The Twelfth Of Never: A suspense mystery romantic thriller (14 page)

"Then how do you know for sure?"

"It's a long story and I'd rather not talk about it. Not
now at least."

"When you do, I'm here." Benjamin said. He had a
solemn expression on his face. Jenny knew she could count on him.

They sat there for almost an hour talking about the man they
had both loved, each in their own way. The envelope on the counter was a
constant reminder of why she was there. But Jenny avoided opening it for
obvious reasons.

Benjamin nervously ran his fingers through his thick black
hair, and then finally turned to Jenny. "Why do you think Trish accepted
the modeling assignment out of town?"

"She really didn't say," Jenny replied.

"I think she's avoiding me. We've been arguing a lot
about her being at the show."

Jenny glanced over at Benjamin and then at the work he had
done using Trish as the model. "You have to admit, there really isn't a
resemblance. So why the big issue about your models being there?"

"Actually, the gallery isn't who wanted her there."

"But she said you told her, they wanted her."

"So I lied," he shook his head.

"Well she doesn't think any of this resembles her."

"Oh, but it does," Benjamin replied. He got up off
the stool and quickly walked over to the one nearest them. "See the
sparkle in the blue background, that represents her eyes, and see the way the
crimson glistens, that's her smile, it glows and lights up the room." His
eyes sparkled with pride talking about the masterpiece he created, and the
woman who inspired it.

"Benjamin, I didn't know," Jenny whispered. For the
first time she saw Benjamin as an admirer of Trish.

He glanced down, then raised his eyes and turned to Jenny.
"She doesn't even know I exist."

"Maybe if you gave her a clue how you felt."

"She would only laugh," Benjamin replied, and then
looked away for a moment.

"Benjamin," Jenny said softly. "The way you
described her, she's a thing of beauty. But when she looks at what you paint,
she thinks all you see is someone shallow, with no substance."

"No. That isn't the way it is."

"Well, tell her then."

"She has so many men falling at her feet worshiping the
ground she walks on." Benjamin picked up the brush on the table then
dabbed it into the pallet. He added a little linseed oil, but then just put the
brush down and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."

"That's all they are, Benjamin," Jenny reached over
and gently touched him on the arm. "They all come and go and not one means
anything to her. That should tell you something." Jenny sipped her coffee,
forgetting for a moment the unpleasantness that brought her there.

"Duty calls." Benjamin got up finally. He reached
for the pallet and brush, and then walked over to the easel.

"If you want me to play cupid, let me know." Jenny
smiled.

"Don't do anything." Benjamin shook his head shyly.
He was already applying touches of color to the canvas.

The envelope lay on the counter. Jenny opened it and took the
map out; she glanced at all the markings. Jenny quickly jotted down the
mountain range in Maryland before pulling out the other sheets. She had hoped
for some enlightenment, but nothing came. The listing of caterers could only
mean someone was planning a large gathering, but whom? Benjamin leaned over her
shoulder, glanced at the list.

"You planning a party?"

"No," Jenny said finally. Suddenly she was
frightened of Benjamin's involvement and pushed him aside.

Benjamin went back to his painting, leaving Jenny to the
envelope and its contents. The last sheet definitely had to be in code. The
numbers were almost cryptic and the second list of dashes and letters with
numbers made no sense at all. Jenny did not know what she expected. She had
hoped maybe she missed something earlier, but knew now that it was useless.
Whatever was there still meant nothing to her. She reached in the envelope
while Benjamin was not looking and pulled John's dog tag out, and then put it
in her purse.

Benjamin glanced at his watch. "You'd better get going or
you'll be late for work."

Jenny quickly slid everything back in the envelope. She walked
back into the storage room and tucked it behind some boxes. Before leaving she
walked up to Benjamin, reached over, and kissed him on the cheek. She then
whispered in his ear.

"Tell her how you feel, she may surprise you."

"Do you really think so?" Benjamin asked.

Jenny smiled and picked up her purse. There was no time to
dwell on the romance of her friends. She had a mountain range to check out,
along with a list of caterers.

CHAPTER 13

Gideon drove through the heavy traffic, not saying a word to
Jake. They had been driving aimlessly for what seemed like an eternity but in
real time was only half an hour. It was not until Gideon pulled up to the old
precinct in Midtown and parked behind a row of squad cars that Jake finally got
up enough courage to speak.

"What are we doing here?" Jake asked.

"I want to know about Jenny Hamilton and if she's
connected to John." Then he quickly corrected himself.
"Delaney."

"Aren't we going back to the hospital?"

"Under the circumstances, it's highly unlikely."
Gideon turned to Jake. "If someone is digging through our trash to see
what we're up to, I would rather keep on the move."

"Yeah, but we have to stop sometime."

"Well this is our first stop," he said to Jake,
looking at him straight in the eye. "You happy now?"

Gideon quickly got out of the car, and then turned back to
Jake. "Are you coming?"

It did not take long to climb the three flights of stairs.
Once they reached Bronk's office, Bronk quickly motioned for them to come in.

"You bringing my guy back?" Bronk asked, motioning
to Jake.

