by Megan McCoy
It started to pour, so I quickly flipped up my hood and moved back inside to rejoin the tour. The causeway was to be our meeting place, I glanced at my watch, half an hour ago. I frowned, wondering what was keeping him. Maybe there were canceled flights because of the weather or because it was Christmas?
When I texted him, the message came: number not in service. A sense of panic began building inside of me. I scanned through my texts; it was his number and his name; he’d entered it before I got in the cab and drove away.
Something has happened; I texted Heather.
Me: I need Josh’s number.
Heather: Why?
Me: I was supposed to meet Cam almost forty-five minutes ago. He isn’t here, and when I try his number, it says out of service.
Heather sent me Josh’s number.
I quickly sent him a text.
Me: Hey, it’s Cora. I’m trying to get a hold of Cam; what’s his number?
Josh sends the same number I had.
Me: It says not in service. Can you see if there is a new one? I’m worried.
Ten minutes go by, then finally, a response.
Josh: Sorry, Cora, Cam is gone.
Me: Gone?
Josh: Yeah, he never made it home; no one knows where he is. If I hear anything, I will let you know.
I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. Gone? What? I followed the tour out of Tintagel Castle and onto the bus. The wind whipped up, and the rain came down in sheets. Good, the rain helped to hide the tears that poured down my face. Gone.
Chapter 2
Cam
My week of frivolous good times before getting stuck in a serious job that would take me all over the world ended too soon. The single night in England was an impromptu decision to join Josh when I found out my commercial flight to D.C. was delayed due to bad weather conditions.
After putting Cora in a cab, my phone beeped. There was a message for me to immediately fly to D.C. on a military flight; a case had come up that required my brand of expertise. I thought I could assess the situation and come back, meeting her on Christmas day as promised.
Twenty-four hours later, I was deep in the heart of Iranian intelligence and locked in my mission. I was under strict instructions to carry nothing personal on the trip; nothing that could prove who I was working for, should I be taken prisoner.
I thought a few weeks would pass, and then I could fly to Boston and surprise Cora. After one night with Cora, I’d decided that she was the one I wanted to marry. But I was never able to follow through. It was almost two years later when I flew to Boston University, with an engagement ring in my pocket.
The number I had for Cora was no longer in service. I didn’t even know her last name, so with no other way to find her, I contacted my cousin, Josh, to get Heather’s address on campus. I received back only her name, Heather Holford. Nothing else came from my cousin, which was odd.
I looked up Heather and found her apartment, but not her. When I knocked on the door, a little brunette opened it, and when I inquired about Cora, she had no idea who she was. Heather had already left campus and gone home for the holidays.
I looked up Heather Holford on my government-issued phone as I climbed into the backseat of the vehicle.
“Hello,” a sing-song voice answered.
“Heather?”
“Yes, this is she. Who is this?”
“Heather, this is Cam, I’m not sure if you remember me, but I am Josh’s cousin.”
Dead silence, what the hell was going on?
“What do you want,” she asked, her light sing-song voice replaced by a hard, cold one.
“I was in Boston this morning, trying to find Cora. Some other girl answered the door at your apartment, and she’s never heard of Cora. What’s going on? Why isn’t she at school with you?”
“Seriously, Cam, where have you been, on Mars? Cora finished her second term but was doing so poorly, she lost her scholarship and the baby, she left almost a year ago, and I haven’t heard from her since. We all thought you were dead.”
It was my turn for silence. Cora got pregnant. Dead? What the hell, why didn’t I know? Why didn’t Josh tell me?
“Where is she, Heather? I don’t even know her last name or how to find her.”
Heather let out a laugh, but there was no humor in it.
“Seriously, Cam. When Cora’s parents found out she was pregnant and had lost her scholarship, they disowned her. She was so upset. Josh said you were gone, missing, M.I.A. If all you wanted was a roll in the hay, why not pick someone experienced? Why ruin Cora’s life? Where the hell have you been?”
I hung up the phone sinking back into the expensive leather upholstery. I put my face in my hands and cried. For Cora, for the baby, for how badly I had messed this up. How could this have happened?
I thought back to the first time I touched her. I’d felt flames lick up my arm and right into my heart. She was the one, the one I hadn’t been looking for, the one I never knew existed, yet there she’d been, in a pub in northern England.
When I spotted her from across the room, my eyes roamed over her. Even through her winter coat, I knew she had a beautiful body. A questioning look was in her big gorgeous sapphire eyes. I couldn’t help myself; I needed to know her, touch her, take her, and make her mine.
Later, long after our third time making love, we’d talked about our plans; our future. We’d parted with the promise to meet at Christmas, yet here I was almost two years too late. I never shared with Cora that I’d been drafted right out of military school by a Homeland Security division.
I was brought out of my memories by the sudden stop of the car. I pulled myself together as I hopped out and made one more call, this time to Josh.
“Hey cuz, what’s up?” he answered.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” My voice came out hard and flat, just like in the interrogations I specialized in, no inflection of humanity in my tone whatsoever.
