by Tony Lavely
“I’ll be okay, Ms Jamse.”
“Beckie, please. We’re gonna be close for a while… Well, until you get tired of me, anyway. Don’t be surprised to find those won’t have the utility… Okay, okay.”
When they’d left, Willie said, “You know Elena’s right, don’t you?”
“About my guilt? Kinda. Damn it Willie, I don’t want anyone to go through what I did, what I am going through without Ian. I want everyone of us to be ready to do our best…” She leaned forward, head in her hands. “We have to work together to save each other and get the job done. When we don’t, when we go off on our own, or when we don’t know what to do… there be monsters in those waters, as the maps used to say. And the monsters, even if they don’t kill you, they throw you off enough so the bad guys can.” She sat up straight. “It’s important, Willie. More important than a split lip or scratch or some brief embarrassment. Not ever again standing in front of Amy or Shalin, or Carys or even Maurice and saying… he’s gone… he didn’t make it… that would be too soon.” She stood and strode to the door inside. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
In her bathroom, she washed her face, then sat on the chest at the foot of her bed. Will I ever get past the loss? I have to! But I… I don’t know… how. Oughta be a course in school about this part of growing up… Like there’s a course on any fucking part of growing up!
A quiet knock on the door interrupted her vexation. She cursed under her breath, then pushed up from the chest, scrubbing her face with her hands as she approached the door.
She found Dylan there, and gave him a look that must have mixed shock with ‘what the…’ At least, the look on his face went that way. He held his hands up. “Wait a second before you… anything,” he said.
“Yeah.” Her voice sounded angry and completely unwelcoming, even to her. “Come in; I won’t hurt you.” She led him through the bedroom to the balcony. “Sit if you want.” She leaned against the railing, looking out over the sea. I don’t know what I’m ready for, she admitted to herself. A muffled shout brought her eye around to the left. Next to a palm near the beach, she could see two figures grappling. Oh, yeah. Elena and Kerry. After several more seconds with no sound from behind her, she turned, ready to…
Dylan stood just outside the slider, completely still. He was standing, so she was pretty sure he was breathing, though she couldn’t see his chest or lips moving.
“Okay, Dylan. You’ve done a good job taming Amy; this ‘I’m scared to death of you’ act is just that. What’s going on?”
His eyebrows dropped, but she couldn’t read his eyes. He turned back into the room, and continued through. She heard the door close. Wow! What was that about? Did I piss him off that much? She dropped to sit on a recliner, then buried her face in her hands.
After a few moments, she slammed her fist into the recliner’s cushion and swore under her breath. She rose and slowly trudged into the room toward the door. Better get my act together, for sure. No one here is responsible for this but me.
She opened the door and stepped straight into Amy’s fist. She ducked instinctively. “Ooo!” As her head dropped away, she recognized the hand position as ready-to-knock-on-the-door, not ready-to-pound-her-face-in.
“My God, I’m sorry, Beckie!” Amy’s distress seemed genuine; Beckie recovered and grabbed her arm to stand.
Beckie took a breath to calm herself before speaking. “Came to check on me?”
Her question was rewarded with a full blush creeping up her friend’s face. No, not creeping, racing. Amy nodded.
“Well, I’m okay, I think. Is Elena back yet? With Kerry?”
“No, they’re still out on the beach. Willie said you’re gonna have her guard Solène?”
“I don’t know if guard’s the right term, but I think, based on the past few weeks, I want someone besides me or Shalin to be with her. I don’t think I want to send her to Columbia with you and Dylan… Dylan. What do I need to tell him?”
Amy didn’t answer, just stopped and pressed Beckie through the door to the lanai. Dylan and Willie were sitting on chairs. “Okaaay,” Beckie said. She dropped to sit on the sofa while Amy continued to stand behind Dylan’s chair. “First, Willie, you’re right and I shouldn’t have left without… without telling you that. Second, Dylan. What made you turn tail?”
