by Lee Perry
She put down the glass of brandy on a side table and followed him to the door where he paused with his hand on the handle,
“Alex,” he said softly, “it’s your decision; I’d like you to stay, work for me and make more money than you could ever dream of in your wildest dreams. But if you’d rather not,” he shrugged, “that’s okay too. My guys can drop you anywhere and we’ll call it quits… I’ll look for someone else…” he looked at her sincerely, “but I hope you’ll stay. Take tonight to think about it, I’ll have dinner sent up to your room and let me know in the morning, okay?”
Alex’s bedroom was on the third floor and, as Rossi was careful to point out to her, on the opposite end of the house from his. She had been appropriately grateful and when he closed the door behind him, she stepped out of her heels and padded on the thick carpet into the connecting bathroom. Grateful she ranked for such an amenity, she pulled down her panties and sat on the toilet; I don’t know how I can possible have diarrhea when I haven’t fucking eaten anything since last night. In spite of the privacy, she still felt profound embarrassment at the gas and cramping her lower digestive tract insisted on producing, and when the waves of constrictive spasming finally stopped, she wearily exited the bathroom. She stopped in the doorway and took in the large room; noting, with surprise, that a small service tray had been left on a table set near a wide expanse of windows and she crossed the room and sat on one of the two chairs. A plate of fruit and table crackers, decoratively arranged on a silver salver, sat alongside a small pot of hot tea and a teacup, I can do this… She dug the encrypted flash drive from her dress pocket and placed it in the center of the beautifully set table. She picked up a cracker and chewed thoughtfully, forcing herself to relax in the chair.
Turning slightly in her seat, she regarded the expanse of bare, snow-capped trees and rolling white fields in the fading light, Cathy’s gone, she looked down at the large diamond she wore on her ring finger, her wedding ring. A faint smile crossed her lips, remembering how much fun she and Cathy had shopping for their rings before legally tying the knot. I believe widows are supposed to wear their rings on the right… Swallowing the lump in her throat, she stared down at her wedding ring as she gently pushed it off her finger and slid it on the ring finger on her right hand. Cameron only has me now… Her eyes darted to the flash drive on the table. There was a soft knock on the door and suddenly anxious, Alex quickly snatched the drive from the table and stuffed it back in her pocket as she crossed the room to the door, “Yes?”
“I’m Rose.”
Alex thought Aunt Rose looked to be in her late fifties of early sixties, and she cocked her head to one side, unable to decide if she fit the stereotype for a mafia matron or not. “Yes…” Alex’s mouth worked but no words came out. “I…” she finally stammered.
“My room is just down the hall,” Rose turned and motioned for Alex to follow, “why don’t you come say goodnight to your son?”
Alex followed, forgetting her shoes. “I…” Alex wrung her hands nervously, “Thank you, so much... Rose, for looking after him…”
“It’s no bother,” the older woman walked down the long hallway, “he ate a nice dinner and he’s nice and clean…” She motioned for Alex to enter a small room with a crib and when she approached she could see Cameron standing expectantly, holding onto the top rail for support. Stamping tiny feet, he issued inarticulate vocalizations, his small hands reaching for her.
“Hey, little slugger…” Alex greeted him warmly as she pulled him from the crib and into her arms. Rose motioned to an overstuffed chair that sat in the corner and Alex sat down gratefully in it, “Thank you…” she murmured.
“That’s my room,” Rose pointed at the open door to a connecting bedroom, “let me know when you put him down for the night.” Alex only nodded, holding Cameron on her lap. “He looks like his mother...” Rose smiled as she left the room.
Tears blurred Alex’s vision and she hugged Cameron to her, He looks like Cathy… she is his mother.
Point Sur, CA
Jordan had showered, trying to be as quiet as possible in case Catherine was sleeping in and she paused at her closed bedroom door. It’s getting kinda’ late… She checked her watch, Should I knock or something? Shrugging inwardly, she went downstairs, her nostrils flaring pleasantly when she realized she could smell coffee brewing. She spied a note on the kitchen table from Wallace saying to call him when they were up for the day so he could show them the security measures being employed for their protection. Very smart… She poured herself a mug; it’ll be reassuring for her to see all that. She pulled the two-way radio from her waistband, turning off the notify feature and leaving the volume low so she could listen to the team’s chatter. She adjusted the weapon on her hip and patted the pockets on her sweater, unconsciously feeling for her phone, badge and ID wallet before retrieving her coffee mug and moving to the window. So Wallace wasn’t kidding when he said it gets really foggy up here… She snorted amusedly, looking out the window and into a wall of gray mist. I guess the fog provides its own form of protection too.
Her phone suddenly vibrated in her pocket and she pulled it out, checking the caller ID before answering and acknowledging the caller, “Stewart...”
