The Myth of Reality

Chapter Four

'Here we go round the Mulberry bush....'

"Do you mind if we pull off somewhere so that I might take a shower and get a change of clothes?"

"I’d already planned on stopping at your apartment before heading to the airport. It’s on the way."

She gave a start. "You really do know a lot about me, don’t you, Mr. Kelsey?"

"Just because I know where your apartment is?"

"No, the fact that you knew I’d want to get changed and so on."

He sent her a small smile. "I don’t smell very rosy either, doctor. Besides, nobody knows much about you," he admitted. "I got most of my information from articles, interviews... and other places."

"I thought you said it was classified how you knew so much about me."

He hesitated. "Only because I thought you were asking too many questions."

"You’re probably right. I have a tendency of doing that. Bad manners, I suppose."

"Or maybe a desire to learn?"

"Nobody knows much about me, Mr. Kelsey? It sounds as if you know more than you’re admitting to."

"Please call me Ryan. Only my employees call me ‘Mr. Kelsey’. As for knowing more than I admit..." He passed her another glance. "Why doesn’t anyone know anything about your private life? It seems the minute you leave campus, the mystery starts."

A sudden feeling of uncertainty created a lump in her throat. "Is this important for the case," she asked quietly.

"No."

"Just curious again?"

"I guess you could say that," he said after a slight hesitation. "Why? Does the question make you uncomfortable?"

"It’s just that my private life, as you call it, is just that. Private. I simply don’t talk about it with anyone. Not the press, my students, or my co-workers."

"I noticed that in one of the articles I read, I think. No. No, I think it was a live interview included in your file at the agency." He sent her a quick glance before going on. "The interview was almost over and, if I remember right, the reporter asked you what you did behind closed doors to relax."

Beth sighed and looked away. "I walked off the set, didn’t I?"

"Not right away, but yes, you did." He turned off the freeway. "I watched that interview quite a few times to try and understand what you could have been hiding."

"Only me," she told him. "I don’t believe it’s anyone’s business but my own what I do when I’m off campus, which has been very rare recently. I write books, I teach at a university, and I give seminars and lectures. That’s all anyone needs to know. Anything else is my business."

"Well you’ve succeeded where other celebrities have failed."

"Celebrity," Beth repeated in shock. "That’s a bit strong, don’t you think? I’m accomplished, in a manner of speaking, but a celebrity figure I’m not."

"You doubt your own accomplishments?"

Beth heard the tone of shock and gave him a shrug as he turned onto the street that led to her one bedroom home in the north part of Portland. She called it an apartment because it was so small, but it was actually a house owned by the university. It was a part of her yearly salary.

"Doctor--"

"Why do you insist on calling me that?" she asked him.

She supposed it didn’t mater, but she wanted to keep him from the subject of her questionable standing of importance. He turned to look at her a couple times and then, much to her surprise, he smiled. Beth changed her gaze to her hands. It was only the second or third time she’d seen a genuine smile and she was relieved at his sudden change of mood.

"Why are you changing the subject?" he asked. "I’m not asking you about your personal life."

"In a way you are," she countered. "You just don’t know enough about me to realize it."

"Okay, I’ll bite."

She looked over at him. "What?"

"You’ve got me interested, doctor. Why is any discussion about your accomplishments off-limits?"

Beth pressed her lips together and scrambled for an answer to put him off. It wasn’t so much the subject matter, but just the fact that she always felt uncomfortable talking about herself. People never understood her reasoning for doing certain things and she was fed up with having to explain it to them.

"You’re as bad as my brother," she finally shot at him.

Ryan raised an eyebrow and pulled into the driveway of her home. She slipped out of the Cherokee before he could say a word, grabbed the keys from her purse, and jogged to the front door. Once she fit her key in the lock, she made a move to open it.

"Doctor, don’t open that."

Beth turned toward him with a jerk, her hands on her hips. "Why not?"

He pulled his gun from the holster and cocked it as he gently pushed her to stand behind him. "I’d rather be safe than have you get shot."

"Oh." Beth cleared her throat. "Thank you."

He nodded and took in a slow breath as his hand went to the doorknob. "Stay here. I’ll call out if it’s clear. Do you have a watch?"