"Not really, I'm kind of growing attached to the
red-headed buffoon."

Jake turned to Gideon. "Gee, thanks, you make it sound
like I'm your new pet."

"I've got work for him," Bronk said pointing at the
case files at the end of his desk that were growing by the hour.

"A few more days, that's all I ask."

"How am I going to justify this with the
Commissioner?"

"Like you always do," Gideon replied.
"Lie."

Bronk got up and walked over to the window and then threw his
hands up. There was no use talking to Gideon; he never listened anyway.

"What do you have on the hospital murder? You know, the
janitor, Louis Mendez."

Bronk turned to Gideon, and then looked at Jake.
"Nothing. No one heard or saw a thing. Same old crap, no one wants to get
involved!"

Gideon shook his head affirmatively. "We have another
hospital employee who turned up dead this morning."

"Think it's connected?"

Gideon rolled his eyes. "What do you think?"

"Why are you here?"

Bronk had always been an easy source for information in the
city, especially if Gideon didn't want the agency to know his angle. Gideon
handed him a slip of paper. "Could you check her out? Where she lives,
where she works... you know the routine."

"Does Beth know?"

"It isn't like that." Gideon laughed, and then
continued, "She might be involved, we don't know for sure yet."

"Give me a few minutes. There's a coffee machine around
the corner while you wait." Bronk pointed beyond a group of people
standing near the exit sign.

After two cups and a rehash of the last two days events,
Gideon sat with Jake on the old wooden bench that lined the precinct halls. It
was there that they waited for Bronk.

"You always come to him to get information?"

"When it suits me."

"Isn't that a little unorthodox? Especially with the
computer network you have down at Langley."

"Sometimes it's quicker to get info in the field.
Besides, with a person like Bronk, there's no paper trail."

"Fine time to think about that now."

Gideon turned to Jake, his jaw muscles tensed. He knew what
Jake meant and it angered him that he had to be reminded of his blunder. Most
of all, it angered him that it was the truth.

"I can't undo that now, can I?"

Bronk, who had a yellow sheet of paper in his hand,
interrupted the two.

"Here, this is what I turned up. It isn't much." Bronk
handed it to Gideon while Jake watched.

Gideon looked at the name and the information on the yellow
sheet. Neither address was far from Cindy's apartment. Slowly he got up, ripped
the piece of paper in two, handed Jake the top piece and put the other piece in
his pocket.

"Where are we going now?" Jake asked.

"I'll drop you off at her apartment. You check around to
see if she's there. I'll go to the University."

* * *

Jenny stood on the corner of Washington Square North, staring
at the park before her. A tear slowly rolled down her cheek. Through the wave
of branches birds sang out for the entire world to hear, calling attention to a
new day, a new life. Her new life, one without perpetual mourning. So much of
what happened left her angry that she was not told the truth from the
beginning.

Jenny could not hide from life any longer. The bells were
ringing in the distance, symbolizing a new beginning. She turned and looked up
at the fourth floor of the Admissions Building. She thought about Steve and
what Trish had said, but was not prepared to deal with that just yet.

In the distance Jenny heard her name. She turned, quickly
wiping away the tears. "I thought you were on location," Jenny said
when she saw Trish coming toward her.

"I was."

"What happened?" Jenny asked.

"The usual. It wasn't a modeling assignment after
all." Her eyes rolled with the usual disgust. "God, I hate men."

"You aren't hurt, are you?" Jenny asked. She reached
for Trish to offer comfort.

"No. But let's just say he won't be causing anyone else
trouble for a long while."

Jenny laughed. "What did you do?"

"You don't want to know," was all Trish said. The
two walked slowly across the street to the entrance of the Admissions Building.

"Benjamin is looking for you," Jenny said.

"I don't know if I'm up to dealing with him today."

"Maybe if you stopped to see the paintings you'd
understand that he sees the inner you after all."

"Like he could really see beyond the outer-image he has
of me."

"I just left him at his studio," Jenny reached over,
took hold of Trish's arm. "He sees and feels a lot more than you
think."

"You're not just saying that?"

"No, Trish. Benjamin really does care about you. More
than you know."

Jenny watched Trish hurry down the street, and then disappear
around the corner. Jenny envied her. So much time had been wasted between the
two because of petty bickering. Then she thought about her own life, the last
five years waiting for John, and it angered her that she had not been allowed
to mourn his death.

* * *

Gideon dropped Jake off at the entrance to MacDougal Alley and
watched as he slowly walked down the deserted street. He'd purposely assigned
Jake to the apartment, figuring Jenny would already be at work. Parking the car
south of the park, Gideon slowly walked down the winding path. He remembered
all of it from John's description, and had a sense of being there before. But
Gideon knew he had never stepped foot in this part of the village. The park was
filled with students, the Admissions Building was to his right. It was where he
would find Jenny Hamilton, and possibly the girl of his dreams.

Gideon reached in his pocket and read what Bronk had written.
Jenny was the wife of John Hamilton, who was still listed as MIA. It puzzled
Gideon because he had seen John Hamilton die in Vietnam. Gideon's head ached.
The noise of students scurrying about only made the pain worse and then,
suddenly for a brief moment, they were not students.

