“Kate needs you, dear.”
I held my breath waiting for the words to fly from her mouth and pierce my heart.
“Kate’s family has been killed in a car crash.”
My ears were roaring. Kate’s alive. Kate’s not hurt. My heart spiked. Then the dread of what Mama Ty said and what it meant sliced through me. Kate hurt beyond reason. She probably wanted to die with them, and I was not there.
“The rest of the Keepers are with her. They flew out with her immediately. The Chartreuse team left early this morning to go to the funeral. I comp’d the expenses. I didn’t think you would mind.”
“When is it?”
“Today, at 3 PM. I took the liberty of making your travel arrangements and packed both of you a bag. She picked up two black duffle bags and held them out to Donnie and me. I assumed you would want to be with her.”
I couldn’t breathe. The pain that Kate must be suffering lodged in my chest, an unholy thing. I stepped forward and hugged Mama Ty. The village administrator had thought of everything. She needed a raise.
“Thank you. For everything.”
A helicopter flew in from the east, its chopping sounds ricocheted off of the surrounding hills.
“That will be your ride, Mr. Chastain. The jet took the others before dawn, so the chopper will take you all the way there. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Cell phone.”
“It’s in your bag. I programmed Kate’s cell number for you.”
I nodded, numbly.
“Go now, you’ll barely make it in time as it is.”
Donnie and I ran for the chopper, climbed in, and nodded to the pilot. He took off immediately and we lifted away in a spiral. Mama Ty and Kim stood on the front porch shielding their eyes as we turned and headed south.
We had to refuel three times and each time seemed to eat up precious moments that I could be with Kate. Donnie pressed his lips together, strangely silent most of the ride. While we changed into our dress clothes at the small airport strip during the last refuel, Donnie finally spoke.
“Corey, I don’t understand how this is all happening. How can the village afford to send thirteen people on a jet plane and rent a private helicopter to get to your wife’s family funeral?”
I let out a huff as we left the hangar and strode out onto the tarmac. The helicopter wasn’t a rental. The company owned the chopper.
“I mean, I’m glad that we can all be there for Kate.”
“I guess I should tell you.” The chopper revved up and so did my sense of urgency. “Hey, let’s go.”
We ran to the helicopter, crawled inside, and the pilot whisked us away before we had our seat belts fastened. Donnie didn’t ask again and I didn’t volunteer the information. I think he chalked it up to stuff on my mind.
I had called Kate four times since we left the village, when we first got on the chopper, and at each fueling. We couldn’t hear over the blades of the chopper so we mostly texted back and forth. Her texts were one or two word replies and she sounded bad at the refueling stops. She was not doing well. She couldn’t seem to force words out.
Finally she texted, “Just get here.”
I watched the clock tick by on the phone and felt we were never going to get there. Donnie slept most of the ride. At 2:45, the pilot squawked in my ear, and asked where I wanted him to set down. I told him to get as close to the First Presbyterian church as he possibly could.
He consulted the other end of the radio and finally came back over the headphones. “There is a pad two blocks away.”
I ground my teeth together and texted Kate that we were very close. She didn’t respond.
We raced down five stories of the hospital where the helicopter landed and ran two blocks over to the church. We skidded to a stop at the front door, straightened our ties, smoothed our hair and entered the large arched front doors of the terracotta brick colonial styled building.
The music played a somber hymn and the seats were already full. Donnie spotted Mel and went to sit with her. I found the assistant funeral director, and he took me to Kate.
I walked into the formal family room and found her curled up in Trip’s lap, spasms shook her with each hitched breath. His eyes met mine and an unspoken challenge struck me. For a moment, I felt separate and other as I watched my best friend comfort my wife. I didn’t think he would relinquish her. But that fleeting thought seeped away as my heart broke for Kate. I knelt down in front of them.
“Kate, darling,” I whispered. She turned bleary eyes to me, hollowed out with sorrow. No recognition registered on her face, just intense sadness. Deep inside a world of grief, Kate existed with the other lost ones. Ghosts of family memories haunted the halls where she walked. Nothing real remained.
“Excuse me.”
