by Tami Kidd
“Okay, we know what we wanted to find out. Let’s get the hell out of here,” Mara said.
They drove back to Riverside in silence, each of them deep in thought. Mara wondered what she was doing. The authorities should handle this case. Nothing added up. What did the kidnappers want with the letter? Were they working alone or with someone else? How did they even know about the letter? Who wrote the letter? Did Thomas really have an affair? Too many questions boggled her mind, and it seemed impossible to find the answers.
Maybe I should let it go. Maybe I should have let it go in the very beginning.
Her cell phone rang. It was Lucia. She thought about letting it go to voicemail but decided to answer. “Hello?”
“Mara, where are you?” Lucia’s tone sounded urgent.
“I’m just getting back into town. Alex and I have been running some errands. What’s up?”
“I just heard on the news that—that Nathan Bradford was killed last night in a car accident.” A pause. “He was drinking and the reports said he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt. He hit a tree and was ejected from the car.”
A deafening silence muffled Lucia’s voice. The interior of the truck closed in on Mara.
“Are you there? Did you hear me?”
“Yes, I heard you,” Mara said as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “That’s terrible. I talked to him yesterday. I—I can’t believe it.” She couldn’t comprehend what this meant. Nathan was dead. Mara should be feeling something other than total numbness. Nathan had his faults like anyone else, but he was a good man. Why wasn’t she feeling pain and sorrow for the loss? What’s wrong with me?
“Luc, I have to go. Thanks for letting me know about Nathan. I’ll call you later—”
“Mara, are you all right?” Lucia asked.
“Yeah, sure, I’m fine. I have to go.” Mara ended the call, feeling terrible about cutting Lucia off. No choice—her confused state overwhelmed the coherent thoughts running through her mind. She wanted out of the truck. She wanted some fresh air. She couldn’t breathe.
“Please pull over,” Mara said as she pushed the button on the automatic window. The window began to slide down, and she felt the wind rush inside the cab. Sticking her head out like a dog, she took in several heaving breaths.
“What’s wrong? Are you going to be sick? What was that about Nathan?”
“Please…just…pull…over!”
Alex pulled off the road onto the shoulder.
Mara immediately opened the door and jumped out, ignoring Alex’s calls behind her. The cars and trucks racing by drowned out his voice. She dropped to her knees, brought her fists up to her head, and looked skyward. Mara screamed. She didn’t care who heard her. She screamed again.
Alex dropped in front of her and wrapped his arms around her so tight she could hardly breathe. He didn’t say anything, just held her tight. She began to cry. No, she began to sob—deep, tortuous, racking sobs. She wasn’t crying only for Nathan. She was crying for Thomas. Crying because of the letter. The kidnapping. And for herself. She felt so helpless. Confused. Angry. Scared. She wanted her life back. Everything spun out of control and she was powerless to stop it.
Alex held her until the sobs receded. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”
With her head on Alex’s shoulder, Mara nodded.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She shook her head.
“Do you want to go?”
She nodded.
Alex pulled her up. Holding her, he walked to the truck and helped her get inside. When he got in, she rested her head on his shoulders. Mara felt like someone had ripped her soul out of her body, tore it to shreds, and then tried to shove it back in.
Back at Matt’s house, she went into the bedroom and stretched out on the bed. Alex took off her shoes and then spread a light blanket over her. He had his hand on the doorknob when Mara said, “Don’t go. Stay here with me. Please.”
Alex eased down on the bed and stretched out beside her. He wrapped his strong arms around her. She could feel his chest rise and fall against her back, his legs tucked in next to hers. Mara felt warm and safe. She never wanted to leave this spot, only to stay in his arms forever. The security she felt with him, embraced her like a cocoon. If only she could feel this safe forever.
She allowed herself to relax and drift off into darkness. As long as Alex lay beside her, she didn’t fear the horrors of the dark.
****
As Alex lay next to Mara, his heart broke for her. Sweet and kind, she didn’t deserve this mayhem. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her forever. He knew he had already fallen in love with her, and he couldn’t help himself. She had touched a part of his soul that no woman ever touched before. If he only could wipe away her pain. Give her all the answers she sought, even at the cost of ending their time together. He knew it was crazy to feel the way he did and wondered if she was truly ready for a relationship, even though more than a year had passed by. No matter the time, he was willing to wait for the rest of his life if he had to.
****
When Mara woke, the room was completely dark and Alex no longer slept beside her. She got out of bed, threw on her robe, and went out into the hall. Fresh brewed coffee teased her senses. In the kitchen, she saw Alex sitting at the island. “Is there any more of that?” Mara asked, pointing at the cup of coffee in his hands.
“Sure, sit down and I’ll get you a cup.”
“No need. I can get it.” Mara found a cup and poured herself one. It smelled soothing.
“Did you sleep okay?”
“I suppose. I didn’t have any nightmares,” she said, sitting across from him.
“While you were asleep, Jerry called me about the fingerprints.” Alex looked directly into her eyes.
Mara didn’t have a good feeling. “What’d he say?”
