Mourning Dove (34 page)

Through the emergency
room doors, Matthew scanned the crowd of people waiting, some for treatment and
others for loved ones. Allen was leaning up against the wall beside the door to
a treatment room with his eyes closed. He threaded his way through to him.
“Where is she?”

“She’s in with his body.
The ER staff is giving her a few minutes.”

Matthew walked into the
exam room. Sara, perched on a stool, held her husband’s left hand stroking the
wide gold ring on his finger. She whispered to a man who had lost the ability
to hear.

He walked up behind her
and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Just saying goodbye,”
she said wiping tears from her cheeks.

“He was very brave to
take on the hit man.”

She turned her glistening
eyes up to his. “What?”

“He set a trap and took
on the hit man without asking for back up. I have only my gut feeling on this;
but my gut is almost always proven true.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Retribution, I suppose.”

“Do you think the other
body was…?”

“ID in his wallet says
his name is Jimmy Pike. I suppose that’s an alias. Key ring in his pocket is
similar to the one you and Ron found in Carl’s things. It looks like he came to
finish the job; but Ron finished him.”

“Jimmy Pike is the name
of the new fitness manager at Starr Shine. He makes nutrition shakes when we
skip lunch to work out. It can’t be the same man.”

“How long have you been
drinking these shakes?”

“Since the beginning of
the week. Why?”

“How long have you been
sick?”

“Since Monday night. I
know what you’re thinking but that’s not possible. First of all, Louise is
drinking them too and she’s not sick. Second, it is flu season and we’ve all
come down with it; some long before Jimmy came on board. The shake seems to be
the only thing that soothes my stomach.”

“Is Louise drinking the
same kind?”

“No, he makes up
different flavors for each of us.”

“Okay, let’s suppose this
Jimmy is giving you harmless nutrition shakes, what was he doing at your
husband’s house tonight? And why does he have several bullet holes from a gun
your husband had near his body when we found him? Did you get a good look at
Jimmy Pike tonight?”

“I was focused on Ron
still breathing. I can’t think about this right now. I need to take care of
arrangements.”

Behind them, two agents
and a local cop walk into the room. The older of the two in suits was a pencil
thin man with several strands of hair combed over his bald top. “Farrell, we
have some questions for the lady.”

Matthew took a slow
breath through his nose. “Sara, meet Mr. Ferguson and Mr. Cross from the
Federal Bureau of Investigation and I would imagine the red-haired gentleman in
uniform is from the Greenland police department?” The uniformed cop nodded his
head.

“Gentlemen,” she said,
wiping a steady stream of wetness from her face. In its place she streaked a
line of soot from Ron’s body. She looked like a Sioux warrior intent on doing
battle. “Could we possibly find another time and place to talk? I need to make
arrangements for my husband’s body.  Once I’ve done that, I will answer
whatever questions I can.”

“Ma’am, this is your
husband?” asked the local cop.

“Yes.” She turned back to
Ron and touched his scorched face.

The man in uniform spoke
again, “There will have to be an autopsy on all the bodies found at the scene
due to the circumstances.” His face glowing red, the cop looked down at his
feet.

She looked up at Matthew
and he nodded. “May I set up funeral arrangements for after?”

“Of course, ma’am,” the
uniform said. “Just let us know which funeral home and we’ll take care of it.
You can make arrangements from there.”

“Thank you.”

“But we really need some answers
now,” he pushed.

“Mrs. Stafford?” asked
the short stocky suit with the butch haircut.

She appeared to be in a
daze.

“Mrs. Stafford?” Mr.
Cross asked again.

“Excuse me,” She pushed
through the door and escaped.

Cross started out of the
room after her and Farrell stopped him. “She isn’t going anywhere gentlemen.
Give her a moment. Her husband’s partner is outside the door. He’ll watch her.”

“I’ll make sure,” mumbled
the local cop. He pulled the door open and exited the room.

“What’ve you got that the
locals don’t know about?” Ferguson asked.

After Matthew gave them
the inventory of his pockets and his suspicions, he added another piece of the
puzzle. “We’re talking about a terrorist deal, gentlemen, and a nuclear
explosion on the next NASA launch scheduled for the twelfth. Why don’t you work
with Homeland Security in Canaveral?”

