Chapter 2
Cass punched the number on the keypad, tucking the handset under his chin to hold the receiver in place next to his ear, as he buttoned his cuffs. From the other end came the cherry greeting.
“Good morning. Edwards and Winthrop. How may I direct your call?”
“Amy,” Cass replied, “It’s Cass.”
“Oh, hi Cass. How are you this morning?”
“I’m fine Amy. You?”
“Just great.”
“Glad to hear it. Listen, is Zach in by any chance?”
“Not yet. He left a message saying he had to make a quick stop at the courthouse on the way in but he should be here any minute now. Something I can help with?”
“Yeah, actually there is. I’m going to be working from home today so I need you to reschedule my appointment with Roger Haskell.”
“Reschedule Roger Haskell?” Amy said in mock surprise and then Cass could hear the grin in her voice, “It’d be a pleasure.”
Cass had been looking forward to his meeting with the elusive president and CEO of Haskell Industries, curious to discover for himself whether all that he had heard about Haskell was true.
Since he and Charlie had arrived in Evermore, Colorado lured to the small mountain town six months previously by his old and now current law partner Zack Edwards, Cass had been hearing all kinds of stories ranging from “Haskell saved this town” to “the man is a criminal who should have been locked up years ago.”
“Amy,” he cautioned.
“I’m not saying anything,” she said innocently, “but consider it done.”
“And have Zach give me a call at some point later this morning.”
“Will do. Uh, Cass? Is everything all right? You sound awfully tired.”
“I’m fine, Amy. Really,” he said just as the front doorbell rang. “I’ve gotta run. I’ll talk to you later.” Hanging up the phone, he crossed the living room and entered the foyer. Opening the door, he revealed the smiling faces of Chief Ben Carson and his wife, Nancy.
“Morning Councilor,” Ben greeted.
“Hey Ben. Nancy, it’s good to see you too. Please. Come in.” He stood aside to let them pass then closed the door behind them. “Thanks for coming over.”
“We live three doors down,” Nancy chided good naturedly, “It’s not a problem. Besides we were both on our way downtown anyway.”
“Yeah,” Ben concurred, “and it sounded like you had a lot on your mind when you called. What’s up buddy?”
Cass cast a quick glance upward to the second floor of the old house in the general direction of Charlie’s room. “Uh, would you mind if we talked in the kitchen. Charlie is still sleeping and I don’t want our conversation to disturb her.”
“Charlie’s here?” Nancy queried as Cass led the way into the warm confines of the country kitchen. “Is she not feeling well?”
“She had sort of a bad night, so I thought I’d keep her home from school and get some rest.”
“Ben Junior’s going to be frantic.” Ben grinned as he passed through the swinging door leading to the kitchen, behind his wife and new friend.
Cass gave a puzzled frown as he moved to reach into the cabinet and retrieve a couple of coffee mugs. “Frantic?”
Ben chuckled as he took a seat at the table. “In case you haven’t noticed, Councilor, my son is totally gone on your little girl.”
Cass grinned. “You’re kidding?”
Already seated Nancy laughed lightly, “Cass, since you and Charlie moved into town, BJ has developed a sudden fascination with school. That kid practically bolts out the door every morning.”
Cass put the mugs down on the table, shaking his head. “Now, how did I miss that?”
“Well, he’s playing it real sly,” Nancy chuckled as she poured coffee from the carafe. “You certainly don’t expect a 16-year-old to be that obvious do you?”
“These days, who knows,” Cass grimaced. “Things have changed a bit since I was 16.”
“Yeah, we got cars and ‘lectricity now,” Ben mocked lightly. “So, what’s goin’ on Cass?”
Cass took his seat and paused a moment. Though he had known them only a relatively short time, Ben and Nancy Bartlett had become solid friends and trusted neighbours. As Chief of the Evermore Police Department, Cass had already established a strong working relationship with Ben while Nancy had been a godsend, watching over Charlie whenever Cass needed to work late or when business called him out of town.
As they waited expectantly for his reply, Cass knew that as complicated and confusing as the situation might be, if anyone could help him right now, it was Ben and Nancy.
“I’m wondering if I could ask a favor…well, two favors actually.”
“No problem,” Ben agreed immediately. “What do you need?”
“Well, look, hold on,” Cass said bringing his hand up as if to slow his friend down. “Wait until you hear what I’m going to ask first. You might not be so quick to agree.”
Ben nodded indulgently, “Okay. Okay. Go ahead.”
“Well, first of all. I need to go back to Bay City for a couple of days and I was wondering if you could keep an eye on Charlie for me.”
Nancy spoke up. “Of course Cass.”
“Well now, considering what you’ve told me about BJ, you sure that won’t be a problem for you guys?”
“Cass,” Nancy scolded with a grin, “We do have two kids you know and while BJ will no doubt be falling all over himself trying to impress Charlie, you know that Elizabeth will be monopolizing all of her time.”
Ben gave a harrumph, as he held the coffee mug to his lips. “Charlie might just as well move in. Beth already has most of your kid’s wardrobe in her closet.”
“Well, I just don’t want to put you guys in a difficult position.”
Nancy laughed, “Welcome to teenage parenting Cass. Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.”
“Thanks Nancy.” Again, Cass paused taking a deep breath before turning his attention to Ben. “Now, my second request. Ben, I may need your help in accessing some information.”
Ben put his mug on the table and leaned forward. “What kind of information?”
“I need to get my hands on a specific homicide investigation report.”
“A homicide?” Ben was surprised. “Cass, our department hasn’t work on any homicide investigations for at least two years.”
“The investigation didn’t take place in Evermore. It was in Bay City.”
“Oh,” Ben nodded slowly, “I see. Well, you shouldn’t have any problem getting that stuff. I mean, you’d get all that through disclosure to prepare a case for your client.”
“It’s not related to any case I’m working on. I guess you could say, I’m the client.”
Ben was confused. “You’re the client? Cass, what are we talking about here? Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“No, well, sort of…look it’s not what you’re thinking.” Cass sighed. “I’m not handling this well. I’m sorry.”
Across the table, Nancy looked on and when she spoke, her voice was soft. “The homicide that you’re talking about…it’s not a recent case is it?”
Cass looked at her almost gratefully, “No, it’s not.”
“Frankie?”
Cass swallowed. “Yeah.”
