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Chapter Four. “Moon Island,” Cody repeated.






“Moon Island, ” Cody repeated.

The travel agent stabbed a long red nail at a dot on her map. “Gorgeous, ” she breathed. “Totally private. Just five houses on the whole place, and they’re leased out only to women.” She paused a little uncertainly then half-whispered, “An eccentricity of the owner’s, I gather. Something to do with native customs…” She trailed off, doubtless noting Cody’s eyes widen.

“Women only. Amazing.” Cody stifled a cough. The agent’s cloying perfume was giving her heartburn.

“Don’t let that put you off.” The agent did her best to look enthusiastic. “It’s the perfect place to get away from it all, kind of a retreat. Most of my clients adore it. Why, just last week a lady dropped in to tell me she found it absolutely fabulous and didn’t miss men a bit! ”

“Imagine that, ” Cody said, deadpan. “As a matter of fact it sounds ideal—just what I’m looking for.”

“You won’t regret it.” The red fingernails fluttered over a reservation slip. “Expensive, but then in this business I always say you get what you pay for. Now, how many days was that? ”

“A month, ” Cody said, producing her wallet and extracting a wad of notes. “And that’s cash.”

“Cash? ” The agent froze, slightly bemused. “Cash money? ” she squeaked as though she’d never seen the folding stuff.

Cody pushed the notes across the desk and watched her count them.

Earlier that day the bank had been pretty astounded, too.

“You want to close your account and withdraw the full balance? ” The teller had disappeared to get the floor manager, a grim-faced woman wearing a frilly shirt and a scarf covered in bank logos. She escorted Cody into a private office where she explained it would take a little time to prepare such an amount. Was Cody sure she wanted it all at once?

“I’m leaving the country, ” Cody told her.

The woman smiled glacially. “We could prepare some travelers checks for you, Ms. Stanton, ” she offered. “In a hard currency. It would be much safer.”

“Thank you, but I’d rather just have the cash.” Travelers checks were too easily traced. “If you could let me have some in US dollars that would be handy.”

The manager had eyed her with an expression close to pity. Poor creature, it said. She obviously had no idea, and traveling overseas, too, God help her. Cody was told to return in an hour when the bank would provide her with the cash in a combination-locked briefcase with an optional wrist chain. Wearing a martyred expression, the woman escorted her out.

Soon after, briefcase in hand, Cody marched into the nearest travel agency with no idea where she should go. Somewhere very private, she had told the perfumed agent, somewhere obscure, inaccessible and beautiful.

“Somewhere like New Zealand? ” the agent joked, and for a moment, Cody actually considered the possibility. She could take a ferry to the South Island and vanish into the wilds of the West Coast, hole up in some gold-mining town along with every other criminal escaping a police dragnet. She could change her name and become a guide on the whale-spotting boats in Kaikoura.

No, she decided, New Zealand was too small. Sooner or later she would phone home in a moment of weakness, or worse, bang into someone she knew and…curtains! They’d be onto her. The sooner she left, the better. And on a one-way ticket so no one would know her ultimate destination. She had already given notice at her flat. All she needed to do now was say goodbye to her mom and she could camp at Janet’s place until she left.

 

“You’re going where and you want me to do what! ” Cody’s best friend Janet stared at her as though she had taken leave of her senses.

“I’m leaving New Zealand, ” Cody said. “I’ll be staying on an island near Rarotonga. After that I’ll probably head to London and pick up a job.”

“I can’t believe you’ve let your apartment go. What if you change your mind and want to come back? ”

“You’ve got a decent sofa, ” Cody responded with a cheeky smile. She could tell Janet was concerned about her frame of mind. In a reassuring voice, she added, “Don’t worry. I’m okay. I promise I’ll call you when I can.”

Janet looked unconvinced. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Cody tried for an innocent expression, but Janet knew her too well. “Well, there is something, ” she conceded. “But I can’t talk about it right now. When I can, you’ll be the first to know. Okay? ”

“Are you seeing someone? Are you meeting her on this island or something? ”

“No! Trust me, I won’t be seeing anyone for a long time if I can help it, ” Cody said emphatically. She shoved the bank’s black briefcase across the floor. “Can you do me a favor and mind this while I’m away? And please don’t tell anyone where I’m going. No one at all. It’s important.”