“What are you going to
do?” Ferguson asked.

“I’m going to build a
mousetrap.”

Dawn lightened Sara’s
bedroom window. She could hear whispered voices down the hall. They stayed all
night keeping vigil. Vigil for what she wondered. Death had already come
knocking. The nightmare had claimed another loved one. Carl, can you hear me?
Why couldn’t you stop this? “Talk to me damn it! Give me a sign.”

Nothing. She hadn’t heard
his voice since she left for Chicago. The doorbell rang and she heard someone
answer it, a mumble of voices, then the door shut. She stood and peered out.
Ruth Obermeyer walked back across the lawn, looked up at Sara’s window then
continued walking without acknowledgement. Two birds flew to the feeder in the
yard. They looked like pigeons, no, more like doves, almost all white, black
tips on their tails as if dipped in ink. They both turned toward her window.
Their eyes blinked once, twice. They stretched and morning light filtered
through their wings. “Thank you for this,” she whispered when the doves flew
off.

Then she turned from the
window. Cass was standing in her doorway with two cups of tea. “You’re awake.”

“I haven’t slept. Who
else is here?”

“Matthew Farrell got here
a little after midnight. We’ve taken turns resting on the couch.  He tried to
send me next door to get some sleep. I couldn’t leave you. Jordie got here a
little after two. He’d been out with friends and came as soon as he got my message.
Ruth just brought over a coffee cake. There’s fresh coffee if you’d rather.”
She looked down at the two mugs in her hands.

“The tea’s fine.” Sara
reached out for the mug. “You’re an anchor, Cass. Thank you for staying.”

“You thank me one more
time and I’m going to dump Earl Grey all over your white carpet.”

“Where’s Matthew?”

“He’s on the back deck
talking on his cell. Why don’t you take a shower? You’ll find more energy that
way.”

“Allen?” Sara asked.

“He said he would take
care of notifying people connected with the company and the town. He’s going to
close the office for the week after he notifies current clients. You should
eat.”

Sara shook her head.
“Just the tea. I have to call Ron’s parents in Florida after I’ve dressed.”

***

The phone rang just as
Sara turned off the blow dryer. She wasn’t used to people doing for her. Cass
knocked on the bathroom door, “Sara, Robert Starr is on the phone for you. Do
you want to take it?”

Sara opened the door and
Cass handed her the cordless. Behind her, Matthew held up a piece of paper torn
from a notebook. Block printed on it was a note ‘HELP SET UP RECEPTION AFTER
FUNERAL.’ Sara nodded and turned back to the sink. The door closed behind her.

“Hello, Robert.”

“My dear Sara, what can I
possibly say? Jonathon just called. Elaina and I want to help you in any
capacity. You just say the word. You are on paid bereavement leave until you’re
ready to come back. Or I can give you an avalanche of work if that’s what you
want, after the funeral of course. Tell me what you need from us and don’t try
to say there isn’t anything. I know about these things; there are dozens of
details we can lift from your shoulders.”

“Robert, thank you very
much for offering. I’m going to need a week, maybe two; then I wouldn’t mind
being stuck in a pile of work. You could do one thing for me.”

“Anything, little lady.”

“Could you and Elaina
arrange a reception for after the funeral? We’ll need it to be held in Portsmouth, maybe at one of the bigger hotels.” She turned around; Matthew was leaning
against the bathroom door. Sara hadn’t realized he was still with her. He
nodded his agreement.

“Of course, let us know
as soon as you have the funeral arrangements set and we’ll take care of the
reception.”

Robert hung up and she
pressed the disconnect button. “Why?”

“I’m not certain I know
which
why
you’re asking, Sara. Before you explain, how are you this
morning? In control? Or do you need more time?”

“I’m okay for the moment.
I’m still trying to wrap my mind around all I’ve lost. When Carl died, I took
charge; then I pretended it hadn’t happened because the alternative hurt too
much. When the nightmares started to haunt me I just up and left. I told myself
I was leaving a dead marriage; but I was running away from the emptiness of my
grief. It followed me wherever I went. When the nightmares stopped, the real
haunting began. I flew to Chicago and the haunting stopped, but the nightmares
returned. I can’t run away from this kind of thing.  It goes where I go.”

