More Deaths Than One

by Pat Bertram

  A polo-shirted man came out of a brick house and swaggered to a white BMW.

  Bob stopped to wait for the soon-to-be-vacant parking space.

  “My roommate is supposed to be gone this week,” Kerry said, climbing out of the Volkswagen, “but I better go check, make sure the coast is clear.”

  Before Bob could speak, she slammed the door and dashed toward her friend’s house.

  He watched her run up the stairs. This isn’t right. We shouldn’t be separating now that we’re back in the city. Glancing at the man by the BMW, he noticed him patting his pockets as if looking for keys.

  Without turning off the ignition, Bob got out of the car and let the door swing shut. He hesitated, wondering if he should go after Kerry.

  At that moment he heard her scream.

  Chapter 26

  Bob bounded up the porch steps, taking them two at a time.

  Kerry came crashing out of the house, swinging an upside-down brass lamp, and yelling. As she hurdled the stairs, she sideswiped him.

  He reeled. Before he could regain his balance, Ted barreled through the door after Kerry. He collided with Bob, righted himself, and kept on going.

  “Get that bitch,” Sam shouted. “Don’t let her get away.” He staggered out of the house, one hand clamped to his scalp. Blood trickled from beneath the fingers into his eyes. Shaking his head, he let out a roar and bolted past Bob, knocking him into the forsythia.

  Bob pulled himself to his feet. Heart thudding, body tensed, he snapped his head toward the sound of Kerry’s voice.

  She stood in the middle of the street, swinging the lamp and yelling. The man by the BMW shouted at a woman in the doorway of the brick house to call 911. Several other people had come out of their homes to gawk.

  Sam and Ted slowly circled Kerry, keeping out of the lamp’s range. Bob caught a glimpse of metal and realized Ted held a gun by his side.

  Sam moved behind Kerry, facing in Bob’s direction. Bob felt a change in the atmosphere like the first subtle shift in barometric pressure that foretells a storm, and he knew Sam had seen him.

  Sam bellowed, “There he is.”

  Arms outstretched, pointing his weapon, Ted spun around. “Where? Where? I don’t see him.”

  “He was by the bushes but he’s not there now,” Sam said, pulling a portable phone out of his pocket.

  “Shit.” Ted ran toward the bushes. “We were right there.”

  Bob waited a second until Sam also headed his way, then he skirted the porch and went around to the back of the house. He listened to make certain the two men were still coming after him.

  Sam called for backup, barking instructions into his phone as he ran.

  Ted’s mutterings kept time with his footfalls. “We had him. It was all over. Then we lost him.”

  Zigzagging through alleys and backyards, Bob felt adrenaline flooding his veins and charging every sense, every inch of skin, every neuron in his body with an acute awareness. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered this same feeling of being totally alive, but as he tried to capture the memory, it slipped beyond his grasp.

  Then all mental chatter died. All sense of time, of place, of self fell from him.

  He ran.

  A neighborhood park came into view, and a tall clump of bushes seemed to beckon. He stepped into its embrace. The leaves felt cool against his cheeks.

  Gnats buzzed in his ears. Crickets chirped. Crows squawked. A small brown dog trailing a leash raised a leg and urinated on his shoe.

  The sun slowly dipped toward the horizon.

  Long after he realized the hunt must been called off, he remained hidden. Finally, he returned to the house.

  The Volkswagen was gone. So was Kerry.

  ***

  Scott Mulligan answered his knock.

  Bob felt a fleeting ache at the sight of the man’s calm expression, remembering that once he too had felt serene. He allowed himself a fraction of a second to wonder if serenity would ever be his again, then he stiffened his spine.

  “Can I leave a message for Kerry in case she contacts you?”

  Scott smiled. “No need. She’s out back with the children, inspecting the greenhouse.”

  Bob let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

  Scott ushered him into the living room. “You’re obviously in some kind of trouble. I’d like to help.”

