Duty With Honor Book Five: An Unexpected Pause

by Jordan Bollinger

  Elizabeth felt herself blanch with shame. She jumped up, knocking her purse to the ground, and watched as its contents spewed out over the gravel path. She tried to speak, but no words came out.

  Meantime, Andrew set the flowers on the bench, and slowly and deliberately gathered her things up, and returning them to her purse. Beth sank against the back of the bench. She was ashamed of the things she'd said -- of how she'd acted.

  But, she didn't know how to make amends. She knew Andrew was hurt and angry. And, to be fair to him, he had every right to be. Just as he stretched beneath the bench to reach for something, Beth gave out an anguished, "Andrew..."

  He crammed the pen he'd picked up into her purse, before he faced her again, moved back in front of her, and squatted down. Then, he took her hand in both of his, and rubbed it before he spoke, "I know, Beth. I know. You didn't mean to accuse me. And, I didn't mean to react as I did -- to say what I did. We just need to step back and try again."

  She wanted to answer him -- to agree with him, but somehow the words wouldn't come out.

  "Now, I am not your master. I am not telling you what to do, but I do think you need to get out of this cold. If you'd like, I'll take you somewhere for a drink or something to eat. Or, I'll take you back to work. Or, I can just leave you alone. I'm not trying to annoy you. Beth, but, I do miss you and want you home."

  "I'm trying, Drew. I'm doing my best."

  He squeezed her hands and said, "I know you are, Sweetheart. And, I'm trying to leave you alone. But I love and miss you."

  Sobs caught in her throat, as Andrew continued, "I understand you're still kind of shell-shocked. And, that it's going to take some time for you to find your way, but, I love you. I miss you, and I want you back home, with me. I read the letter. I found it and read it. I..." He stopped, stood up, kissed her on her forehead and said, "I'm sorry. I'm intruding. You asked for some time and space, and I'm not giving that to you. But, please don't stay out in this cold much longer. I'm going back to work." He picked up the flowers and placed them on James' grave. Then he walked away, slowly.

  Elizabeth wanted to call him back. She wanted for him to hold her. She wanted to cry -- to let all the pent up pain and sorrow out.

  But, she stayed mute. Instead, she just watched him walk away.

  *****

  Andrew forced himself to walk away, even though he didn't want to. What he wanted to do was take Beth in his arms and hold her. He wanted to tell her all that he felt. But, he couldn't. He was supposed to be strong.

  There was some else bothering him. He really hadn't followed her. And, he certainly didn't think she was cheating on him with that man in the cemetery. The thing was, there was something about that man that made him feel uncomfortable. Drew had the distinct impression he wasn't what he purported himself to be.

  Telling himself he was just a bit paranoid, he returned to his office. But he didn't work. He just sat, staring at the empty half of the partner's desk, thinking about Beth.

  If only there was something he could do for her, say to her -- something that would ease her pain and bring her back to him.

  He was still mulling over Beth when Fitz came in and said, "Sir Anthony wants to see you immediately."

  "Why? What's up?"

  "I couldn't say. Even Bridget is being very closed-mouth."

  Frowning, he followed her from the office.

  *****

  Unknown Location,

  London, England, United Kingdom

  "Well, is she dead?"

  "No..."

  "Why not?"

  "I didn't have a chance, she wasn't alone. And, there's something else... I lost it. I went back and looked for it, but couldn't find it. Perhaps she picked it up."

  "This is not what I wanted to hear. You deal with her and retrieve what you've lost -- no matter where you've lost it -- and then carry on with the plan. I don't want to have to replace it or you. I don't even want to have to send you help."

  "Yes...all right."

  *****

  It was still cold the next day when Beth walked to the cemetery. But the wind was nowhere near as severe as it had been the day before. She went earlier that next afternoon.

  So, she was surprised her friend was already there. Not only that, he appeared to be waiting for her, because he held two large paper cups.