“What are you saying to
me, Sara?”

“I can’t ignore the pain
of life, lived and lost. I have to confront it, meet the anguish and the danger
head on. This time that’s what I’m going to do. Why the note?” She pointed to
the paper still in his hand.

“The bad guys are running
out of people. I’m working on trapping the double cross. I could use your help
if you feel up to it.”

“The reception is part of
the plan?”

He nodded and pulled her
into his arms. She sunk into his comfort. “I can’t bring any of them back,
Sara. But, I can catch the bloody rat that created this mess.”

“What can I do?”

“Trust is essential
here.” He lifted her chin. “Do I have it?”

She looked into the steel
gray of his eyes for a long minute then nodded.

“You can’t tell anyone
else, not Cass, not Robert, not Jonathon, no one. Do I have your agreement?”

“Yes.”

“In a few minutes, after
we get something beside tea in your stomach, we’re going to ask Cass to hold
down the castle. I’ll drive you to Portsmouth to make the funeral arrangements.
On the way back we’re going to move the prize and set the trap. I know you’re a
strong woman, I’m counting on that. But I want you to appear as distraught and
confused as you were last night when Cass came to take you home. Can you do
that for me?”

“Who is it, Matthew? Tell
me.”

“I need to catch him in
the act. The proof I have is easily excused.”

“Robert or Jonathon?”

He smiled at her guess.
“Why not me?” he asked.

“Call it
my
gut
feeling. Which one?”

“I’ll tell you on the
road.”

“Did you remove the
latest bugs and tags from your vehicle?” She asked and he nodded.

“Maybe we should use my
car. You said you checked it yesterday when you scanned the house. It’s been
safe in the garage since then.

“Ruth came over this
morning,” she added. “I saw her leaving after she dropped off the cake. Don’t
rule her out.”

“If I didn’t know you
better I’d think you were becoming paranoid. Tell me what else you know about
her.”

“If her husband died of
natural causes sitting in his recliner in their living room watching the
morning news, why was a pad of gauze, with the sweet stink of ether, and a
frayed strip of white medical tape under her bed? They’re Mossad; she says
retired. I don’t believe it. Not from the masquerade changes he made these last
few weeks and the trail he’s made following our activities. I’m not even sure
he’s the one who died. If this sounds paranoid, so be it.”

“We’ll find the answers,”
he said. “Are you ready for the next step?”

She nodded and he opened
the bathroom door.

Cass was slicing a
coffeecake into servings when they entered the kitchen. She looked up and
smiled.  “Are you hungry?” she asked.

“Is this what Ruth
brought over?” Sara asked in return.

“It’s great. Jordie is on
his third piece, the porker.”

Sara raised her hand and
Jordie waved back from the table, sadness a mask on his face. “I’ll pass,” She
reached into the bread box and pulled out a loaf, furry and green, dropped it
into the trash can under the sink then pulled a bag of English muffins from the
freezer.

Cass grabbed the bag from
her and sliced cheese to melt on top. “Have you called Florida yet?”

“You know I haven’t.”

“One of us can do that
for you,” Cass said.

“I need to do it.
Thanks.”

Cass turned from the
counter waving a bread knife in her hand and raised an eyebrow. Jordie and
Matthew both turned toward them, their cheeks stuffed with coffeecake like
chipmunks gathering food for winter. “I’m sorry, Cass, bad habit.”

Silence filled the room
when Sara walked to the phone by the couch and dialed a number memorized when
Carl’s school triumphs needed to be shared. It rang twice, Ron’s mother
answered.

Sara sank into the middle
of the couch, held the receiver away from her ear, and stared. She couldn’t,
not yet. She hung up to a room of silence. An ocean had flowed from her eyes
but it was not done yet. She folded over her knees and rocked. The phone was
removed from her hand and she looked up as Cass hit redial. Jordie slid onto
the sofa on her right, Matthew on her left.

“Mrs. Stafford, I’m Cass
O’Brien, Ron and Sara’s friend... Sara was trying to call you and got
disconnected. Just one moment...” Sara reached for the phone again. “Mom, it’s
Sara.  Is Dad with you?”

