MORE THAN THE MOON

by A Rosendale

  Cooper silently observed his father from his side, glancing uncertainly between the vague gravestones nearly buried in the turf, the stranger standing silently by his parents, and his dad’s solemn expression. He focused on adopting the same countenance.

  The three adults stood silently for a long while.

  “The Company lost two good agents this week,” Vasquez broke the silence in a quiet voice.

  Dirk responded by deepening his frown.

  Alma sighed sadly. “Christian was a good friend.”

  Cooper noted his father’s intense grip and wondered at the cause. His mom’s melancholy tone caused further concern.

  The stranger turned to face Dirk. “You served admirably, Travers.”

  Dirk nodded stiffly.

  Vasquez clapped him on the shoulder. “You deserve some peace.” Then he disappeared among the pines.

  Alma claimed Dirk’s free hand and squeezed it tight.

  * * *

  Alma was relieved at the enthusiasm with which Dirk explained the Battle of Bunker Hill. His hand enveloped Cooper’s and the boy’s eyes were wide as he looked around the monument and listened to his father’s deep voice.

  “And America won even though all those people died?” His voice was filled with awe that made Alma smile.

  ‘Truly his father’s son,’ she thought.

  Dirk beamed. They’d spent the afternoon crossing Boston to show Cooper the sights while they were in town. His interest had managed to curb the depression pressing on Dirk.

  Although their son was blissfully oblivious, Alma read Dirk’s emotions all too clearly. He was bright and energetic while talking history with Cooper, but in moments of silence, she saw grief crease the corners of his eyes and his irises would cloud with anger.

  Late in the afternoon, the family piled into a taxi to cross the city back to the hotel. Cooper begged for a window seat in the back to gawk silently at the city in which he’d been born but retained no memory of. Dirk sat in the middle seat. Without Cooper’s bubbling diatribe to distract him, his mind darkened with depression. A squeeze on his knee brought his attention to Alma, who was offering a sympathetic smile. He found it in him to return a halfhearted smile and take her hand.

  * * *

  After Cooper was asleep in his own room of the hotel suite, Alma gently closed the door. She found Dirk in the kitchenette with a plastic cup of whiskey in hand. She’d noticed the amber liquid had made a prominent reentry to Dirk’s evening habits. He never drank it with Cooper around, but after the boy was in bed, he’d put away a couple glasses each night.

  He offered the glass, but Alma shook her head in polite declination. Without a word, they stepped onto the balcony and sat in woven chairs. The lights of Boston were spread before them. The summer night was humid and hot.

  “I miss Boston.” Dirk’s voice broke a forty-minute long silence. The words were so quiet Alma questioned their existence until he went on. “I guess I don’t miss the city so much as the nostalgia of things that happened while we lived here.”

  She smiled gently. “I understand.” She knew he was thinking primarily of Christian. She’d thought a lot about the man in the past two weeks. She recalled the day she’d met him in Dirk’s apartment, the fear shining in his eyes and blood smeared across his face. He had done so much for them since then. He’d helped Alma through many a nail-biting night, either waiting for Dirk to come home or treating his wounds when he did. She would miss him dearly. “I’ll miss Christian,” she said in the dark and watched for Dirk’s reaction.

  His jaw flexed. One hand clenched into a white knuckled fist while the other lifted the whiskey to his lips for a long draw. He’d yet to talk about what had happened and Alma was beginning to wonder if he ever would.

  “This…” He looked at his hands in disgust. “This one’s going to take me some time, Alma.”

  She nodded in solemn understanding.

  He rose without another word and limped back to the kitchenette. When he returned to the balcony, more whiskey sloshed in the cup.

  Alma waited for him to settle back in the chair before scooting closer and taking his free hand. He entwined his fingers with hers. The contact caused depression to ebb a bit. She’d always had that calming effect on him.

  “What will you do now that you’re retired?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll be a stay-at-home dad.”

  Alma laughed lightly. “Yeah, right! You’ll make yourself crazy!”

