A CRY FROM THE DEEP

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A CRY FROM THE DEEP Page 28

by Unknown


  Had she told Barbara that?

  “You look surprised. You did tell me the woman in your dreams looked like you.”

  “What if there was a resemblance? We dream about ourselves all the time,”

  Barbara didn’t say anything for a few moments. She seemed to be considering her reply carefully. “We do, but you have to agree, this feels different, or else you wouldn’t be here. Let’s say the spirit was you in a former life.”

  “Are you talking reincarnation? Do you really believe in that?”

  Barbara put her notepad down on her lap. “There’s so much we don’t know. But from everything you’ve told me, I don’t know how else to explain what’s happened to you.”

  Catherine wasn’t all that surprised by the answer. She’d been entertaining the same thought. Was Margaret’s story, her story from another time? Barbara was waiting for her to say something. Catherine took a deep breath, letting some frustration go. “Okay, say that’s true. Where do I go from here?”

  “What if it’s you who needs to finish the story?”

  Catherine’s mouth went dry and she had to lick her lips before replying. “I think I’m missing something here.”

  “You told me about that book you found. You mentioned the author wrote about the discovery of Martin’s notebook.”

  “Yes. He said a notebook had been found under Martin O’Donnell’s cairn. In it, the old man had written about the tragedy. And how all he’d wanted for his daughter was for her to do well in America, and have a love that would last forever.”

  “Okay.” Barbara’s eyes twinkled, as if she was about to perform some magic trick. “A love that would last forever. Because of the storm, we can presume that Margaret’s love wasn’t consummated. Her relationship wasn’t fulfilled. Perhaps it can be through you. Maybe that’s what she wants you to find, that which eluded her in her life and has eluded you in this one.”

  “Wow. This is starting to sound like bullshit. I was married before. This is not about me, or sex. I consummated my marriage.”

  “Do you think of your ex as the love of your life?”

  Trying to digest what Barbara was saying made Catherine edgy. She rubbed the back of her neck to ease the stress. “I don’t know where you’re going with this.”

  Barbara folded her hands in her lap. “Let me put it another way. Some people when they fall in love say, I’ve found my soul mate. Did you ever feel that way about your ex?”

  Catherine wrinkled her brow. It had been love, but not a passionate love. Not like the love she had for Daniel. “No.”

  Barbara nodded, as if this was the answer she’d expected. She wrote something down.

  Catherine tried to make sense of the pieces in front of her. It was strange that Daniel looked like James in her dream, but that could’ve been her unconscious wishing for that to be true.

  “What are you thinking?” asked Barbara.

  Catherine sighed. “Daniel is getting married in two weeks. If he is my soul mate, then Margaret’s out of luck. She’ll just have to wait another lifetime to get what she wants.” When Barbara didn’t say anything, Catherine added, “I’m glad I threw away the ring. I can’t go through the next thirty years being chased by some restless ghost.”

  Barbara smiled. “Does Daniel know how you feel about him?”

  Catherine shrugged. “For a short while, I thought he felt the same way.” Her eyes welled up. “It’s alright. It wasn’t meant to be.”

  Barbara pushed a box of tissue towards Catherine.

  Catherine wiped away her tears. “You know, salvaging is a messy, dirty business. You don’t know who’s ethical and who isn’t.”

  “Yeah, so…?”

  Catherine shook her head. “Just some loose ends I have to work out.” No point muddying the waters by bringing up the question of Daniel’s dishonesty. For all she knew, he could be playing both sides. He could’ve got a big payoff from Hennesey. With what had gone on, she was convinced she was better off without him. Maybe she still had a chance with Richard. He wasn’t her soul mate, but what was the good of having one, if all you got was heartache?

  THIRTY-NINE

  Between her schedule and Frank’s, two weeks went by before Catherine was able to meet him for coffee at a French bistro on the upper east side. He’d told her he was anxious to discuss the layout of her work, along with the essay she’d written on her experience.

