The Bovine Connection (31 page)

Angelica looked at her purse. She impulsively felt compelled to call Dr. Goolrick and tell him about Matthew. She walked over to her desk and picked up her purse, quickly finding her cell phone. There was a missed text from Michael. “Send your address, just landed.” Stunned he was already in D.C., Angelica quickly sat it back down as if it had burned her hands. She paused and nervously tapped her fingers on the desk. Angelica noticed the time was twenty-two after. She realized she needed to compose herself and get back home. Michael would be at her place soon. She picked up her cell phone and sent him the address and location of her hidden key.

Angelica decided he could let himself in if he had to… although her vanity still made her twinge at the thought that she might not have time to freshen up before he saw her. Her runny mascara notwithstanding, she decided to call Dr. Goolrick anyway.  

Angelica reached down and pulled his card out from her wallet. As she did so, she accidentally pulled out the ‘The Brown Palace’ cocktail napkin that contained the strange metallic object that she cut from her arm the night before.

Angelica put her cell phone and his card down on her desk, unfolded the napkin and removed the device. She held it up to the light and studied it. The light bounced off its shiny, smooth surface. A tiny piece of metal… it was rectangular in shape and appeared about a half of an inch long.

Angelica laid the device down on the napkin and called Dr. Goolrick. “Dr. Walter Goolrick speaking,” he answered business-like.

“Hello Doctor, Angelica Bradley. Hope I found you well.”

The doctor sounded surprised. “Well hello, Angelica! Yes, yes, you did.”

Angelica took a breath. “I hate to have to tell you this… but… Matthew is dead. They originally thought it was a suicide, however the medical examiner has now ruled it a homicide.” Angelica went silent. And for a moment, complete silent seized both of them.

“Oh no, my God, I can’t believe it… not Matthew! Do you know how?” The doctor waited with heavy breaths.

Angelica took a deep breath matching his, “He was found hanging by a rope from his upstairs banister. There were apparently signs of a struggle, however.”

“I must say, I am quite shocked to hear this news… Poor dear… dear Matthew.”

“I’m wondering if you could help me, Doctor. A curious thing happened the other morning while in Denver, after our dinner. I woke up to find a raised area of skin on my forearm and well, I pushed at it and it seemed to move so… I cut it out,” Angelica said, barely flinching.

“You cut it out?” Dr. Goolrick blurted.

“Yes, I cut it out with a razor in the bathroom and it is sitting here on my desk. I’m looking at it now… it appears to be some sort of device made of metal or lead, I believe, but I am no expert.” Angelica felt as if she were stumbling over her words as she became aware of how crazy it must have sounded and she felt suddenly very vulnerable.

“I would like to see that device. I could meet you wherever you would like. I have a friend with a lab at Georgetown and he had some very sophisticated instruments that could tell us what this thing is made of.”

“That would be very helpful Doctor. Thank you. When should we meet?” Angelica sounded relieved.

“Well, let’s see, I will need to free my schedule and call my friend… maybe the day after tomorrow?”

“That will work out perfectly. Just send me over the details of when and where we should meet when you have worked it out. And thank you again, Doctor. You are already becoming one of the few people I seem to be able to trust right now.”

“Donec iterum conveniant fratrem!” Dr. Goolrick said in perfect Latin.

Angelica hesitated, “I’m sorry… I didn’t understand what you just said.”

“It’s Latin… Till we meet again.”

Angelica nodded to herself. “Yes, till we meet again, Doctor. Hopefully very soon.”

Angelica hung up her cell phone and wrapped the device up in the napkin before she carefully put it back in her wallet. She then grabbed the top secret documents and shoved them back into the folder. She turned the light off and reluctantly walked out of her office.

T
he building lit only by the glow of red exit signs was ominously quiet in the early evening hours. It was after six o’clock and almost everyone had gone home for the evening. Walking through, she noticed the cleaning crew moving a cart out of a storage closet. One of the maintenance men looked over at her and solemnly nodded with a cold and lonely countenance. Angelica shivered and conjured up a quick smile, then hurried down the dim hall to the elevator. She nervously pushed the button several times while impatiently waiting for the doors to open.

Angelica was startled as a bell sounded and the elevator doors opened. She exhaled a deep breath of relief and stepped into the elevator, hitting the button forcefully, hoping the doors would shut more quickly.

Once downstairs, she stepped out the front entrance and located her white, five series BMW about thirty feet away in the corner of the nearly empty parking lot.

Apprehensive, and noticing the sudden sensation of moisture in her armpits, she rushed over to her car. Angelica glanced around to her right and noticed a black Tahoe SUV parked over a few aisles from her car. Unable to make out if there was someone inside the Tahoe, she pushed the unlock button on her remote, and it made a familiar chirp as she walked briskly and confidently over to her car.

Angelica quickly opened her door and tossed her purse, laptop and the file onto the black leather passenger seat, then started the engine.

As she began to back out of the parking space, she looked in her rearview mirror and that’s when she saw him. Angelica caught a glimpse of a man’s face inside the Tahoe and recognized him immediately as the same man from the Apple store in Denver. Her heart sank as the sensation of fear moved through her body.

Angelica pulled out, squealing the tires, while she willed herself to not look back. All she was focused on at that moment was getting out of the parking lot as quickly as she possibly could. She turned the steering wheel fast to the right as her car began to slide towards one of the cement poles. She felt the collision of her left rear door and the pole as her BMW scraped past the narrow space. She slammed down hard on the gas as she approached the exit. Squinting, she sped towards the closed gate. There was no time to stop and use her key card to let the long barrier lift up to let her out. The BMW slammed into the barrier and it was no match for the speed and weight of the car as it broke into three splintered pieces. Sparks flew from the undercarriage as Angelica’s BMW landed hard onto the asphalt and safely out of the parking lot and onto Hayes Street.  

