by Dan Walsh
Unintended Consequences
Jack Turner Suspense Series - Book 3
Dan Walsh
Bainbridge Press
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
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Acknowledgments
About the Author
Book Details
1
Jack got in the car and handed Rachel an ice cream cone. “I wonder when I’ll get used to it.”
“Get used to what? And what’s this? I didn’t ask for an ice cream cone.”
He closed the door. They were driving through the charming little seaside town of Chatham on Cape Cod, Massachusetts. “I know you didn’t ask for one, but you’re getting one anyway. I couldn’t believe it. The owner of the little shop still remembers me.” Jack had come here so many times over the years visiting his grandparents. Unless it was the dead of winter, he’d always stop in to get an ice cream cone. “The man looked out the window then asked why I wasn’t getting one for my girlfriend. I told him, that’s not my girlfriend. That’s my wife. When he heard that, he insisted on giving you one for free. If you don’t want it, I’ll eat it when I’m done with mine. You just need to—”
“Oh, I want it.” She took a big lick around the edges. “I just didn’t want to say it.”
He smiled. “You were gonna eat half of mine. That was the plan.”
She smiled, took another lick. “Is this coconut?”
He nodded. “As soon as I saw it in the case, I knew I was bringing one out to you. When do we ever see coconut ice cream?” He turned the car on, took a big lick of his own double-scoop raspberry.
“What can’t you get used to?”
“What? Oh, calling you my wife. I love whenever I get to say it. Afterwards I think, I can’t believe it. Rachel’s my wife.” They were married two months ago, but Jack hadn’t been able to break away from his duties at the university for a honeymoon trip until this past week.
As he turned his blue, BMW sedan left onto Main Street, she leaned over and kissed him. “How much further till we reach your grandmother’s? I don’t want to still be eating this when she first sees me.”
“Turns out, this ice cream shop is exactly one ice cream cone away from my grandmother’s place. Over the years, I’ve lost count of the times I had to finish one to avoid getting a lecture about spoiling my dinner. But I can’t drive by that place without stopping whenever I come here.”
“When was the last time you visited her?”
“Almost two years ago. But I can’t wait that long anymore.”
“Didn’t you say she was ninety-four?”
“Almost.”
“And she lives alone?”
He nodded, took another lick of his cone. “That’s how she wants it. My folks and I have tried over the years to get her to move someplace else. They even bought their last house because it had a mother-in-law apartment, but she says she doesn’t want to leave. All her memories with my grandfather are there.”
“I can see that,” Rachel said. “If you’re married to someone that long.”
“Sixty-one years,” Jack said. “Grandpa has been gone now since 2001.”
“That’s a long time to live alone.”
“It is.” He turned right at Cross Street, drove past the town hall.
Rachel’s eyes were looking all around. “I get why she wouldn’t want to leave here, besides all the memories. I already love this place. What a beautiful little town. Really, this whole drive through Cape Cod has been amazing.” They drove past a string of homes. “Look at these. They’re so adorable. Every one of them. I get now why they call this style of house Cape Cod.”
“You’re going to love her place. It’s not far. It’s just like these but on water.”
“She lives in a beach house?”
“Not quite. It’s a big pond. That’s what they call it anyway, but it really connects to the ocean if you trace it out far enough. My grandfather bought the house a long time ago, after he retired from the military. It was pretty affordable then. Now it’s worth over a million, and it’s not even that big a house.”
“What’s she like?”
“She’s…pretty frail, but she’s always been petite. Her mind, though, is as sharp as ever. You’re gonna love her. And she’ll love you right off the bat. I’ve told her all about you.” His grandmother wasn’t physically able to make it to the wedding, which was why Jack made this little detour during their honeymoon drive through New England, so the two of them could meet.
“What’s her name?”
“Renée.”
“Sounds French.”
“It is, and she really is from France. Still has a slight accent, even after living here so long. They met in England during World War II a short time after she left France, right after the Nazis took over.”
“You grandfather was a fighter pilot, right?”
“He was, for several years. But he did a whole lot more things in his military career. I can’t wait for you to hear their story. That’s the other reason I wanted to come here. So she could tell you my grandfather’s story. I only heard bits and pieces of it while he was alive. Two years after he died, I came up to visit her for a week, and she told me the whole thing. How they met, how they fell in love. How he even came to be in England in the first place. When he took that boat ride across the Atlantic, America wasn’t even in the war yet. It was more than a year before Pearl Harbor. What he did was actually illegal. If he got caught, he could’ve been sent to prison. Maybe even lose his US citizenship.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. You’re not gonna believe their story. It’s the wildest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Weren’t you were named after him?”