For a moment, there was silence. Then Ben spoke. “Cass, why would you want to rehash all of that again? The case was closed. There’s nothing in those records that you don’t already know.”
“I know Ben. I know. It’s…” he paused. “It’s Charlie.”
“What?” Nancy couldn’t hide the shock in her voice. “Cass, you couldn’t possibly want Charlie to see something like that. My God, she’s just a child.”
“No, of course not,” Cass said insistently. “I would never…God…I would never allow her to see…” He stopped, his chin falling to rest on his chest with a heavy sigh as he fell silent.
Ben’s naturally gruff voice grew suddenly gentle. “Why don’t you start from the beginning and tell us what this is all about.”
Cass raised his head but his gaze was directed at his coffee mug. “Charlie believes that somehow, Frankie is still alive.”
Ben and Nancy spoke in unison, “What?”
“Cass, how…?” Nancy continued, “I mean…why? Now? It’s been so long.”
Cass understood her confusion. He just hoped he could find the words to explain something he couldn’t understand himself.
“Nancy…Ben…there’s something that I need to explain to you and it may be really hard for you to understand, but it’s real and it’s true.” Cass stood and walked over to look out the window, his gaze resting on the expanse of the Rockies that sheltered Evermore. His voice was calm and steady as he began.
“Mary Frances, Frankie, was an intensely spiritual woman. She believed that in some way, all living things were connected. The strength of that connection depended upon the strength of the relationship. And if you loved someone…truly loved someone…that connection was a bond that could never be broken.”
He smiled ever so slightly. “I remember when we first met…I used to give her such a hard time. All those crystals…her absolute conviction that our lives were guided; were predetermined by forces over which we had no control. I just couldn’t believe that, well, that she could believe in such things. But she did. With all her heart.”
While his smile faded the peace he felt as he recalled the early days of their love remained. “But the closer we got, the more deeply I fell in love with Frankie, the more real…the more true…all those things became. Frankie and I share this bond that I may never understand, but that I know will never be broken.”
He turned to face his guests who looked on with kindness and compassion in their eyes. They didn’t speak, but waited for him to continue. He smiled.
“Frankie always knew exactly what I was feeling. There were times I’d be at the office, frustrated over a case I was working on and, out of the blue she would call. Just to offer some encouragement or try to get my head in the right place so I’d be able to deal with whatever it was that was bothering me. I knew there was no way I could ever hide anything from her, so, I just didn’t bother trying.
“And it wasn’t one-sided. I may not have known what the specifics were…” he paused to look at them pointedly, “…I mean, neither of us could read the others thoughts…but I knew when she was happy…” his look suddenly grew somber, “…when she was hurting.”
After a moment, he turned again to the window.
“That night, I knew she was in trouble. I felt it. Her fear. That god-awful fear. And I felt her rage. The disgust she had for this man standing over her who had such little regard for life. To Frankie, life was precious and she would have given over her own in a heartbeat for Charlie’s…or for mine…or anyone else for that matter. But to have it taken by someone like this…”
Cass lowered his head, his voice scarcely above a whisper. “She knew wasn’t going to get out there. Oh, I know she fought back. Frankie would never just resign herself to that kind of…of evil. But she knew.
“I knew she was afraid, but never for herself. She was afraid for Charlie and for me; how we would manage without her there to take care of us. In that moment, I could hear it; her very soul speaking to mine. In the midst of it all, she was just so sorry that she was leaving us behind.”
Ben and Nancy sat rapt before him. Nancy’s hand came up to her lips as if to stifle the emotions his words churned up inside. Cass never noticed, lost in the memory and the pain.
“And then, I couldn’t hear her anymore. I couldn’t feel her anymore. I searched and searched…right down to the deepest part of me. But she was gone. I knew. Nobody had to tell me. I knew.”
The mournful quiet hung over the room like a veil. No words of condolence or comfort were uttered by either of the two – both knew none would suffice. They watched as Cass lifted his head, following the path his eyes traveled to the peak of a distant mountain.
“Frankie would love it here,” he mused. “She loved the mountains. The peace…the serenity…the strength. That’s why I brought Charlie here.” He turned back to the table and they could see that he had returned from his journey into the past, the smile on his face a relief to them both. “She’s so much like her Mom.”
“Charlie is a wonderful, beautiful girl, Cass,” Nancy said. “I really wish I had known Frankie.”
Ben gave a curt nod of his head, “You’ve been a very lucky man Cass. Charlie said that you and Frankie made one heck of a team.”
Cass smiled at a memory. “Best team in the league.”
“And you’ve done right by Charlie too. I’ve a feeling Frankie would be real proud and pleased at how you’ve raised her. And if, like you say, she’s like her Mom, I’m sure that whatever she’s going through right now, well, it’ll work itself out again.”
Taking his seat Cass gave a worried frown and a quick shake of his head. “I don’t think so Ben. Charlie is like her Mom. Has all of Frankie’s qualities. And what she is ‘going through’ right now is more than just some sort of adolescent phase…more than just old memories coming back.”
Nancy leaned forward earnestly, “But Cass, Charlie doesn’t really believe that Frankie…I mean…that she could actually be alive. How could she? I mean, why?”
“Nancy, the bond that Frankie and I shared was real. She shared that same bond with Charlie. For the past few years my daughter and I have lived with the knowledge that what we once had is gone. What we felt inside, was evidence of that. But now Charlie is feeling the same sort of things that I felt when Frankie was alive. What I’m talking about, this connection, it’s not something vague or fleeting. It’s a part of you – as much a part of you as your heart beat or breathing in and out.
“The night that Frankie was killed, I lost that connection. Charlie lost it too. She accepted that her mom wasn’t coming back, more so I think, because she knew it not only in her head – because I’d told her so – but because she felt it in her heart.
“Ben…Nancy…I saw Frankie after she…” he stopped in mid-sentence, recalling the moment, but took a breath and continued resolutely. “I saw her body. I felt with my hand the stillness I felt in my heart. I told her goodbye. Charlie never had that chance. I wanted to spare her that. I don’t know if I did the right thing.
“I have seen the evidence and I have felt the evidence. But…but something has changed. For some reason, and God only knows how much I wish I knew what that reason is, the connection that Charlie – and I – had with Frankie, is there again.”
Ben looked at warily. “Cass, are you telling me that you believe Frankie is alive?”