  She was barely seated when Frank said, “The photos you sent of Hennesey pocketing the gold chain? I’ve checked with the authorities. He hasn’t reported that item. I’ve sent it to both the Spanish government and the Receiver of Wreck in Ireland. Both governments are in talks together on how to proceed legally against Hennesey.”

  “That’s fantastic!” Catherine was stunned by how quickly Frank had moved. “Any word from Hennesey on this?”

  He chuckled. “He’s pissed. He was enroute home when he got word from his attorney.”

  “I wish I could’ve seen his face when he found out. You think those photos are enough?”

  “It’s strong evidence given that the jeweled crucifix and a couple of other items have also gone missing.”

  “What? They disappeared?” Why was she so shocked? The man had a stranglehold on the word ‘audacity’. Catherine looked up as the waitress filled her cup with coffee. “Thank you.” She waited until the waitress left. “What does Hennesey have to say about that?”

  “He claims he put them in the trunk of his car and was going to send them to a conservation lab in Florida. He says he had every intention of letting the proper authorities know, but the rental car’s trunk had a faulty lock and when he stopped for lunch on the way to the airport, somebody broke in.”

  “Right, and I have three ears.”

  Frank paused to clean his glasses with a napkin. “Anyway, thanks to you, we have two big stories. One about a lost ship from the Spanish Armada. The other about salvagers like Hennesey, who disregard international law.”

  She added sugar to her coffee. “Did you check with the rental car company?”

  “Yes,” he said, groaning. “The car trunk lock was broken. They apologized. Who knows if Hennesey paid them off, or if he jimmied the lock himself. Daniel figures Hennesey could easily have buggered up the lock to validate his case.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” said Frank, looking puzzled by her response.

  How could she tell Frank what she suspected? She had no proof that Daniel was involved. Maybe tying up with Sean had twisted his brain about wealth. Maybe he needed to accumulate some riches of his own, to compete with Sean’s parents.,

  Frank continued. “It’s going to be the cover story. Your photos and your experience are bound to stir up some big players in heritage preservation, and I don’t mean just the ones from Ireland and Spain.”

  “What can I say? I’m thrilled.”

  “The fact that Hennesey has pulled this stunt before is going to hurt him. You may have to testify.”

  “Happy to, if it’ll put scumbags like Hennesey out of the game.”

  Frank rested his elbows on the table. “Glad you’re on board with this.” His eyes were warm and fatherly. “Now tell me, have you talked to Daniel since you got back?”

  She winced. “No. I’m sure he’s very busy. Isn’t the wedding this weekend?”

  “You’re not going?”

  She laughed bitterly. “You’d think I’d go even if I had an invitation?”

  “I think he’s making a mistake.”

  “You know she’s pregnant.”

  Frank frowned. “She played her trump card.”

  Scrunching her eyebrows, she said, “Are you going to the wedding?”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t miss a high society shindig. You know me, I like to hobnob with the rich and famous.”

  “Good,” she said as she fussed with her napkin. “You can tell me all about it.”

  He regarded her for a moment. “What about Richard?”

  “Wh
at about him?” When he didn’t answer, she said, “He’s good, you know. If I gave him any encouragement,...”

  “Well, that’s something.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know. He’s actually been dating a very nice girl. Alex likes her.”

  He reached across the table and took her hand. “You think you can stomach one more meeting with Daniel before you head back?”

  “Sure.” My stomach can take it, don’t know about my heart.

  He squeezed her hand. “Good. We can meet at Daniel’s office.”