"Yes."

"If I don’t come out or call for you in the next five minutes, get in contact with the local police and tell them what happened. Be sure to use my name. Got it?" Beth mutely nodded and Ryan gave her a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry. I’ll be okay. I just like being prepared, that’s all."

He went in, gun held at the ready position. She shook her head as she turned for the Cherokee.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered.

The minutes passed like hours to Beth. Any moment she expected to hear gun shots and shouts urging her to run for safety. And each minute that passed made her pray harder that she wouldn’t be left alone. Finally, when she’d nearly given up hope of ever having another argument with him, he stepped out onto the porch and gave her the ‘all clear’. She leaped from the car and ran toward him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug before she realized what she was doing. When she pulled back, she tried to ignore the unreadable expression that darkened his eyes.

"Don’t you ever do that to me again," she pleaded. "I was about to go out of my mind waiting out here. Next time, I’m going in with you."

He cleared his throat and holstered his gun. "Out of the question--"

"It’s not open for debate, mister," she said as she passed him.

She made her way through the living room and closed the door to her bedroom after her. She grabbed her duffel bag from under her bed and started packing the essentials, then grabbed a change of clothes for herself before she stepped into the bathroom. Beth shook her head at her embarrassing behavior and turned on the water, stepping into the shower with a sigh.

Ryan stared at the bathroom door for a long moment before laying back on the bed and placing his hands behind his head. Her file hadn’t done her justice, nor had it been very insightful into the type of person she was. It had been like reading a chronology of events and nothing more. When she’d been young there’d been the occasional special interest story that had shown her as being a quiet girl who spoke succinctly and offered no embellished tales of adventure or dreams. The moment she’d entered her pre-teen years, however, interviews had consisted of an essay-like speech before she excused herself to her books and papers.

Ryan draped an arm over his eyes and absently pulled his gun from its holster. At the beginning of the day he’d thought she would be like his partner, but now he knew he was wrong. Before, he’d judged her by her appearance and her long list of accomplishments as well as her busy schedule. He’d thought she was simply a workaholic as his partner had been. Someone who buried themselves in their work because it was what they loved to do. Dr. Elyzabeth Buchanaan, he suspected, worked because that was what came easily for her. It wasn’t a passion. She understood English, Literature, and Archaeological demands and followed the most natural path.

Ryan yawned and rubbed at his eyes. Her work was an escape more than a joy, and if he hadn’t had the experience of their short road trip, he would never have suspected. The world scared her because she didn’t know how to explain how or why she did things. Something inside of Ryan stirred, but he ignored it as his years of training surrounded his softening heart. Do your job, Ryan, he reminded. Do your job.

After her shower, Beth towel dried her hair and dressed in a pair of jeans and a cotton T-shirt. She didn’t have time to do her ritual-like cleansing and she was sure that Mr. Kelsey was as eager to use the facilities. Beth grabbed the bag and opened her bathroom door, stopping after a hesitant glance at her bed. Mr. Kelsey was asleep, gun in hand, with a chair propped underneath the knob of her bedroom door.

Beth set her duffel at the foot of her bed and shook her head. She had to admit that he was a diligent and determined protector. A very handsome one, too, she admitted. I thought the private investigator was good looking on the silver screen, she told herself as she stared at his rugged features. I wouldn’t have thought I would be as lucky as that. On the other hand, how else could I possibly make a fool of myself?

Although, she hadn’t done that yet, had she?

She noticed a couple scars on his face and scowled as she sat on the foot of the bed. His job must be very demanding. I wonder why he persists? I will make it a point to ask him. However, what makes me believe he will be willing to talk? After all, I didn’t show much eagerness to talk about my work. Did I believe he wouldn’t be interested?

Beth pressed her lips together and sharply stood. Thinking about men always puts me in a foul mood, she scolded. Stop being so childish! Little by little, though, she was beginning to realize that by shutting herself away she had made her life harder. Now she was unsure and clumsy around all men because of her inability to be natural, and her determination not to cower.

She made her way to her vanity on the other side of the room and opened one of the drawers to pull out an unloaded .38. She sat, positioning herself to face the door before looking down at the well-cleaned and well-oiled .38.