  “Believe me, I’d welcome your help, but I don’t know what you can do. I don’t know yet what I can do.”

  “Do you need a place to spend the night?”

  Bob shook his head. “We’ll be okay.”

  “At least stay for dinner.”

  “We better not.”

  Scott held out a hand. “I’m glad you and Kerry considered my home a haven. When you get everything worked out, be sure to come back.”

  Grasping the outstretched hand, Bob nodded, not trusting himself to speak. In the silence, he heard the children’s excited voices growing louder. A few seconds later they burst into the room, Kerry in tow.

  She launched herself into his arms. “You got away. I was so worried.”

  He held her tightly. The briny scent of her hair reminded him of all she had been through, and he felt something catch in his throat.

  Becoming aware of Scott’s shrewd gaze focused on them, he loosened his grip and took a step back.

  “We have to go.”

  “Mom’s going to be home soon,” Beth said.

  “And we’re having spaghetti for dinner,” Jimmy added.

  Kerry hugged both of them at the same time. “There’ll be other days.”

  After a flurry of goodbyes, Bob and Kerry left.

  He scanned the cars parked along the curb. “Where’s the VW?”

  “Around the corner and down the block. I didn’t want to get too close to the Mulligan’s place in case somebody followed me.”

  A chill feathered the back of his neck, but he managed to keep his voice steady. “Did anyone follow you?”

  “I don’t think so.” She rubbed her arms as if to get warm. “When I went in the house, I dropped my purse on the table like I always do. I turned around, and this guy came toward me. I hit him with the lamp. It knocked him over, but he got up right away, then the other guy came out of my bedroom. I didn’t know what else to do, so I screamed and ran. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “No.”

  “I saw you, but I couldn’t keep from running into you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Your flight hormones took over is all.”

  She shuddered. “Who were those guys?”

  “The one you hit is Sam, the other is Ted.”

  “That’s what I figured. Somehow it seemed like a game—hiding out in motel rooms, dashing halfway across the world, but after today . . .”

  “I know,” Bob said softly. “I am sorry.”

  “What are you sorry about? You didn’t do anything.”

  “I got you involved.”

  She planted a fist on her hip. “We already had this discussion.”

  He considered pointing out that the stakes were higher for her now, but realized it wouldn’t change the way she felt.

  “You handled yourself well this afternoon.”

  “I acted like a dippy girl, screaming and run-ning.”

  “But you’re alive. At the end of the day, that’s all that counts.”

  “I guess.”

  “There’s no guessing. What’s that saying, ‘when the going gets tough, the tough get going’? Well, you got going.”

  He was pleased to see her lips curve into a slight smile.

  “That’s not what it means, and you know it.” She paused by the car. “Maybe you better drive since my license is in my purse back at the house.” She handed him the keys, then snatched them back. “Wait a minute. You don’t have a license either.”

  She scooted around the car, slid into the driver’s seat, and turned the key in the ignition.

  “Where to?”

/>   “A motel.”

  She peeled away from the curb. “After the guys started chasing you, I ran for the car, threw the lamp in the back seat, and drove around. When I couldn’t find you, I went back to the house to wait, but a green Ford was parked down the block with two adults in it, and a white Buick with two more adults cruised the neighborhood. I didn’t know what to do. Then I remembered the Mulligans. Since they’re the only people we both know, I thought that was the best place to go. I’ve been there for hours. Where were you? I’m babbling, aren’t I? Jeez, I’m so tired I feel as if I could sleep for a month.”

  “It’s the adrenaline washing out of your system. That day when I found Sam and Ted in my room, I hid out in a porno theater and fell asleep.”

  “You fell asleep watching porn?” She laughed, the mischievous glint back in her eyes.

  Chapter 27

  Kerry drove around the block twice while Bob studied the pedestrians and the people in the parked cars. Not seeing anything suspicious, he directed Kerry to park down the street from Copy and Send, the storefront business where she had rented a mailbox.