Cass sighed. “Ben, in my head I know that it’s just not possible. I released Frankie’s ashes, her spirit, into the wind on Hammond Hill in Bay City. Charlie and I had both made our peace with our loss. But something is happening to me and my little girl. I don’t know what is, but if I have to, as you say, rehash, all of that horror again, so that I can look my little girl in the eye and tell her that her mom isn’t coming back, then that’s what I’ve got to do. Right now, I don’t think she would believe me. Just like Frankie, I can’t hide anything from her. And with what I’m feeling inside right now, Charlie would see it…would know that what I feel in my heart and what I know in my head, just don’t agree.”
Ben leaned back in his chair and studied Cass carefully. Then he sighed. “I hate like hell you having to do this, pal. But if it’s what you gotta do, then I’ll help you anyway I can.”
Cass smiled gratefully, “Thanks Ben. I know this is all kind of hard to wrap your head around.”
“Cass, I’ve been a cop for 35 years and there’s plenty of things I can’t explain. Doesn’t make any of it any the less true.” He pulled his chair in close. “Now, as for getting those records, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Would be less likely if there was still an investigation underway, but since the case was officially closed, there’s no reason why the BCPD wouldn’t share them with a colleague. I could have them within the next day or two.”
“I’d appreciate it. Get everything they have would you?”
Ben met his eyes. “Everything?”
Cass understood and nodded slowly, “Yeah. Everything.”
“And you’re going to Bay City?” Nancy asked.
Again he nodded. “Yeah. I need to talk to some old friends. One dear friend in particular. You’re still sure you don’t have a problem with…”
Nancy immediately cut him off with a raised hand. “Cass, we’re here for you and we’re here for Charlie. I think it would be good for her to spend a few days with Beth and BJ. And I’ll do all I can.”
Cass reached out to lay his hand on hers. “You’re a good person Nancy,” he said warmly, then grinned at Ben, “You too Chief.”
Another harrumph from Ben.
“Let’s just get this done and get the two of you the peace you deserve.”
***
Upstairs in her room, Charlie sighed deeply in her sleep, the whisper of a smile on her lips. Before her she watched as the woman seated in front of a dressing table pulled a brush through the shoulder length mane of red hair. It came just below the collar of the thick, white terry robe in which she was clad. Green eyes followed the path of the brush in the mirror’s reflection and held the same warmth that Charlie remembered so well.
Again the girl sighed.
“Mom,” she whispered as the vision faded.
***
She paused in mid-stroke. With a puzzle smiled she gave a little shake of her head and continued. Placing the brush on the dressing table she gave a final glance to her handi-work and stood, giving the belt of her robe a quick tightening tug and pacing to the bed to retrieve the outfit she had selected.
The ringing of the phone halted her progress and she leaped onto the bed to grab the receiver from the night table positioned opposite where she had stood.
“Good morning,” she greeted cheerily.
“Well, you sound in fine form,” came the reply. “What are you still doing home, Char? It’s 2 o’clock in the afternoon. Aren’t you supposed to be at work by now?”
“Jan, you are my doctor, not my keeper,” Charlotte Winslow retorted as she maneuvered herself to sit cross-legged on the bed. “You of all people should know in our business 9 to 5 is a fantasy. But if I must explain myself to you, I slept in this morning, put in a couple of hours of paper and I’m just now getting ready to go in for the briefing. Care to know what I had for lunch?”
“Don’t be a smartass,” Jan chided, then sighed, “Well, I am glad to hear you slept. Must make for a nice change of pace.”
Char laughed, “You don’t know the half of it. Oh and it was the most glorious rest I’ve had in months. I can honestly say, I’ve never felt better.”
“And that, my friend, is a relief to both of us. Look, try to stop into my office when you get to the Complex.”
“Jan, I just told you. I’m fine.”
“I know…I know. Indulge me will ya?”
“Alright, fine,” Char sighed. “I’ve got the briefing so we’ll have to make this quick okay?”
“Ten, fifteen minutes top.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that. I’ll talk to you later.” Hanging up the receiver, Char paused allowing herself a leisurely stretch. She did feel good; enveloped in a warmth that emanated from within, she felt as if in that moment, all truly was right in her world. Yes, there was that ever present sensation that she felt mingled in with her satisfaction; of longing or… She shook the thought away, determined to enjoy her high spirit.
She again reached for the outfit.
Time to get moving.
***
Cass carefully shouldered open the door leading into Charlie’s room, his hands otherwise occupied by the tray he carried. As he peaked inside he could see Charlie stretching out the kinks of sleep.
“Hey kiddo, can I come in?”
Charlie’s smile beamed, “Oh my gosh! I get breakfast in bed?”
“Don’t get too excited. It’s Fruit Loops and orange juice…and Nancy had to remind me about the milk and make the toast.”
“Mrs. Carson was here?”
Cass settled the tray on Charlie’s lap before taking a seat on the edge of the bed, “Yeah, I had to talk to her for a bit.” He reached over and tucked a stray wisp of auburn hair behind her ear. “How you feeling Sweetheart.”
Charlie looked at him with a self-conscious smile, “I’m okay Dad. Really. I’m sorry about last night. I…”
“Hey,” Cass feigned sternness, “you don’t be sorry for a single thing. I’m just so happy that you finally told me what was on your mind.” He took her hand. “You have to promise me Charlie that you will come to me no matter what it is that’s bothering you.”
“I know Dad. I promise. It’s just that…well…a lot of this I just don’t understand myself, you know. I just didn’t know how to tell you. Everything that I’ve done…”
Cass halted her mid-sentence. “Charlie, you haven’t done anything, okay, except be honest with your old man. And I want you to listen to me very carefully okay?”
Charlie nodded.
“Charlie, you had nothing – repeat nothing – to do with Lila and I getting a divorce. Absolutely nothing. What happened between Lila and I had everything to do with me.”
When Charlie began to speak, he cut her off quickly, “And, I want you to know that I understand what it is that you’re feeling inside. I don’t know how to explain it to you, cuz you and I are kinda in the same boat right now. I don’t really know what it is myself. But Charlie, I want you to know that you and I are in this together. You and me are a team. You got that?”
Charlie looked at him, her eyes conveying all the love she had inside. Holding his gaze, she smiled.
“Best team in the league.”
