Mourning Dove (26 page)

In the elevator Wednesday
morning, Sara juggled her laptop and briefcase to reach for her chiming phone.

“Pam, I’m glad you
called. I printed one copy of the power point presentation. Can you make a
hundred more for the attendees?”

“Sara, have you seen the
Chicago Tribune this morning?”

“No, I got up late. I
barely have enough time to set this presentation up. I’ll meet you in the
ballroom in ten. Are you on your way in?”

“I’m in the lobby. Where
are you?”

“In the elevator, I’ll
meet you on the mezzanine. What’s in the Trib?”

“Before I answer that,
where’s Matthew Farrell?”

“I would suppose he’s
already at breakfast or on his way down.”

“Sara, I’ll meet you at
the elevator. For now, I just want to ask you one question. When do you sleep?”

***

At the mezzanine, the
elevator opened and a crowd was waiting. Pam grabbed Sara’s arm and pulled her
through a waiting stream of people. She dragged Sara into the empty ladies room
and leaned against the door. “What’s wrong? Did terrorists hit Chicago?”

“No, you and Matthew
Farrell did. Read this.” She shoved the morning edition into Sara’s hands just
as Sara’s phone chimed again.

“Wait.” Wedging her
briefcase between her feet, Sara pulled her phone from her pocket.

“Sara, what the hell is
going on out there?”

“Jonathon, I can’t talk
now. I’m about to start your presentation. I’ll call you back later.”

“I’ll call you. I’ll be
tied up in meetings all day. Be careful what you say. The reputation of the
company is at stake.”

“I’ve got a handle on it,
Jonathon. Didn’t you tell me to take the helm?”

“The helm of the
presentation, not the Chicago Police Force! Look, I’ve got to go. Watch it!”

He disconnected and she
looked at Pam with a question on her lips. Again, her phone chimed. “What’s
going on, Pam?”

Holding the paper up, Pam
pointed to the headline on page one.

Sara scanned the headline
as Matthew’s voice filled her ear.

“Sara, don’t come
downstairs yet. I’ll meet you on your floor.”

“Too late, Matt, I’m
barricaded in the ladies room on the mezzanine with Pam. She just showed me the
morning paper. I thought they were going to keep this quiet.”

“You wait there. I’ll be
down in a minute.”

“Look out for the crowd
outside the elevator,” She warned, but he had already disconnected the call.
Leaning against the door Sara scanned the headlines:

Mayor’s Son Arrested!
Lover’s Tryst Uncovers Drug Ring! A federal agent and Sara Stafford, a senior
officer of Starr Shine Communications, stumbled onto a drug deal at hotel
poolside in downtown Chicago early this morning. A late night swim? A stake
out? Or a lover’s rendezvous? Timing was all wrong for the Mayor’s son,
19-year-old Jeffery Dane. The scuffle that followed sent Jeffery Dane to jail
and the agent to the hospital, where he was treated and released.

“Oh Jesus!”

“Yeah, and that’s not the
worst of it,” Pam added.

“Pictures are of the two
of us in the ER, had to be.  At least, we were dressed.”

“Oh God! Don’t tell me
you were skinny dipping in the hotel pool?”

“Of course not! We’d been
following the kid from Monday. He seemed to be everywhere and on all three
shifts in a hotel staff uniform. We staked out the pool and the locker room
where we saw him the night before.”

“Matthew Farrell is a
federal agent?” Pam asked.

“You know he works for the
fed’s.”

“Yeah, but as a
communications advisor for projects with federal funds.”

“Well that, too. I’ve got
to call Robert.”

“He’s probably in the air
at this point. Do you have his number with you?”

“In my briefcase, I hope
he’s on the corporate jet. The first call was from Jonathon in Washington. He’s already got the headlines.”

“This isn’t good,” Pam
folded the paper over.

“We did nothing wrong.
Now, if the Mayor’s son is the kid they arrested last night, he’s the one who’s
going to have to answer for this. He pulled a knife on Matt. It took nine
stitches to close the wound. I panicked when I saw the blood and the gun went
off.

“Gun! What gun?”

“Matthew’s, I dropped it
in the pool when it fired.”

