Dead of Spring: An Alexa Williams Novel

by Sherry Knowlton

  “Yeah. I got the tour after a meeting with the lieutenant governor a few years back. We’re better out here than inside. We’re not in the line of fire if Nason Kurtz or his lackey try to shoot through that glass entry door out front. The only access to the balcony is through one of the offices in this suite. And, if worse comes to worse, we could jump.”

  Alexa walked to the side and looked down with a skeptical tilt of her head. “Not so sure about that last one.”

  “Let’s try to stay out of sight.” Walt beckoned Alexa to the blanket he’d spread right beneath the door. He had closed the door behind them, leaving just a small opening so they could listen for activity in the office―although the clamor of the fire trucks and the fire alarm made it difficult to hear much of anything.

  Alexa sank down onto blanket and leaned her back against the wall. She felt the rough wall scrape against her Armani jacket and sighed. But what did it matter? Her suit was already ruined. “I should have never dressed to impress that committee,” Alexa muttered under her breath.

  “What?” Walt said.

  “Nothing. Lucky for us that entrance door was propped open. Weird though.”

  “You saw the bucket and the sweeper? I bet someone was cleaning the office and stepped away.”

  “Or ran away when they heard gunshots,” Alexa speculated. Then she returned to an earlier remark he’d made. “You recognized Nason Kurtz?”

  “Of course. He and his boss lobby for Monongas. As minority chair of the House Energy Committee, they’re always beating a path to my door. I’m not their favorite legislator since I rarely vote the way they want. But they never tried to kill me until I started hanging out with you.” Walt summoned a tired smile.

  “I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. I suspect they murdered Senator Martinelli. Actually, this past hour, with Nason Kurtz hell bent on killing me; that sort of erases any lingering doubts. When you got involved, they had to kill you too.”

  “Think of me as the bonus round,” Walt quipped.

  Alexa tried to muffle her laughter. “We just ran about ten miles, dodged gunfire, and our fate is still up in the air. How can you laugh?”

  “Gallows humor. They teach that early in the Marines. Hey, can you help me with this?” Walt pointed to the towel wrapped around his arm. “I thought I’d been nicked by a chunk of marble or something. But it was bleeding pretty good on that last run down the hall. I might have taken a bullet. Just a flesh wound.”

  Alexa gasped. “Take off your coat.” She unwrapped the towel so Walt could slip his arm out of his suit jacket. His light blue shirt was soaked red above his elbow. In the waning light, Alexa could see a tear in the shirt. “I’m not going to mess with that. It’s not bleeding too badly. I’ll just tie this right over the wound.” After she adjusted the makeshift bandage, Alexa plucked the blanket from the floor and placed it over Walt. “I don’t want you going into shock.”

  Walt grimaced and said, “I’m more worried about what my wife’s going to say. She got this shirt from some fancy tailor on a trip to New York City.”

  “I’m sure your wife will look at the bigger picture,” Alexa reassured him.

  Walt held Alexa’s eyes with a steady gaze. “I’m afraid she might do just that.”

  Alexa looked away. She felt more comfortable with this man than anyone since Reese. Earlier, she’d had a few passing qualms about Walt, but she’d been letting fear cloud her judgment. After that, Alexa had trusted him to guide her to safety. She’d never forget how he’d risked his life for her without hesitation. But she was not about to fall for a married man. She might be vulnerable from John’s death, but not that vulnerable. In any case, she didn’t think Walt Jordan was the kind of guy who’d cheat on his wife.

  “Well, emotions can run high in life and death situations.” Alexa took a deep breath. “You know I can’t thank you enough. I’d be dead now without you.”

  “Anything for a fellow environmental warrior.” Walt closed his eyes in pain. “And, when you’re a Marine, the training just kicks in.” He rummaged through his jacket and withdrew the gun he’d taken from Kurtz. “I checked. There are only two bullets left, but if I pass out, don’t hesitate to use it on Kurtz or his bent cop friend.” He shivered. “I’m a little worried that the cop could be spinning some story that paints us as the bad guys. But, drop the gun if the police come. We don’t want any confrontation with them.”