  "Hello. After yesterday, I thought I should take precautions, so I brought you a hot chocolate. Everyone likes their coffee and tea fixed differently. So, I decided this was the safest bet."

  Elizabeth took the cup that was offered to her, and said, "Thank you. Oh, that feels nice in my hands." But, she didn't drink anything right away.

  Her friend took another large gulp of his drink, and asked, "That man yesterday--"

  "My husband..." Beth answered.

  "He isn't angry with you, is he? I mean, he didn't think you...we...were up to anything?"

  "No," she reassured him. "Andrew's not like that. He doesn't quite understand why I'm staying at my brother's. I have a tiny apartment there -- so it's not as if I'm socializing with the family."

  Stop telling a stranger your personal business, she told herself. She carefully brought the cup to her lips. She felt the heat coming up from the cocoa, as she pretended to taste it. Then she smiled at her friend, and said, "Oh, that's good, but it's still very hot."

  Elizabeth sat on her end of the bench, but instead of the man sitting down on the far end, where he usually sat, he sat down beside her -- not touching her, but definitely close.

  The hairs on the back of her neck tingled. She looked at her friend intently, and he appeared harmless enough. But, something was off. She watched a bird fly over them, turning away as she followed it with her eyes, and while facing away from her friend, pretended to take another, bigger sip.

  When she turned back to face him, he seemed to be studying her. She flashed him one of her most winning smiles, stood up, and told him, "I'm sorry to have to leave, but I have a meeting at work. That's why I was ahead of my time today. But, thank you for the cocoa. I'll bring you some tomorrow."

  Then, before he could say or do anything, she moved away -- calmly and slowly -- but very steadily and at a good pace. She even remembered to continue pretending to sip on her drink.

  She watched the reflections in store windows to see if he was following her. As soon as she had cleared a corner, she deposited the cup in the first rubbish can she passed. And she breathed an audible sigh of relief as she entered Vauxhall Cross.

  Once she was upstairs, she avoided her little makeshift office. Instead, she went to the office she and Andrew shared, hoping Drew would be there. So, she was disappointed he wasn't.

  She sat down and tried to figure out what just happened. Why had she felt threatened by the man in the cemetery? She'd seen him a half a dozen times or more, and he'd never been anything but kind, courteous, and respectful.

  What was scary about him offering her a hot drink on a cold day? There were plenty of nice people in the world. People who did kind things for relative strangers -- just because they were nice.

  Had she become her father?

  No, she was cautious. It was better to throw away a perfectly untainted cup of hot chocolate then be drugged.

  But why did she even consider she was being drugged?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sir Anthony's Office

  Vauxhall Cross,

  London, England, United Kingdom

  "Please, don't do this, sir. I'm begging you. You know she would never do anything to compromise us."

  "We spoke about this yesterday, Andrew. I really have no control over it. The PM is on us. And not without reason. My God, not one, but two sociopathic murderer/rapists in high level positions. We're lucky we're not all on the dole."

  Andrew tried again, "But, sir, this is going to push her over the edge. Please."

  "I'm sorry. Try and remember she's my god-daughter. I know she doesn't need anything more on her plate right now, but the situat
ion needs to be addressed. Now, please, just go back to your office."

  Drew took this last for the dismissal it was, turned and left. However, he didn't go back to his office -- their office. Instead, he stormed from the building, got in his car, and roared off.

  *****

  "Elizabeth..." Sir Anthony began. Then, he stopped and cleared his throat. Beth saw he was unhappy, but she couldn't imagine what she might have done, so she just sat quietly and waited. "Elizabeth, we have a problem. Classified information has been passed from here.

  "And you are one of the very few people who has had access to it. I'm sorry, but you're suspended until further notice."

  "But..." Beth swallowed her tears, took a deep breath and continued, "Sir, I haven't done anything. You know I'd never...do...anything like this."