Cass smiled, “Goin’ all the way.” He touched the tip of her nose with a fingertip for emphasis. “Now, I have to go out of town for a couple of days on business, so I’ve arranged for you to stay with at the Carson’s. Any problem with that?”
Charlie began to much on a slice of toast, “Nope. Me and Beth were gonna do the sleepover thing anyway.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmhmm. We’ve got the Spring Dance on Friday, remember.”
“Oh yeah. How could I forget that.” Cass gave her a look. “You gotta date?”
Charlie looked down, her face turning a decided shade of red shade, “I dunno…maybe.”
“Any one I know?” Cass said smirking
She looked up at him with a sudden frown. “By the sounds of things, you apparently do? Gawwww…don’t parents have anything better to do than gossip about their kids? Sheesh!”
“Alright…alright. I’m sorry. We old people have such dull little lives every once in a while we like to live vicariously through our teenage children.” He stood. “Zach is stopping over in a bit. I’ve got to settle things with him and then get some stuff together for the trip, but I’ve got a later flight so you and I can have dinner okay?”
“Okay Dad.”
“For now, you get some rest. I’ll check in on you in a bit.”
He started for the door, but stopped at her voice. “Dad?”
“Yeah, Honey.”
“Are you going to Bay City?”
Cass regarded her carefully. “Yes I am.”
“Wish I was going with you.”
He moved to lean over her. “This I have to do on my own, Charlie. You understand?”
Charlie nodded then wrapped her arms around his neck. “It’s gonna be okay, Daddy.”
Cass held her close. “I know it is Honey. Everything is going to be fine. I love you Sweetheart.”
“I love you too Daddy.”
***
All heads turned as Philip Kane entered the conference room, striding authoritatively to the head of the long table.
“Okay,” he barked, “we’ve got a lot of ground to cover and not a helluva lot time to do it in, so let’s cut the chitchat and get started.”
Immediately, 14 portfolios were flipped open, each containing an update of recent activities by operatives of the Office of Strategic Espionage and Counterterrorism. Kane took his seat and looked to the burly man at his right.
“Okay Mertaw, what have you got?”
Jock Mertaw was one of a handful of OSEC operatives that was in no way intimidated by Kane or his rank. He spoke matter-of-factly with the same precision with which he conducted his covert activities.
“Operations in Mogadishu are progressing as planned. The whisper campaign against Nogu has gone better than we expected. Most of the warlord’s followers are convinced he’s moving cash out of the country and getting ready to run. We’ve laid down a paper trail and had it leaked through some insiders who we found willing to sell out the boss. We’ve identified and established one of the moderates to lead the internal coup and followed up with a weapons run to support the takeover.” Closing the portfolio, Jocko stared straight ahead and without emotion said, “By this time next week Nogu will be high-tailing it out of there directly into arms of the NATO peacekeepers we’ve had on standby in Nairobi. Once he’s gone, his organization will commence with negotiations with third-party reps from France while he faces a war crimes tribunal in The Hague.”
Kane allowed himself only the faintest smile of satisfaction, “Good work on this Jocko.”
Jock looked down the table to where Charlotte sat and grinned. “Can’t take the credit for this one Boss. Char put together the game plan and coordinated the whole thing from here. I was the just the gofer.”
Kane nodded curtly in Charlotte’s direction. “Duly noted.”
Charlotte smiled inwardly. That was as enthusiastic as Kane got in praising his operatives. As she was reaching for her portfolio, a hand reached out to grasp her own. Looking to her left, she regarded the smiling face of Paul Donovan.
“Nice job, sugar,” Donovan whispered.
Charlotte smiled uneasily and, as subtly as she could, withdrew her hand, reaching for her coffee mug as a cover. Jock silently noted her action.
The briefing went on for another 45 minutes with operatives succinctly summarizing a myriad of covert OSEC activities around the globe, Kane interjecting only to provide blunt direction. Finally he stood.
“Okay. That’s a wrap kids. We meet back here next week.” He turned to Jock. “Jock, I want to see you in my office in a half hour.”
Jock failed to hear his boss as his attention was on Charlotte who was gathering up her notebook and meeting materials as Donovan frowned.
“Jock?” Kane repeated.
“Wha…oh, yeah. Half hour. I’ll be there.” He returned his gaze to his two colleagues. Kane followed the look.
“Something I should know about?” Kane asked.
Jock looked at him with a frown. “I don’t know…yet.”
Kane studied him a moment. “Mmhmm. Half an hour.”
Jock watched as Kane headed for the door, then pause at Charlotte’s side.
“Nice work on the Mogadishu file Winslow.”
Charlotte immediately stood. “Oh, uh, thank you sir, but it was really the field ops that did the work. The intelligence on this one was dead on. ”
“Perhaps, but it’s just photos, wiretaps and hearsay until it’s properly analyzed. I’m hearing good things Char. Very good things. In fact, I think we are going to have sit down one day soon and start talking about where you’re going in the organization.”
“Uh, yes sir. I’d like that very much.”
“I’d like to see you working with people who can help you take those investigative skills of yours to the next level. I think you’ve proven yourself with this one. Jock’s got a lot of confidence in you and it’s important that you are working with agents of his caliber.” His gaze moved over to the silently attentive Donovan and there was a sudden pointed coldness in his eyes, a distinct tone in his voice. “Can’t have you languishing with the wanna-bees in the minors.”
Donovan looked away quickly as Char cleared her throat, Kane’s message vividly clear to them both.
Kane then smiled. “I’ll have my EA set something up for later this week.”
“Thank you sir.” Char said.
Donovan watched the older man leave, anger flashing in his eyes. “That son-of-a…”
“Paul, please.” Charlotte said in exasperation.
“What? Did you hear what he said? Huh? The old bastard just called me ‘wanna-be’. Oh, but then why should that matter to you? My, what lofty praise. Guess we know who the flavor of the day is huh?” Scowling Donovan stared at the door from which Kane had just exited. “Wish they’d put that dinosaur out to pasture already. Jeesh! I bust my ass around here and …”
“Oh Paul stop it.” Char shot back angrily, finally looking into his face. “If you spent less time griping about what Kane thinks of you and more time putting some effort into proving him wrong, maybe you’d actually get somewhere.” She turned and began stuffing notebooks and pens into her briefcase.
Donovan grabbed her arm none too gently. “Just what the hell is that suppose to mean?”