She couldn’t help thinking of her dad.

Being an ex-military man had made him tough in certain ways, but in other’s he had been as gentle as a kitten. She could still remember the day she had told her parents that she wanted to attend George Fox private University instead of continuing at the local junior college. She’d only been in her early teens, but her father had still taken her aside and given her the gun, promptly teaching her how to use it. She always remembered those times with a smile. Although, at the time she’d shown reluctance in going to the target practices, it had been more fun than she’d ever had. What was more: her father had been proud of her progress.

Now she was a dead shot at 20 yards.

Beth checked the chamber then tucked some cartridges into the pockets of her jeans. She then took an extra box and stuffed it in her duffel under her socks. She shook her head. Don’t look back, Beth , she thought to herself. It hurts too much and doesn’t change a thing. She pulled the shoulder holster for the .38 out of the drawer. Strapping it on, she gave Mr. Kelsey another look, slipped the gun into the holster, put on her lightweight windbreaker to hide it, and then went over to wake him.

"Mr. Kelsey," she whispered.

"It’s Ryan," he told her as he opened his eyes and stood to his feet. He slipped his 9 mm back into the holster. "I’ll be out in five," he said as he grabbed his pack.

The bathroom door closed and a moment later the shower was running. Beth straightened the covers, made sure her alarm was off, then sat with a sigh. If Dean of Students - and self appointed father figure - George Orbach had come for lunch at that moment, she would have had a difficult time explaining a handsome man’s presence in her bathroom. Luckily, he believes I’m with my parents, she thought with a sigh.

Beth slapped a hand over her mouth. Her parents! What could they have thought when she wasn’t at the hospital? She hurried to her vanity, grabbed some stationary, and wrote them a quick note. She’d just finished slipping the letter in her pocket when Ryan stepped out of the bathroom. Beth swallowed hard and forced herself to look away from his well-built form. He was dressed in a long-sleeved denim shirt under which he wore a burgundy T-shirt tucked into his worn blue jeans. Ryan Kelsey, with his denim shirt unbuttoned to hang free and his tanned face clean-shaven, looked every bit the storybook P.I..

"Do you have everything?" he asked as he slung her duffel over his shoulder.

She nodded and stood, heading for the door as he followed her. She made a move to lift the chair from under the doorknob, but hesitated. A soft swish from behind told her that Ryan had taken the hesitation as a warning and pulled out his gun. Beth turned to face him and pointed at the door, then to her ear. He gave a curt nod and looked around the room. Beth tugged at his arm and led him to the bathroom, pointing at the window that led out into the garage. He closed the bathroom door as she opened the window, then came over and helped her out.

"Pass me the stuff," she whispered.

He handed her the duffel and his backpack, slid his gun back in place, and climbed out, closing the window behind him. "There’s no way we can make it to my car," he told her.

She pulled a tarp off an old, sky-blue 4x4 and gave him a smile. "That’s okay," she said as she tossed the stuff into the back.

Ryan looked over the car with an approving nod. "An old Toyota Land Cruiser."

Beth climbed in and waited for Ryan to fasten his seat belt before putting the key in. "You realize we won’t have much time to make our escape once I start this thing."

He pulled out his gun and sent her a smile. "Let’s go."

It started the first try and they squealed out of the garage just as the bathroom window opened. She heard a shout and hit a button on her key ring. The garage door closed and locked. Her eyes caught a movement behind her and she gunned it, making the Land Cruiser lunge forward with a high pitched whine as it tore up her front lawn and nailed her mailbox. Shots were fired and she ducked, shifting gears as Ryan fired behind them. Just a few more seconds, she prayed as a corner came up fast. Don’t blow my tires before I get around this corner. Beth jerked hard on the wheel and let out a breath of relief when they cleared it.

"We’re not out of the dark yet. How good of shape is this thing in?" Ryan asked as he kept a watchful eye behind them.

"It’s in better shape than when it was new. My dad saw to that. He always took it on his camping and hunting trips to the bush in Canada before he gave it to me a couple years ago."

"Extra fuel cans?"

"Reserve tanks, actually. Full, of course," she added before he could ask. "I checked before I left on vacation. And there’s a full-tread spare, as well as food reserves in a box fastened to the back of the seat."