  “That’s why I wanted Detective Marshall here. He’s from outside the State structure.” Alexa gave Walt a worried look. He seemed to be fading. Although she was certain the bullet wound wasn’t life threatening, blood loss and shock were real concerns. She folded her body against Walt for warmth. She chattered on, picking up on his earlier comment in an attempt to keep Walt awake. “I don’t think of myself as an environmental warrior. I might think fracking sucks, but all I’ve been doing is helping out a friend.”

  “It’s more than that, Alexa. You’ve got a bit of the crusader in you. You want to right the wrongs of the world, and fracking’s one of them. That’s admirable.” He paused. “Did I ever tell you about my father?”

  “No, I heard he was involved in the environmental movement?”

  “He gave his life for the environment. He died when I was quite young, so I barely remember him. My mother hated his activism with a passion. It broke up their marriage. After that, she took me away to her home in Tioga County. She remarried, and her new husband adopted me. They changed my last name to Jordan, like she wanted to wipe out any connection to my father. When I asked about him, she would call him a worthless dreamer. Eventually, I stopped asking.”

  Walt’s voice was weakening, so Alexa leaned close to hear. “That must have been tough.”

  “Not really. My new dad was a great guy, so I didn’t miss out on having a father. But, when I went to college after the Marines, I did a paper on nuclear energy. Imagine my shock when I read that Will Armstrong was one of the legends of the anti-nuclear movement in the seventies and eighties. He was killed at a protest against a nuclear power plant out west.

  “When I confronted my mother, she showed me a scrapbook she’d made about his protest activities. And she told me it all began when I was born during the Three Mile Island disaster.”

  “So this anti-fracking crusade is in your genes?” Alexa smiled.

  “I’ll tell you one more secret.” Walt nodded off and then opened his eyes.

  “You were going to tell me a secret,” Alexa prodded.

  “My real name is Walden. My dad named me for Thoreau’s pond. But Mom changed it to Walt.” He watched as if waiting for her reaction.

  “Walden.” Alexa let it roll off her tongue. Her eyes softened. “I like it.”

  “OK, now that we’re sharing secrets, tell me about Carmine Martinelli’s death. I heard a lot of speculation about witnesses, but I don’t put much stock in the rumor mill.” Walt’s voice lowered in concern. “You were there?”

  “I was meeting with Keisha Washington in the rotunda. A group of men had an argument on one of the upper floors. Then, the senator’s body hit the floor at our feet.”

  “FUBAR.”

  “You’ve got that right. I found out later that the senator was one of the men who were arguing. I didn’t recognize any of the other voices until this afternoon when Walker Toland testified.”

  “I miss Carmine. You may not know. He’d changed his position on fracking. One of his grandkids has cystic fibrosis. It can be exac . . . exacerbated by air pollution.” Walt’s voice faltered. “The studies about increases in methane from fracking turned the old bastard around one hundred percent. No more drilling in parks. Anywhere.

  “We talked about his change in position.” Walt closed his eyes but kept talking. His voice sounded paper-thin. “Creepy. Day after he died, I got a letter in interoffice mail. From Carmine. He was all philosophical, taking stock, couldn’t support fracking on grounds. Moral grounds.”

  Alexa sat up straight. “It sounds like th
e one on his computer when he died. At first, the cops viewed it as a suicide note.”

  “Yeah, cops asked me.” Walt fell silent for a few minutes. “Bet Toland knew Carmine changed.” He mumbled, “That’s why. Killed him.”

  “The stakes are that high?”

  “Absolutely . . .” Walt’s voice trailed off.

  As Alexa watched, he collapsed against the wall. “Walt? Walt?” She touched his cheek. He’d passed out, but Alexa had bigger things to worry about. Outside the office, someone was banging on the door. Alexa rose and crept to the next bank of windows where she could see the shadows of several men silhouetted against the closed blinds of the lieutenant governor’s door. She scurried back to the french door and slipped inside. As she removed the chair wedged against the door of the Ladies’ Lounge, the pounding resumed. Then a deep voice boomed, “Alexa. Please open up. This is Detective Marshall from the Dauphin County Criminal Investigations Division.”