“He’s right here. Do you
want to speak with him?”

“No, not yet. I’m sorry
to have to call with this. There was a gas explosion at the house. I am so very
sorry. Ron’s gone.”

***

“Sara, do you have a
notebook with you?” Matthew asked. She was staring out the car window, dry-eyed
at last. “Sara, love, notebook?”

“What?”

“We need to make a list.”
She nodded and dug into her purse. A black leather calendar and pen finally unearthed.

“What kind of list?” she
asked.

“Arrangements for your
husband.”

He watched her flip
through the pages filled with life’s details. “What are you looking for?”

“March, we just have to
repeat March, the 16th through the 22nd.”

Matthew understood now,
Carl died on March 15th. He waved at the toll taker when they slid through the
EZ Pass lane at the York tolls. When he glanced back at her she was staring at
the almost unrecognizable scribble on a tear-stained page. “What we need is a
new list,” he finally said. “Find this week’s calendar page and I’ll give you
the list.”

She flipped through the
pages of the year, ripping some from the binding; then flattened a blank page.
In a near whisper he started, “First stop is the funeral home, then the church,
the florist; what else?”

He watched her scrawl a
shaky script across the sixth of November. She added, “The office, clothes and
pictures from the house.” She glanced up at him with a dazed look. “And the
park?” she asked.

“Don’t put the last on
there, just the obvious.” She stopped writing and stared out the side window.
He took the first exit off the high bridge and pulled over to the side of the
road. She was folded into herself rubbing her index finger over the date. “Are
you okay?”

“No. It’s okay though.
Where were we?”

“Where were you?”

“Today would have been
our twenty-seventh anniversary. Two years ago, Carl gave us a party. We danced
‘til midnight. I remember a room filled with laughter.”

“Why the office?” he
asked.

She sighed. “Allen and
the new bookkeeper, I don’t remember her name, she may be there. We’ll have to
coordinate who’s doing what.”

“We’ll have to go out to
the point before dark,” he added. “Could we do some of this tomorrow?”

She shook her head and
tensed her jaw. He watched the muscles twitch beneath her cheek. After a long
pause, she said, “We need to finish it today.”

“All right.” He restarted
the engine. “You perform like this through next week and this will all be
over.”

“Do you think this is an
act!?”

“I’ve been pushing, Sara,
and I apologize. Think about what we can use as a decoy.”

“You mean in addition to
my grief?”

“To hide a fake cylinder
and disk in. Which way do I go from here to reach the funeral home?”

“Take the next left. How
big are they? The disk and the cylinder, I mean.”

“I’ve not seen them. I
would suppose the disk is the same size as a CD or DVD, maybe smaller. I don’t
know the size of the cylinder. I’m not even sure there is one.”

“The base of the obelisk
is hollow. If they’re not too large, it might do.”

“What obelisk?”

“Carl’s stone, he found
it while he was doing his masters in Europe. He had it mounted on a mahogany
base and kept it in his apartment. After he...I couldn’t handle seeing it
daily. It gave Ron some comfort to have it near. He kept the obelisk in his office.
During the break-in it was knocked to the floor and buried under some industry
catalogs. On the base a trap door we didn’t know existed was open. Carl kept
his agency identification there. That’s when Ron finally began to believe his
death was not a suicide.”

“Where is this obelisk
now?”

“After the break-in, we
figured it was something we should protect. I’ve kept it wrapped in a stadium
blanket in the trunk of my car.”

“This car?”

“It’s not here now. When
I flew to Chicago, my car was going to have to stay in the company lot. I moved
it.”

“Where?”

“Let’s see if we can find
the cylinder first and find a decoy small enough.”

***

The sun was riding the
horizon by the time Matthew and Sara parked in front of the first gate at Odiorne Park. “I still don’t understand why we couldn’t use my car for this?” she asked.
“You screened it before we left the house.”

“Let’s just say it’s my
paranoid tendencies. Allen’s fiancée’s car should not be tailed and it looks
like you’re still at the office working with Allen. There’s snow in the air. I
want this done before our footsteps leave a track.”