"And you said I was prepared," he teased with a smile.

"Well, it was a shock to find someone as prepared as I usually am."

"Compliment?" he asked.

"Of course. Your organization skills kept me alive."

"And you’ve returned the favor just now. Thank you."

"You’re welcome-- Oh no," she said suddenly.

He clenched his jaw and nodded. "I see them."

"We can’t have them follow us to the airport."

"I know." He squeezed off a couple rounds and then sent her a look. "You’re the one familiar with the area. I’m fresh out of bright ideas."

Beth gripped the steering wheel and squealed into a narrow alley, then grit her teeth and drove across four lanes of busy traffic. That’ll keep them off our tail for a while, she thought. But she knew she didn’t want to take any chances. She turned, went down a couple streets, then turned to drive across the same four lanes again.

"Good thinking." He kept his gaze behind them. "Do you know any back streets to the airport?"

"I believe so. You should check the Thompson Guide in the glove box. I’d rather not be lost at this particular moment."

Ryan turned and pulled the thick street atlas for the Greater Portland Metropolitan Area from her glove box. "You’re doing great, doctor," he assured her as he tried to gauge their location.

"Thank you, but I’d feel better if I didn’t have to continually remind you that my name is Beth."

"I know."

And his voice was odd.

Beth sent him a sidelong glance, recognized a street that she believed would take them closer to the airport, and turned. "I appreciate the respect and whatnot that comes part and parcel with the title ‘doctor’, but--"

He caught her gaze. "I know. Just drive."

Beth gnawed her lower lip and adjusted her grip on the wheel. I’m not forty years old, she told herself. I’m just a teacher. A professor of the arts. I have a name other than ‘doctor’. That doesn’t define who I am. I’m Beth.

"At the next signal turn right."

And Beth did.

"It was my partner’s name, doctor," he said as he continued to study the map. "Beth."

Was. Beth’s eyes sent several intense scrutinies his direction as she examined his haggard profile. "Was?" she asked quietly.

"She’s dead."

Beth cringed. "I’m sorry."

"It’s not your fault. Turn left here."

Again, Beth heard the hollow tone that let her know he was both tortured and haunted by his past. "How?" She sent him a glance. His gaze hadn’t lifted from the map. "Do you mind my asking?"

"No. We were on an assignment and I’d been captured. She came in before the guy could kill me."

"You blame yourself, don’t you?" Beth heard his silence as if he’d yelled his answer. Beth gave an absent nod as she took the turn and continued to keep a watchful eye for their not-so-welcome visitors at her apartment. "I know what it feels like to lose something, Mr. Kelsey," she told him in a careful tone. "The desire to get it back is like a fire that burns. But it burns cold and doesn’t keep you warm on late nights. When you feel it overcoming everything you say and do, that’s when you create the walls. The comfortable insulation that keeps the world out, away from the wound that refuses to heal."

Her voice was gentle and quiet, ringing with concern.

"I don’t need your understanding, doctor, just your cooperation."

She adjusted her grip on the wheel and sent him another more lengthy glance. "Then I suppose you have more than you bargained for."

He said nothing, so Beth stayed silent as she began doing something she hadn’t done in years. She prayed for them both.

"Turn left here, go up two blocks, and then you should hit 122^nd. It’s a straight shot from there to the airport."

"All right."

The back streets were clear of hassles and construction and traffic, much to Beth’s surprise. It almost made her suspicious. But she sloughed it off to coincidence and then released a deep breath when they began heading in to the airport. She parked the Land Cruiser, covered it with the tarp they’d thrown into the back upon their escape, and then hurried to catch the shuttle to the airport terminal. Ryan was oddly distant, even though he sat directly beside her, his eyes ever watchful and alert. Beth continued to gnaw her lower lip until it was raw, and then she began worrying an old address label on the end of her duffel.

When they were nearly to the terminal, Ryan covered her fidgeting hand with his and gave her a reassuring smile. She tried to give him the same reassurance, but tears glimmered in her eyes and she had to quickly look away, pulling her hand from under his to clutch it in her lap. And I wanted excitement. She nearly grimaced. Why can’t I keep my wishes to myself?