“Sara, Pam, let me in,” a
British voice called out from the other side of the door.

“Matthew,” they said in
unison and stepped away from the door. He slipped in and slammed it shut behind
him.

“Are you two all right?”

“Have you seen the
headlines?” Sara asked.

“No, I caught CNN in my
room. The corridor is crawling with reporters. The kid’s lawyer was interviewed
and is claiming the kid caught us in a sex and drug scandal.”

“Well, shit!” Pam
whispered.

“That won’t hold up.
Anyone who knows us would know better,” Sara said.

“He can try but he
doesn’t have the video tapes.” Matthew added, “The Chicago DA’s office has been
trying to get enough on him for two years. With our tapes and testimony they
finally have what they need.”

“I hope so,” Pam said.
“He’s sleazed out of one crime after another. He’s also been linked to the
local band of Nazi punks.”

“What?!” Sara nearly
shouted and glanced toward Matthew.

“I said...”

“I’m sorry. I heard what
you said. It’s just a shock.”

“Everything that kid does
is a shock,” Pam said. “I’m glad he’s not mine.  I’d kill him.”

“Matt?” Sara asked and he
shook his head.

“Pam, here’s the
presentation handout; we need a hundred copies,” Sara changed the topic and
passed Pam the packet from her briefcase. “Matt and I have to work up something
for the media. I really want to start the presentation on time.”

“I’ll do what I can. You
better try Robert while you have this isolation,” Pam slid out the door.

Sara pulled out her
pocket calendar and flipped to Robert’s travel number. “Are we going to be able
to pull this presentation off, Matt?”

“Maybe.”

Robert answered on the
second ring in his charming southern drawl.

“Robert, have you seen
CNN this morning?”

“How are you, little
lady?”

“I’m fine; a little
shocked by the publicity.”

“Mr. Farrell?”

“He was stabbed, sir. He
says it’s minor. We’re co-presenting Jonathon’s piece this morning. And you
know Matthew’s the keynote at lunch. Robert, I think we should make a statement
to the press so we can get on with the conference.”

“Don’t say anything until
I get there and meet with you both. This calls for damage control.”

“Robert, we did nothing
wrong.”

“It doesn’t take much to
create a media frenzy. I’m having Caruthers from our legal department fly out
later this morning. Before we prepare a statement, the phrase is: no comment at
this time.”

“Can I say a statement
will be forthcoming later today? It might give us the space to continue the
conference.”

After a long pause he
added, “All right, that much. Don’t let them trick you into answering any
questions.”

“Is this going to create
problems in Washington, sir?”

“I hope not. When is your
presentation scheduled to start?”

“In forty-five minutes. I
had hoped to go over last minute changes with Matthew over breakfast.”

“Is he up to this?” he
asked.

“He says he is.”

“I’ll slide in the back
when I get there. After the keynote, you, Mr. Farrell, and I will meet with our
PR people and Mr. Caruthers in my suite. Don’t talk to anyone before that.”

“Pam Lawson from finance
knows, sir. She’s working on the presentation with us.”

“Can we trust her to keep
her mouth shut?”

“I believe so, sir.”

“It might be good to add
her to the group, then. I’ll have Jack Stone join us, as well. A united front
will help and I’ll talk with Jonathon by phone.”

“Robert, is Elaina with
you?”

“She’s in Charleston on family matters.”

“I’ll see you soon, sir.
And again, I’m very sorry for all this commotion.”

Sara tucked her phone
back into its case. “God, I hope I didn’t just get myself fired.”

“Sweetheart, it’s going
to be all right.”

“What about that Nazi
connection Pam mentioned? Could we have been set up? It’s almost as if the kid
went intentionally out of his way to be seen by us, but to what purpose?”

“I saw a swastika
tattooed on his arm last night. I didn’t want to upset you so I kept it to
myself. We’ll see how this unfolds.”

***

Forty minutes later, Pam
approached the podium with a nervous smile on her face.  “Ladies and gentlemen,
I’m Pamela Lawson, comptroller for the Chicago division of Starr Shine
Communications International. We are privileged to have with us today two
notable experts in the field. The first part of this morning’s session is
presented by the sharpest financial mind I’ve ever met.”