Charlotte shook free. “Come on Paul. Face it. For the past month, you’ve been dogging it around here. You’ve sloughed off most of your casework onto other agents. You don’t have any field assignments and yet you hardly spend any time at the office. I…I just…” She sighed. “Look, you know how Kane is. If he had any real issue with you, he’d have said so. So, just forget about it.”
Donovan glared at her, his voice seething. “You think I’m dogging it? Is that what you think?”
“Paul….”
“Where the hell do you get off saying that crap? Three months ago you couldn’t find the coffee machine around here and now you’re making pronouncements on my work?”
“I’m not making pronouncements on anything Paul. But you’ve been distracted and it shows. People are noticing.”
“What? Has anybody said anything to you? Come on. You’re in so tight with Mertaw and the rest of the geriatric giants. What are they saying? Or are you the one? Huh? Looking to get on the fast track Char?”
It was the shock in Charlotte’s eyes that finally silenced him. For a moment, she simply looked at him then hoisted her briefcase over the chair and swept by him. Donovan was left to stare menacingly at the empty spot where she had stood. Slamming his hand down on the back of a chair, he then turned and raced from the room.
Jock Mertaw watched him leave.
***
At the sound of the knock upon the window of his office door, Ben looked up and frowned as he saw the grin of Officer Murphy Carlyle. He waved Carlyle into his office.
“You wanted to see me Chief?” Carlyle asked cautiously.
Ben reached for a file folder, jotting some notes as he replied dourly. “No, Officer Carlyle, I did not want to see you. Sadly, I have no choice.”
Murphy’s smile faded. “Problem Chief?”
Ben tossed his pen down and leaned back in his chair, “Carlyle? What the hell were you thinking? Pulling the Mayor of Evermore out of his car on Main Street and frisking him in front of the entire town during lunch hour?”
“Oh,” Murphy said lowly, “That.”
Ben leaned forward to review the document on his desk. “According to your report, you pulled His Worship the Mayor over on a routine traffic matter.”
“Busted tail light, Sir.” Murphy offered.
“Oh. Well. Busted tail light,” Ben growled in a tone laden with sarcasm. “Why didn’t you just shoot him through the side window?”
“Look Chief, the guy was totally uncooperative and was belligerent,” Murphy stated matter-of-factly in his own defense. “And I didn’t know he was the Mayor.”
“And if you had known?”
“Well,” the young officer said slowly, “I would have handled it a bit differently.”
Ben stood suddenly. “Carlyle, I don’t give a damn that the guy was the Mayor. It doesn’t matter that he’s the Mayor. This is not Denver. This is Evermore. This is a small town where mouthing off to the local constabulary doesn’t rate a dressing down in full public view.”
“Okay Chief,” Murphy said quietly, “I went a little overboard.”
“A little?!”
“Okay, a lot over board. I over reacted and, well, I’m sorry. I’ll call the Mayor…”
“You most certainly will NOT call the Mayor!” Ben barked, then, taking a calming breath, he lowered the volume. “Carlyle, based on your report, you acted within mandated procedure. That’s not what is at issue here. What is at issue is your lack of judgment. You may have the legal authority but you dispel that authority with caution and, while our esteemed Mayor may not evoke such a response, with a modicum of compassion. You understand?”
“Yes Sir.”
Ben sighed and returned to his chair. “You’ve got an excellent record Carlyle. Your CO in Denver had nothing but good things to say about you and I don’t want you thinking that you’ve got to make any major changes in your approach. Once you settle in, you’ll know what I mean.”
“Yes Sir. Is there anything else Sir?”
“Yeah. I want you to do a little digging for me.”
Murphy brightened, “Sure Chief. What do you need?”
“Don’t get too excited. I want you to call a Captain Ron Barnes at this number.” Ben held out a sheet of paper. “Get me everything they have on the investigation into a homicide from back in ’96.”
“Sure Chief.” Carlyle scanned the notes, “Bay City PD,” he mused, “Sure, I’ll get in touch with their Cold Case unit.”
“It’s not a cold case. They solved it.”
“Then, what do you …?”
“Just get me the file, Carlyle.”
“Sure Chief.” Murphy looked down at the information in his hand. “Frankie Frame Winthrop?” He looked up at Ben. “Hey, isn’t there a lawyer in town…”
“Make the call Carlyle or you will be calling the Mayor.”
“Oh, uh, yes Sir. Right away Sir.” Murphy headed for the door.
***
“So,” Cass said, snapping the lid of his briefcase shut, “anything I’m forgetting?”
“Nope, I think we’ve covered everything,” Zack Edwards confirmed. “Amy rescheduled Haskell for Thursday after next. He wasn’t too happy about it, but, well, made for some interesting speaker-phone eavesdropping.”
Cass shook his head, “What is it with you two? What have you got against this guy?”
“Cass, Haskell is a weasel.”
“Come on,” Cass chided standing and moving to set his briefcase by the front door.
“I’m serious Cass. I’ve been in Evermore for three years and this guys rates right up there with any of the ones we locked horns with in Bay City.”
Cass gave him a look. “Any of them?”
“Well,” Zach shrugged, “he may not be the Carl Hutchins of Old, but this guy is slick. Worse yet, he knows just how slick he is and is constantly trying to best his last scam. I’m telling you, this is not somebody I think we want to be representing.”
Cass stood before him. “Well, I’ve never doubted your intuition on these kinda things before Zach, but if nothing else, I think we need to get a first hand read on this guy. Maybe we don’t want him as a client, but I’d sure like to know who we could end up facing across the aisle down the road.”
Zach grinned in understanding, “Ahhh, now I get you.” He laughed and slapped his hand down on Cass’ shoulder. “Now I remember why I conned you up here in the first place. Nobody does it better than CW.”
“Oh my, such lofty praise,” Cass chuckled. “I seem to recall I had plenty of help in the those long missed days of yore.”
“Yeah,” Zach said his voice tinged with melancholy, “those really were the days. Seems like another time…another world. Sure do miss 'em.”
Cass nodded, “Yeah. But it’s a whole new world Zach. And I have a feeling our adventure is just beginning.”
“Yeah.” Zach agreed, turning his attention to more present matters. “So you off to Bay City now?”
“Charlie and I are going for dinner then I’m heading out.”
“Hey, I’d be happy to take you to the airport.”
“I was hoping you’d offer,” Cass winked.
