The Pregnancy Promise. Barbara McMahon

wave action of the sea mesmerized. The cool breeze chilled her cheeks. Tucked inside the warm quilt, getting up would mean being enveloped in the cold until she went inside. Maybe she’d just stay huddled in the quilt forever.

      The phone went quiet. No one knew where she was. She’d phoned in to the office after she’d left the doctor’s office and just told her assistant she’d be out for a couple of days. Not stopping to check in with any of her family or friends, she’d driven straight to the beach. Sooner or later she’d have to call someone or they’d all worry. But not yet.

      The phone rang again. For a moment Lianne thought it sounded angry. She smiled for the first time since seeing the doctor yesterday. Phone ring tones didn’t sound angry. They just played whatever ring tone was set. Sighing, she rose and went inside. Her cramps were manageable, but she hunched over slightly. It would be Traynor Elliott—she could tell by the intense vibes winging their way over the airways. Her boss didn’t do things by half measures. If he decided he needed to speak to her, she’d better answer or who knew what he’d do next.

      She grabbed the phone and flipped it open. “Yes?” The door hadn’t latched behind her and the wind whipped it wide-open, slamming it against the wall. Lianne winced as the cold air whirled around the kitchen.

      “Where the hell are you and why isn’t the Schribner folder where I think it ought to be?” Tray growled.

      “I’m taking a couple of days off and the folder is with Jenny, ask her,” she replied almost in the same snarl as she slammed the door shut. She was not in the mood to placate her boss. She had her own problem at the moment. “And when I take time off from work, I’m not supposed to be working. You have a building full of employees, get one of them to find your blasted folder.”

      The silence on the other end lasted only a second. Then the silky tones of one trying to sooth a fractious child came over the line. “Are you sick? It’s not like you to miss work at all, much less without any warning.”

      She took a deep breath. Her private life was just that. She wasn’t best friends with her boss though they had worked together for years. The longer she worked there, the more she and Tray meshed. He’d bounce ideas off her. She’d bring up situations that were beyond her for his input. For a moment she wished she could confide in him. He was good at problem solving. But close as they were at work, they’d kept their personal lives private.

      “I’ll be back in a couple of days. You can manage until then.” Lianne disconnected and then turned off the phone. She’d have to call her sister soon. Once she came to terms with things, she’d want Annalise’s wise counsel. But in the meantime, she wanted to hole up and not talk to anyone—especially her sister. Not that she was envious of her twin precisely. Okay, maybe she was just a little.

      Annalise and Dominic had married five years ago. They lived in a lovely apartment near Dupont Circle in the District. Both successful in their respective professions, they traveled often, frequently to exotic locations. Sometimes trips were connected with Dominic’s work as a troubleshooter for a computer company. Other times just for fun.

      The only person Annalise loved more than her twin was her husband. And once in a while Lianne almost wished he’d not come along. Almost, but not really. Her sister was blissfully happy in her marriage and that was what Lianne envied.

      If Lianne had married five years ago, she’d have had children by now. Sometimes she wondered why Annalise didn’t. The answer to the question—they weren’t ready—seemed vague. But she’d never pushed for more. Everyone had their own timing. The next oldest in a large family, Lianne had always planned on having a large family of her own. She loved holidays and birthdays with her family. The closeness, the love, the feeling there was always someone there for her. She had deliberately sought to build a successful career before settling down to marriage and a family. Now it looked as if time had run out.

      She dropped the quilt across one of the wooden chairs that surrounded the large plank kitchen table. Time to fix something to eat. If she had more energy, she’d go out to one of the local restaurants where the crab cakes were melt-in-your-mouth good. Or try one of the fish grills that dotted the town of Baden Harbor. But not tonight. She’d just heat up some soup and make toast. She wasn’t hungry, but practical enough to know she needed to eat.

      Things would look better in the morning, as her grandmother always said.

      Lianne didn’t know how, but she hoped so.

      Traynor Elliott carefully replaced the phone, stunned at the reaction of his normally cool-headed senior analyst. Lianne had worked for him for the last five years. He’d only seen her angry enough to yell twice. What set this episode off? He thought back over the last couple of days. He had not been more difficult to work with than normal. So that wasn’t it.

      In fact, if asked, he’d have said they had a great relationship. She stood up to him when she thought he was wrong. Something other employees could learn. She voiced her feelings about projects, sometimes pinpointing exactly what was missing. And he relied on her more than any of the other analysts to give him sound advice.

      He rose and went down the hall and peered into her office. Tidy as always. She was neat beyond normal, he often thought; while his own desk was piled high with folders and printouts and reports. Lianne loved order, spreadsheets and tons of data to analyze. He counted on her to have the information he wanted when he wanted it. He was used to Lianne being there whenever he needed her. This wasn’t like her at all. Now he’d have to find Jenny and see if she could locate the file. And maybe give him some information on what was up with Lianne.

      The younger woman was diligently typing a report from one of the field agents. She looked up when Tray stopped at her desk and almost grimaced before giving him an artificial smile.

      “What can I do for you?” she asked.

      “I’m looking for the Schribner folder,” he said.

      “Oh, dear. I remember seeing that. Just hold on a sec and let me remember where.” Jenny jumped up and began to rummage through the stacks of folders on her desk. It resembled his, but there the similarity ended. Traynor knew exactly where every piece of paper was on his. Jenny was still rummaging through piles.

      “Lianne was working on it, making sure everything was up today because you’re meeting with them soon and she wanted you to have every iota of intel at your fingertips,” Jenny mumbled as she rifled through yet another stack of folders. “She called in yesterday and had me get it from her office. It’s here. Wait a sec.”

      Tray took a breath, trying not to let his frustration spill over. His first tendency was to snap and then make amends, but he wouldn’t do that today. He had more control over his behavior. But he didn’t have much patience in the best of times and this was not the best of times. Dammit, why had Lianne taken off at this juncture? He needed her.

      “Here it is!” Jenny beamed with success and handed him the thick folder.

      He took it and walked away. At least one thing had gone right today. Where the hell was Lianne? She had not previously requested vacation time. She wasn’t claiming sick leave. Was something wrong with someone in her family? He didn’t know much about her personal life, just that her family came from Maryland and she had more brothers and sisters than anyone else he knew. Most of whom also worked in the District of Columbia.

      He returned to his desk and opened the folder. His curiosity over Lianne and her odd behavior wouldn’t let him focus on the material therein. If she were sick, wouldn’t she have said something? Normally he knew her schedule as well as he knew his own—and vice versa.

      Tray tried her phone again. The not-in-service message came on. He uttered a brief expletive and hung up.

      Ten minutes later Tray closed the Schribner folder and rose. His security firm specialized in keeping people safe, especially when traveling to dangerous locales. The agents assigned the Schribner account could handle things. Tray’d check on Lianne one more time and then call it a day. Maybe put in some time at the gym. The exercise tired him out enough to sleep at night. Though the nightmares