Jack nodded. “I am. Flying Officer Jack Turner. That’s who he was when she first met him. He was an American pilot flying for the RAF. He even fought in the Battle of Britain, and he’s the reason I majored in mi
litary history and focused mainly on World War II. It all started after my grandmother told me his story. Well, their story.”
“How come you’ve never told me their story before?”
He made a quick left turn, then a quick right. “Because…why hear a great story retold from a third-party when you can hear it told in person by a living eyewitness?”
“Won’t talking about these things stir up a bunch of painful memories for her?”
“It might. No…it probably will. But not all the memories are painful. I think she’d say most of them aren’t. The way she tells it, it’s not really a war story at all. Although there’s a ton of action and suspense in it. But hearing her tell it, it sounds more like a love story.”
“I like love stories.”
“I know you do.”
“You sure she won’t mind?”
“I know she won’t. I called her yesterday before we left our hotel in Newport and asked her.”
“What did she say?”
“At first, there was a long pause. I was about to say not to worry about it. But then she said—with that sweet French accent—that she’d be willing to tell their story one last time. Just for you.”
2
Jack turned right onto a private road that led to his grandmother’s property, as well as a few other homes that bordered the pond. They drove past an open area filled with flowers, bordered by bright yellow bushes.
“I keep seeing these beautiful yellow flowers and bushes,” Rachel said. “What are they?”
“The flowers are daffodils, and the flowering bushes are forsythia. You’re also seeing some dandelions, which God throws in for free. My grandmother said everything started blooming last week. She’s got plenty of all three on her property. It’s just up ahead on the left. You can see the water straight down the road.”
“I could get used to this,” Rachel said. “At least, in the spring.”
“Summer and Fall are both really nice here, too. Really, just the winters are tough. And they can be brutal. Sometimes they go pretty long, too, swallowing up the first part of the spring. But I knew we’d be coming at a great time.” He slowed the car down and turned left into a driveway. “Here we are.”
“Oh my gosh, Jack. It’s adorable. I love those little dormers sticking out of the second story.”
Jack looked it over, trying to imagine seeing the house for the first time. “It looks a little small at first, but wait till you see inside. Those dormers are the front windows for the bedrooms. There are some really cool angled ceilings up there. And you’re gonna love the furniture. Pretty much all antiques, except for the family room. She made everything comfortable in there.” Jack drove past the house and stopped in front of a freestanding garage.
“I thought you said the property was on the water.”
“It is. When you get out, walk past the big tree. You’ll see it.” He pointed to the covered porch that ran along the back of the house. “You can see the water plainly sitting there, by those tables and chairs.”
She came behind the car, walked past him onto the grass and continued past the oak. A big smile came over her face. She turned around and looked at the back porch. “I’d love to drink my morning coffee sitting right there.”
“You can, but you’ll need to wear a sweater. Still pretty nippy here in the morning.”
One of the French patio doors opened. Jack instantly recognized the smiling face of his grandmother as she stepped outside. She looked almost the same, though, if possible, even more frail than before. This would be the last time he’d wait this long to see her. “Hey Grandma.” He waved and walked toward her.
“Jack,” she said, reaching out her arms. “You’re here.”
He got to her before she made it to the steps. Tears filled her eyes. He gave her as tight of a hug as he dared.
“I’m so glad you came.”
“Me, too.” She released the hug, but he clung to her a moment more. When he let go, she took one step to the side to welcome Rachel.
“Look at you,” she said to Rachel. “Even prettier than the pictures.” She reached out to hug her and Rachel quickly responded.
“Thanks,” she said, “and thanks so much for having us. I’m so glad to finally meet you.”
Jack’s grandmother continued to hold one of Rachel’s hands as they walked. “No, thank you for taking time out of your honeymoon to see me. I can’t believe you did that.”
“There was just no way we were going to get this close and not stop by,” Jack said. “When I mentioned it to Rachel, she didn’t even hesitate a moment before saying yes.”
“Well, I’m so glad it worked out. I was sad I couldn’t make your wedding. I’m just not able to travel long distances anymore. The last time I flew, my ribs cracked with just a little bit of turbulence.”
“Ouch,” Rachel said. “I’ve had cracked ribs before. It’s very painful.”