  Only one more meeting and she could go home and put this all behind her.

  ~~~

  Before Catherine could stop her, Alex had torn open an invitation addressed to Catherine and Alex Fitzgerald. It had arrived special delivery. On the front of the card was an embossed bride and groom. Of course Alex was excited. Ever since Catherine had read her the book, Pride and Prejudice, she was enamored with the whole idea of romance and love everlasting. Plus, she’d never been to a wedding before.

  Alex handed Catherine the invitation.“A wedding! We’re going to a wedding! Won’t it be fun? I’ll need a new dress and everything!”

  Catherine read the first paragraph.

  Harold and Maude Billings request your presence at the marriage ceremony

  of their daughter, Sean Billings, to Daniel Costello,

  son of Robert and Tina Costello.

  Catherine choked back tears as she read the announcement. It was one thing to know about Daniel’s upcoming marriage, it was another to see it in black and white. By the time she got to the date and the place, the details had blurred. Alex was too busy pirouetting around the room to notice any gloom.

  Catherine was about to throw the envelope away when she found a note inside. She read:

  Catherine, I’m sorry this invitation is so late. We weren’t sure of your address, but Daniel managed to get it from Frank. We do hope you and your daughter can attend. Sean

  She stared at the exquisite handwriting. Daniel had to know how much this would hurt. Had he put Sean up to it? Did he even know Sean sent it? It was insulting that the note came from Sean. Not even from Daniel. Or Daniel and Sean. She held herself back from ripping the invite to shreds.

  “Can we, can we?” shouted Alex as she jumped around the room.

  “I don’t see how,” said Catherine. “First of all, the wedding is in four days. I don’t have a gift. I don’t have time to get something to wear. And thirdly, I hardly know them.”

  “You know him. He’s nice. You told me so yourself.”

  “That’s beside the point,” Catherine said firmly. “We’re not going.”

  Alex screamed, “You’re the worst mother ever!” She stomped to her room and slammed the door.

  “Alex! You come back here!”

  Alex came out of the room pouting, her arms folded across her chest.

  “Don’t you ever bang that door again!”

  “Fine,” said Alex between clenched teeth, and turned around and went back into her room, this time closing the door quietly.

  Much as she’d love to take Alex to a real wedding, this was not the one. She hoped Alex would forgive her, and not bring it up years down the road, as kids are apt to do. Catherine wished she could explain to Alex why it was impossible to go. But what seven year old understands the chemistry of love and all it entails? Jane Austen had written a beautiful novel, but it was a story, not real life.

  Catherine couldn’t believe how her argument with Alex had spiraled out of control. Ever since she got back from Ireland, Alex and she had locked horns time and again. It was if Alex at seven had skipped six years in her absence and was now a teenager.

  It didn’t help that Catherine’s patience was at an all time low. How could she attend to Alex when her mind and heart were elsewhere? Everywhere she turned, she saw his face—the way he smiled, the way his dimples creased. But she also saw his other face, the one laughing with Hennesey. That was the one she had to hang on to. It was the one that would help her get through the next few weeks.

  FORTY

  Daniel’s office was located in midtown Manhattan overlooking Brandt Park. It had only been a couple of weeks since Catherine had seen Daniel, yet he looked drawn, as if he’d been battling the flu for awhile. She let him hug her when she showed up in reception, his musk scent instantly taking her back to the Slieve League cliffs. She trembled involuntarily. She hoped he hadn’t noticed.

  “Good to see you,” he said, holding her shoulders.

  Pulling away, she half-smiled. “Same.”

  When Frank showed up moments later, they followed Daniel into a boardroom. Like the rest of the suite of offices they passed, the room had a high ceiling and expansive windows. Seven floors down, Catherine could see the carousel and the expansive lawn and walkways of the park in back of the New York library.

  She turned to him. “This is some view! How do you get any work done?”

  He grinned. “I wear a blindfold.”

  “Ha.” His dark circles were even more pronounced in the light streaming in from the windows. If he was involved with Hennesey, that could be guilt written on his face.

  “Okay, you two.” Frank laid out his plans for the cover article on the mahogany table, “Since this is going to be our feature article, we’re devoting five to seven pages for the story. Catherine’s photos will dominate at least half of the spread.”