Janet pushed a stray brown curl out of her eyes and examined the locked bag with a dubious expression. “Looks like Fort Knox. What’s in it? ”

“Personal stuff, ” Cody told her blandly. “Important papers, will and so on.” That at least was true, she thought with a pang of guilt. There was also eighty thousand dollars in there, but she figured what Janet didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.

Her friend squeezed her shoulders in a hug. “I know you’re upset at the moment about breaking up with Margaret and losing your job and everything. But you’re not going to do anything stupid, are you? ”

Cody leaned against her and released a deep sigh. She felt like pouring out the whole story—what had really happened with Margaret, her job, the money, her escape plan—how everything felt very scary now that she was leaving tomorrow.

Instead she said throatily, “I’m going to miss you like anything.” That was the truth. Janet was the kind of friend everyone hoped for. She was loyal, fun, and always there. Lovers could come and go, but Janet still made the best guacamole in town.

If only Cody had listened years ago when Janet voiced doubts about Margaret. Actually she’d voiced more than doubts. Janet had taken an instant dislike to Cody’s new lover and made no bones about it. Cody had gotten defensive and stormed off in a huff. For a year or so a rift remained between them, until one day Margaret let slip a negative comment about Janet that got Cody thinking. She became aware all of a sudden that in a myriad of ways, Margaret had subtly manipulated the situation to ensure Cody and Janet would not patch things up. Even now she could not put her finger on exactly how her ex had done it, but that was Margaret’s stock in trade. The people she screwed over were always convinced she meant well.

“I’ll miss you too, ” Janet said. “You are coming back though, aren’t you? ” Her puppy-sad brown eyes combed Cody’s face, searching for more than she could reveal right now.

“Of course I’m coming back, ” Cody promised, and hoped it was true.

 

“You’re doing what! ” Nathaniel Kleist glowered at the tall blonde woman sitting opposite him.

“It’s all there in writing, Nat.” Annabel referred him to the single typed sheet on his blotter.

“I can read, ” he grunted, brushing the letter aside like a dead bug. “But I’m asking you what you’re really doing? I mean, for God’s sake, Annabel, you’re my best trader. If it’s more money you’re after, in Jesus’s sweet name ask! If you don’t like your new secretary just say so and I’ll buy you another one.”

He was on his feet, pacing the huge art-filled office like a caged bear. Drama queen—they’d invented the term for Nat.

“Nat, ” Annabel said with an air of finality. “My contract’s up and I’m not coming back. For personal reasons. That’s it. End of story.”

“Personal reasons.” He clutched his forehead and leaned heavily against his hand-painted Italian blinds. Fixing Annabel with an accusing look, he said, “It’s New York, isn’t it? What are they offering? ”

Annabel got to her feet. “Enough! ” She started toward the door.

“I’ll better it.” He rushed after her. “I’ll double it…Annabel don’t do this to me.”

“For chrissakes Nat! ” Annabel raised her voice. “I’m leaving. I’m giving up trading. There’s no New York, no headhunters. I’ve resigned. Period.”

“It’s a man.” He leaned against the door to prevent her opening it and grinned at her indulgently. “Why didn’t you say so? You wanna stay home and keep his slippers warm. Hey, not a problem… we can hook you up, screen in the bedroom if you like… you name it, sweetheart. Work from home.”

Annabel sighed. “That’s very generous. But it’s not a man. It’s something far more interesting.”

“It is? ” Nat frowned, clearly puzzled at the idea.

“If you must know, I’ve inherited a Pacific island, ” she enlightened him reluctantly. “And I’ve decided to go live there for a while.”

“An island. As in Robinson Crusoe? ” Nat pulled the door open, his face a study in wan disbelief.

“There are amenities, ” Annabel said dryly.

He shook his head in bewilderment. As Annabel stepped past him, she heard him mutter, “Cracked. Burnt out, poor kid.”

 






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