She continued to ad lib
as Sara leaned over to Matthew, “That isn’t the intro we wrote out.”

“I believe she’s trying
to build up the credits for both of us.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,
it’s my honor and privilege to present Sara Stafford, corporate comptroller of
Starr Shine Communications and Matthew Farrell, federal communications expert
from the U.S. Department of Justice.”

After the gauntlet they’d
walked through to get to the conference room, a standing ovation from an
overflow crowd was a bit of a shock. Sara’s first thought was that they didn’t
make enough copies.

“Matthew, what’s going
on?”

He placed a hand in the
middle of her back and leaned into the microphone. “Ladies and Gentlemen, thank
you, thank you very much. We are both overwhelmed with your support, however it
is customary to save this much enthusiasm for after the presentation, if you’re
not all sound asleep by that time.”

Laughter filled the room.
Then the crowd began to settle down as he added, “Ms. Stafford will present the
corporate side of accountability for a federal project; then I’ll follow up
with government requirements. Please be seated.”

He backed up to take his seat
beside Pam and Sara began. Within the first ten minutes, most of the overflow
crowd disappeared from the back. They were probably the morbidly curious or the
media trying to pry out information about last night’s fiasco. Halfway through
their presentation, Robert slipped into the back of the room and took a seat.
Immediately, with a nod and wink in Sara’s direction, he handed a folded note
to his aide. The note was passed to Pam as Sara explained the next slide on the
screen behind her. Matthew slipped the white piece of paper onto the podium.
The black heavy scrawl stated:
No Q and A.

***

For an hour and a half
they’d managed to hold the attention of most of the attendees. Matthew wound up
the morning session with, “The moral of the story, ladies and gentlemen, is to
know your objective and make damn sure you follow the rules documenting every
part of the process. Thank you for your attentiveness this morning. We
appreciate your ability to hold down the snoring.” He smiled and nodded to the
audience at their laughter and applause. Robert was beside them within moments
of a second standing ovation. “Nice job Matthew, Sara,” he added with his
handshake.

“Robert, have you met
Pamela Lawson, our regional comptroller?” Sara asked.

“Mrs. Lawson,” he shook
her hand, “I understand we have you to thank for the efficiency of this
morning’s speech and for the security at the door. I’m sorry I missed your
introductions. Shall we adjourn to the ball room? I understand we have a
reserved table for lunch. Caruthers and Brown are waiting for us there.”

Robert and Sara were the
first two seated at the circular table reserved for the Starr Shine crew.
“You’ve been busy here in Chicago, Sara. Was there a plan to your actions or
did you just jump into the deep end of the pool without thinking?” Robert began
in a caustic voice as he smoothed the linen across his lap. Although Sara would
have said the same thing in his shoes, she was not prepared for his reprimand.

“A number of things have
happened in the last few months, sir. Before this, I believed in coincidence.
Now, I don’t. People were stalked, attacked, and worse. The same strangers
began showing up in more than one or two situations and I became suspicious.
That’s what happened at the pool two nights in a row. Matthew was with me
Monday for a late night swim. When I voiced my concern that the same employee
of the hotel seemed to be everywhere we were, on all three shifts, I suppose
his professional curiosity kicked in. We set a trap last night and the kid
walked right into it.”

“Other people are trained
for that kind of operation. I do not believe you are. Are you, Sara?”

“Matthew is.”

“Yes, well, I am not sure
he was doing the job he was assigned either; but I’m shocked he would allow you
to become involved. I also do not like the idea that an executive
representative of my company was caught in a compromising position.”

“Sir, the compromising
position was a fabrication by the kid and his legal counsel. We were staking
out the pool room and the men’s locker room. And before you ask, we reported
the kid’s suspicious actions to hotel security prior to last night’s arrest.
Other than confirm he was not a member of the staff, they disregarded our
concern. Their supposition was he must be a hotel guest. The support we received
from them was miniscule at best.”

“I do not believe Mr.
Farrell is doing what he is being paid to do,” he said.

Sara and Robert watched
Matthew weave his way through his well wishers on the way to their table. He
seemed to have a gift for sidestepping questions.