by Amy Gamet
As he stepped back, Julie made the smallest noise deep in her throat, a hum of disappointment. It was enough. He grabbed her, pinning her between his body and the barn as he kissed her forbidden lips with his own.
Lust was there, swift and hot, surprising him with its intensity. She returned his bruising kisses, her passion matching his as they climbed higher, each short of breath, pulses racing.
A loud banging noise startled them apart.
“What was that?” asked Hank.
“It sounded like the barn door slamming in the wind,” she said. “But I thought I latched it behind us.”
“You did. I saw you.”
Hank quickly grabbed the flashlight and pulled out his weapon. “Stay behind me.” Halfway back to the door they had come in, they heard the same slamming sound in the opposite direction.
“It’s the back door,” said Julie. “Not the one we came in.” The pair doubled back and walked around a stack of hay, suddenly greeted by an unexpected expanse of white. The open barn door moved slowly in the icy breeze, the snow-covered field beyond glittering in the moonlight as the wind howled ominously.
Clearly visible in the radiant snow was a trail of footprints, leading from the back door of the barn through the field for as far as the eye could see. Julie sank into a squat and bent her head between her knees.
Hank moved closer to the tracks and examined them in the light of his flashlight. “They’re recent, but they have about two inches of snow cover,” he said, considering. “What time did it stop snowing?”
Julie’s gaze dropped lower. “It had already stopped when I got the mail. Noon. Lunchtime.”
“So these were made this morning.”
“The snow cover might be from blowing snow. It’s windy.”
“The snow’s too wet. Feel it.”
Julie didn’t move from her crouch.
Hank knelt down next to her. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t know who made them?”
Julie licked her lips, swallowed. She shook her head. “Gwen and I are the only ones here.”
Hank’s mind raced, trying to make sense of the tracks. He stared off in the distance and saw another farmhouse, its windows lighted a warm gold in the evening darkness.
And he knew what the intruder had done.
“What time did your power go out?” he asked.
“Ten thirty.” Julie’s eyes followed his. “They got the generator, too. Didn’t they?”
“I think so.” Hank extended his hand. “Probably put something in the fuel. I could check but that would take time. We need to get out of here, Julie.”
She took the help he offered as she nodded. “I know,” she said, rising. “We’re taking Gwen with us.”
“I know.”
“And she’ll bring the damn dogs.”
“That’s okay.”
They retraced their steps back to the farmhouse, the wind biting at their hands and faces as they went. Her hand was nestled in the solid warmth of Hank’s, something he didn’t examine too closely.
“Hank?”
“Yeah?”
“I want to decode that message.”
“I know. It’s in my car. You can do it on the way.”
“Where are we going?”
“To a wedding.”
~~~
It took Julie and Gwen less than twenty minutes to gather what they needed and climb into Hank’s SUV. The dogs sat in the backseat with Gwen while Julie took the front, buckling her seat belt with a measure of relief. The irony that she should find comfort in the presence of a Navy officer was not lost on her, and she made a mental note not to trust this man completely.
The car smelled like Hank, and Julie inhaled his scent deep into her lungs. She might not trust him, but he smelled like a million bucks. If someone bottled that smell, they could control the entire female population.
“I had a feeling I wasn’t going to need those candles,” said Gwen.
The gate of the SUV slammed shut and Hank walked around to the driver’s side. Opening the door, he slid across the leather seat and handed Julie a yellow lined paper. “The message from the safe deposit box,” he said, reaching to buckle his seat belt.
Julie swallowed against a lump that suddenly formed in her throat. Gingerly she unfolded the single crease and gazed upon her father’s handwriting. She had gotten a glimpse of the cipher in her office, but now she had time to really look at what she held in her hands.
Recognition hit her like a blow as she touched the familiar letter shapes with her fingers. Her memory of her father had grown diluted in his absence, misshapen by the accusations that had led to his departure. Sometimes she didn’t know who he was anymore, or who he had ever been. The simple paper in her hand was like a snapshot of her real dad, sweet and strong.
Gone forever.
Her eyes burned.
“You recognize the handwriting,” said Hank.
Julie reached into the bag between her feet. “Yes,” she said quietly. She pulled out a spiral notebook and a pencil, never looking in Hank’s direction.
“It was like that with my David,” said Gwen thoughtfully. “The littlest thing, out of the blue, like a light in the darkness. Then I’d feel the pain all over again when I realized he was gone.”
Hank’s eyes in the rearview mirror were sympathetic. “Who was David?” he asked.
“My husband,” she said, smiling fondly. “It will be eleven years ago in January that he was killed in a skiing accident.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” Gwen sat up a little straighter. “Julie, Julie. Do you still remember how to crack those codes?”
“It’s been a long time,” she said. “I don’t know if it will come back to me.”
“That message is meant for you, Julie. Your daddy didn’t write that for anyone else. I’m sure you’ll know just what to do.”
Julie wished she had Gwen’s confidence in her abilities. Opening to a clean page in the notebook, she began writing.
“Can I ask what you’re doing?” said Hank.
“Counting letter frequencies.”