“Look, I really don’t have anything pressing. Why don’t I come with you? I might be handy down there.”
“Zach, I appreciate it, but, really, this I have to do on my own.”
“No, Cass. You don’t. You really don’t. Look, Frankie was one of the best friends I ever had. Everything she did for Reuben and Ronnie and, well, for me. I just don’t want you going through all of this stuff without some kind of support.”
“Zach, Frankie loved you and I know she’d be grateful for you wanting to be there for me, but you’ve got stuff you need to handle. Besides, I’ll have all the support I could possible need…or maybe even want for that matter.”
Zach nodded, “Felicia.”
“Exactly.”
“Did you let her know you were coming?”
“Nah. I did call to make sure she was in town, but I figured I’d show up unannounced. You know, see if I can’t catch her unaware.”
“I’m sure she’ll really appreciate that. How long has it been?”
“Not that long actually. I saw her just before we came up here. She wanted to make sure I’d recovered from the divorce.”
“Did you tell her what was going on…why you and Lila didn’t make it?”
“You mean, did I get into specifics?” Cass asked leading Zach towards the front door. “No. Felicia would have ended up in the spare room. I’ll explain the situation when I see her. Separate from the divorce, she might take all of this a little better.”
“Cass?” Zach said stopping just before the threshold.
Cass looked over at Zach. He could see the worry etched across the ebony features. “Yeah?”
“You know you’re not going to find out anything knew, don’t you? I’ve always respected what you and Frankie shared – I’ve seen to many amazing things to argue what she had – but you do know that no matter what you and Charlie are feeling right now, it doesn’t change anything. You do know that don’t you Cass?”
Cass looked at his friend for a moment then smiled. “My flight leaves at 8. I’ll see you later.”
Zach frowned, nodded and headed out. After he’d gone, Cass leaned back against the heavy wooden door. He knew what was awaiting him in Bay City…knew that what he was going to do there would dredge up a lot of pain and it frightened him. But by the same token, he knew that the town on the bay also held some of his most precious memories. He would use the memories of the past and the strength that now flowed from inside to temper the harsh cruelty of what he thought he’d long since put behind himself.
“Frankie,” he said softly, “I hope you’re listening cuz Baby, I’m gonna need all the help I can get.”
***
Charlotte sat before Dr. Jan Mercier’s desk, elbow on the arm of the chair, her chin rest in the cup of her hand as she pondered the sudden uneasy feeling that had suddenly washed over her.
Standing just inside the door way, Jan observed quietly, unnoticed. From where she stood, she could see the confusion on Char’s face, but it was only when her friend and patient sighed and straightened, that she made her presence known.
“Sorry, Char. Running a bit behind.”
Char smiled. “Not a problem…for me anyway. But you lost yourself five minutes of head-shrinking time.”
“I’ll just keep you 10 minutes longer next time and everything will work out quite nicely,” she retorted taking her seat. “So, what was that going on inside your pretty little head just a moment ago.”
“Ahhh…so you did get your five minutes in,” Char scolded. “Is spying on a patient considered billable time.”
“Honey, if I wave at you from a passing car, that’s billable time. So, out with it.”
Char sighed, “Oh, just one of those passing things. I don’t know what it is Jan. I just get this…I don’t know…feeling. Like something is going to happen or has happened or….” she shrugged, “I don’t know. It’s just kinda weird you know?”
“Char, I spent a carload of cash to get all these degrees you see on my wall so that I might rid the world of the term ‘weird’. Now as much as you may try to discount these events, I want you to remember that very early on in our sessions, we very definitely identified your sensory capability.”
Char offered a rye grin, “Don’t ever think you wasted that carload of cash Jan. You’re vocabulary alone was worth the big bucks you spent. Look, before you start on that paranormal, psychic mumbo jumbo again, I think I should say that while I may have an empty closet where my memory is supposed to be, I really think I’d remember if I was able to bend spoons with my mind.”
Jan frowned, “Char, making of light of your situation is not in the least bit helpful.”
Char stood and began to pace. “Well, what do you want me to do? Wallow around in the old “oh woe is me” trough? As far as I’m concerned, I caught a pretty good break. By all accounts I should be accessorizing with a granite headstone right now. If I get some weird…”
“I told you…”
“Okay, okay. If I get the odd,” she looked at Jan, “What did you call it?”
“Premonition.”
“…premonition every once in a while, then fine. Great. Whatever. I don’t know what any of it means, but if the price I have to pay for surviving a car crash is a blank slate and the jitters, so be it.”
“But these jitters, as you so ruefully describe them, could hold the key to your past. These could be signals that your subconscious is easing you back into your true self.”
Char dropped heavily into her chair. “My true self? Jan, come on. For the past 6 years I’ve been Charlotte Winslow, OSEC intelligence analyst. I’ve got a great house, a nice car, wonderful friends and an overprotective psychologist. What more could I possibly want?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jan mused. “How ‘bout a life?”
Char became very serious, “I have a life. One that I almost lost. I was in a comma for a year and half and don’t think for one second that I take anything for granted. Are there gaps? Yeah, big ones. Does it bother me? Yes, it does. I find myself stopping every once in a while and asking myself, ‘since when do I like broccoli?’ But I would much rather live in the present that I know than dwell on a past that no longer exists.”
“And you’re not the least bit curious about what is on the other side of that curtain?”
“Of course I am. But the fact is, there couldn’t be anything worth finding back there. OSEC has access to every known data base on the globe. Jock Mertaw himself conducted the search for my past. He tracked down every lead there was and came up with nothing. You got that? Nothing. No birth records. No income tax returns. No rap sheet. Zip. Nada. Nil. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, I never existed.”
“You know that’s not possible,” Jan said with annoyance.
“Isn’t it? I work on cases involving people who spend millions to keep their identities secret. Most of them to make sure they don’t end up in prison or a target for a contract killer. I don’t have any idea who I was or where I came from, but something tells me, that I didn’t end up in a pile of wreckage at the bottom of a ravine because I flunked driving school. Hell, there’s no record of my ever having a drivers license and I apparently stole the damn car.”
She sighed.
“Jan, I know you’re trying to help and I’m sorry if I’m not the most cooperative of patients, but you know that after all I’ve been through this whole process hasn’t achieved a single thing.”
Jan was stern. “Now you know that’s not true. You’ve told me yourself that you’re seeing glimpses of your past.”
