by Peter Parkin
He parked his Mercedes about 250 feet away. He and Fiona got out and walked, both absorbed in their own thoughts.
Fiona held onto Dennis' arm. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. A little sad and a lot ashamed—but I'll get over it."
Dennis suddenly stopped walking and wrapped his arms around Fiona, hugging her hard. Then he pulled his head back and kissed her. He smiled at her. "You're doing it to me again. You haven't told me everything yet."
Fiona lowered her eyes. "Denny, I don't know what to make of this part. There was one person who popped up in the itineraries as having made two trips to Nevis—the first one ten years ago, and the other one five years ago. The notation beside this person's name on the first trip said, 'Execution of Shackleton contract.' The second trip showed 'Renewal of Shackleton contract.' The person's name was 'B. Jenkins.'"
Dennis caught his breath and felt the knot in his stomach getting tighter. "It must be someone else. Someone on the Pentagon staff."
Fiona shook her head. "I did an exhaustive search through the tens of thousands of Pentagon employees. The 'Barb' we know is retired now. But other than her there are, and were, no other 'B. Jenkins' working at the Pentagon; in fact, not even anyone with the last name 'Jenkins.'"
Dennis grabbed hold of Fiona's hand and squeezed it, then pulled her gently in the direction of the cabin. They still had 100 feet to go. He said softly, "We'll just have to ask her. There has to be a logical explanation."
The two lovers walked in silence the rest of the way to the neglected cabin on the cliff.
Neither of them could have known that every word they said had been listened to by a handsome, well-dressed man sitting in run-down pickup truck 1,000 feet away.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
Dennis took a deep breath, pulled the old skeleton key out of his pocket and unlocked the front door. It creaked as he expected it would—in fact, it had always creaked. A childhood memory. One that calmed him.
He led the way inside, with Fiona holding on tight to his belt from behind. The furniture was in the same spots as he remembered—now all covered with white sheets. The old upright piano was the only furniture not covered—Dennis wondered why.
As they walked through the living room, their faces were bombarded with spiders and their webs. Fiona was making some disgusting noises as Dennis swatted away in front, trying to clear a path.
He stopped at the entrance to the dining room. Fiona rubbed his shoulder.
"What's wrong, Denny?"
He wiped away a tear from his eye. "Nothing's wrong. And everything's wrong. I can hear voices, see the smiles, I can see myself laughing along with everyone else. We used to have so many wonderful meals in this room— Christmas time, Easter time, any time. It was just wonderful."
Fiona hugged him from behind and nestled her cheek in between his shoulder blades. "Memories are sad sometimes. But they were obviously nice ones. Worth holding onto and shedding a tear for."
Dennis nodded and forced himself to turn away from the ghosts of the formal dining room. The ghosts seemed so real to him—the energy in that room had been palpable.
Suddenly, the front door opened again and in bounced Barb. She smiled her million-dollar smile as she gazed around the room. "Well, I guess I don't have to take my shoes off in here, eh?"
"No, I think we'll let you off the hook this time." Dennis walked over and gave her a hug. Fiona followed suit, but her hug wasn't quite as affectionate.
Barb gave her a strange look as Fiona turned away.
"I get the feeling I interrupted something. Did I walk in on a deep conversation between you two."
Dennis winced. "No, but there is something I need to ask you about once this business is over with today. No big deal—I'm sure you'll have a logical answer for me."
"Well, now I'm intrigued. Are you really going to keep me waiting? You know I don't like to be teased, Denny."
Dennis put his arm around Fiona's shoulder as they both stared at Barb. He knew that they were both having a tough time keeping the look of suspicion off their faces. "We'll wait. More important things for us to do here right now. I suggest we head upstairs to make sure we're out of sight by the time Mel and the lawyer get here. He's insisted that Mel wait in the car, but he doesn't know we're here. We'll surprise him at the right moment."