Hank cursed softly under his breath. “I forgot about Chip.” He pulled out his cell phone.
“Who’s Chip?” asked Julie.
“My buddy at the NSA. I asked him to run that through the computer.”
Julie’s wasn’t happy he had brought in a professional cryptographer. She was reminded once again that she and Hank had different objectives. “It won’t do any good.”
“So he told me.” Hank opened his cell phone and dialed. He left a message on Chip’s voicemail to call him back ASAP. “His wife is eight months pregnant with twins. Maybe she went into labor.”
Julie worked quietly as they drove, completing the frequency chart and looking for letter patterns. It was very basic work, but she had to start somewhere.
“Julie, I’m sorry to interrupt you,” said Hank.
“What is it?”
“I need to call my mother and tell her we’re on our way. I will tell her and my sister the truth, but I think it would be an easier visit if we have a cover story for everyone else.”
That sounded reasonable. “Okay.”
“So, I was thinking you could be my date for the wedding, and Gwen could be your aunt from Vermont who just happens to know my sister. Maybe that’s how we met—through your aunt and my sister.”
“I do some jewelry design,” piped Gwen from the backseat., “including wedding bands.”
“Perfect,” said Hank. “Actually, last I heard the wedding bands were MIA, so that might actually be true before we’re done here.”
“What a coincidence!” said Gwen, smiling from ear to ear. “It’s like serendipity. Don’t you just love when the universe aligns to make things happen?”
Julie turned around in her seat to glare at her aunt like she was insane. Gwen rewarded her effort with a wide grin, and Julie shook her head. To Hank, she asked
, “You want me to be your date for your sister’s wedding?”
“It seems like the easiest way to explain a stranger’s presence at a wedding, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I guess it is.” She turned back to her notebook. “Just don’t expect me to do the chicken dance at the reception.”
“We’re more of an electric slide kind of family.”
Julie stared at him blankly. “I really need to do this,” she said, holding up the notebook.
“Of course. Sorry.” A moment later, he slid his shoulders to the left in a wave-like motion.
“Boogie woogie woogie,” came Gwen’s high-pitched voice, earning her an appreciative chuckle from Hank.
“Really, Gwen?” said Julie.
“Oh, pooh, Julie. Fine, I’ll be quiet.”
The three of them cruised the rest of the way into the Adirondacks and New York State without another word.
~~~
It was just after nine o’clock, but it felt much later to Hank as he drove along the winding roads that snaked up the side of Moon Lake Mountain. He kept careful watch for deer and other wild animals, everyday hazards for those driving through the heavily wooded area. Tall pines flanked the road on either side, with the occasional mailbox denoting a home nestled somewhere behind the dense trees.
His mother had been so happy when he phoned to tell her he was coming after all, and he was just as excited as she was.
Beside him, Julie worked diligently in the dim light of the overhead reading lamp. Gwen had fallen asleep shortly after they stopped for coffee at a diner called the Truck Stop Inn, and Hank could hear faint snoring, though he wasn’t sure if it came from the woman or one of the dogs.
“I can’t stare at this anymore,” said Julie, closing the notebook and returning it to her bag on the floor. She took a long sip of cold coffee.
Hank shook his shoulders and grimaced. “I don’t know how you do that.”
“The code breaking?”
“Cold coffee. Gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Tough guy like you, bothered by a little cold coffee?” She smiled at him, her voice playful.
“It’s like kryptonite to Superman.”
“Did you really just call yourself Superman?”
Hank gave her his best offended look. “Not exactly. But I could be Superman.”
“Really.”
“Absolutely.”
“I don’t think so, hot shot Navy man.”
“Whoa, wait a minute. The similarities are downright eerie if you give me a chance.”
Julie laughed dismissively. “Well, there’s the cold coffee thing. I’d love to hear the other similarities.”
“Superman’s tall. I’m tall.”
“One.”
“Superman has dark hair.”
“This car ride just got a lot longer.”
“Superman loved his family, fought for right over wrong, and would do anything for Lois Lane.” He held up his fingers as he counted off his reasons.
“Ah, Lois. I was wondering about her. Why isn’t she your date for the wedding? Important assignment from the paper?”
“You were wondering if I had a girlfriend?” he asked, looking at her intensely, the slightest smile playing on the corners of his lips.
She looked like she swallowed a bug. “Not really. I was just playing along.”
“Playing along,” he agreed, nodding. “I see.” She was full of it, and the knowledge pleased him immensely. “There is no Lois. But someday when I find her, I will do anything for that woman.”
The smallest voice in the back of his head suggested he already had, which was ridiculous.
“How much farther to your mom’s house?”
“We’re almost there now.”
A wide right turn ended in one final hill as the SUV crested the highest point of the mountain. A wide vista opened before them, the light of the full moon clearly visible without the cover of the forest, Moon Lake glistening in the rays of its namesake.
“Beautiful,” she said softly.
Hank had been watching her, and silently agreed, but he was thinking nothing of the landscape and everything about the woman beside him.
“The house is up here another mile or two.”