“He said there were eight sets of identifiable prints on the letter.” Alex started counting names off his fingers one at a time: “Yours, mine, Thomas, Jack, Kay, Lucia, Nathan and…” He paused. “The last set belonged to—”
“Who?” Mara leaned forward.
“They belonged to someone name Jessica Foster.”
“Who the hell is Jessica Foster?”
Seventeen
Alex stared into his coffee cup and said, “Jerry didn’t know. That information wasn’t provided from the search. He said he’d have to run her name through another database to get more information. So, we’re going to have to wait till we hear more.”
“Okay, let me get this straight. If none of the prints belonged to Rebecca Kincaid, does that mean she didn’t write the letter?”
“That’s what it looks like,” Alex said.
“Then why did someone sign the initials R.K. at the end of the letter?”
“Good question.”
“This is getting more bizarre by the minute,” Mara said. A headache threatened, so she pinched the bridge of her nose in effort to stave it off.
Alex looked at her with compassion. “I know, but try not to get discouraged. We’ll figure it out.”
“Or die trying,” Mara said sarcastically.
Alex’s cell phone buzzed. He answered. As he spoke, his gaze fixed on Mara with a serious look.
Uh oh, more good news.
“Okay, Jerry. Listen, I really appreciate your help.” Alex paused for a second. “I will; count on it. Bye, bud.”
“Well?”
“Jerry is emailing me the information, but he said the photo ID of Jessica Foster matches Rebecca Kincaid’s.”
“So, they’re the same person?”
Taking another sip of his coffee, Alex said, “As soon as we get the background information from Jerry, we’ll run a search to see where Jessica Foster is now. Then we’ll pay her a little visit and find out about the letter. Maybe she will know why the thugs who kidnapped you were so interested in it.”
Mara sighed. “Let’s hope it’s that simple.”
Getting up from the table,
Alex said, “Come on. Let’s go see if the email has come through.”
Heading into Matt’s office and sitting in front of the computer, Alex booted up and logged into his email. “Got it.” He opened the email and read it aloud, “Jessica Renee Foster, born in Annapolis, Maryland, attended University of Maryland. She graduated Summa Cum Laude.”
Alex blew out an impressed whistle. “She must be some kind of genius or something. She started college at age sixteen, graduated at eighteen. She went on to get her master and doctorate in Archaeology by the time she was twenty-two years old.”
Confused, Mara asked, “How did she go from being Jessica Foster to Rebecca Kincaid? What was she doing working as an Environmental Protection Specialist with Thomas?”
“Don’t know, but we’re going to find out.”
“Go on, what else does it say?” Mara asked as she scooted closer to him.
“Let’s see…it says she worked for Oxford University on a special project at the ancient Mayan archaeological site in Cancuen, Guatemala. It doesn’t give any details of what the project entailed. Her last known address was 22 St. Mary’s Street, Oxfordshire, England.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Mara said. “Why would someone like that be living and working in Riverside on a boring civil service job?”
“No idea, but the next step is to see if we can find this lady and ask her some questions.”
Mara got up from the stool. “I’m going to get another cup of coffee. Want one?”
“Please, I think we’re going to be up all night.”
Alex worked into the wee hours of the morning without a break, even though Mara attempted to dissuade him from work for just a little while. She sat with him as much as she could, but she sometimes felt like she got in the way.
Around 2:00 a.m., Mara went to the guest bedroom and stretched out on the bed. For a long time, she stared up at the ceiling, at the way the moon cast shadows on it. She wondered if her life would ever be the same. What was going to become of her and Alex after the case was over? She wondered what they would discover about Thomas. How could it be possible to live with someone so long and not really know them?
She eventually fell asleep, but the images of the past few days played over and over in her dreams. Mara saw Alex and his adorable dimples smiling at her. She felt a chilling fear when the boss leaned in to whisper in her ear. She saw Thomas and Jessica laughing at her. Soon the images flashed through her mind at breakneck speed, like a movie on fast forward.
Mara jolted awake, sweat covering her face and body. She glanced at her watch. Five a.m. Stalking into the office, she found Alex stretched out on the couch. She gently pulled the door closed so she wouldn’t wake him.
Heading into the kitchen, she flipped on the light. She noticed her phone on the table. It indicated two missed calls, one from her editor, Carol Malco, and the other from Lucia. Mara felt guilty about leaving Lucia out of the loop, but she figured the less her friend knew the better.
Too early to call, she turned on the little TV, keeping the volume low, more for company than her desire to watch it. She tuned in to a popular early morning news program. She put on a pot of coffee and waited for it to brew.
A garbage truck trundled down the street. The world began to stir. People woke from their warm cocoons, making coffee, cooking breakfast, getting ready for another day. Some looked forward to the new day, while others dreaded it.
I miss my life. I want answers, I want closure, and I want to get on with my life.
Mara sat mindlessly, watching the news when she saw something on the screen that made her freeze—a man being followed by reporters and cameras. He held up his hand to hide his face. Mara recognized him right away as the man from the shack. The man she left to die. Chills coursed up and down her spine. She turned up the volume so she could hear the report.