Dennis led the way to the second floor and to the front bedroom, which used to be his. Its window looked out to the street, so they could easily see when Mel and Sydney arrived.
Dennis couldn't resist—his old bed was still in the room. He plunked down on the edge and then stretched his seventy-four-inch frame out along the length of the mattress. As a boy, he remembered thinking that this bed was huge, but now his feet hung well out over the end. However, the feeling of comfort that he used to get as a child was still embedded in the old mattress. He could feel the indent that his body had left as a permanent souvenir of his presence. It was a strange sensation he was feeling at that very moment.
"They're here!" Fiona was peering through the blinds. "But it looks like they each brought their own cars. Sydney probably wants to just do his duty and get back to the city. No time for watching Mel walk down memory lane."
Dennis walked over and peeked through the blinds too. He watched Mel and Sydney walk up the front steps together. Sydney Fox looked very lawyerly—expensive slacks, designer golf shirt. He was a skinny guy, but he walked like someone who was still athletic. A certain confidence about him. Dennis figured he was in his late seventies now, but he still resembled the man he had met a long time ago.
Dennis whispered, "Mel has to use her key to let Sydney in. Did you remember to lock the door behind you when you came in, Barb?"
She whispered back. "Yes, Denny. Don't worry."
They heard the key in the lock, and then Dennis watched Melissa walking back down the steps to her car. She was obeying the instructions of the will to the letter.
Footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor in the living room, and they could tell the steps were moving from the front door to the far north wall of the living room. Right beneath where they were standing.
Silence.
Now a scratching noise. Followed by a creaking sound. Dennis knew what this was. A screwdriver was being used on stubborn screws that hadn't been turned in an awful long time.
He motioned with his index finger to the two ladies and tiptoed out into the hallway. Barb and Fiona were close behind. Dennis held onto the railing and slowly led the way down the grand staircase. It wasn't so grand anymore, but at one time it had been downright regal.
Reaching the foot of the stairs, he held his finger up in front of his mouth and pointed to the living room doorway. Slowly, carefully, step by cautious step, the three of them made their way into the huge lounge.
Dennis motioned with his hand behind his back and they all stopped in their tracks. Each of them watched the old lawyer kneeling on the floor with a single hardwood panel in his hand.
Dennis broke the silence. "Mr. Fox, what are you doing?"
Sydney whirled around, clearly shocked by the sound of a voice in the gloomy old house. He laid the wood panel onto the floor and struggled to his feet.
"Oh, it's you, Dennis. You gave me a start." Sydney shoved his eyeglasses further up his nose.
"Yes, it's me. Why are you ripping up our floorboards?"
Sydney got to his feet. "I'm sure Mel has told you the conditions of the will and the instructions your mother had pertaining to this house. Between your mom and me, there was something she wanted me to recover from the house after she died. I knew where to find it. She didn't want either of you to know about it until she died. She thought it was safer that you didn't know. So only I knew where this was."
"Where what was?"
"Go and get your sister, Dennis. It's okay for her to come in now. I've done my job."
Dennis opened the front door and motioned for Mel to come in. She didn't hesitate for a second. As she came swooping in the front doo
r, Denny swung his sister around and gave her a big hug, just like he used to do when they were kids.
Sydney smiled as he watched them. "You both know that I'll arrange to have the house put on the market, and I'll leave it to the two of you to figure out what your mom wanted you to know.
"By the way, she also had a separate document of instructions to me, an envelope that has been sealed for thirty-four years that was not to be opened unless both of you were deceased at the time of me recovering this from the house. It's safely tucked away in my office safe. The rule on that envelope from Lucy says that if either one of you is still alive, it must be destroyed without being opened, exactly two weeks after I've recovered this thing from the house and passed it over to you. Unless—and this is important—unless you or Melissa advise me to open it and follow the instructions inside.
