Weekend Warriors (Sisterhood #1)(22)
“I will drive with you, Kathryn. We can get to know one another. Perhaps I can learn not to be afraid of your dog. Will you have me as your navigator?”
“No!” The single word shot out of Kathryn’s mouth so fast her tongue felt like it had been scorched. “Wait! I didn’t mean no you can’t go with me. What I meant was…Alan always said he was my navigator. That means you can’t be my navigator. You can be…you can be…”
“…your lookout?” Yoko said.
“Yeah. Yeah, lookout is good. No offense, Yoko.”
“None taken, Kathryn. I understand. It is possible we might become friends.”
Anything is possible, Kathryn thought. “I suppose.” Yoko smiled warmly.
“We need to make reservations if Kathryn’s standin is to go on vacation. It’s still Isabelle, isn’t it?”
Myra looked at Isabelle, who nodded. “Isabelle can make the reservations and work with Alexis on her disguise. I see a possible problem.”
Nikki stopped writing long enough to look up and say, “What do you see?”
“Kathryn’s truck. Earlier we said when the men try to figure out what happened to them, they would start looking at possibilities and eventually Kathryn’s name will come up. If her truck isn’t here, and she makes a delivery to San Francisco, that puts her and her truck in California. Even though she is making a legitimate delivery and picking up a legitimate delivery on the way back, it’s still going to be a problem.”
Julia jumped in. “Unless, after the delivery of the…ah toilet seats, she offhandedly tells the people at the delivery site that she’s taking two weeks off and going to a resort for a few weeks. Isabelle will make her reservation from San Francisco so she has a ticket to prove that she, a.k.a. Kathryn, did indeed leave there, registered at a resort and then flew back to San Francisco and from there back to here under her own name.”
“You need to tell us, Kathryn, how you’re going to get fuel on your way to Lone Pine or whatever destination you choose. If you stop along the way, someone is going to remember a woman truck driver. This is all based on the men honing in on you, Kathryn. It may never happen. But, if it does, we need to protect you,” Nikki said.
Kathryn looked up at the platform where Charles was standing next to the computer bank. He nodded. “I think I can make arrangements for fuel along the way.” He scribbled something on the pad he was holding in his hands.
“Any other questions or details you think we need to discuss?” Nikki asked, looking around the table.
Myra stood up. “I’m going to make us some lunch. Kathryn, you might want to take your dog for a walk. Nikki will assign each of you to a computer where you will order whatever you need shipped to this box number in Washington, D.C. Overnight everything. We have a special Visa for things like this. She’ll give you the number. Charles will work on getting the motorcycles. He’ll arrange for you to pick them up in San Francisco for your trip north. Talk among yourselves, make it as easy as possible. Pay attention to all the little details people tend to ignore. The little details that can trip you up. I’ll come for you when lunch is ready.”
In the foyer, Myra looked up at the chandelier. “Ah, the power is on again. Light always makes things so much better, don’t you think, dear?”
Kathryn held the door open for the dog. He bounded outside. “I don’t know. Myra. It seems I’ve lived in darkness for so long I can’t tell the difference anymore. I don’t know what to do. I’m lost. It was like Alan was an extension of myself. I took care of him for so long I don’t know what to do with myself. When he was lying there in that…that box…I got so angry. I screamed and yelled at him for leaving me. He didn’t give a good rat’s ass about me. He was so ready to die it was pathetic.
“You know what else, Myra. There was only one other person at Alan’s funeral beside myself. A trucker who just happened to be in the area. I wanted to kick him out of the funeral home but I didn’t. The damn funeral director kept coming into the room that was bare of flowers because I didn’t even have enough money left to buy a bunch of daisies to put on his casket. I have to deliver those toilet seats and I have to bring back a load of lettuce or I won’t be able to pay for his funeral. I had to charge his funeral. Alan must be spinning in his grave. That damn undertaker wanted me to cremate him, said it was cheaper. I couldn’t do that because I need to have him in a place where I can…I can go. I didn’t want him blowing away in the wind. What does that make me, Myra?”
“A grieving widow who loved her husband. I paid for your husband’s funeral, Kathryn. You can pay me back someday or not pay me back. It really doesn’t matter. I’m so sorry for your loss because I know exactly how you feel. When my daughter died, I wanted to die with her. It wasn’t until Nikki and I saw Marie Lewellen shoot the man on the courthouse steps that I came to life. That’s what I should have done but I was so grief-stricken, all I could do was think about my own misery. She had the guts to shoot and kill the man who took her child’s life. I can’t wait till my case comes up,” Myra said vehemently.
“I’ll personally kill the son of a bitch for you, Myra. No parent should have to bury a child. I do thank you for paying for Alan’s funeral. I didn’t know you had done that. I swear, I’ll pay you back.” She opened the door for Murphy.