Catherine pulled the comb through her wet hair in the steamy bathroom, noticing for the first time that it was touching her shoulders. I guess I should get this cut somewhere… She turned on the blow dryer that hung from a hook near the mirror and began drying it. Once the fog on the mirror cleared away she regarded her features, You look like shit Catherine… Her head cocked thoughtfully to one side, so I guess I don’t need to worry about my hair. Picking up her pajamas, she was about to retrieve her toiletries and her hand stopped on the shampoo bottle. I guess… I suppose it’s okay if I leave my stuff… I am going to be here for a while, aren’t I? She stood for a moment, looking at hers and Jordan’s bottles of shampoo, conditioner and shower soap, We use the same shampoo and conditioner… she thought distantly and returned to her bedroom, turning to look one more time at the collection of bottles and toothbrushes and toothpaste on the bathroom shelf.
She heard Jordan’s footsteps outside her door earlier and lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She had slept only fitfully during the night in spite of feeling safe in the quiet house, It’s certainly nice to sleep on a new mattress… she yanked the covers back over the bed, straightening the down comforter. She had to admit the new bedding made for a warm, comfortable nest; I just wish I could tuck Cameron in beside me so I could read him bedtime stories... She sat on the bed and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes; Easy now… she drew careful breaths in through her nose and exhaled. Just breathe… Assume we’re in for the long haul and stay strong for Cam. Sitting up straighter on the bed, she stretched her spine before pulling on fresh socks and her sneakers and pulled back the heavy drapes. Her eyes widened in surprise when she looked out the window and into a wall of gray, Oh yeah… she thought, I forgot about the fog. I hope that lifts soon… Her sigh was audible as she left the room, I feel like I’ve lived in limbo long enough.
Jordan could hear when Catherine rose, noting she could hear the sounds of the shower and hair dryer as her charge readied for her first day on the rock. She toasted a few slices of bread and left them on a plate on the table with butter and jam she found in the fridge. “Hey,” she smiled when Catherine entered the kitchen, “The smell of coffee wake you up?”
“No,” Catherine signed, “but it smells good.”
Jordan was buttering a piece of toast and gestured with the knife, “We also have tea.”
Catherine shook her head, “This is fine.”
“Wallace wants us to come by the triplex and see the security surveillance they have, then we can give ourselves a tour of the place…” Jordan faltered and set the knife down on her plate, “I mean… I don’t have to follow you around up here, please don’t think you’re stuck with me with no privacy or…”
Catherine’s brow
furrowed, “Of course not, it would be nice to have some company…” Her hands lowered and she cupped them around her mug of coffee for a moment, “I take it we may be here a while now… if we were strangers before we shouldn’t be anymore.”
“Agreed.” Jordan smiled, biting into her toast.
“Hey team leader,” they heard a voice crackle over the radio, “are you two ready for a security review?”
Jordan looked at Catherine, who nodded, before she keyed the mic, “Give us a few to finish breakfast and we’ll be over.”
Jordan ate her toast and Catherine sat across from her with her coffee and helped herself to a slice from the plate Jordan left on the table. “I don’t suppose there’s any news.”
“Trust me…” Jordan sighed heavily, “I would have pounded on your door if there was.” She sipped at the coffee, “I asked my boss to put Coastanoa and other known Rossi associates in facial recognition surveillance programs we have outside casinos in Reno, Las Vegas and Atlantic City.” Catherine’s brows arched questioningly and she added, “If they go in any one of these places the software will pick them out. It’s a favorite pastime for these guys; gambling, strippers and hookers. Although I’m not holding my breath for that. Rossi will keep them underground for a long time.” She cleared her throat, “And, a ballistics team is at your house…” she licked her lips before pressing them together in a line, “it’ll take them quite some time to sort out how everything… went down.” Catherine only nodded as she bit delicately into her toast. “As I said, your in-laws were not injured since they were in the kitchen at the time and the furthest from the gunfire…” Jordan’s voice faded, recognizing the irony of the elder Sparrows being saved by being in the room where Catherine and her daughter Chelsea were shot. “More agents are canvassing the area, interviewing the neighbors, although, so far no one seems to have noticed any cars or anyone or anything out of the ordinary…” She shrugged, avoiding Catherine’s gaze.
Catherine’s expression was one of understanding and compassion, “You won’t be attending Agent Maynard’s funeral?”
Jordan shook her head, “No…”
“You should go.”
Jordan stared hard at her mug, “It was my itinerary, it was m…”
Catherine waved her hand for her attention, “This was not your fault.”
Jordan sighed again, “It’s not that simple, Catherine…”
“Did you follow your security protocols?” Jordan nodded, “And your boss approved of the security measures and the number of agents that were at my house?” Jordan nodded again and Catherine reached across the table, briefly gripping Jordan’s hand, “I do not blame you, Jordan. This was not your fault, I know you did everything you could to protect Alex and Cameron…”
Jordan’s eyes brimmed and she furiously blinked the tears from her eyes, “Thank you…” she said hoarsely and cleared the lump from her throat, “I appreciate that… Catherine,” she finally looked into sympathetic brown eyes, “I do… I can visit a grave anytime, but I can’t visit any of them, and especially not Don’s… not until we get Cameron back…” she drew deep breath, sitting straighter in her seat, “and not until I help bring the Rossi family down.”