“No. I told you I’ve seen flashes of something that is totally incomprehensible. None of it makes any sense and none of it is recognizable.”
“And the child? What about the little girl?”
“Yeah, what about the little girl? You seemed to wrap that one up nicely. What did you say? That this child figure was a product of my subconscious created to fill a painful void. To be a comfort to me. Wasn’t that it?”
“And I still think that’s possible. But you are relating to me instances where this child is troubled; that she is looking for you. And based on your journals, you’re starting to wonder more and more about her…aren’t you?”
Char was becoming more uncomfortable with this conversation. “Well, isn’t that natural? It’s not like I really believe there is some little girl out there somewhere, but, you know, I do…wonder.”
Jan looked down at the handwritten pages on her desk, “Based on these journal entries, you are starting to describe specific features and events…”
“…based on dreams that may or may not be memories. You said so yourself. It’s not a big deal Jan.”
“By itself, maybe not. But I’ve noticed something else in your pattern of journaling.”
Her defenses on high alert, Char spoke slowly, “What do you mean?”
“These journals are incomplete. Oh, you’ve been doing some very skillful self-editing, but you are very clearly alluding to something new here. What is it Char? What is it that you’re not telling me?”
“Jan, you asked me to do this journaling stuff and OSEC regulations require that I meet any and all expectations under Occupational Health and Wellness Guidelines. I have done what is required of me. I have no intention of spending what little personal time I have compiling manuscripts that meet your reading satisfaction. You want interesting, compelling reading? Danielle Steele has a new book out.”
Jan sat back in her chair. “If you need more ‘personal time’ to complete the assignment, I can talk to Jocko and arrange that.”
Char looked at her angrily, “You wouldn’t do that.”
“Char, I have my job to do too you know and that is to make sure that the OSEC operatives in my care don’t end up posing a threat to themselves, their colleagues or the sensitive nature of the work they do. There is something tearing you up inside. You do a much better job in controlling it than agents with 10 times your experience. But if you’re not straight with me…if you don’t tell me what is going on…then there is a very real danger that you could implode. Without provocation. Without notice. And aside from the fact that if that were to happen, I would be out of a very cushy job, I could also end up losing one of the best friends I’ve got.”
Char sighed and slumped back in her chair. After a long moment she spoke meekly.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to submit your latest journal. I want you to be honest with me and believe me, I will know if you’re not. Don’t hold back Char. I want it all. Because if I don’t get the complete picture, you never will. And I promise you, if I have to, I will have you sidelined.”
Char stood. “Alright. I have another meeting. Am I free to go?”
Jan sighed, “Yes, you are free to go.”
Her hand was on the door when she heard Jan. “Char?”
She turned and the doctor’s face was set with professional confidence. “I won’t let you hide from this and I won’t lose a friend to nothing more than their own fear.”
Char quietly closed the door as she departed.
***
Elbows resting on the top of his desk, Kane rested his chin on the knuckles of the fist formed by his hands. Brow furrowed, eyes filled with fury, he regarded Jock who sat in the chair across from him.
“And you’re sure of this?” Kane queried.
“As sure as I can be at this point,” Jock said flatly. “I’ve got nothing solid; nothing I can pin on him that’s going to stick, but everything in me tells me that Donovan is freelancing.”
“And you are basing this on what?” Kane pushed.
“Donovan had requested reassignment from the Afghan desk six months ago. He’d been there for two years and there had been some rumblings so the request was approved.
“Now, he’d been into the thick of things over there. His primary role was to coordinate intelligence ops. The guy can’t find his own car keys, but his ego is big enough that he’ll work his tail off as long as it means he’s the boss. That’s why it was such a surprise when he started lobbying for a spot on Tom Kent’s harbor security team.”
“Why would that be a surprise?” Kane wondered. “With the number of sleeper cells in Europe and their presence in England, harbor security is a priority. I’m not surprised a guy like Donovan with his nose for the spotlight would want to be in on that operation.”
“That’s the thing Boss. He specifically requested a relatively low-level assignment supporting active field agents. What’s more, he’s done his level best to make sure he stays where he is doing grunt work.”
“What do you mean?” Kane asked.
“Well, he’s done nothing to distinguish himself in his role there. In fact, he seems to be trying very hard to blend into the scenery. Tom’s given him the opportunity to make a noticeable impact, but every time Donovan has passed it off to junior ops under the guise of giving the up-and-comers some hands on experience. I don’t see it as anything more than freeing up his own time for, well, his own interests.”
“Okay,” Kane said rising to pace before the window, “so what we’ve got is a guy who goes from gung-ho, headline seeker to shrinking violet in the course of six months. The same guy that was quarterbacking the spooks in Afghanistan is now content being a desk jockey in Southampton? Does seem like a stretch.”
“Right. And consider this, as intelligence coordinator, Donovan would have been working with people who are very close to some of the key figures in Afghanistan. He’d have learned a lot in two years and I just don’t see how he goes from that to chatting up dockworkers.”
Kane stopped. “Jock, are you suggesting that Donovan might have turned; might have bought into Bin Laden’s dogma?”
Jock laughed shortly without humor. “No, anything but that. A guy as self-absorbed as Donovan is not likely to get swept up in ideology. No, Donovan’s god is greed.”
“Greed? You mean, he’s got some kind of scam going?”
“Not that I could point to right now, but there are too many things that just don’t add up about this guy.”
“You suggested he was ‘freelancing’ though,” Kane reminded him. “You must have some theory.”
Jock nodded slowly, “Yeah, but that’s all it is – a theory.”
Kane resumed sitting, “So? Let’s hear it.”
Jock sat up, knowing that he had Kane’s attention and more important, his confidence. “I think that Donovan is using his position in the OSEC harbor security unit as means to distribute narcotics out of England.”
“What?!” Kane thundered leaping to his feet. “You mean to say Donovan is a drug smuggler.”
“That’s what I think, yes.” Jock said calmly. “He wanted out of Afghanistan and yet a check on his phone records indicates that he is keeping in touch with some of his old unit pals who are still in-country. Not only that, Tom tells me that Donovan seems to be focusing all of his attention on ferry traffic coming in and cruise ships going out.”
Kane stood quietly for a moment looking out the window as the gravity of Jock’s allegations began to sink in. “Ferry traffic,” he said quietly.