  He laid a hand on her knee. “I’ll go in first, check the place to make sure it isn’t staked out inside. If I don’t come out, or if I’m with anyone when I do, I want you to leave. Go see Scott. He knows people who can protect you.”

  Her brows drew together. “You want me to drive away?”

  “I can endure anything if I know you’re safe.”

  “All right, if that’s what you want, but you better take care of yourself.”

  “I intend to. If everything seems okay, I’ll come out and watch from across the street while you go in to see if the package has arrived. After you’ve returned to the car, I’ll wait a few more minutes to see if anyone follows you or if any cars start up. If I don’t see anything suspicious, I’ll come back to the car. If I don’t come back—”

  “I know. Go see Scott.”

  ***

  An obese woman with big hair and mean eyes stared at Bob from her position behind the long counter as he looked around.

  There wasn’t much to see: rows of mailboxes, several copy machines, racks of packing materials and greeting cards. A leather-jacketed man in his twenties, who had six earrings in one ear, pulled envelopes from a mailbox, and an old woman with heavily rouged cheeks made copies.

  When Bob saw nothing that struck him as being out of the ordinary, he sauntered outside and crossed the street. Leaning against a pole, he took note of the activity. Vehicles slowing, pulling away from the curb, angling into parking spaces. People scurrying. Kerry walking into the store and coming out a minute later with a box about eighteen inches tall, two feet long, and a foot thick.

  A few men glanced at her as she carried the box to the car, but no one showed more than a passing interest. She shoved the box into the back seat, climbed into the driver’s seat, and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel.

  Bob waited. One minute. Two minutes. Finally, he returned to the car, and Kerry drove off. No one followed.

  ***

  They were on Highway 6, heading west. Denver lay behind them; housing tracts and office complexes stretched out on either side of them.

  Kerry bounced in her seat as she drove, radiating excitement. “I wonder what Harrison left you. Maybe we should stop at one of the motels around here. Whose idea was it to spend the night in the mountains, anyway?”

  Bob smiled at her. “Yours.”

  “Oh, right. Well, how was I to know you weren’t going to open the box till we got to the motel? If it was my box, I’d have opened it already.”

  “We’ll be there soon enough.”

  “If I live that long,” she grumbled.

  An hour later, they pulled onto an unobtrusive dirt road and descended into a barren bowl dotted with tiny cabins.

  “How did you hear about this place?” Bob asked.

  “A woman I waited on a couple of months ago. The way she raved about it, I expected something more than these shacks. Should we go somewhere else?”

  “No. It’s perfect. We’ll be able to keep track of the cars on the road.”

  They found the office in the largest building, which also housed a snack bar. A watery-eyed man leaning on two canes gave them a form to fill out, then directed them to their cabin.

  It felt as chilly inside as outside, but a plump down comforter covered the bed, and logs lay ready in a stone fireplace that took up half of one wall.

  “Their insurance must be astronomical,” Kerry commented, putting a match to the logs. When the fire took hold, she peeked into the bathroom. “I can do without the rust-stained fixtures, but otherwise it’s not a bad place.” All at once she let out a strangled cry. “What are you doing?”

  Startled, Bob dropped the brush he had picked up. “I’m getting ready to paint. Why?”

  “Why? Why? The package, that’s why.”

  He grabbed the brush and continued to lay his painting supplies on the scuffed wooden desk, unable to explain his reluctance to paw through Harrison’s papers.

  She stared at him. “Every time I think I’m get-ting to understand you, I learn something that reminds me I don’t know you at all.”

  He met her gaze. “We don’t have to know everything about each other right away. Since we’re going to be together, we have the whole rest of our lives to get to know each other.”

  “Are we going to be together?”

  “I’m planning on it.”

  An impish look appeared in her eyes. “Is this a proposal?”

  “If you want it to be.”

  The breath rushed out of her, and she dropped into a chair. When she finally spoke, her voice sounded subdued.

