Yeah, the hotel my sister found is downtown. Nothing near the airport was available.”
“It’s a sign,” she says, a huge smile crossing her face. “My place is ten minutes away. Please, let me help. I know you must be completely rocked. I can call my detective friend. And there really is pizza in the freezer.”
The kids start crowing delightedly at this, and I can’t take it anymore. I tell her the God-to-honest truth. “I appreciate all of this, really, but I need some time alone to process what’s happened. You understand.”
A beat. Eden searches my face and nods. “Oh, I do. Completely. I have some processing to do myself.” She holds up a hand, and a cab rolls forward to our position at the curb.
“Good luck, Brook. I hope it all works out. Stay in touch, would you? If he comes back? Not that it’s my business, really, but I guess I’m worried for you all. ”
“That’s really kind of you, Eden. Me too. Thank you for your help. Come on, babies. Let’s go.”