"So, the clock has started—you have two weeks to decide what you want me to do. Your mom hid this here back in 1978 before she retired, and at the same time gave me the envelope with the separate instructions. So, she obviously went to great pains to protect it."
Dennis frowned. "So, what is it?"
Sydney hooked his index finger and turned back to the gaping opening in the floor. The four of them walked over and looked down.
Barb scoffed. "It's just a hole."
"No, look at the floorboard I removed—not the opening."
Dennis picked up the board and stared at it. "Jesus!"
Mel grabbed his arm. "What! What do you see?"
Dennis took the board over to the window and opened the blinds.
"It's easy to see now. Black ink. A message written on the underside of the board in mom's perfect handwriting. Without direct light, no one would ever notice the writing. Mom was smart—if someone ripped up the floor looking for this, they probably wouldn't think to look at the wood itself. They'd be obsessed with looking down into the dark airspace."
Fiona wrung her hands together. "Dennis, you're driving us crazy! What does it say?"
Dennis looked up and smiled. "I'll read it to you."
Sydney Fox raised his hand. "Don't read it aloud in my presence, Dennis.
I'm going to leave you all to this now. I've done my job. I was supposed to do three things: protect the secret; not burden you and Mel with it for the last three decades; and then recover it. I don't know what it is and I didn't read it. All you have to do now is watch the clock—in two weeks' time her other envelope will be destroyed if I don't hear from either of you. Okay? Understand?"
Mel and Dennis both nodded, then Sydney bid his goodbyes.
Dennis adjusted the window blinds and turned his attention back to the floorboard.
"Okay, I'll read it aloud now."
Dear Denny and Mel: If you're reading this, then I have passed away. I hope you're both doing well, and I'm glad that Sydney was able to attract you back to this lovely summer home. Your dad and I just loved this place, as you know, and we remember so many lovely times here with you kids. We did have fun, didn't we?
There are so many memories that it's impossible to list them all. All I can hope for is that the two of you treasure those memories. Memories are the most important things we own. We create them, cherish them, and remind ourselves of them. Memories are life itself.
I'm sitting here writing this note to you, and you can appreciate that it's not easy at all writing on hardwood but I'm doing my best. I hope you can read this clearly. As I sit here I have the urge to just encapsulate all our memories on this piece of wood, but the wood isn't long enough and neither is my life! There are far too many.
All I ask of you—and do this for your mother—is if you take anything at all from this house, please take those times we had. Cherish them like I did. This was and still is a very special place.
All my love, Your mom.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
"That tells us nothing at all. Is that all this is supposed to be? A love letter from your mom?"
Dennis looked up from the piece of wood and glared at Barb. "If this is all there is, then I'm okay with that, Barb. This is our mother talking and it's precious to us."
"But there has to be more! All that we've gone through, all that business Lucy was spouting about a package. The other things she was blurting out. We know all of that has to mean something!"
Mel turned to Barb and pointed at her. "Shut up, Barb. We can't think properly with you shouting. And remember, this note is to Denny and me— not you. This whole subject is ours, not yours or Fiona's. You're both just here because you're friends. That's the only reason you're here."
Barb's expression instantly changed. "I'm sorry. You're right. I guess my impatience with this whole ordeal is showing."
Denny walked over to Barb and gave her a hug. "It's okay. We're all a bit on edge. And admittedly, we all had higher expectations. And you're right, Barb. It's hard to believe that this is all there is."
Barb hugged him back. "Okay, now that we're all friends again, I suggest we chill and get something to eat—and maybe a drink or two? We can talk about this mystery some more there. There's a great restaurant about twenty minutes up the road, at the Chesapeake Beach Inn. It's 7:30 now, so it shouldn't be too busy by the time we get there. My treat."
They all nodded agreement. Fiona opened her purse and took out a legal pad and pen. "Denny, before we go I'm going to copy down that note from your mom—I'll do it exactly as she wrote it, spacing, everything."