Catherine held her gaze for what felt likes minutes, Same eye color as Alex, she mused silently, but so completely different… so… there’s something so deep... She finally looked down at her small empty plate and signed, “I’m ready when you are.”
Both drained their mugs and helped to clear the table before dragging on their coats and heading for the door.
“Wallace gave us keys for this place… a ring for you and a ring for me.” she handed Catherine a small key ring with eight keys. “Most of the light station has been keyed with a master key,” she pointed out a tie-dyed key, “and I have to tell you Wallace was real proud of himself for thinking of that…” Catherine chuckled silently and Jordan grinned, “It’s nice to see that again…” she gestured awkwardly, “the smile...”
Catherine took the keys, “Thanks, I’ve decided Alex and Cam are safe, and that they’ll stay that way until you find them and bring him safely back to me.”
“Thank you,” Jordan nodded, unlocking and opening the door for them, “Catherine that means a lot to me.”
They exited and Jordan made sure their new keys worked in the lock, “The parks department has asked us to keep the place locked up even though there’s no one here but us…” she shrugged, “so we all have keys.”
The sun had finally burned away the fog and they blinked in the bright sunlight as they walked around to the front door of the assistant keeper’s residence where the two protective details had set up residence and a control center for the surveillance equipment.
Turner met them at the door, “Hey,” he waved them in, “saw you coming… Good morning, did you guys get any sleep last night?”
Both nodded, “Some,” Jordan followed Catherine into the large stone house, “thanks for the coffee.”
“Set it up last night so thank the timer on that thing…” he grinned, “Come this way and I’ll give you a tour of the first floor… Tappert and Rhodie are upstairs sleeping; they’re the grave shift…” He spoke to Catherine, “Like over in your place, the bedrooms are on the second floors, so we all have bedrooms up there. We work twelve hour shifts seven to seven, but there’s still plenty of overlap so they won’t be strangers to you.” He led them through connecting rooms to the kitchen, “This place is a triplex, it was built to house three assistant keepers and their families, so we’re set up in the unit directly across from your place…” He took them into the front room where Wallace was sitting in front of a long table set with multiple monitors and computer stations.
He stood, greeting them and motioned for them to sit in the two chairs he had placed on either side of his. Turner excused himself and Wallace, interlacing his fingers, extended his arms until the knuckles popped, “Okay, let’s show you how we’ve wired this place for security.” Having read the file on Catherine Bernard, Wallace was acutely aware that he was explaining a computer surveillance system to an expert and he pointed out, with humor, that he was mostly explaining their systems to Jordan, but for Catherine to stop him whenever she had a question.
“Jeez…” Jordan rolled her eyes expressively; making Catherine grin and Wallace shrug sheepishly,
“Okay,” he pointed to the large monitor in the middle of the table and began by first explaining that although the light station had electricity, both buildings and the light house itself were also connected to emergency generators in the event of an electrical outage, “In case of bad weather and the like…” He went on to explain the placement of the thermal and full-spectrum cameras, capable of capturing high definition images in natural, ultraviolet and infrared light, essential for nighttime surveillance. “They’re not completely hidden; we mostly mounted them out of the wind but I guess you’d still have to really look to see where they all are. Both residences are covered on each side and given the steep sides of the rock, our main point to watch is simply the access road; we have a camera down at the base, and two more in between that one and the one mounted up here.” He pointed to each monitor and the varying views as he spoke then explained the redundancies built into the systems overall. Recording around the clock, each camera had motion detectors that each team member could view on their remote tablets in real time.
“How,” Jordan asked, “do you prevent birds and other wildlife tripping off an onscreen motion sensor?”
“We don’t…” he confessed, “that’s why we have a team actively working the graveyard shift that doesn’t just snooze with their tablets on their chest programmed with loud alarms.” He turned to Catherine, “We get to see all kinds of wildlife up here,” he shrugged, “I don’t know how they feel about it but I like it.”
He pointed out a stack of servers behind them, against the far wall, mounted on a metal rack and explained how they uploaded video to remote FBI servers every twenty-four hours
via the cell tower. “Apparently there was a bad storm in this area some years ago that destroyed part of the highway, so the parks department hooked up with a cell provider and in exchange for replacing the water tower, which I think was in pretty bad shape, with an historically accurate replica, they were allowed to incorporate a cell site into it so the residents and the hundreds of folks working on the highway could, you know, actually use their cell phones way out here.”
It felt to Jordan that even though Catherine sat quietly she was absorbing every system through her eyes alone, nodding as Wallace pointed out the many security systems and programs. When he finally asked if she had any questions, she shook her head,
“No… you were very thorough, although if I can think of any later I’d like to ask you then.”
“Of course,” he stood when Jordan and Catherine did and led them back to the front door, “You know the layout, Hawks?”
Catherine looked at Jordan, her eyebrows arched high.
“Sometimes our names get shortened…” Jordan shrugged, “you know…”
“And Agent Hawkins,” Wallace grinned, “is known for her observational prowess and clear-sightedness.”
“Really?” Catherine signed to her, “That sounds appropriate…”
Jordan suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, “Oh yeah,” she snorted deprecatingly, “thank you, Wallace.”
