Death Benefits

Ray watched the man’s face.

“Ow!” Brittany wriggled from Lucy’s grip. “Stop it, sissy, you’re hurting me.”

Lucy released her, but continued to stare at the man. As Preston and Willow had done, this man squatted in front of the girls, looking them in the eyes. “Hi. I’m Larry Bager.”

The man’s eyes were dark brown, and his well-developed muscles beneath the jacket were obvious. He had a short beard that looked unshaved rather than intentionally grown.

“I’m Lucy Jameson,” the older sister told the man. “This is my sister, Brittany.”

He nodded. “I know.”

Lucy leaned closer to him and said something Ray couldn’t hear. Larry’s gaze flicked up to Ginger, then back at Lucy. “That’s right, I’m like a bodyguard.”

Lucy nodded, apparently satisfied. “Is that like a bouncer? I went to work with Mama sometimes, and she introduced me to the bouncer at the bar where she worked.”

Again, Larry nodded. “I’m the man to come to if you get scared of anything, okay?”

“Okay.”

Larry straightened and looked around. “Hey, boss,” he said to Graham, “where’re those trip escorts we’re supposed to have flying with us?”

“I just got a call from Helen Courtney,” Graham said. “She told me they had some car trouble and they’re running late, but they’ll be on the flight with us.”

Larry was close enough to Ray when he drew Graham aside that Ray could hear them. “You check ’em out? Are they legit?”

“One of my renters, Mrs. Engle, set us up with them. They’ve been on board with this plan for several weeks, coordinating our requests.”

Larry glanced in Ray’s direction and his eyes narrowed, as if some inner radar ignited his suspicion. “Can’t be too careful.”

Lucy grabbed her sister’s hand. “Brittany, you’ve got to stay with us, okay?” Lucy said. “No wandering off, and you can’t talk to strangers. I mean it.”

“Okay.” Brittany turned and smiled up at Larry Bager, even though she’d just met him. “My teacher says airplanes are as safe as riding a school bus.”

Lucy nudged Brittany. “School bus? Not even close. You aren’t with a bunch of kids on this flight. These are grown-ups, and you know what Mama always said about talking to strangers, especially grown-ups.”

Aunt Ginger gave Lucy one of her raised-eyebrow looks over her shoulder. “Stop with the fear tactics, my dear. It’ll only make things worse.” She gave a sharp nod.

Lucy knew what the nod meant. It meant: Especially after scaring Brittany to death last night.

But that hadn’t been a dream standing in the window, and Lucy knew it, no matter how much Aunt Ginger tried to convince her everything was okay.

Lucy had seen Rick Fenrow. She knew the difference between a dream and a real man. She could close her eyes and see that face. Shaggy black hair, shaggy black eyebrows that looked like caterpillars. White face.

Brittany probably didn’t even remember how scared everybody had been last night. Those kinds of things never bothered her much. Why should they? Lucy was always there to make sure nobody hurt her. Brittany didn’t know everything about Mama’s killer.

Last night, even with Blaze Farmer and Dane Gideon standing guard at opposite ends of the house until morning, Lucy hadn’t been able to sleep.

Why couldn’t Blaze come with them to Hawaii? Blaze was strong and kind, and he didn’t think he was too good to talk to little girls.

But Blaze had already agreed to take care of the farm for Graham while they were gone, so he couldn’t go with them.

Lucy kept a lookout for the man she’d seen last night. Once in the jet, settled in her seat by the window, she studied everyone who entered.

Aunt Ginger sat in the seat between Lucy and Brittany. Uncle Preston sat directly across the aisle from them, with Willow and Graham in front of him.

Once, Lucy had asked if Aunt Ginger and Uncle Preston were boyfriend and girlfriend. Aunt Ginger had laughed, saying that, biologically, she was old enough to be Uncle Preston’s mother.

Lucy didn’t know what biologically meant, but Uncle Preston had a girlfriend now. Her name was Sheila, and she was nice.

Aunt Ginger had said more than once that she wasn’t a romantic type. She said she knew better than to make that mistake again. Graham laughed at her, but she talked as if she meant it. She said, “Graham Vaughn, don’t you go trying to set me up with any of those friends of yours. I’m out of commission, and I like it that way.”

Two old people sat down next to Uncle Preston, introducing themselves as Helen and Steve Courtney, the travel coordinators and escorts. The woman immediately started talking to Brittany, who chattered away, as if they were old friends or something. The dummy! If Rick Fenrow himself ever tried to take Brittany’s hand and lead her away, she would probably go with him, chattering to him until he cut her throat.

Lucy and Larry Bager would have their hands full with Brittany.

Helen and Steve Courtney were even older than Aunt Ginger, who liked to brag that she “needed to be accorded respect because of her advanced age of fifty-three.” Lucy didn’t know what accorded meant, and she griped at Aunt Ginger for using big words without explaining them.

Helen Courtney had a camera, and she started taking pictures of everything and everybody, especially Graham and Willow, Lucy and Brittany, right there on the jet.

The Courtneys made Lucy nervous. Why did Helen Courtney have to take so many pictures?

“Honey, I’m going to be taking all the pictures you’ll ever want on this trip,” she explained, patting Willow’s hand. “I’ll even catch some shots you’ll want to erase, but not many! I know my stuff. I’m making memories for a lifetime, you know.”

Lucy studied the woman. She seemed to smile all the time. She had a lot of wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, and she wore more makeup than Aunt Ginger or Willow ever did.

“I love your hair,” Aunt Ginger told Helen. “It’s the perfect shade for you.”

Helen laughed. “Oopsie! You caught me there.” She patted her hair as if it might be out of place. “Fresh from the bottle.”

Lucy stared at the woman’s hair. Must be a big bottle. Was she bald under there?

Helen’s husband, Steve, had gray hair and lots of wrinkles around his eyes, too. He didn’t smile as much as Helen. Lucy was relieved that he didn’t look anything like the man at the window last night.

Larry Bager sat in the seat behind Helen. He didn’t say much, but he stared at every person who got on the airplane.

Brittany suddenly looked up from her unzipped backpack, eyes wide, mouth open with horror. “Oh no! Aunt Ginger, I forgot to pack Chuckles! You told me to be sure to pack him and I forgot! Did you pack him? You did, didn’t you Aunt Ginger? Huh?”

Ginger had realized last night that this wasn’t going to be an easy trip. With the lack of sleep and the fright the girls—and she and Graham—had endured, her mind hadn’t been as sharp as she’d have liked. But this? It was inexcusable.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry, but—”

“No!” Brittany wailed. “We can’t go without Chuckles! We’ve got to go back and get him, we’ve got to!”

It seemed the eye of every person in the aisles around them turned to see what Ginger was going to do about the panicky child. Some passengers were amused, some irritated.

Brittany started to cry.

Lucy tapped Ginger on the arm. “Aunt Ginger.” She held up her backpack, and slowly unzipped the largest compartment.