“Great,” she said, rubbing her hands on her thighs. “Who’s going to be there?”
“My mom, Marianne. Tough as nails, with a soft side. You’ll like her.” If she likes you, he added to himself. His mother was not one to suffer fools gladly, but Hank wasn’t overly concerned. If anything, his mother would probably like Julie too much. That’s why he made sure to tell her that Julie was only pretending to be his girlfriend. “She took over the family business when my dad passed away a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
“What’s the family business?”
“Our first product was organic fruit soap. We’ve expanded over the years to include natural gardening products.”
“Wait, as in Uncle Billy’s Rockin’ Organic Fruit Soap?”
“That’s the one.”
Julie laughed. “Who came up with that name?”
“Kelly. My father thought it would be a fun family project to market it at the local Agway one summer. I designed the packaging, Norah wrote the copy. We never expected it to take off.”
“Who’s Norah?”
“My older sister. She’ll be there tonight, along with her husband Steve. She’s a professional cellist with the Boston Philharmonic; he teaches linguistics at Northeastern.”
“Any more brothers or sisters?”
“Nope. That’s the whole family.”
Julie rubbed her hands together. “Your mom is Marianne, Kelly’s marrying Ron, and Norah’s married to Steve.”
“Relax. You’ll be fine.”
“I’m not good with names. I make associations to remember them.”
“What do you mean?”
“I get pictures in my head that help me remember. Like your sister, Kelly. Kelly Ogden was my best friend in the fourth grade. So I picture her standing at the altar with Ronald McDonald.”
Hank knew that the polished and athletic Ron wouldn’t appreciate this game at all. “Go on.”
“For your sister, I picture Nora Roberts playing the cello on the back of one of her books.”
“Who’s Nora Roberts?”
Julie looked at him like he had blasphemed. “Just one of the best romance novel authors of all time, thank you very much.”
Hank raised his hands in mock surrender. “What about Steve?”
“The book with the cello is about a linguistics professor at Northeastern who falls for an older student. A music major. It’s very touching.”
“Is that a real book?”
“Of course not. Didn’t you hear me? I’m just trying to remember their names.”
He laughed at her absurd thought process. “Whatever works for you.” He slowed down as they drove alongside several hundred feet of stacked stone fence, then turned onto a driveway that meandered away from the road and back toward the lake. “This is it.”
Julie turned around and woke up Gwen, then watched as the tree-lined driveway opened to a wide, snow-covered lawn. The big house was a mixture of Tudor and log cabin styles, clearly one-of-a-kind in its design. There was a three-car detached garage and what looked to be a large screened porch off the side of the residence.
Hank pulled to a stop in the circular driveway. “Leave the bags. I’ll come out for them in a bit.” Julie opened her door and stepped out into the chilly night air.
The front door opened and a slender woman with long gray and black hair appeared under the porch light, some fifteen feet from the car.
Hank helped Julie with her bag as Gwen stepped out and stretched her legs. Raising his voice, he said, “Mom, I’d like you to meet Julie and Gwen Trueblood. Ladies, this is my mom.”
Julie swore quietly.
Hank realized her problem at once. He sang quietly, “
Sit right back and you’ll hear a tale, a tale of a mighty ship…”
Chapter 4
“And this is where you and Julie will be staying,” said Marianne, opening the door to a single bedroom with a queen size bed and its own bathroom. Julie’s cheeks heated as she thought about sharing that bed with Hank.
Hank spoke in a low voice. “Ma, I told you it’s not like that.”
“I understand that, dear. But this is Kelly’s wedding weekend and we have a full house. I had to do some rearranging to get you a room at all. Gwen has to sleep in the office with cousin Josie on the last air mattress. This,” she said, gesturing to the red and gold guest room, “is the best I can do. There are clean towels in the bathroom closet and an extra blanket in the chest,” she said firmly, walking away.
“I’m sorry,” Hank said to Julie. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Damn straight, you will.”
“Come on. I’ll introduce you around.”
Julie looked around the room, wishing she could barricade herself within it. “Do you have to?”
He looked at her quizzically. “What’s wrong?”
“What if someone asks how we met, or something else I don’t have an answer for?”
“Lie.”
“I’m a terrible liar.”
“Well, then, this should be good practice for you.” He steered her toward the stairs, almost running into his sister.
“There you are. Ron and I would like to say a few words before everyone heads out,” she said, gesturing downstairs. The rehearsal dinner ended shortly before Hank and Julie arrived, and close members of the family were still congregated at the house.
Julie begrudgingly followed Hank down the stairs, and took her place next to him in the entranceway between the foyer and living room.
Kelly and Ron made a striking couple. She was petite, with the same honeyed skin as her brother and dark hair that fell in lustrous waves down her back. Ron was much taller and quite muscular, like a model or fitness trainer. His head was completely bald and shiny, his kind and handsome face suggesting he might have been a blonde or a redhead at one time.
“We want each of you to know what it means to us that you’re here to share in our wedding. I wasn’t sure this day would ever come,” she said, garnering a laugh from those who knew the couple well, “and well, we just wanted to say thank you.”