  “And so they should,” said Daniel.

  Catherine glanced at him. His cooperation was disconcerting.

  Frank said, “I figure we’ll put that shot you have of Hennesey holding the necklace on the cover.”

  “Can we do that?” she asked. “What if Hennesey tries to stop it?”

  “He can’t. He signed a contract before he left for Ireland. He agreed to you documenting the salvage operations through photos and anecdotes. At this stage, anything can be used.”

  Daniel poured them all a glass of water from a pitcher on the table. “What about the other items? The jeweled crucifix and the gold medallions?”

  The way he’d mentioned the items, she thought she’d detected some hesitation. She looked at Frank to see if he’d noticed.

  Frank obviously didn’t as he went on. “We’ll use them all. Anything that suggests there’s a cover-up. In fact, I want to title this story—Underwater Black Market.”

  “I like it,” said Catherine. She looked at Daniel for his reaction. It was curious that she didn’t detect any change in his face.

  From then on, they threw ideas around like so much confetti. When the sun had dropped in the sky, Frank looked at his watch. “This has been great, but I have to catch a plane back to Washington. There are a few loose ends but I’ve gone over them with Daniel. He can fill you in.”

  Catherine looked at Daniel, who said, “Happy to.”

  She must’ve looked uneasy, as Frank said to her, “It won’t take long. Walk me to the elevator, okay? I hate hasty good-byes.”

  As they walked, she said, “Say hello to Nona for me. Is she still bugging you about working too hard?”

  “Not since I’ve changed my ways. Why in the hell do you think I’m rushing back to Washington? I’ve discovered rather late, there’s more to life than work.”

  “Good to hear. And thanks for giving me the chance to get my feet wet again.” She hugged him by the elevator door.

  “I couldn’t have done it with anyone else.” As he got on the elevator, he winked and said, “Go get him, Catherine.”

  The elevator doors closed before she had a chance to reply. Did he mean Hennesey or was he talking about Daniel? She wanted to say if you only knew.

  When she found Daniel in his office, he was on the phone, mostly listening to whoever was on the line. She looked around and was surprised to find no photos of Sean anywhere. There were however framed degrees and photos of Daniel on scuba diving trips, some plaques acknowledging his accomplishments, and a bowl of extraordinary sea shells and stones. The space was cozy, like hi
m.

  He put up a finger, indicating he’d be finished soon. She walked over to the window. The street below was congested with yellow cabs and luxury cars, the time of day when people were rushing back to their private lives.

  After he’d hung up, he joined her by the window. “Okay, let’s have it. Something is bugging you.”

  She hesitated, then said, “I’m wondering what’s going on. You and Hennesey.”

  “Me and Hennesey?” Open-mouthed, he looked shocked.

  Folding her arms, she said, “The week before I left, I was coming down the galley steps and found the two of you talking, laughing together. It was pretty cozy. I got the impression you were talking about me.”

  He looked away. She couldn’t tell whether he was wracking his mind trying to remember, or avoiding her scrutiny.

  “You’re uncharacteristically quiet,” she said, accusingly.

  He returned her gaze and put his hands up, as if he was holding back traffic. “Before you go any further, sit down.”

  She scowled, “I feel better standing.”

  Frowning, he put his hands on the back of a chair. “You’re right. I did play up to him, but only to throw him off of you.”

  “What?” She stared in disbelief.

  “I told him he’d convinced me of the law of salvagers, that it didn’t make sense to share the booty. I told him all you got was what he knew. When he questioned me some more about it, I said you cared about me, and that I’d use that to make sure you didn’t blow the whistle on him.”

  “You said that?”

  He nodded. “I didn’t want to take a chance, not ‘till you got back to New York. Safe.” He cocked his head and smiled. “I guess I wasn’t that believable. If I had been, Hennesey wouldn’t have sent Raul to scare you.”

  She sat down. Was he telling the truth? Or was this another ploy to weaken her resolve?

  He sat down across from her and leaned forward. “And then, when you confronted him and told him you’d sent the photos to Frank, I was relieved.”

  “Let me get this straight. So that whole thing with Hennesey was an act?”

 

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