  “My whole life I’ve looked forward to having a wedding and being married, but after what I’ve learned about the government and their intrusions, I couldn’t bear to have to ask their permission, to get their sanction, to let them have any part of our life together.”

  “I feel the same way.”

  He placed beads of phthalo blue, napthol red, and titanium white on his palette and mixed the color of the Colorado sky.

  “Where are we going to live?” Kerry asked.

  “Your choice. Where you go, I go.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “I want to go back home to Chalcedony. I realize it’s still a quiet backwater, set apart from the rest of the world by mountains, but with you there with me, I’ll have all the challenge I need. We can get a nice place in the mountains. I’ll garden, maybe even build a greenhouse like the Mulligan’s.”

  As she continued to describe the future, Bob could see them walking hand in hand along the garden paths, and he could smell the flower-scented air. He could see the years passing. Kerry grew more beautiful and more settled without ever losing her boldness or the glint of laughter in her eyes. Despite their continued closeness, some of their differences were never reconciled. She always opened her mail on the walk back from the mailbox on the highway, and it drove her nuts that he set his aside unopened until he had time to deal with it.

  “Bob?”

  He pulled himself back to the present. “Yes?”

  “You’ve been painting a long time. Are you ready to eat?”

  He glanced at the canvas, surprised to see he’d finished the painting.

  Kerry came to stand beside him as he studied the scene. In the distance were the mountains, stark against the sky. In the foreground grew an exuberantly chaotic mix of flowers and vegetables. Off to the side stood the figure of a woman, radiant and serene, one hand raised as if in welcome.

  “That’s me,” Kerry exclaimed. “I thought you never painted people.”

  “When it comes to you, I’m not afraid of what my fingers will see.”

  “The garden is exactly as I imagined.” She gave him an oblique glance. “It’s lovely, but the flaw, as you call it, is still there.”

  He put an arm around her and drew her close. “I know.”

  “Are you okay with that?”<
br />
  “It’s a small shadow. I now realize some darkness will always appear in my paintings, and that’s fitting. Without shadow there is no perspective.”

  She laid her head on his shoulder. “You never answered my question. Are you ready to eat?”

  “I can wait a little longer. While I clean my mess, why don’t you open Harrison’s package.”

  ***

  Kerry ripped open the box, shoved aside layers of bubble packing material, and pulled out a battered brown leather valise.

  Bob recognized it instantly. Harrison’s valise, the one he had dragged all over Vietnam, having found that a briefcase could not hold all of his writing paraphernalia. Bob imagined he could feel Harrison’s presence, as if, once again, his friend had left the case in his safekeeping while he went in search of another beer.

  It seemed impossible that Harrison was dead, that he himself was leading this chaotic life where he was both hunter and prey.

  What about Hsiang-li? Had he at least found what he sought? Bob pictured Hsiang-li living peace-fully amid the ruins of the ancient monastery, with ageless Buddhas and the spirits of his long-dead wife and son to keep him company. Bob clung to the image, hoping it was true. He could not bear to think of his mentor still wandering the jungle, alone and hopelessly lost.

  Kerry snapped open the latches of the valise, withdrew a handful of papers, and looked through them.

  “These are all transcripts of interviews with ex-soldiers concerning The Sweeper. They must be research for the book Harrison planned on writing about him, but it doesn’t seem as if anyone knows much. One guy swears The Sweeper simply faded into the jungle one day and no one ever saw him again. An ex-corporal says he knows for a fact The Sweeper was a Russian spy who returned to Moscow after the war.”

  She set the papers aside and pulled a few more from the valise. “Here’s an interview with someone named Todd who says he served with him. According to Todd, The Sweeper didn’t fit in. He kept to himself, and he didn’t smoke or drink or take drugs because those things dulled his senses, clouded his mind, distorted his perceptions, and interfered with his ability to blend into the jungle. Todd says they kept telling him that was the whole point, but the guy never listened to them.”