  Alexa’s knees went weak in relief. She walked through the center office and opened the door. “Representative Jordan needs medical help. He’s out on the balcony.” She led them to the balcony through the open door.

  Minutes later, when Detective Marshall appeared on the balcony, Alexa had to hold back from throwing herself into his arms. The detective said, “I have a lot of questions for you.”

  “Fine, fine, but not until we get Walt to the hospital.” Alexa went back to sit with the legislator while the lieutenant governor’s office suite turned into a beehive of activity. Officers wound yellow tape around the perimeter and searched the inner rooms of the suite.

  Marshall said, “The paramedics should be here in a few minutes. There’s an ambulance already on site at the capitol as part of the fire alarm response. We have taken Nason Kurtz and Dale Hoover into custody for assaulting you and Representative Jordan.”

  “Is Dale Hoover the capitol policeman?”

  “Yes. Although, I suspect his job is now in serious jeopardy.” Marshall clenched his jaw.

  “I’m not sure who shot the woman cop, but I think he shot the man. Did either of them survive?”

  The detective shook his head, his expression somber.

  “That’s right.” Alexa remembered the gun lying on the floor and pointed to it. “That belongs to Kurtz. Walt took it after he clobbered him with a fire extinguisher. It’s still loaded.”

  Marshall summoned a uniformed policeman to process the gun as the paramedics arrived. Walt roused when they were placing him on the gurney. “Alexa, are you OK?”

  “I’m fine. They’re going to take you to the hospital.”

  “Can you come along?” Walt reached for Alexa’s hand.

  She patted his good shoulder. “These people will take good care of you.”

  Behind her, the detective said, “We need Ms. Williams here to answer our questions.”

  “Can someone call my wife and tell her what happened? She’s expecting me home tonight.”

  “Phone number?”

  “It’s in my cell . . .”

  “That’s back in the hearing room,” Alexa reminded him.

  “Right.” Walt recited a number.

  “We need to get Mr. Jordan to the hospital,” one of the paramedics interrupted.

  “Go,” the detective ordered.

  “I’ll check in with you, Walt,” Alexa called as they rolled him away.

  “How about we find a quieter place to talk,” the detective suggested and moved toward the window.

  Several hours later, Alexa left the capitol and stopped by Harrisburg Hospital. She didn’t want to think about how bedraggled she must look. At least the police had retrieved her shoes. After some pleading, the nurses allowed her to look in on Walt. Alexa paused at the door of his private room to determine if he was awake. She wrinkled her nose at the familiar hospital smell, eau de chemicals and floor wax.

  “Come on in.” Walt sat against the pillows, with the head of his bed elevated. Several IVs ran into a patch on his left hand. Behind him a humming monitor flashed a series of digital numbers across a screen.

  “You’re on a medical floor, not ICU. That seems like a good sign.” Alexa moved to stand by the bed. The room was dim, lit by a single lamp on the nightstand.

  “I’m fine. The bullet just grazed me. The doc cleaned it out and put in a few stitches. My biggest problem was the loss of blood. But they say I’ll be fine. I could even go home tomorrow.” Walt gave a faint smile.

  “Has your wife arrived?” Out in the corridor something crashed, and Alexa shot a guilty look toward the door. She felt responsible for Walt getting shot and more. She wasn’t up for a distraught wife asking questions about the woman standing by her injured husband’s bedside.

  “She’s on her way. After they stitched me up, I reached Sandy on her cell and calmed her down. They say she can bunk here with me.” Walt nodded toward the corner. “Apparently that chair turns into a bed.”

  “I’ll get out of here and let you sleep. I just wanted to check on you.” Alexa backed toward the door.

  “Not yet,” Walt exclaimed in a stronger voice. “You have to tell me what happened. Did they arrest Kurtz and his sidekick?”

  Alexa stopped her retreat and walked back to the bed. “Yes. Both of them were still in the capitol when the firemen and a contingent of capitol cops arrived in response to the fire alarm. They arrested Nason Kurtz and the other guy, a capitol cop. His name is Dale Hoover. Both of the cops on duty at the door died. So, Kurtz and Hoover are facing multiple charges just for tonight. Murder. Attempted murder. Probably a lot more when the DA is done. Those guys shot up the capitol building. Who knows what State treasures they may have destroyed.”