  Dirk smiled reluctantly. “You’re right. Maybe I’ll actually use my technology degree.”

  “NOAA is looking for a computer programmer.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. The position opened last month.”

  “You sure you want to work with your husband?”

  She squeezed his hand. “I’ll be your superior, so it can’t be too bad.”

  That succeeded in finally drawing a chuckle from him. “Okay. I’ll apply when we get home, boss.”

  “I like the ring of that!” she joked.

  * * *

  The whiskey finally lulled Dirk to sleep after nearly two weeks of restless, sleepless nights. Alma dozed off to his steady breathing only to be woken abruptly by unintelligible shouts. Dirk was battling with the bedclothes, wrenching them this way and that.

  She hurried to flip on a bedside lamp.

  “I’ll kill you, you son of a-” he was grumbling when she grabbed his shoulder in an iron grip.

  “Dirk!”

  He came awake violently batting the air. When he realized where he was and who was staring at him, he blushed and covered his sweaty face. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

  “It’s okay.” She offered him a tentative smile. “This isn’t the first nightmare I’ve weathered with you.”

  Her words in such times usually brought comfort, but this time only caused him to feel embarrassed and regretful. “I know. I’m sorry.” A heavy sigh made him drop his hands to his lap. He glanced distractedly at the brace wrapped around his injured knee. “Alma, I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through. God knows it hasn’t been easy on you. I’ve dragged you through a hell of life.” He finally met her eye and let out a laugh that was more harrumph than humor. “And you haven’t flinched. You deserved so much better.”

  Alma smiled sincerely and scooted up next to him. “I wouldn’t change a moment of our lives together, Dirk. You’ve sacrificed so much for your country and your career. I’m so proud of you.” She took his hand and turned it over to caress the dull pink scar crossing his palm. Then she lifted his fingers to her lips and kissed the rough skin.

  The gesture eased him more than any amount of liquor ever could. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Alma.”

  She smiled and curled against him, her head on his bare chest while he draped an arm around her.

  “I love you more than the moon,” he whispered.

  He could feel Alma’s smile against his skin. “I love you more than the sea.”

  Chapter 47

  The District Attorney frowned. “I’m sorry, Mr. Travers, but without your previous credentials, this report isn’t going to hold as much sway with the judge.”

  Dirk nodded in understanding. “But it will at least serve as a reminder, right?”

  He nodded solemnly. “As if anyone needs any reminders of what the asshole was planning to do,” he grumbled.

  Dirk agreed and stood to straighten his jacket and tie.

  “I have to tell you, Mr. Travers.”

  He paused and turned back to the desk. DA Cameron’s tone instilled a note of doubt that made Dirk uncomfortable.

  “I’ll be surprised if we can hold off Johnson much longer,” Cameron said regretfully.

  Dirk set his jaw, gave a curt nod, and left the office with a leather satchel over his shoulder.

  He was startled to find an unfamiliar judge behind the bench. Unease gathered in his chest and he found a seat in the crowded courtroom. Five years ago, h
e’d sat in the back corner. Now he chose a seat ten rows behind the defense table in hopes that Johnson would overlook his presence. While he waited for the proceedings to begin, he took out a weathered black, hardbound notebook and continued several years’ worth of notes. Alma had caught his scribblings last week.

  “You write like you’re running out of time,” she’d teased in reference to one of his favorite musicals.

  He’d laughed it off, but admitted to himself that he felt a definite urgency when it came to these notes. He hoped they’d all be for naught in the end, but an uncomfortable knot in his stomach suggested otherwise.

  “All rise for Judge Ripley,” an officer of the court announced.

  This hearing was significantly shorter than the previous ones. Dirk let out a breath of relief when Ripley declared, “At this time, the defendant will remain in prison with eighty-four years remaining in the sentence, but with the opportunity to appeal again in five years’ time.” The gavel knocked once and the judge retreated.

