Unfinished Symphony (Logan 3)

"Of course, dear. Spike?"

He turned as we reached the long corridor.

"The gentleman she's looking for must be down at the baggage carousel, don't you think?" Dorothy said.

He paused, looked past us, and then started to open the briefcase, but it was locked.

"I don't think you should do that," I protested.

"I'll be right back," he told Dorothy as he headed into the men's room.

"Why doesn't he let me take care of the briefcase?" I asked.

"I swear, I have no idea," she said. "He's an actor, of course, and like all of them, he's moody and unpredictable. Everyone in L.A. these days is either trying to get into the entertainment industry or selling real estate. Enough about Spike. Please tell me about you. Where did you meet my sister?"

I told her about Provincetown and Kenneth, Holly's arrival at the beach and how we became friends.

"She still drives that ridiculous circus car?"

"Yes," I said, laughing and thinking about the bright psychedelic colors.

"She had her ears pierced when she was only eight, you know. She had a friend do it and she had to be taken to the doctor before infection set in. My father was furious."

Before Dorothy could continue, Spike reappeared, but without the briefcase.

"Where's Mr. Fonsworth's briefcase?" I demanded instantly.

"In the garbage bin. Let's get moving," he said to Dorothy.

"What? Why did he do that?" I cried.

"Quiet," he said gruffly.

"Now just a minute," I began, determined to make him explain. He surprised me by seizing my arm at the elbow and pulling me forward. Before I could protest, he turned to Dorothy.

"Drugs," he said.

"Oh dear."

"What?"

"That briefcase was lined with something called cocaine. Ever hear of it?" he said sarcastically. "That's probably why the police were waiting at the gate. They got a tipoff; he found out and planted the case with her," he told Dorothy and then looked at me. "If they would have stopped you, you would have been in great trouble. Maybe we all would have," he added.

"But . . ." I looked at Dorothy, whose eyes were almost as wide as mine. "He was a nice young man, a banker. Surely, this is a mistake," I cried.

Spike shook his head.

"He must have spotted her a mile away," he told Dorothy.

I pulled my arm out of his grip and swallowed over the huge, aching lump in my throat.

"That's not true. He had an emergency, and how would he know I would do such a thing anyway?" I asked.

"If you refused, he would have looked for someone else or given up for today. You just transported a lot of cocaine across the country and you might even have brought it to Mrs. Livingston's home," he added firmly.

I felt myself wilt, the tears burning as I looked at Dorothy. She wagged her head at Spike, flashing him a cool, chastising look.

"Oh don't be so harsh on her, Spike. She didn't know." She patted me on the shoulder. "It's nothing, dear. These things happen in today's mad world, but we won't worry about it now. Let's just get her luggage and go, Spike. I'm absolutely famished. We'll go directly to The Vine on Beverly Drive. Wait until you taste their baked goat cheese salad, Melody, and their grilled eggplant sandwich."