  “What about Toland?” Walt grimaced as he shifted higher on the pillows.

  “Walker Toland will be arrested and charged with the murder of Senator Carmine Martinelli. Detective Marshall plans to question Keisha Washington about her role as an accessory after the fact. I’m not sure why she threw in with them, but Keisha has a driving ambition. Executive director was her dream job. Maybe she just didn’t want to jeopardize her shot at the position, then got in too deep.” Alexa shook her head with a puzzled expression.

  “I also told the detective about Lauren Hildebrand’s death. I could be reaching here. But when she interned with Keisha, she had a run in with two men. I overheard part of it. I think one of the men was Nason Kurtz. The other was Senator Patterson.”

  “Patterson?” Surprise showed in Walt’s voice. “I didn’t think that pipsqueak had the balls to get in trouble. He’s on Energy too. He was there today.” He paused. “I guess it’s still today.” Walt glanced at a clock on the wall.

  “Yeah. But, it’s almost midnight.” Alexa sank into the chair next to the bed. “Lauren told me she’d learned about something illegal related to a fracking bill. She died before she could tell me any of the details. The Harrisburg police called her death accidental, but it could be related to all of this―maybe Lauren learned who was behind Senator Martinelli’s death.”

  “What some people will do for greed. You know they weren’t doing this on their own. They were doing this for Monongas. How much do you want to bet that Monongas will walk away from this scot-free?”

  “I hope not, but I’ve grown cynical in my old age.”

  Walt laughed and then grimaced at the pain. “How old are you? Thirty?”

  “Now I’m leaving.” Alexa smiled and rose to her feet. “You need to rest. And I need to get home.”

  Walt sighed. “You know, I was lying here thinking. The last time I stayed in this hospital was when I was born. Just a few miles down the river, Three Mile Island was in danger of a total meltdown. Here we are, almost forty years later, and we’re still in thrall to dangerous energy sources. It’s a love-hate relationship in many ways. I’m as addicted as the next guy to lights and heat and phones and electric tools. But there’s a price to pay for all that energy. TMI is still chugging away out there on the river. Coal and oil have helped pr
opel climate change. And God only knows about the long-term effects of fracking.”

  “Keep up the good fight, Walt. But you’ve done enough for one night to battle the fracking industry. If we’re lucky, this scandal will erase any chance of Senate Bill 5100 passing.” Alexa leaned over to touch Walt’s hand with a soft smile. “Thanks for saving my life tonight, Walden.”

  Closing his hand over hers, he whispered, “I should be thanking you.” With a start he released her hand and broke into an infectious grin. “I definitely want you on my side when the Martians invade.”

  Giggling, Alexa instructed, “Good night. Get some rest.” Her hand tingled as she hurried out of the room. She felt physically drained from both the exhausting brush with death in the capitol and the conflicting emotions she felt for Walt.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  As the plane left the runway at Harrisburg International Airport, Alexa looked out the window at the cooling towers of Three Mile Island below and thought of Walt’s father, fighting for safe energy. For a moment her excitement at this upcoming trip dimmed. On the energy front, even as things changed, much stayed the same. Turning away from the window, she shrugged off her gloom and looked forward to Italy.

  “I am so glad to be here and finally see this Italian villa,” Alexa told her parents hours later, amid hugs.

  “Well, you’ll have to wait until Monday. We couldn’t let you bypass Florence on your first trip here. So we’re staying here tonight and tomorrow night before we drive to Umbria,” Norris announced.

  “Are you too tired to do some sightseeing today?” Susan asked with an anxious look. “We’ve been so worried about you. We want to hear everything that’s happened.”

  “I got some decent sleep on the plane. I’d love to see Florence. Let’s talk about the capitol thing later. As you can see, I’m fine.”

  “Now we’ve seen for ourselves that you’re unharmed, we can wait to hear the details.” He shot a glance at Susan. “How about we drop your bag off at our hotel? We came up to the city last night.” Norris took over Alexa’s rolling suitcase and headed toward an exit.