  As the courtroom filled with activity, Dirk remained where he was, staring hard at the back of Eric Johnson’s head. True to habit, the man turned to survey the gathered observers. He glared briefly at someone across the room, then swiftly turned his gaze to Dirk. Where the past three times they’d met, the man had scowled vengefully, today his lips lifted in the slightest of smiles. His eyes remained cold giving the impression that Johnson knew something Dirk did not.

  Dirk held his gaze, his sea-green eyes as cold as coastal Oregon waters.

  * * *

  “Fancy seein’ you here,” a familiar voice said.

  Dirk turned in the marble hallway to greet FBI Agent Wyatt Ramsey. They shook hands and Wyatt motioned back to the courtroom.

  “That seemed like a closer call than normal, eh?”

  “Yeah,” Dirk grumbled.

  “Makes me uncomfortable, too,” Ramsey replied.

  “What happened to Judge Flynn?”

  Ramsey sighed and shook his head. “Died of a stroke last year. A pity. He would stand strong against Johnson’s efforts.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to go. Good to see you, Dirk!”

  “Hey,” Dirk said before he could disappear in the crowd.

  “Yeah?”

  “You offered to help my family if they ever needed it. Does that offer still stand?”

  “Of course! Always! Look, I’ve got to get to the office. Give me a call next time you’re in town.” He slapped Dirk on the shoulder and hurried away.

  * * *

  “How’d it go?” Alma asked on the phone that night.

  Dirk hesitated. He hated to scare her, but if things got out of hand, she needed to know. “Not well. I don’t think the sentence will hold him much longer. There was a new judge today. He doesn’t seem to hold the same fortitude Flynn did.”

  Alma accepted the news silently.

  “I’ll be home tomorrow. Kiss Cooper for me.”

  When he hung up, he considered what to do now. A number of his favorite landmarks and restaurants lay within easy walking distance of the hotel. But the weight of impending danger kept him inside, writing desperately in hopes of keeping his family safe.

  III

  Part Three

  Chapter 48

  “Dad!” Cooper bolted down the school steps and across the lawn where Dirk swept him up in his arms.

  Mrs. Hathaway smiled. She loved seeing fathers taking a real interest in their children. Besides that, she didn’t mind seeing Mr. Travers on a regular basis. ‘Dr. Decker married well,’ she thought. Her attractive husband was brilliant and a good father. He came to all the school events and even volunteered at the hellish classroom parties.

  Dirk waved to break the teacher’s stare. Alma teased him about the attention Cooper’s teachers and other mothers lavished on him. He always laughed it off. He’d made a career of staying out of the limelight. Even though he was a civilian now, it made him uncomfortable.

  Mrs. Hathaway blushed, suddenly aware of her gawking, and retreated into the school.

  “What are we doing today?” Cooper asked. He gripped Dirk’s hand as they walked down the sidewalk and around the corner.

  “You’ll see.” He watched the boy’s face as the Jeep came into view.

  “Kayaking! Yay! Is Mom coming?”

  “She said she’d meet us there.”

  In the years since retiring, Dirk had found a nine-to-five technology job boring. Months after Christian’s death, he’d still been depressed. So he threw himself wholeheartedly into fatherhood. He and Cooper had started by playing catch after school every day. Now Cooper played on a Little League team. But the monotony still grated on Dirk’s nerves. He bought Cooper first a bike, then a kayak of his own and he and Alma started teaching him the sport. Now it was a family hobby, one they pursued as often as possible.

  When Alma parked next to the Jeep, she could spot two tiny specks in the cove below. Eager to join them and put an aggravating week behind her, she grabbed her kayak from the roof rack and hurried to the beach. The physical exertion eased mental turmoil and she was smiling by the time she reached Dirk and Cooper.

  “Hi, Mom!” Cooper greeted, paddling closer to her.

  “Hey, Coop. How was school?”

  “Good! Dad’s going to come to field day next week!”

  Dirk smiled and splashed a paddle full of saltwater at his son.

  Cooper squealed and paddled away.

  Dirk steered his kayak up next to Alma and carefully leaned out to kiss her. “How was work? You were pretty busy when I left.”