There was silence on the other end of the phone, then Josh said. “Look, man, I didn’t know where you were. My parents told me that you had disappeared, and by the time we found out the truth, Cora had lost the baby and had moved on. Why would I tell her you weren’t dead? That you forgot about her for two years, like that was better? I didn’t think it was my place; I don’t even know Cora, I only know of her because she is friends with Heather.”
Another silence followed.
“Where were you?” He turned the tables, asking me the one question I could not answer for him, Cora, or anyone else. My missions were top secret; if I told anyone where I’d been or what I had been doing, I would be placing them in great danger.
“I can’t answer that, Josh.”
“Can’t or won’t? Want my advice, bro? Leave her be. It was hard; Heather said she was a mess for a long time. Just forget her and move on, as she did.” He hung up the phone, and I walked into the building.
The moment the door closed behind me I did what Josh suggested. Burying my time with Cora, and the pain of losing her. Letting go of the dream that she would be my wife. It was a fantasy, nothing more.
For seven long years and countless missions, I bought into my story and kept her buried, my feelings for her locked away. Until today. I had come out of the anonymous government building in D.C. when a headline at one of the newsstands caught my attention. Children of the Mist by Cora Reed. What? Could it be my Cora?
The article was about missing children of Iranian descent in California, particularly southern California, the largest Iranian population outside Iran. The report, originally written for the L.A. Times was reprinted in the Washington Post.
I looked her up on my phone; the photo confirming she was the woman I yearned for. She was in Wikipedia, for Christ’s sakes! Cora Reed, a graduate of American Journalism. In Washington; she was here, and I’d never known; maybe it was for the best. Just seeing her name brought up all kinds of need in me that I preferred to keep buried.
I continued to read: After a tumult
uous start, Cora Reed received her B.A. from the University of American Journalism and has gone on to become a human’s right advocate. Her work on missing children has been gaining momentum, and as a result, she has been able to orchestrate support for the families of missing children. In her article, Children of the Mist, Cora debunks statements denying American involvement; stating that an insider has shared secret documents with her, and she can prove the American involvement of these missing children.
I gripped my phone. Cora was going to get herself killed. Whoever was feeding her intel, was stringing her along. I smelled a set up a mile away. I investigated her personal life; no one significant was in her life. She had briefly dated, but no fiancée and no husband. After all this time, I don’t know why that news made me so happy, but it did.
I stood there, in front of the newspaper stand, looking up everything on Cora Reed. How had I missed this? She had recreated herself and finally accomplished what had been taken from her all those years ago. She was a champion and was even more attractive to me than before, if that was possible. I read everything written about her that I could find.
I caught up on her life through the eyes of the media. At some point, I had dropped down onto a bench, oblivious of the busy world around me. When I had finally exhausted all I could find, three hours had passed. Whatever mission I had been about to begin no longer mattered. I had a new task, reclaiming Cora Reed and the life we should have had.
Even if she wouldn’t accept me, I could at least keep her safe. She was stomping around in some sensitive territory, and if Homeland Security didn’t have her on their radar yet, they would soon. No way in hell I was going to let her disappear from my life again. I stalked back into the building and put in my resignation, effective immediately.
Chapter 3
Cora
I had been stuck in memories when I received a call from Heather.
“Cora, it’s Heather.”
“Heather, wow, it’s been years. How are you?”
“I’m good, terrific actually. I’m calling for two reasons.”
“Okay,” I laughed. “But only two,” I teased.
She laughed on the other end. “I miss you. That is one reason for my call. The second is I’m, uh, getting married and, I want you to be my maid of honor.”
“Wow, Heather, that is fantastic news, and about time that Henry put a ring on your finger.”
Heather chuckled. “Oh my God, Cora, you’re so out of the loop. I haven’t dated Henry for over a year. No, I’m marrying someone else. Remember Josh? I think you met him at one of my parties.”
My heart stopped; the last time I saw Josh was the night I met Cam. “Yes, of course.” I schooled my voice so as not to show my sadness. She was marrying Josh, and if I went to the wedding, all I would think about was Cam.
“Well, yeah, so we’re, um, getting married.”
“That’s wonderful news.” I worked to control the waver in my tone, hoping she didn’t notice. Being an investigative reporter had benefits, and one of them was learning to hide who you were and your feelings.
“Where and when?” I asked, priding myself on my control.
“England, um, on Christmas day.”
I said nothing, my heart palpitating so badly I thought I might have a heart attack.
“Please, I know it sounds terrible, but you have to come. It’s going to be very small and private, but I need you, Cora. Despite all the time since we last saw each other, you are still my best friend. I always envisioned you being my maid of honor. Please say you will be there?”
I was having an out of body experience; just the thought of going back had me panicking. “Let me guess, is the ceremony at Tintagel Castle?” I was totally joking, but when she uttered, “Yes,” I almost fell off my chair.
“Hello! Cora! Are you still there?”
When I responded, I was back in control, well at least my voice was. “Yes, I’m here.”