*****
Brett waited in his pickup truck until all three cars had made their way a few miles north before he pulled out to follow. He loved this old truck—the windows had such a dark tint he was virtually invisible from the outside. Which was a good thing—not too many men who were dressed in Saville Row suits drove trucks like this one.
It had a huge storage bed with a roll cover that was extremely useful when he had to throw things...or bodies...in for a haul. This truck had seen a lot of action over the years. He saved his Audi S5 for the classy James Bondy type assignments, and he had a few of those from time to time. The Audi always blended in quite nicely at embassy dinners, movie premieres, and business conventions.
He'd listened to the entire conversation—right back to Sydney Fox. So far, Brett knew at least everything they did and of course he also knew a lot more than that from all the investigative work he'd already done on his own—and of course with handy Randy's help.
Brett followed behind at a safe distance. Dennis and Fiona were in the Mercedes, Melissa was driving a nice conservative Toyota Camry, and Barb... Barb was driving a Ford Lexington motorhome with blackened windows.
Brett was already convinced that Barb was his 'double,' he had no doubts about that. The information that Fiona had been able to pull up on her boss' computer convinced him of that. Brett had been listening to Dennis and Fiona discussing that as they walked toward the cabin. He heard it all as clear as day. And Barb's reaction to the letter was the icing on the cake. She was too anxious, too eager, too frustrated.
And he wondered...why did she need that big motorhome?
*****
They each ordered sandwiches, salads and soup...and a bottle of wine to share between them. The place was empty, so they were able to get a nice table by the window overlooking the parking lot—and beyond, one of Chesapeake's famous cliffs.
Dennis glanced out the window. That darn pickup truck was here at the restaurant now. At least it looked like the same one—blackened windows, beat up chassis. He wondered...
Fiona stole his attention away from the window by reading aloud the note from Lucy once again, slowly, deliberately. She emphasized each word that seemed as if it might mean something, seemed out of place perhaps.
Dennis looked over at Mel. She shook her head. They were both drawing blanks.
Barb spoke up—carefully choosing her words it seemed. Dennis thought that she was no doubt worried about another outburst from Mel.
"I know someone who could take a look at this for us. He used to be a decod
ing expert with the FBI. If you give me that note, I'll be glad to talk to him for us."
Mel put her elbows on the table and leaned in Barb's direction. "Let's get this straight, Barb. There is no 'us' where you're concerned. The only 'us' at this table is Denny and I. Got that?"
Denny used this as his opening. "It's okay, Mel. Calm down—she was just offering to help us out and it may be a resource we can use."
He then turned his head to Barb. "Barb, changing the subject for a bit to a more pleasant topic, I know you've traveled a lot. Fiona and I want to go on a little getaway. We've done some research and I thought that maybe you've been to this island before. Ever traveled to Nevis down in the Caribbean?"
For just a millisecond Dennis thought he saw a flash of fear in Barb's eyes. But maybe he was just looking for that. Whatever, it didn't last long and if she did show something, she recovered quickly.
She smiled warmly and said, "Oh, that's so sweet. And you're in luck— yes, I have been there. Twice. The first time was about...ten years ago. I went down there to take care of some contract work between our government, some bio-med companies and the St. Kitts/Nevis government. And I went back again just before I retired to take care of the renewal of that contract. It's beautiful there. You both would love it. Princess Di used to hang out there."
Fiona shifted in her chair. Denny looked at her sharply, hushing her silently. He could tell she wanted to probe more on this.
Mel suddenly spoke up. "We're going to finish our meal and go back to that house! I'm not leaving today until I've checked every nook and cranny. Every tree trunk and every bush."
Denny grinned. "That's my big sis. You never give up. I agree. Let's go back there and finish this."
Barb suddenly reached into her purse and pulled out her cellphone. She read the screen. "I'm so sorry, folks. I have to go. A bit of an emergency with a friend of mine—she's going through a divorce and it just took a turn for the worse. Forgive me?"