  "Elizabeth, I'm sorry. I have no choice about this. Please, Bridget will accompany you to retrieve your personal items, and then downstairs to the lobby."

  "But--"

  "Please Elizabeth. The alternative will be for security to escort you from the building. And I don't want to be forced to call them. She'll also need your ID badge, as well. I'm sorry."

  Stunned, Beth followed Bridget through to what she'd been using as her office. Once there, she handed Bridget her ID, picked up her purse and said, "You don't have to take me downstairs. I'll leave. I'm just not sure where I'm going to go." Then she exited the office, went down the hallway, and into a waiting elevator.

  *****

  Bridget knocked on Sir Anthony's door and then entered. She dropped the badge on his desk, frowned at him and said, "I know I'm speaking out of turn, Sir, but I agree with Andrew. This was too much."

  "Bridget, I know. I'm worried too. But, I didn't have any say in this. All we can do is try and figure out who is really passing information as quickly as possible. Then we can all go back to normal."

  Bridget went to leave, when Sir Anthony called to her, "Get Roger Emery on the phone for me. And then have Richard Emery come in. I might as well get it all over with and deal with them as well."

  Bridget scowled, but merely answered, "Yes, sir."

  *****

  Beth escaped from the house with all the cash she could find and was safely enclosed in the back of the cab she'd had wait for her. Once inside, she gave the driver Richard's address, but then had him park the cab in a lonely spot around the corner from the house. And once again, she asked him to wait.

  She watched until she was sure no one was in the main part of the house. Then she slipped in the front door and up the stairs as quietly as she could. She didn't want anyone to know she was home -- or what she was planning.

  Ten minutes later she left, the same way she'd come, rushed around the corner and jumped into her waiting cab.

  "St. Pancras International Station," she told the cabman. Then she slumped back in the seat and took her last looks at London.

  They hadn't traveled very far, when the hairs on her arms stood up. She got that hinky feeling that always warned her about something. She turned around and watched out the back window. They were in the center of London and literally surrounded by taxi cabs. But one, in particular, bothered her.

  "Don't go straight to the station. Drive around. Head for the Vauxhall Cross Bridge, before you take me to the station.

  "But, keep a watch out. I had a fight with my boyfriend, and I'm afraid he might try to follow me."

  "It will cost you, but I'll make sure we're not followed," the cabman promised her.

  They'd driven around for quite a while, when, stopped at a traffic signal, the driver turned and said, "There is one cab that's been behind us for a while, but it's not your boyfriend. It's a woman. Do you still want to drive around?"

  "No, I guess not," she conceded.

  She tried to relax -- at least a bit. After all, she still didn't have a plan worked out. But then, she had a long train ride to think about exactly what she was going to do.

  *****

  "I can't believe Sir Anthony would do such a thing, Father!"

  "Calm down, Richard. Please, I know how you feel. I feel the same, but right now we need to find Andrew and Elizabeth."

  "Why? Where's Drew?"

  "I don't know. When I spoke to Tony earlier, he told me he'd already talked to Andrew -- yesterday, in fact. He came in and pleaded with Tony again, first thing this morning. Then he left immediately after their talk, and he wasn't at home when I called."

  "Well, no one has a clue where Beth is. The last person to see her was Bridget -- when she watched her take the elevator to the lobby. And, that was hours ago."

  "We'll find them. I only hope that they're together." But, Sir Roger didn't believe they would.

  *****

  Just as Beth was making her way to her train, a commotion broke out from somewhere behind her in the main part of the terminal. She ignored it, found her train, boarded, and took a seat.

  She didn't have much luggage. All she had with her was her over-sized black purse, and a small tote bag -- and that had several notebooks and mechanical pencils, two or three books, a pile of candy bars and an atlas she'd bought at the concession stand.

  She set the tote on the seat across from her, thrust her purse on the window seat beside her, and put her feet up on the empty seat opposite. She tried to take up as much room as possible and hope the train wasn't filled. She had no desire for hours of small talk.