“…Lawrence Gerard leaving the Sacramento County Court House yesterday after being arraigned for ethics violations during his term as Chairman of the California Special Security Task Force. The CSSTF’s primary purpose is to ensure the State of California is protected against terrorist attacks from domestic and foreign threats. Gerard is suspected of taking bribes from private security companies that have bid on open contracts. In previous interviews, Gerard denied all allegations, and said he is confident that all charges will be dropped and his good name will be cleared. From Sacramento, I’m Stephanie Lopez reporting.”
Mara turned the volume down and walked back to the office. She tiptoed inside and knelt beside him. She wasn’t sure if she should wake him or let him sleep, but she felt he needed to hear the latest news as soon as possible.
Nudging him gently, Mara said, “Alex. Get up. We need to talk.”
Alex’s body covered the length of the couch as he stretched. “Huh?”
“It’s important. I saw something on the news.”
“What?” He yawned.
“The guy from the shack.”
“He’s dead?”
“No, he’s alive and well, and I know who he is.”
Mara now had his attention. “What? Who is he?”
“His name is Lawrence Gerard. He’s the former Chairman of the California Special Security Task Force. He’s being brought up on ethics charges.”
“Imagine that!”
“Yeah, isn’t it wild that I would see his face on TV? What should we do now?”
“I can’t think till I get some coffee in me.”
“I’ve got some made in the kitchen. Come on.”
“Did I ever tell you that you’re wonderful?”
“No, I don’t believe you have.”
Alex stood up and stretched his arms toward the ceiling. His shirt rose above his waistline, providing Mara a peak of his tanned, lean abdomen. She almost felt guilty for looking…almost.
After downing a cup of coffee, Alex was almost awake. Mara sat there watching him, wondering what was going through his mind. They watched the recap of the news and the report on Lawrence Gerard.
“So, what do we do now?” Mara asked.
“Time for a road trip,” Alex said.
“A trip? Where?”
“I think we need to pay our friend Larry a visit in Sacramento.”
“What?” Mara shrieked. “You want to…what? Walk right up to him and say, ‘Ah, excuse me, we were wondering why you kidnapped this woman?’ Are you crazy? Are you trying to get us killed?”
“Relax,” Alex said as he patted her hand. “He’s not going to try anything.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Well, think about it. He’s obviously in the spotlight.” Alex pointed at the television. “He doesn’t need any more attention right now. He’s got more to worry about from us than we do of him. We’ll make it clear if he doesn’t answer our questions. Go to the police with proof that he kidnapped you. He’ll be too afraid it will ruin what’s left of his political career. He may be able to wheedle his way out of ethic charges, but kidnapping on top of that would bury him for good.”
“You seem to be forgetting one little thing: we don’t have proof that he kidnapped me.” Mara ran her hand through her hair.
Alex pointed his finger. “You know that, and I know that but he doesn’t. When we tell him that you took a candid shot of him with your cell phone while passed out on the floor, that will be proof enough to cause him a lot of worry.”
“Oh, I get it. We blackmail him. Tell him if he doesn’t give us what we want then it’s bye-bye political career and hello prison walls.”
“Exactly!” He pointed his finger at her again and winked.
****
The drive to Sacramento took a little over seven hours. Traffic flowed without a hitch. Mara and Alex relaxed and enjoyed each other’s company. They shared more about their lives. Alex spoke freely about his past. An only child, he had no brothers or sisters and no aunts or uncles to lean on. Mara’s heart broke for him. She wanted to move over and comfort him. Alex projected toughness and streng
th on the outside, but on the inside, he was gentle and compassionate. He told Mara for a long time after his mother’s death, he couldn’t talk about her. Just the mention of her name reopened old wounds.
Mara asked, “What’s it like to be a private investigator?”
“Don’t you know? he asked. “You write about it.”
“Yeah, but that’s fiction. I want to know a real detective’s perspective.”
“I love doing what I do. Most of the time. There are times when I have to do the shitty jobs, like follow someone’s husband or wife because they’re suspected of cheating. Those jobs make me feel kind of low rent. It’s like wallowing around in a mud puddle. When you’re done, you really want to go home and take a long, hot shower.”
Mara sat riveted to his every word, mesmerized by his voice. She didn’t want him to stop talking.
“Then there are jobs where I try to find a loved one who’s disappeared. Sometimes I locate adult adopted children or the parents who gave up their children for adoption.” Alex looked at her and smiled. He returned his attention to the road and said, “Those assignments are usually very rewarding. I feel like I am contributing something good. Putting a family back together again. I think I like those jobs the best.”
He paused as if considering whether to continue. “Not all jobs turn out good. I don’t always get a warm fuzzy when I close a case. I meet all kinds of people. I’m surprised I’m not cynical and mistrusting. In the beginning, I try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. Deep down, I believe most people want to be good. Some don’t know how. No one ever taught them. And they don’t stop to think about how their behavior affects others.”
It surprised Mara to hear that he felt this way, especially knowing how his father’s behavior affected him and his mother. Mara wondered if Alex’s father wanted to be good but didn’t know how. She could relate to what he said. What if she found out that Thomas cheated on her with Jessica Foster? Her opinion of him would change and doubted if she would ever be able to forgive him.