  Sometimes Alma forgot Dirk worked in her building. She saw so little of him during the day it was like he was still gallivanting around the world. But she was afforded the opportunity to see him every single night. His retirement had been good for their family. Cooper resembled him more every day, in both appearance and character.

  “I sometimes wish I hadn’t taken that raise last year. I haven’t been on a research vessel in months! In fact, kayaking with you is the only time I’m even on the water!” She sighed and dipped a paddle to maintain eye contact with him. She noted lightly that his eyes matched the exact hue of the water surrounding them. The idea sparked a gentle smile. “It doesn’t matter now, though. I’m with you two.”

  Dirk grinned, then lopped seawater into her kayak too.

  “You-”

  “Hmm. Watch your language, Dr. Decker. Your son is right there,” he teased and paddled quickly away.

  “Cooper, we need to join forces!” Alma called and the two of them chased after Dirk, laughing and splashing water in his wake.

  Chapter 49

  Ava came awake to Pan’s sudden barking.

  “Pan!” she groaned. This was the tenth night in a row he’d woken her in the middle of the night. The first few had been frightening and she turned on all the lights in the house. Even now, four years after William’s death, she felt uncomfortable in an empty house. Pan’s unrest only made her more jumpy.

  “Pan, go to bed!” she ordered, reluctant to rise for yet another pointless romp around the house. She was even starting to consider that something was wrong with the old dog. Maybe he was having hallucinations in response to brain cancer or some other malady.

  When he started tugging at the blankets, Ava finally conceded and climbed from bed. She turned on the lamp in order to find her bathrobe and slippers before following the lab downstairs, where he continued to bark at the front door.

  “This is ludicrous!” she told him, unlocking the deadbolt and flipping on the lights. When she opened the door, nothing was there. Pan started growling, then nudged past her and ran into the dark night.

  “Pan!” she shouted. “Pan, come here!” As she started after him, she saw a dark shadow cross the yard. Suddenly terrified, she backed into the house. “Pan!” A strangled yelp sounded in the distance. A shadow flickered closer to the house and Ava retreated, slamming the door and throwing the lock.

  * * *

  �
��Dirk?”

  “Ava! How are you?” Dirk hosted a weekly phone conversation with his mother-in-law. They’d always been close, but without William, Dirk made an extra effort to ease her loneliness. He knew Alma called on Mondays and Cooper on Saturdays, so he usually called on Thursdays. Today was Wednesday.

  “Dirk, I hate to bother, but…”

  “Go on,” he urged. Her tone was concerning. It was a mixture of grief and terror.

  “Pan…he…” She sniffled and cleared her throat. “Let me start at the beginning. Two weeks ago, Pan started barking in the middle of the night. The first few times, I got up and turned on the lights. We made a lap of the house and everything seemed in order. After about ten minutes, he’d calm down and we’d go back to bed; not that I slept much after that. He continued to get riled up in the middle of the night, but I stopped paying him much heed. He’d settle down after a bit and go back to sleep. Last night…”

  He heard her blow her nose.

  “Last night he wouldn’t calm down. We went down and I opened the front door to see if anything was out there. You know, maybe a bear or something. He ran outside and…”

  “He didn’t come home?” Dirk guessed.

  “Yeah. He’s still gone,” she cried. “We’ve been through so much, that stupid dog and I!”

  “I know, I know. I’m so sorry. He was the best!” Dirk’s heart wrenched at the thought of Friday Harbor without the old dog.

  Ava struggled to gather herself. “After he ran away, I saw…something. Like a shadow or something crossed the yard. I’m…I’m scared, Dirk.”

  “I’m on my way. I’ll be there tonight.” He hung up and left his office to find Alma. She was hammering away at yet another report. He was surprised her glare didn’t burn a hole in her glasses.

  “Hey,” he greeted gently.

  The scowl disappeared instantly and she smiled at him. “Hey.”

  “I just got a call from your mom. She’s pretty upset. I think something happened to Pan. I’m going to fly up there this afternoon.”