I wrenched my attention from Kate’s face to see who would interfere. Kate’s dad frowned down at me. I recognized him from her jump experience.
“Mr. Wilson,” I stood and held out my hand. “I am so sorry for your loss.”
“Who are you, young man?”
“I’m Kate’s…uh…boyfriend.” The word stuck like cotton in my mouth. I couldn’t say what I truly meant to her, lover, husband, soul mate, thousand-year companion.
“Boyfriend?” He snapped his eyes to Trip, who just happened to be kissing Kate on the forehead at that moment.
She pressed into his chest seeking strength, solace.
“Yes, sir.”
He took me by the arm and dragged me to the door. “Listen, I don’t know what you think you are to Kate, but she has lost everything, everyone, and a silly crush isn’t going to help her right now. You meander in here at the last minute, seconds before the service starts and think you can what? Console her?”
He pointed over to Trip. “Young man, she has a boyfriend, right there, a real man who has been here with her every moment for the last two days. He has never left her side. She has never left his embrace. I don’t think any little date you have been on with her can compete with that. So thank you for coming to offer your condolences, I’m sure there is a seat for you in the back somewhere.” He opened the door and handed me out, then slammed the door in my face.
I didn’t know what to do. Kate needed me. Should I make a scene, storm back in there and claim my wife out of Trip’s possessive arms? No, not the time to do that, Kate seemed beyond the ability to recognize who held her. The way she clung to him reminded me of our last moments together. She had been desperate for me to stay, but put on a brave face.
What would happen if she came back to reality and found me missing? That made my decision. I opened the door and quietly stole into the room. The family lined up to go into the service. I slipped into line beside Kate and took her hand. Trip reluctantly released her but she grabbed at his hand, demanding he come with her.
She slowly scanned up to my face and a tiny flash of recognition registered before she returned to the world of ghosts and shadows. We walked into the large cathedral from a side door and four caskets lined up side by side sent a jolt through me. Flowers covered every space of wall and floor around them. My heart sank. Kate’s trembling progressed to a shudder and her legs gave way. Trip and I both held on tightly. Kate’s father, lost in his own grief, stared at the small silver casket.
Jimmy. Kate’s little brother.
“No,” Kate whispered. “No.” Her body wracked with anguish. Trip quickly wiped tears from his face, and I glanced away.
My jump family sat midway in the auditorium. Sorrow elongated their faces. We settled into the pew. Trip and I sat on either side of Kate. Her father gave me a scathing look, then drew a path from Kate’s hand clinging to mine to Kate’s other hand wrapped in Trip’s large paw.
He looked back up as the minister took the podium.
A marathon of heart wrenching moments, the service progressed. The line-up of caskets raked through the mind, violating all sense of rightness. A very present assault to the senses of the violence of loss
they represented. Four loved ones gone in a moment. Wrong. So very wrong.
My own parents died that way, suddenly. I’d flown to Italy to attend their funeral two years ago. They were practically strangers to me, though. We weren’t close. A nanny and staff raised me while they jetted around the world. So I couldn’t imagine how Kate felt. She, her mom, and brother were very tight. Grammy and Pops were iconic in her life.
I knew them intimately, though we had never met. Kate talked about them extensively in our pink clouds. She adored little Jimmy, felt protective of her mom, and cherished by her grandparents. Scanning the row of caskets, the hideous representation of the grief she bore, I determined to get her the best therapist and mental health care available. We were going to get through this. Together.
When the service ended, the funeral director opened the caskets and allowed the guests to walk by to view the bodies. One casket remained closed, Kate’s grandfather, his body too mangled to make viewable.
The funeral guests filed by the caskets, then out, and they closed the doors. Only family and Trip remained.
Kate’s dad stood up and approached me. “We will talk,” he growled. He took the elbow of his new wife, and they approached the smallest casket. Kate turned a confused expression to me, and I kissed her brow. We started at the other end with Kate shakily supported between us. Kate stopped at her grandfather’s casket and placed her cheek on the cool bronze metal.
“Pops? Pops?” she whimpered and ran her hands along the smooth surface. “Pops.” Her voice mutated on the last word. It deepened and yawned out of her, dredging raw sorrow up into her throat.