“Please, Cora, please say yes.”
I wavered back and forth, and then she said something that forced my hand.
“We could go up to the ramparts together and say goodbye for good, then maybe you can finally move on and find that dream guy.”
She was right. I’d told myself I’d moved on, but in truth, I still mourned the loss of Cam. I’d dated a few times and had a few short-term boyfriends, but nothing compared to what we had shared that one night in England.
“You’re right, Heather, I have to let him go. Who knows, maybe this time I’ll get lucky and find one that won’t die on me.”
She gave me the information, and I hung up the phone. Great, the wedding would take place at Tintagel Castle on Christmas day, three p.m. That would be sunset, assuming the sun made an appearance that day.
Chapter 4
Cam
My boss lifted his eyes in total shock when he read my resignation letter. “Cam, I know this is a tough job, but you are one of the best. I would hate to lose you.”
“Thanks, Roger, but in the ten years I have been here, I have never taken time off, never had a holiday. It’s time; time to get my life back. I will be available as a consultant should my specialty be required, but I am now my own man. I no longer belong to the U.S. government.”
He sighed in understanding and stood. I reached out my hand to shake his; instead, he pulled me in for an embrace. My brows rose in shock, but I hugged him back. He had never been a friend, but he had been someone I could trust, and how many of those types of people do any of us have in our lives? Not many.
I cleared out my office and walked out of the anonymous building for what I hoped would be the last time. Waving away the car I would no longer need, I walked down to the train. As the doors closed, I felt like a colossal chapter had as well.
I was no longer Cam Moore, secret ops for Homeland Security. I was Cam Moore, a man with a new mission, a man dedicated to preserving the life of one Cora Reed.
When I reached home, I called Heather Holford. I knew it had been eight years, but I also knew she would remember me. For my plan to work, I needed her help, and there was no way that I would accept a negative response.
Chapter 5
Cora
It’s Christmas Eve day, and I’m on a tour bus on my way to Tintagel Castle. I’d given myself a stern talking to about waiting until the wedding the next day.
Heather was delayed flying in and wouldn’t arrive until late tonight. She had promised to come with me early while the caterers were setting up. She said she wanted to be there for moral support to help me say goodbye. But, this was her wedding, and the last thing I wanted her to do on her wedding day is get stuck up on a crumbling parapet with an old friend, morosely saying goodbye to her lover from a decade ago. So I was saying my goodbye a day early.
Even saying it to myself sounded ridiculous. When the tour bus arrived at the site, the weather turned and became uncannily like the last time I was here, ten years ago. I guess that is not unusual, considering it is the winter season.
The castle stood like a dark, brooding giant painted black by the grey backdrop, reminding me of an Alfred Hitchcock movie I once saw. In the film, sheets of rain poured from the sky, and lightning bolts lit up the crags beyond the spooky castle.
Almost as if I called it to be, it started to sprinkle, and the tourists all made their way quickly inside the castle. There weren’t many of us, like the last time, people had better things to do than go on a tour at Christmas.
I followed the tour up the stairs and then followed a dank hallway to the parapet. I stepped out, just like last time. Only now, there was no spring in my step, no light in my heart. He was gone, but I hadn’t known that then.
No, then I was filled with youthful exuberance and thought I’d found the one. All the waiting for the perfect man had paid off. In retrospect, I should have filled my young life with lots of sexual experiences with many different men. My standards would’ve been lower. Dating after having been with Cam was a joke. No one had woken m
e up inside as he had. No one had ever taken me the way he did.
I made my way to the center of the parapet and leaned over the edge, enjoying this singular moment. The only thing that could have made it better was being in costume with a battle raging around me. I would be a damsel in distress. I imagined myself cornered on the causeway, trapped on either end by villainous knights wanting to make me their prisoner. When suddenly, one would fall forward, dead, before hitting the stone. Looking up, I would see my rescuer, a handsome rogue; he would whisk me away to safety, and then my life would begin again.
The light rain began to fall, mixing with the sea mist covering my face and clothing, making everything slick. I lifted my face to the sky and asked why. Why had Cam been taken from me? Why had his young life ended so early?
The tears began, but before I could completely immerse myself in misery, a bolt of lightning split the sky, and the causeway seemed to shake. I turned to flee back to the safety of the castle, when a chunk of the causeway gave way beneath me.
My foot fell through a narrow opening and got stuck. Terror shot through me; this couldn’t be happening. I called for help, but with the thunder rumbling and the tour in some other part of the massive structure, who was going to hear me?
I grabbed the side of the wall and pulled with all my might. Finally, my foot gave way with a painful pop, throwing me against and then over the low parapet wall. I was hanging onto a slippery wet stone and knew it was only a matter of time before I couldn’t hold on any longer. I needed to stay focused and try to stay alive, but my mind strayed back in time to him, to Cam.
My left hand slid off the moist rock face of the crumbling parapet. I was seconds away from falling to my death. I said my peace just as my fingers on my right hand lost connection with the hard rock beneath them.