Ryan helped her down from the shuttle once it pulled up outside the terminal and led her with a hand near her back to the ticket counter. He explained their situation to the clerk, discovered their tickets were already paid for and waiting for them, and then hurried Beth into the bustling terminal and toward their gate. All the while he watched the crowd for any sign of suspicious activity.

They arrived at the gate and Ryan led her to a far corner of the waiting area before moving to a flight attendant and doing his best to find out how much longer they’d have to wait. When he made his way back, he didn’t look too happy.

"What’s the matter?" she asked.

"45 minutes." He swore under his breath and adjusted his gun holster under his jacket. "I don’t like it."

"But we’re in the airport. Security—"

"I know, doctor." He looked around as he slowly sat in the seat to her right. "I know," he muttered again. Ryan glanced toward her, noticed her harried expression, and forced another reassuring smile. "It’s alright, doctor. I’m a worrier. It’s part of my nature. Here." He reached into his pack and pulled out a notebook and a pen. He handed them to her. "Why don’t you work on something. Get your mind off this. Okay?"

Beth hesitantly took the small notebook and pencil, staring down at them as she gnawed her lower lip. She could feel him still watching her. So how do I forget our lives are in danger? How do I put aside the gun fights, the car chases, and the constant feeling of doom just so that he won’t worry for me? She cleared her throat and adjusted her fingers on the pencil. Why don’t you start planning next school years curriculum? That way you won’t have to do so the month before classes begin. She gave a slight nod and pulled her mind away from the danger, submersing it into the class schedule she knew she’d have for the next school year and organizing the best way to lead the young minds to the knowledge they needed.

Ryan watched her pale face as she forcefully pulled her mind from their current problem and pushed it into doing what he’d asked. She was terrified and yet she was doing her best. Doing what he asked. Offering what help she could. He smiled slightly and reached out a hand to rest it on her shoulder as he moved his gaze around the waiting area. He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and then lowered his hand to his side. Why had he used her for bait by purposely calling her on an unsecured line? Had he really been willing to sacrifice her life to put a criminal behind bars? How did I get so heartless? He supposed it was what came from living his life the way he’d chosen to live it.

Separated from the things that made a person human.

More is due to be added here, blending in with the following scene where they're on the road traveling to their previously designated destination.

* * *

"Did you want to stop and eat?"

She shrugged and he pulled over onto a turnout for an ‘historic landmark.’ Stepping down from the Land Cruiser with a confused frown, Beth desperately tried to focus her eyes as well as her brain on the landscape around her. She didn’t like where her mind continued to stray. There were sounds of him getting foodstuffs out of the box and she could feel his green eyes boring into her back. This whole situation is so ridiculous, she murmured to herself. And yet, when she made that statement she wasn’t sure to which situation she was referring. The whole adventure with Mr. Prentiss chasing after her and the manuscript, or her confusion regarding Mr. Kelsey.

"Confusion," she mumbled. "How can there be any confusion over nothing?"

Each time he looked at her she knew that the ‘nothing’ was quickly turning into something. At least, where she was concerned. Beth glared and crossed her arms. Something from nothing? That must be the most ridiculous statement I’ve ever made, she scolded with an inward groan. She heard a step behind her and tensed.

"Ready to eat?"

She turned and made her way to the Land Cruiser, pausing only when she heard his voice behind her.

"Did you have anymore questions about anything?"

His voice was unsure, as if he wasn’t positive he wanted to ask. She sighed and turned with a shake of her head.

"Not at the moment."

He gave her another look that she couldn’t explain, and then walked up to stand beside her. It seemed as if he was going to ask another question, then he changed his mind and moved past her.

"Ryan, wait," she heard herself saying as she caught him by the arm.

He stopped and gazed down at her with troubled eyes. Beth swallowed hard, trying to ignore the hot flash that started at her fingertips and worked inward.

"Actually, I do have some curiosity questions for you." She tried to release his arm, but couldn’t get her grip to loosen. "Questions about your agency and relative topics. If you don’t mind."

He thought about it a moment or two and then hesitantly smiled. "For every question you ask me, can I ask one of you?"