He glanced down at his hand, the one that Amy hadn’t taken, then looked up at Beckie. “I was scared, Beckie. Of you. I didn’t—”
Beckie interrupted him by jumping off the sofa and running across to slide to a stop kneeling at his feet. “You need never be scared of me. Please believe that. You’ve done so much… for Amy and for me. Never be afraid of me.”
“Just, you had that look like Amy’s told me about. When you were working. Cold. Ruthless. Like nothing mattered and if I got in the way, I wouldn’t matter either.”
Beckie sagged on the floor, all the strength gone out of her. I need that attitude once in a while, but I never need it for these guys! She pulled herself straight again. “I don’t know what to say, Dylan, besides I didn’t mean to look that way at all, and not at you especially.”
“I have to say,” Willie said, “that was the look you gave me when you stomped out.”
“Wow. Well, thanks to both of you for sticking around so I can apologize. I can’t explain it… yeah, I need to think about why my head got to a place like that. But believe me, you aren’t the problem here. It’s either me or something else, but it’s not you.”
No one had any response to make. Beckie was sure her friends were trying hard not to say they agreed: it was her fault. When Elena and Kerry rapped on the door before lunch time, the group broke up, headed to their individual residences.
Beckie watched them off, then grabbed a sandwich from Boynton’s tray. Out on the south-facing beach, she sat. While she nibbled at the food, she wondered what Ian would have told her about her actions today. No good answer had presented itself by the time she licked her fingers and lay on the sand, closing her eyes against the sun.
A nudge in her arm brought her out of a dream that, except for Ian lying under that grey sheet, she couldn’t recall. Trillian nudged her again. “Okay, Trill. For getting me outta there…” She began scratching behind the cat’s ears.
Trillian stretched out beside her with her head on Beckie’s tummy. While continuing her attention to the ocelot, she said, “I’m not sure what to do. Even though Elena’s angry, I don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve it really. Maybe it’s just the baby… well, the pregnancy, anyway. Too many feelings. I just overreacted.”
She waited a few more minutes, then eased Trillian off, stood and began an hour’s walk.
Rose Creek Job
Chelsie Explains
“WILLIE,” BECKIE SAID WHEN HE arrived for the Sunday ten o’clock, “I was rereading Ian’s notes on the Rose Creek job. He made a funny notation at the end… Looks like date and…” She slid the notebook across the table to him. Boynton arrived with coffee and sat down at the head of the table.
Willie glanced at the writing, then passed the book on to Boynton.
He spent more time than Willie had, finally raising his eyes to look first at Beckie, then Willie. “He expected to be made good. But he doesn’t explain further.”
“Yup, that’s what I thought,” she said. She leaned back in her chair. A minute’s pondering left her with no more information than she’d had. “Kerry called it the ‘Rose Creek’ job. Why?”
Willie placed his cup on the table. “It’s what Sue and Rich have been calling it. The delivery is to a boat moored along the Rose Creek. In San Diego.”
“Ah. That’s why Sue said it ended about a mile from Lisa Grove’s house.” Gotta be coincidence, she told herself again. “So, someone wants whatever to arrive there, but late.”
“Seems so. But from a quick read of Ian’s notes, I see nothing that explains what or why, or the time sensitivity.”
“Correct,” Boynton said, “except that the
fee was mostly based on the time sensitivity of the delivery.”
Beckie cast a questioning look in Boynton’s direction; he pointed to two lines near the top of the notes. “Yeah, that could be taken that way,” she said in agreement. “Even so, no hint why. Or more interesting, why Ian expected to come out okay, even if we missed the date.” She sat back up and pointed to the carafe of coffee Boynton had set beside her cup. “That mine, Maurice?” When he nodded, she poured a cup and sipped. “So what does that do to my idea of losing the shipment completely? Do you see anything reading between the lines?”
Willie pulled the notebook back and read it once more. As he did, Boynton said, “You are both well aware of the care Ian took when making notes. I shouldn’t need to remind you that he frequently omitted things that would compromise a person or job if discovered, or that he was certain he would not require a reminder of.”
“Yeah, that looks like what we have here,” Willie said. “I see a big hole in the notes he took, especially compared with other jobs. So…”
Beckie grinned at him and then Boynton. “So all we have to do is figure out what he thought would or could be compromised by whatever it is we want to know?” She chuckled. “Piece of cake, right?”