Angelica sped past
The Washington Post
right before she turned onto Jefferson Davis Highway. Angelica stepped on the gas harder, speeding down the interstate towards her townhouse, while every few seconds continuing to glance up at her rearview mirror looking for the Tahoe.

Angelica rounded the corner and onto her street. In the distance she could see her porch lights emitting an ambient golden glow. As she slowly pulled up to the curve in front of her townhouse, she glanced in her rearview mirror. His Tahoe was nowhere in sight. Did she loose him? “What did it matter?” she thought. “If these people know my middle name, they probably know where I live.” That immediate thought made her blood curdle.

Angelica turned off the headlights and sat motionless as she let the car continue to idle. She looked up the walkway and surveyed the surrounding hedges. What was only a week ago her safe haven had now become a maze of potential threats and horror. She hesitated for a moment and considered going to a hotel. But she couldn’t. This was her home and she would be damned if anyone would prevent her from sleeping in her own bed. She made a mental note to buy a gun. The baseball bat she had tucked away under her bed would do her no good right now. Angelica remembered she did have a small black canister of pepper spray that she kept in her glove compartment. She was supposed to attach it to her key ring but it was too bulky and looked ugly.

Angelica opened the glove compartment and pulled the canister out. Holding it in her right hand and her keys in her left, she turned off her car and gingerly opened her door. She grabbed her purse, laptop and files from the passenger seat and wedged them under her arm.

As she made her way to the front door, she turned her head from side to side anticipating at any second, someone jumping out of the shadows. Safely on her porch, she put the key in and turned the lock, pushing the door open with her left shoulder. She held the pepper spray in front of her as she walked into the foyer.

Angelica stopped breathing as she immediately noticed a light on in the kitchen. She was positive she had turned all the lights off before she left and the sudden realization that someone may be in the house was more than she could take. She felt like a small, vulnerable child whose parents had suddenly left her alone with no warning. She mustered every last ounce of courage and resolve and screamed, “Who the hell is there? I have a gun!” Suddenly she heard a rattling in the kitchen as a shadow of a male figure moved into view from in front of the refrigerator.

Michael stepped out of the kitchen with two glasses of red wine. “Well, hello there, beautiful… You can put your gun away… hope you like your wine robust.” He smiled seductively.

Angelica leaned over and softly dropped her keys, file, laptop and mace to the floor. She twisted one arm around to push the door shut behind her and then turned the deadbolt. Angelica was pale and her whole body was trembling uncontrollably as she looked at Michael.

“Everything okay, Angelica?” he uttered as he turned and placed the glasses down on the counter beside him, rushed over and grabbed her, pulling her head into his chest.

Angelica started to cry. Then the cry turned into a sob. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” she whispered as she looked up at Michael with a red face, wet with tears.

“I’m here, sweetie, you’re safe… What has happened, baby?” Michael asked as he put both palms to her cheeks directing her eyes to meet his.

“I’m being followed. This man in a black hoodie… I saw him again at the mall in Denver, after Yellowstone Regional, and just now he was sitting in a black Tahoe SUV in the parking lot of the my building… My car’s a wreck. I had to lose him. I’m scared Michael,” she stuttered, as tears ran into her mouth. She opened her lips, trying to catch a breath between each word.

Michael examined her face with sensitive eyes. She was a woman-child. The presence of a frightened, broken little girl was still dwelling inside of her wanting to feel safe, and on occasion, when Angelica dropped her protective armor, the child emerged.

Michael softly nudged Angelica to step away as he opened the front door to the townhouse. He stepped out cautiously and looked around. There were a few cars parked along the curb, but no black Tahoe. He stepped back in the foyer and shut the door, then turned the deadbolt, pulling at the door to double check that it locked.

Taking Angelica’s hand, he led her into the living room and sat her down on her white sofa. She griped her knees. Michael noticed that Angelica’s mind appeared to be somewhere else. With a wet face, she sat with a blank stare.

Michael dropped his shoulders and slowly walked into the kitchen and retrieved the wine glasses from the granite countertop, then walked through the other side of the kitchen into the living room. “You need this, trust me… it will help.”

Angelica looked up with red eyes and smiled. “Yes, I certainly do, thank you.”

Michael handed her a wine glass and sat down beside her on the sofa.

“Do you think I should stop… walk away from the story, Michael?” she asked as she looked intensely into his eyes, examining his expression.

Michael lowered his head as he spoke… “I want you to stop… I don’t want anything to happen to you. However, something tells me you aren’t going to.” He smiled, but she sensed his fear behind the fake smile.

“You know, it seems like I always lose those I care for… I don’t want to lose you. Let me help you, Angelica.”

Angelica’s face softened. “You being here in D.C. helps me.”

Michael couldn’t hold it in any longer. He put his glass down on the coffee table. “What are you going to do when you realize no one wants to know the truth?” Michael’s tone was harsh.

Stunned, Angelica moved back on the sofa, away from Michael. Her mouth dropped open. “What do you mean? Why would people not want to know the truth?”

The air in room felt stuffy. Michael stood up, walked over, and opened the patio door, before stepping out, he turned around and said, “I’m sorry.”

Angelica sat on the sofa for a moment, shocked, still peering in the direction Michael was standing, confused by his outburst.

Angelica finally stood up, and with her wine in her hand, she stepped out onto the patio. The evening sky was a mixture of dark shades of grey and blue. The ripples in the cloud clusters were lit up by the moon as they moved steadily in front of it.