Jock nodded. “Opium from the Afghan poppy fields comes up through Iran and Turkey then overland or via the Mediterranean entering into France as either raw material or processed heroin.”
“Into England via ferry and back out through the cruise ships.” Kane finished almost to himself. “Sonofa…” Kane turned abruptly to face Jock. “I want that little bastard in my office now!”
Jock stood. “Hold it Phil,” he said firmly, “I told you. At this point all I’ve got is a gut feeling back up by some pretty convenient circumstance, not enough to nail Donovan with.”
“Well I’m sure as hell not going to sit back and let that crap get out onto the street while you come up with the evidence to lock him up.”
“Phil, this has greater implications than heroin getting out to street vendors. The opium coming out of Afghanistan is being used to fund the terrorists and their warlord buddies. We’ve got a chance here to not only plug the pipeline out to the users, but to track down the producers who just also happen to be the same guys blowing up NATO soldiers on the ground over there.”
Jock stepped around the desk. “Phil, you kill as snake by cutting off it’s head. Donovan is at the tail end of this thing. But he can lead us the top. He can serve that head up to us on a platter.”
Kane looked at him warily, “You’re suggesting we put him under surveillance? You don’t think he’s smart enough to pick up on the signs of sudden interest? Come on Jock, you forget. We trained this guy.”
“Yeah. But we can get someone in close. Someone he knows. Someone he’d liked to be closer to.”
“You mean…?” Kane shook his head. “No Jock. Not Char. Not a chance.”
“She’s perfect Phil and you know it.”
“No way. First of all, good as she is, she’s no field op. Secondly, she’s comes with way too much baggage. Hell, if this thing goes sour and the media catches wind of it, we could find ourselves buried under a mountain of skeletons.”
“We’ve managed the fall out from bigger cases than this and besides a lot of years have passed. That trail has been cold for a long time.”
Kane frowned deeply, “Don’t kid yourself. The people associated with Char Winslow aren’t pushovers. I think that was made pretty clear to you. She’s hasn’t had one day in the field. She’s never been involved with people like Donovan and his kind before. She’d never be able to handle it.”
Jock looked at him directly. “Phil, you know that’s not true. Char has been up against people like Donovan since long before you knew who she was and as for experience, she’s been doing this kind of work longer than Donovan.”
“She’s not that person anymore Jock.”
“Maybe not, but you’ve seen her. The talent she has. A person can forget stuff they learn, hell, they can forget the details of their own lives. But the talent Char has, you don’t forget. You’re born with it. Stuff that’s rooted that deep, it’s a part of you.”
Kane considered his words for a minute then sat down. “Okay. Talk to her. Use any approach you think appropriate. But I swear Jock, if this gets back to Donovan, if he cuts and runs, it’s your head that’ll be on the platter.”
Jock smiled slightly then turned to go.
“Jock?”
He turned to face Kane once again. “Yeah.”
“You’re sure that we’re covered. I mean, there’s no one out there that looking for her right now.”
“No. Nobody. Phil, all of it is buried so deep, it’s motor oil in a couple more years. Winthrop has moved on and Char’s not going back.”
***
Murphy Carlyle frowned and began shuffling through the assortment of files and papers on his desk. Not finding what he was looking for, he checked the box that the collection had arrived in.
“Yo, Murph!”
Carlyle looked up to see Officer Daryl Jacoby standing at the door. “Bunch of us are heading to Kelly’s for a beer. Wanna come?”
“Yeah, I’ll meet you there. Soon as find…” his voice trailed away and Jacoby stepped forward.
“What’s all this?”
“Investigation reports. The Chief asked me to get them from the Bay City PD. Didn’t think they’d get here ‘til tomorrow but they must have caught the courier out in time.”
“Okay, so you got ‘em. Let’s go.”
“Yeah, but, it’s not all here.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was a homicide investigation.”
“Yeah, so?”
“There’s no coroner’s report.”
“No coroner’s report? In a homicide investigation? That’s kinda strange.”
“Yeah,” Carlyle concurred. “I’ve got acknowledgement of the body being sent from the coroner to the funeral home, but no coroner’s report.”
“Well, maybe they just missed it. You give ‘em a call in the morning. Come on. We voted and you’re buying the first round.”
Carlyle’s frown remained, “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. It’ll keep.” Grabbing his jacket he started for the door. “And I’m claiming voter irregularity!”
***
“Excuse me, Sir. Would you care for inflight service? Beverage? Snack?”
Interrupted by flight attendant’s voice, Cass had been lost amid the brilliance of the stars as the plane cut through the clear evening sky. “Oh, thank you. Coffee would be great.”
The young woman gave Cass a quick, none-to-subtle appraisal as she poured and smiled. “So, flying home?”
“Wha..? Oh, no. Well, it used to be home. But not for a while now.”
She handed him the cup. “Renewing old acquaintances, eh?”
Cass smiled slightly, “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
“Well, enjoy your flight. Clear as a bell out there. We should be arriving on time.”
“Thanks.” Cass savored a sip of the steaming brew then returned his attention to the night sky. Flying east toward the city where so much of his life had played out in so many surprising ways, he wondered what the outcome of this journey would be. He settled back into his seat and closed his eyes, hoping for a sleep with pleasant dreams. In his mind, he conjured up the image of a red haired beauty with a dazzling, warm smile and shining green eyes. Holding the image in place, he drifted away.
***
Char stood on the terrace. Behind her on the little ornamental table rested her journal. She had done as requested and now gazed up into the sky searching the heavens for…what?
Though silent and still, the spring air still held a bit of winter chill and she rubbed her hands over her bare arms. She’d been in London now for almost three months and while she loved the city, the weather had been a definite let down. When she had awoken from the coma, she had found herself in a hospital in downtown Los Angeles. London fog or L.A. smog.
But in some far corner of her mind, she recalled quiet, cool nights under a sky painted thick with shimmering light. A night like this.
“A good night for flying,” she whispered.
She cocked her head, puzzled. “Do I know anyone flying tonight?” She shrugged and sighed, focusing once more on the glittering points of light above. “Well, if I do, be safe.”
She turned and, grabbing the journal from the table, she stepped inside and slid shut the patio door.
She did not hear the soft tinkling of the wind chimes on a night with no breeze.
But 4,000 miles away, Cass Winthrop stirred in his sleep. |