“Did Rou send over the whole package?” Willie asked.
“I asked Kerry to put it together last night, drop the original contract with Else and bring the rest over this morning. Hope she didn’t decide to depart our shores after my… poor behavior.”
Boynton raised himself, looking toward Port Cay. “Unless my vision fails me, an auburn-haired lovely whose head is just visible over the boat’s gunwale will be docking in three to five minutes. Knowing the size of Rou’s data packages, I’ll go to assist her.”
“Cool. I think I’ll ask Rich and Sue to join us as well.”
Kerry apologized profusely—after Elena’s workout, lasting into the evening—she’d over-slept by ten minutes, the exact amount she was late. Beckie reflected that it made no difference; there was nothing the six of them could ferret out of the background information in Rou’s files. And did you really think there would be, Beck? You know better than that. If Ian was too concerned to put it in his notes, he’d make sure it wasn’t part of the contract data.
Damn, Ian! I wish we hadn’t decided to compartmentalize our work so well. What’s the trick? What do we need to see?
At noon, she decided going over the same material once again would reveal exactly what it had before: nothing. She suggested they all sleep on it and begin again tomorrow morning. When everyone had dispersed, she wandered over to Shalin’s, to be with her and the twins for the afternoon.
The next morning, Monday, Beckie sat at the lanai table with a fresh Danish and fruit plate accompanying her coffee. The weather this fine October day promised to be excellent; she wished she could make Amy truant so they could sail. However, she admitted, that’s not gonna happen. We have to figure out what exactly we’ll do about Rose Creek, and Lisa’s gotta head home while Amy and Dylan both return to Columbia.
If that’s not enough, Barbara’s headed in from Riyadh; that job’s finally done. And, she thought, finishing the pastry, there must be something I’ve forgotten.
“What bothers you, Mistress Rebecca?”
Boynton’s cheerful question roused her from her contemplations. “Just trying to decide which thing to tackle first. Nothing earth shattering, to be sure.” She followed her words with a smile as she reached for her cup.
“Would I be helpful when you meet with Rich and Sue?”
Hmm. That’s the kind of question begs for ‘no’ as an answer. “You are always helpful, as you surely know. However, we may be able to muddle through in your absence, as long as you’ll be available. You know, if we do need you?”
“Thank you. You have my phone. Ring me; I will instantly attend you.”
Her thanks were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“The Misses Stadd, Ardan and Grove. Shall I offer them breakfast?”
Beckie said, “Certainly!” as she checked her phone. “We have plenty of time.”
While the three women enjoyed Boynton’s offerings, Beckie talked to Lisa. “I asked Beth… Wait. I hope you had an… an educational experience this weekend?”
“Yes! I never thought—”
“I’ll get the review from Beth. Does that mean you’re not giving up on us as a career choice?”
“Unless you send me to the Retro Place, I think it was, for weeks on end… I’m sticking it out.”
“Ah, yes. Beth did spend some time there. And I for one was damn glad she did. Still, no need to worry about that. Now, anyway.” A smile rose as she recalled teasing Ben about that kind of job.
Amy cleared her throat. “Don’t know where your mind just went, but maybe it should come back?”
“Right. Thanks. Anyway. Lisa, I’m taking you with me to a meeting this morning before you hop on the plane.” She looked at Amy. “You’ve called for them already, right?”
“Last night. They’ll be here to leave about 12:30.”
“Good. Plenty of time. Now,” she said, turning back to Lisa, “for you, this is more education, to see how the non-action side goes. If you have any questions, ask away. We are all confused about some facets of this job, and a fresh mind couldn’t hurt.
“The only background I’ll give you is that it’s a combination protection and escort job, delivering an aluminum case from Newark, New Jersey, to San Diego. Close to your home, I’m told. Rose Creek.”
“What is it?”