  She needed to formulate a plan. But, she decided, she'd wait until they were nearing the Chunnel for her to do her serious planning -- and hope it distracted her from the idea of being under all that water.

  It didn't really work. She hated the idea of even short tunnels -- careening through the Chunnel was torture. But, she did work out a tentative plan.

  She decided she'd fly from Paris to Montreal, using one of her fake IDs. Then, swap that one out in the privacy of a bathroom stall, and buy a ticket to Toronto. From Toronto, using another ID, she'd make her way to Niagara Falls.

  She'd be able to enter the US by merely walking across the Rainbow Bridge. Then she'd find a way to get to Buffalo. From there, using still another identity, she'd be able to get a bus to the New York Port Authority.

  If she got that far, she'd take a commuter train to Connecticut, and raid the Litchfield house. She was pretty sure she'd be able to scrape together enough cash together to return to New York City, and buy a used car.

  Her goal was to make it across country to San Diego. She was sure she would be able to talk to her folks -- get them to understand why she had run away -- if she could talk to them in person.

  At least, she hoped she could.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  "Jack," Andrew spoke into the phone, "have you found out anything? It's been three days. I'm sure she'll eventually head to San Diego, but I'm not sure when. Or even how."

  "Well, I don't know. One of the names you gave me did show up. But, Mary Jane Johnson is pretty common."

  "And..."

  "Well, one Mary Jane Johnson took a bus from Buffalo, New York to the Port Authority in New York City."

  "Yes..."

  "That's all I've got. I'll keep looking, but she could be anywhere. And, we don't even know if it is Beth."

  "Well, another one of my university girlfriends took a train from St. Pancras International by way of the Chunnel to Paris. But, I didn't recognize any names leaving Paris."

  "Andy, you think Beth is going to go to the Morgans in San Diego. Let's say this person that went to Paris is Liz...Where would she go then?"

  Andrew thought for a moment before saying, "I don't know -- Toronto, maybe. That would put her close to Buffalo, wouldn't it?"

  "Yeah, it would," Jack answered. "So, are we saying that Mary Jane Johnson is our girl?"

  "Let's go on that assumption."

  "Okay, I'll start going over anything leaving New York City. But, that's a ton of options. And, she might not even take public transportation."

  "You know, Jack. There's something in that.
She likes driving, and that would allow her to travel without leaving a trail."

  "She'll need money, Andy. If she's not using credit cards, she's going to need cash -- a lot of cash. And she's already spent quite a bit to get as far as Canada."

  "Yes...well, she took the cash in the study, and the cash I had stashed in the business bag. And, she probably had some money of her own put aside. Richard's told me she always has a little mad money tucked away. So, she might have ten thousand dollars."

  "Yes, but she had to spend money to get to NYC. And she needs to sleep somewhere and eat."

  "And, probably buy some clothes -- nothing fancy, but something. She didn't take anything from here or Richard's. Just walked out with her purse and the clothes on her back..." Andrew's voice trailed off.

  "Maybe we're completely wrong," Jack threw out. "What if she went to Boston? After all, she worked there for a long time. And, in a pretty rough neighborhood, from things she's said. What if she's hiding out there?"

  "No..."

  "No? But, she said--"

  "No, that wasn't what I was saying no about. I was thinking about her needing clothes."

  "Yeah?"

  "What if she went to the Litchfield house?"

  "Have you talked to Helen?"

  "Only to tell her to have Beth call me if she showed up. Bloody hell!"

  "What?"

  "There's more cash in the back of the desk drawer in the study -- that I know about. I believe she has some jewelry -- things she doesn't wear. But they could be pawned for more cash. And again, she could have money I don't know about tucked away."

  "Look, Andy, there's a million different scenarios we could construct. Let's just see if I can find out anything more about Mary Jane Johnson. Meantime, you call Helen and John and see if the money, or anything else is missing."