My soul ripped out of me to hear her so distraught. I would have done anything to trade places with her to take her agony into myself and hide it from her. I kept a hand on her arm and another around her waist, willing her pain to move into me.
We inched to the open casket of her grandmother. Kate lost it when she saw her. “Grammy, oh no.” Her knees buckled, and Trip and I steadied her. She calmed enough to lean forward over her grandmother. Shaking hands reached out and smoothed the lapels of her rose colored jacket. “I love you, Grammy.”
She patted the stiff mottled hands, then jerked her hands away and pressed her palms together. “I met the Beautiful One, Grammy. He is everything you said. I wanted to talk to you about him, but now I’ll never have that chance.” She bent over the body as sobs wracked her slight frame. Trip and I both closed in to support her between us.
She drew strength from our presence and stood up, hands still clasped and against her chin. Looking over the lid of the casket, she froze, face contorted in a grimace.
Anger flared, and she jerked backward. Pushing me aside, she stomped around to her mother’s casket, approaching her father. He bent over the body of her mother.
Kate shoved at his arm. “Get away from her!”
He jerked up, startled by her vehemence. Kate slapped him as hard as she could. “You don’t deserve a chance to say goodbye,” she wailed and shoved at him. I ran to her and she lost all strength, collapsing into my arms.
“Corey, Corey! I can’t stand it.”
Her father staggered back into a spray of flowers, knocking them over. Trip had run around behind him and steadied him from falling over.
“Nooo. Make him get away from her, Corey! Make him leave her alone!” She sobbed into my chest.
I caught Trip’s eye and jutted my chin toward the door. He clenched his jaw and turned to Kate’s father. “Sir, are you finished?”
Mr. Wilson straightened his posture and adjusted his jacket, then nodded curtly. He gazed at Kate over Trip’s shoulder. His face fractured into unfathomable loss, guilt, and grief. He broke down and wrapped his face in a hanky. His wife took his hand.
“Then let’s give Kate some time alone with them.” Trip escorted them to the door, handed him over to the funeral director, and shut the door behind them. He turned and fell into his familiar bouncer stance, guarding us.
Kate, hunched over her mother, reached down and touched her dress and then her hair. She spoke softly, cooing as she would to a child. She tucked something into her folded hands. Then she reached over and drew me to her side.
“This is my Corey. I wanted you to meet him. He is my husband, Mommy. He is going to take good care of me now.” Her voice splintered into a high-pitched whisper of a wail, and her knees buckled. I held her up and cradled her to my chest while she sobbed.
“Kate, my darling, Kate,” I whispered into her hair and kissed her temple. I could feel her pain, physically. It clamped my organs in a vice grip. I sent up a prayer for her strength.
She finally stilled into sighs and sniffs.
“Kate, love. Do you want to see Jimmy?”
She nodded. I directed her over to the small silver casket, careful to bear her weight as much as I could. People had tucked tiny treasures inside the casket. A Spider Man action figure, a Pokemon index, a bag of Skittles, and a Mario pin were among some of the things kindred had given as their final token.
Jimmy and Kate were as different as two siblings could be. Thick, bright, red hair topped a round beefy face dotted with freckles. To the degree that Kate appeared feminine and slight, he looked big for his age and all boy. Tears trickled down my face at this sweet life stolen so young. We were meant to have a lifetime together. I had always wanted a little brother, and I had anticipated spoiling this one rotten, bonding and building a life of security and love around Kate. That future evaporated in sorrow.
I watched Kate. She seemed almost serene as she gazed at her brother’s body. She placed her cheek against his little chest and began softly humming. I didn’t recognize the tune, a haunting lullaby in minor scales. Her hands trembled as she rearranged all of his treasures into safe little nooks and pockets, then reached into her own pocket and slipped something into his hands. “Goodbye, Jimmy-Jim-Jim.”
She stood up and braced herself on the edge of the casket. I pressed against her side and slid my arm around her waist. She transferred her dependence to me. We walked over to Trip and he escorted us to the waiting limo.