“It is. And at my age it takes forever to heal.” She turned back toward the patio door. “Why don’t you two come in and we’ll show Rachel around. Then you can get your things from the car and get situated in your room. While you do that, I’ll make us a fresh pot of coffee. We can chat out here on the porch and get caught up.”
“I would love that,” Rachel said.
“Great. Then that’s what we’ll do.”
Rachel thoroughly enjoyed the tour of the downstairs. Jack was right: she loved every stick of furniture in his grandmother’s home, and every choice she had made decorating it. Even her choices in wallpaper, which Rachel didn’t use on her walls anymore, but it seemed totally appropriate here. And she loved listening to her talk: a sweet, almost lyrical voice with a trace of French still present, especially with certain words and phrases.
After showing them the first floor, she hesitated at the stairs. Jack interjected. “Grandma, I noticed you’re using the guest room down here as your bedroom. Is that because you’re letting us use the master bedroom upstairs?”
“No, I moved myself down here permanently. The stairs are just too hard for me to navigate anymore. They make me dizzy.”
“That’s what I thought. How about I show Rachel the upstairs, and you go make the coffee?”
“That might be a good idea. Don’t forget to show her the balcony.”
“I won’t.”
Jack took Rachel by the hand and led her up the stairs. There were three more bedrooms. The master bedroom to the right of the stairs had its own bath. Another fairly big bedroom was down the hall at the other end of the house. In between was a smaller bedroom and a family bathroom. Rachel loved the hardwood floors, and the nice collection of Oriental rugs centered in each room.
“Oh, almost forgot,” Jack said. He brought her back to the master bedroom. “The balcony.”
She could already see it through two French doors, beyond the four-post queen-size bed against the left wall. Jack led her past the bed and opened one of the doors. Crisp, cool air blew in. They walked out together. “Okay, I changed my mind. This is where I want to have my morning coffee.”
“Isn’t this perfect?”
The balcony didn’t stick out from the house but was set inside with walls on each side. Thick limbs from nearby oak trees arched over the left side but did nothing to hinder the view of the water. Two well-worn wicker chairs were angled in each corner, each with a small circular table. Rachel sat in one and put her feet up on the balcony. “Can we just move in? Can we just live here from now on?”
Jack laughed. “I know, right?” He leaned over and kissed her. “But we better head back down.”
She sighed. “I know. But I claim this corner.” She stood, put her arms around him and kissed him. Then kissed him a little longer.
“This is not a good idea,” Jack said, smiling. “I mean, it’s a great idea, but maybe a few hours from now.” He pulled away gently but continued to hold her hand. “Let’s head back downstairs. I’ll get our stuff from the car and bring it back up here. Would you feel comfortabl
e visiting with my grandmother?”
“Sure.”
“And maybe…fix our coffee?”
“I can do that.” They walked past the bed, out into the hall and started down the stairs. Halfway down, Rachel whispered, “What should I call her?”
“I’m not sure. I think I know, but why don’t you ask her what she’d like you to call her?”
“Okay.”
When they got downstairs, Jack’s grandmother was just pouring the coffee and setting the mugs on a tray. “Let me get that for you,” Rachel said, “…uh, Mrs. Turner? Or…I’m not sure what I should call you.”
The old woman smiled. “Well, my name is Renée. That’s what my friends call me. But since we’re family now, you can call me what Jack does, if that doesn’t feel too strange?”
“I think I would like that.”
“Then just call me Grandma.”
Rachel pointed to the tray with the coffee mugs. “Then, may I get that for you, Grandma?”
“Thank you, that would be lovely.”
Just then, Jack’s phone rang. It startled them a little. He hadn’t gotten any calls since they’d started their honeymoon several days ago. Before they’d left, he had given strict instructions to his personal secretary and the rest of the staff he interacted with at the University. Under no circumstances were they to contact him on his honeymoon, unless it was an absolute emergency.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen. A stern look instantly appeared on his face.
“Who is it, Jack?” Rachel asked.
“My secretary.” He sighed, conflicted about what to do.
“You better get it,” she said. “It’s the first time they’ve called. It must be important, right?”
He sighed again. “It better be.” He touched the screen and held the phone to his ear. “Hey Aileen, this is Jack….”
3
“Hi, Dr. Turner. I’m so sorry interrupting your honeymoon like this. I wouldn’t do it unless I was absolutely forced to. It really is an emergency. Not the life or death kind, but it’s pretty serious. Dr. Mendelson called a few minutes ago and insisted I contact you about it.”