She chewed her lip and was finally able to remove her hand from his arm. "Well..."

"It’s only fair," he said quietly.

"I realize this, it’s just that..."

"I understand. You don’t know if you can trust me yet." Ryan looked a little hurt as he turned to walk away. She fell into step beside him. "It’s just..." He stopped and looked down at her, causing a lump to settle in the pit of her stomach. "It’s simply that I’m not sure I know how."

She changed her gaze to the ground and continued for the 4x4. That was moronic, she told herself. I don’t know how? He’s going to believe that I’m searching for sympathy. Is that what I want? Beth pressed her lips together. Do I really care what he thinks of me? After his assignment is over, he’ll never see me again. In fact, he probably is eager to be rid of me.

Then why does he want to know about my personal life?

"If it’s any consolation, I know exactly what you mean."

Beth stopped and looked over at him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "How so?"

Ryan crossed his arms and directed his gaze to the Land Cruiser. "For that exact reason. I was always so suspicious if anyone asked about anything that I’d dodge the question or give a vague answer. That’s why I’ve never had a personal relationship. My work always came first."

That sounds surprisingly familiar, she thought as her eyes dropped to her hands. "So, when you understand how I feel regarding this, why do you insist on asking?"

Ryan was quiet a moment. "I’m interested."

She looked up in surprise, but he had turned to walk to the Land Cruiser. She followed after a brief hesitation, all the while quarreling with herself for reading more into his statement then had been there.

"It’s not much to look at, but it’s food."

Beth gave a start, then took the offered plate. "Thank you," she mumbled.

He sent her a couple of strange looks and laid a hand on her shoulder. "I didn’t mean to upset you. I was simply hoping we could get to know each other on our way to the meeting place. It’s something I should have done sooner."

Beth took in a slow breath to try and calm her heart. "You did not upset me. I simply don’t believe it’s a proper use of time."

"Not a proper—?" Ryan raised an eyebrow and then looked down at his plate as he dropped his hand from her shoulder and picked at his food. "I see what you mean. Because of our short time together. I suppose you have a point. In fact, I’ve used that one before."

Beth put her food aside and leaned against the 4x4 with a sigh. "It’s easy to use. A generic excuse, one might say."

Ryan looked concerned as he took her food away. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I’m not hungry," she mumbled.

"Or maybe you were thinking about something?"

"I’m constantly thinking," she said wryly. Beth sighed and kicked a rock at her feet to send it skittering into the dust several feet away. "I wish I’d stayed at the university," she mumbled under her breath.

Ryan sent her a look and finished his plate of food, then began cleaning up without a word. Beth walked away from the 4x4, staring off at the countryside as she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans. She pressed her lips together. Her psychology classes had never prepared her for this. What she needed was a year or two of high school life under her belt. But at the age of fifteen she’d already finished her third ‘year’ of her masters degree at the university in Philadelphia and had only been interested in earning her degree and moving on to her doctorate as fast as she could.

"Well, Elyzabeth," she murmured, "you’ve done a royal job of botching your life up, haven’t you?"

"I’m sorry. What was that?"

Beth jerked around, keeping her eyes away from his. "Nothing."

I wish I knew more about you, she wanted to tell him. Maybe then I could get you out of my mind. That was always the way it was for her. Whenever she’d been interested in someone she had simply discovered all there was about them and the feelings had disappeared. What she needed was to talk with someone who knew him. Someone who was willing to talk to her. Maybe Mr. Jefferson, she asked herself. He had seemed eager to talk before. Beth frowned slightly, remembering how Ryan had conveniently cut him off. Maybe it wasn’t such a wise idea after all. She didn’t want him to believe that she was probing for information. Their relationship was strained enough as it was.

"Are you sure you’re all right," he asked gently.

She looked over at him, her hazel eyes dark with an inner turmoil that she didn’t understand. A slight smile was all she could manage and even that was strained and plastic. "I’m just as fine as usual."

Beth turned and made her way to the 4x4, but not before she heard him whisper under his breath.

"That’s what I’m worried about."

Her breath caught in her throat and her step faltered. "I think it’s time to go," she called.

Chapter Three \\ Back ~ Next // Chapter Five
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