The graveside ceremony depleted us, odious and tragic. We stayed long after the other guests had left and watched butterflies flit around the flowers piled on the caskets. We sat in the grass and talked about how nice a spot her grandparents had chosen. They were buried in a family plot. Kate and I made plans to reserve the surrounding area and have it fenced in with a nice wrought iron gate and family marker. She thought they would like that. Trip, Tara, Donnie, and Mel stood under a nearby tree and waited until Kate had recovered enough to move onto the gathering.
The church had prepared a meal, so we all went back and met Kate’s family and friends. Kate stiffened when her dad came over to our table. She clenched my hand under the table.
“Who is your friend, Katie?”
She stared at the still full plate in front her and steeled her emotions. “Daddy, this is Corey Chastain, the love of my life.” She raised her eyes to mine, love and commitment glimmered there.
Her dad warmed up to me a little after that, but his focus slid back and forth between Trip and me in confusion.
The Chartreuse team left after the graveside ceremony. They were escorted back to the village by Dirk. Struck with the irony, I mulled over the fact that my 230 year old friends needed to be accompanied by my 22 year old friend as a legal guardian.
The Keepers stayed the night with us in a penthouse suite of a chain hotel owned by the same company that owned the village. Kate refused to go to her father’s house. Evidently, she hadn’t completely dealt with her anger on her jump. Complete forgiveness is an investment in time and determination.
The next morning as Kate lay awake in my arms, we stared at the blinking light of the smoke detector mounted on the ceiling. She whispered. “Take me home, Corey.”
“I’ll call a cab.” I reached to the bedside table for my phone. “What is your dad’s address?”
She took my face in her hands. “
Take me home to First Cabin.”
WE FLEW BACK on a commercial airline and set up house in First Cabin. Mama Ty and Dirk thought it would be best for the quest if Kate had some time to grieve before we jumped into our investigation of the Inner Circle. So we walked the hills hand in hand, fished in our private little pond, sat on the porch rockers and sipped lemonade. In addition to seeing a therapist, we kept up intense weapons training with Trip and Tara and that seemed to be as much therapy as the joint or individual sessions. At night we read the dossier files to the other Keepers, Trip, Tara, Mel, Donnie, and Dirk. We used the files to discuss each of the 12 scientists and professionals who made up the Inner Circle. We decided the more we knew about the people who collectively sourced the jumps, the easier it would be to reveal which one was the saboteur.
At times Kate would wander off alone, and I would find her in a fetal position by a tree crying, or sitting on a rock in a lone meadow staring into the ghostly past where memories stalked her.
I found her in the woods one day sitting in Trip’s lap sobbing into his chest as he stroked her hair and sang a soft song to her. I backed away and gave them some space, though my heart shrank.
I found them on a different day sitting in the rockers on the front porch, holding hands. Kate smiled at me and motioned for me to join them. She stood up, pushed me down into her rocker, then crawled into my lap before reaching for Trip’s hand again. I grinned, glad she didn’t try to hide it. Somehow it made it seem more platonic. Trip’s face turned bright red, though. I think he had the same thought but did not take comfort in it.
I wanted Kate to be whole. If Trip could help her along that path, then I couldn’t begrudge him for being willing to give of himself to my wife. Could I?
Secretly, though, I burned with jealousy. I wanted to be everything to Kate as she fulfilled me. I wanted her to take comfort only from me, and I wanted to be enough for her. I died a little every time I realized the draw Trip had on her, and his willingness to be her protector and strength.
The time finally came when Kate’s therapist released her to go on the jumps, and Kate agreed, eager to get on with it. The call came from Mama Ty, we were on green status. The jumps could start at any time, and Eunavae traveled across campus to bring us baked muffins from Kim. Eunavae would be the target jumper. We had decided in order to more fully control the jumps, we’d take one Chartreuse team member along on each jump. Since we had all had our own jump therapies, they would take a turn at being the target of the Inner Circle, allowing us to more fully observe the intricacies of how the perpetrator manipulated and sabotaged the jump. We hoped we could identify the infiltrator quicker this way.
The Keepers Book Two of the Holding Kate Series Page 6