“No idea. We don’t think it’s alive, or otherwise perishable, and it’s a hundred kilos or so, but beyond that…”
“Well, Rose Creek is a funny place for delivering anything but pizza and a case of beer. I mean, the whole of Mission Bay is a rec facility.”
Beckie felt a wave of discomfort, but forced a smile to replace it. “See, you’ve already added something to the discussion. Com’on, let’s get over to Sue’s place.” With a quick glance, she included everyone. “No reason you guys can’t join us, unless…”
“I was already planning to,” Amy said in response to Beckie’s glance, “so we have something to talk about on the plane. Nothing indiscreet, of course!”
“And I want to see how she fits,” Beth added.
The crowd, for that’s what Beckie realized she had on her hands, came together in the small living room of Sue and Rich’s home on Cottage Cay. She hadn’t wanted to take the responsibility of hosting the meeting from them, but as she looked around, she had doubts about the wisdom of that thought. Well, we’re here now. She refused more coffee in favor of a bottle of water and gave Sue a glance; the woman rapped the table top and began.
A quick review made sure everyone but Lisa, who had no background to speak of, was on equal footing. Some other group would have the case available Friday morning in Newark, New Jersey, at a freight forwarder’s office. Package must travel below 4500 feet and at speeds under the speed limit. It must be transferred to the Merri Soo, a powerboat moored at Campland, on the Rose Inlet side, not later than 1 PM local time on Sunday. After that, the boat will be gone and the penalty clause will take effect.
Beckie wasn’t the only one surprised by these requirements. Sue and Rich had been living with them, but they had just put the altitude requirements together with a topo map of the western US, and realized the single roadway meeting these requirements traversed the Rocky Mountains at almost the Canadian border. When coupled with the speed limits, it made a reasonable two day trip into one of over three days, eighteen hours late.
“How about… I know you must have thought of all these things,” Beckie said. “But why don’t we pressurize a plane to 4000 feet and just fly it?”
Rich smiled, and she saw the amused regret in his eyes. “Right. We thought of that. And a speedboat through the Panama Canal. Contract is explicit that not only may it not leave the US, land transportation is required, so we considered pressurizing a truck. Howev
er, it’s not an air pressure problem, but the actual elevation over sea level.” He shook his head. “Though I’m damned if I can figure out any reason to be concerned about it.” He ran his fingers through his ginger hair, and Sue touched his arm. “Next time, let’s find out what it is, so these kinds of restrictions at least make sense.”
Beckie nodded, wondering again about the possibility of ignoring the contract’s requirements. This isn’t the group to raise that idea with. I’ll grab Willie after.
Lisa raised her hand; the motion was tentative, a combination of fear and do you know what I know? “The package has to arrive by one PM Sunday?”
Sue looked at the papers. “Yeah. Not later than one PM PDT. That’s San Diego time. Why?”
“Monday morning, it’s been all over the news… one of the Navy’s big carriers is leaving port for some deployment. If I have the dates right. I didn’t pay too much attention… But I think that’s the date.”
Beth said, “I’ll check,” as she dragged her phone out and began tapping. “Oh!” She stared, first at Lisa, then Beckie. “I’ll be back in a minute. I want to check this.” She went to the other room.
“I don’t think I want to know what we’re bringing that its arrival should be synchronized with a carrier’s movements.”
“Yeah,” Beckie said. “Maybe we’re forcing a relationship that doesn’t exist. Let’s keep it in the back of our minds and—” Her phone rang with Boynton’s ring tone. “Hello, Maurice?”
“I’m going to bring over a message you just received. If this is a good time?”
“Who’s it from?”
“I have not opened it. The style of envelope is familiar from the negotiations surrounding the Rose Creek contract.”
“Yes, please bring it over!”
In fifteen minutes, Beckie held a buff number ten envelope in her hands. The stamp was not perfectly aligned; her name and address had been printed on the mailing label. However, the Mrs. had been added to the printed label’s ‘Ian Jamse.’ Does that mean they just found out Ian died and I’m leading the group? Or they just couldn’t be bothered to change the files? She shrugged. Doesn’t matter much, I guess. She ripped the end of the envelope off and reached inside to withdraw a single folded paper.