The stench from human waste filled his nostrils while diesel
fumes hung heavy in the air. Gideon covered his ears as he tried to block the
chatter of some unknown language. He spun around. The trees were a blurred
mixture of green and brown. Leaves blew in swirling whirlwinds while birds
fluttered about. When Gideon heard the backfire in the distance, he stopped.
His breathing was labored, his body felt too heavy to move. The sound of water
from the fountain was all he focused on as he reached down, cupped his hands
and splashed his face.

The flashbacks were getting worse as time went on. Ever since
Delaney had contacted him two weeks earlier, he'd been reliving a time in his
life that was locked deep inside the dark recesses of his mind. It was scaring
the hell out of him.

The cool liquid dripped from his forehead. He leaned back and
glanced up at the sky and prayed no more would come. For years Gideon had
feared the memories his mind suppressed. He took a deep breath. There was work
to do and no time to dwell on that period in his past.

* * *

Jenny walked down the hall to her office while glancing up at
the clock on the wall. She was only fifteen minutes late. Opening the door she
peeked in sheepishly. Steve was already sitting at his desk, his coffee mug
empty.

"You decided to show up," Steve said looking up from
the morning paper.

"You wouldn't believe how bad it got," Jenny said,
walking over to her desk. She tossed her purse in the bottom drawer and sat
down.

"I know, I've been reading all about it."

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking at Steve as
if she did not know what he was referring to.

Steve set the paper down, and then stared up at Jenny for the
longest time before speaking. "It says here, John Hamilton passed away
while a patient at New York Hospital. They are looking for leads, which tell me
he did not die of natural causes."

Jenny shrugged her shoulders. "Steve, he wasn't John, but
he did tell me John was dead. I believe him."

"You aren't in trouble, are you?"

"If you mean, did I kill him? No."

"What happened?"

"It's too scary to talk about."

"Why don't you go to the cops?"

"He told me not to trust anyone."

"And you believe him?"

"I watched while someone killed him," Jenny
whispered; her voice quivered as she spoke.

"What is so important that you shouldn't trust
anyone?"

"He gave me some information."

"Like what?"

"I'd rather not say."

"You don't trust me?"

"It isn't that. Two people have already died. I'm afraid
to get anyone else involved."

"I never heard of anything so absurd," Steve argued.
He got up from his desk and walked over to the phone. Before dialing he turned
to Jenny. "I'm calling the police."

Jenny grabbed his hand and stopped him from picking up the
phone. "No, you can't."

"I knew the moment you said you were going to meet that
man that it would only lead to trouble."

"Let me work this out," Jenny argued.

The look of frustration crossed Steve’s face. "What's the
use anyway?" He stomped over to his desk, sat down and did not say another
word.

Jenny busied herself with filing new applications and then
completed the report she'd started yesterday afternoon. As much as she wanted to
apologize to Steve she could not, for fear of pulling him into what was
happening. Whatever it was, people were dying, and how much of it had to do
with the information she had she was not sure. It was almost time for lunch.
She glanced over at Steve who had been watching her off and on for the better
part of the morning.

"I really think you should go to the cops."

Jenny looked at him with pleading eyes. "Promise me
you'll stay out of it?"

"You can't do this," he snapped while tossing the
pen on his desk sending it flying to the floor.

"I'll go to the authorities when the time is right."

"But when will that be?"

"Steve, I don't want to argue about this. I have
something to do right now."

Jenny did not wait for Steve to continue. She reached for her
purse, and then walked out of the office. She didn't know what she would find
at the library. Certainly the mountain range in Maryland had something to do
with what Delaney wanted to tell her. Jenny feared she would not figure it out
in time.

Once Jenny was down the hall she turned and glanced back at
the office door, almost changing her mind.

"Jenny!"

Jenny turned to see Diane from Personnel hurrying after her.
"Steve's in the office if you need something."

"Did that man find you?" she asked.

Jenny stared for a moment before she could ask. "What
man?"

"About nine-thirty this morning. He asked what floor you
worked on. He said he had business with you."

"What did he look like?" Jenny asked. Her heart sank
for a moment thinking about the man in the hospital room yesterday, the icy
blue eyes, and the snow-white hair.

"He looked like he was in his mid to late thirties,
prematurely gray, kind of cute," she smiled.

"Are you talking snow-white gray?" A cold chill
crept up her spine after saying the words.

"No, more salt-and-pepper gray." Diane shrugged her
shoulders. "About Steve's build." Diane walked off down the hall and
was about to disappear into an office. She turned back to Jenny. "Needed a
shave, but other than that, he was nice-looking."

The man was not someone Jenny knew. She tried remembering the
people who came into the office that morning, but no one fit that description.

Jenny ran down the four flights of stairs, looking back
occasionally to see if she was followed. As she walked out of the building she
glanced across the street. The stranger standing near the arch immediately
caught her attention. In that instant, she knew it was the man who was looking
for her earlier.