*****153:

She hadn't played crochet in a million years, she thought and laughed as she hit the ball carefully, and then jumped and squealed in delight when it went through the little hoop. Night time lights illuminated the course. Danny swung his club in concentration and also squealed, along with the toddlers, who carried and pushed their balls around haphazardly.

She wore a bathing suit cover up, yellow and white batik, loose fitting. It had gotten appreciably warmer in the last several hours. The kids all looked adorable in their suits and shorts as well. She had the girls wispy-curly red hair tied up in bows, and they'd left themm in, for the most part, and they got looks, oh yes, they got looks from the grandma's and grandpa's on board. That's all there was on board. But they were the looks and admiration any mother loved to hear about her little ones, nothing, nothing at all to do with celebrity. If the crew knew who she was...

But no, they probably didn't. Even if they ran the card.... Her insides bubbled with mirth as she recalled finally studying the front of her card. Lynn Maverick. They'd given her a card in the name of Lynn Maverick. When had she applied for this? And no one asked to see ID when they took her card, why should they? She'd gotten on the boat fair and square, with proper passports for all of them. But if anyone was looking for her, they'd probably not think to look for Lynn Maverick. Tracy Lynn McCaffrey Maverick was her legal name right now, but her stage name was on most of her ID, Tracy McCaffrey. She couldn't be any luckier.

After the course, they went and got ice cream, and took it out on the deck, one of many decks with all kinds of attractions.... She'd really picked a good cruise line. Tomorrow they would dock at an island.... She didn't care which one, she didn't want to know. She just wanted to feel the sand beneath her feet, feel the wind in her hair.... And not think.....

*****

"Austin, Michael here. Are you in So-Cal?"

"Yeah, just landed. I'm having Lisa pick me up. What can I do for you, Michael?" his voice was charismatic, a little distracted. Understandable, he was in a public place, it was likely he was being photographed.

"When you left Tracy this morning... or was it this afternoon?"

"What about it?"

"You said you took different flights? Did you drive her to the airport? What flight did she get on, do you know?" Michael's voice wasn't easy or friendly, but blunt and significant.

"No, I don't know her plans, really. Except, that she was going to Montana."

"But you weren't?" Michael was accusing now, because he knew that they were supposed to be together. And they weren't, and Austin had not told him the whole truth.

"Originally I was, Michael, but we had a falling out, if you must know. She's not answering my calls."

"She's not answering anyone's calls, Austin, what kind of a falling out? How bad was it? A fight?" he stated impatiently.

He could hear Austin's sharp intake of breath. "I took advantage of her."

"You what?" The sudden shocked blurt was incriminating, and Austin hurried to assure this manager, father-figure.

"I kissed her... inappropriately." He confessed. To Tracy what was inappropriate was different from what others may have thought of as inappropriate. Prude would be a good description of Tracy, Michael thought. He closed his eyes and put his feet up on his desk.

Another phone light was buzzing. "Yeah?" he answered it, with Austin still stewing on the line.

"She hasn't been to the property in a month. She's not there, Jinx and Mary physically examined the tower and the runway and the old homestead place. They might cover for her, do you want me to go there?" It was Phil.

"Yeah. I have to find her." He said and clicked off.

"Austin. She's not in Montana. She's not at Rocks, ABCSC or ABCU. She's not at her condo in Huntington, and she's not with Julian, Blaze Phelps or Archer."

"Did she go to England? Her mother is on leave in England. Her dad's in Wales." He suggested helpfully, knowing he was about to be drawn in. He couldn't turn his back on this girl, not after what they'd been through, but what about his needs? Why was it always about her?

"No." Michael said. "Call me if she contacts you." He clicked off abruptly. Austin stared at the phone a second too long as Lisa walked up to him in the airport, posing, smiling; her fake paparazzi smile in place. Her hair was pulled back in a heavy brown ponytail, her skin was fresh and clear. She was a welcome sight right now.

"Hey there, big boy." She said and linked her arm with his.

He had to forget Tracy, she wasn't his problem. She didn't want him, he couldn't get involved.

*****