by Lee Perry
“So you’ll be divorcing Alex once you get Cameron back.”
“As quickly as I can, yes.”
“You deserve better, Catherine.”
“You always said so…”
“I…” his face colored, “I’m sorry, Catherine, Alex was and I’m sure still is an absolute pro at sales…”
“You didn’t approve of Alex… and it turned out you were right, Po.”
“Please don’t give up on love, Grasshopper,” he begged softly, “you’ll find it again, someone worthy of your love.” The smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth was tiny and fleeting but he caught it nonetheless, “Or…” he grinned, looking relieved, “maybe you already have…”
Hesitantly, she told him about Jordan, realizing as she quickly traced on her hand how much she needed to talk to someone she trusted about she and Jordan’s budding relationship. “She not only taught me sign language, she was the one who found Point Sur as a safe house where she thought Alex and I could reconnect so I could decide whether I wanted to stay with her and try again or not. She is selfless and giving and…” She could feel color rising in her cheeks and she sipped at her water, “Brave, trustworthy…” she hesitated, suddenly feeling vulnerable, “She’s such a loving person, Po.”
Shen arched a single brow and clasped the small elegant hands in just one of his own, “Then love her, Catherine, and let her love you.”
He took a circuitous route back to his apartment building; they strolled through Chinatown’s small shops and he bought ingredients as they walked and chatted about what to have for dinner. They passed a bookstore specializing in books printed in Chinese and Catherine stopped at a sidewalk cart filled with books. They thumbed through the rows of used paperbacks in companionable silence until Catherine pulled out a copy of Sun Tzu’s, The Art of War.
He noted the title, “The English version of that book sure was a big deal back in the eighties… wanna-be big-business tycoons swore by that book, it was considered the go-to book for wisdom when it came to sales…”
“I know,” Catherine held up the book, tracing on it, “Alex loved this book. She…” Her eyes became suddenly distant as she stared at the book cover, and after a moment she shrugged, “I’m buying it.”
Shen grinned, “Okay… do you need any money?”
She shook her head, “No, Jordan made sure I have my own money.” He followed her inside and she produced her debit card from the thin wallet tucked into the back pocket of her jeans. While she waited for the cashier to ring up her purchase she turned to him, “And I get to buy you some meals while I’m here…”
“Okay.” His smile was warm and when they left the store he felt the sun on his face for the first time that day, I’m so happy you’re here, Cathy… he thought, his smile making his eyes crinkle at the corners. He thought of her often over the years, wondering how his little sister was faring in her marriage to Alexandra Sparrow. He had a personable enough working relationship with Alex while at Symteck, but every time he looked into her eyes he felt a veil come down, as though Alex had something to hide, and when she began dating Cathy, he bit his tongue, determined to mind his own business. Cathy seemed happy with her… he conceded. But I always suspected Alex was a fake… a phony who used and hid behind Cathy’s… I mean Catherine’s powerful intellect when we were at Symteck. I guess her beauty really was only skin deep… it was probably inevitable she would get mired in the BS of her own sales pitch and finally reveal herself to be utterly lacking in any substance at all. Although concern for Catherine often occupied his thoughts, as the years passed he eventually wondered what made Alex the way he perceived her, Does she harbor some horrible secret that made her so self-absorbed? Or was she simply born without the ability to think beyond her own selfish desires?
Catherine walked next to her friend, making a mental note to download Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations to her laptop and when she looked up at him, her brows arched at his expression, “What?”
“Nothing,” he grinned down at her, “I was just remembering how shocked I was when you learned Cantonese and Mandarin so fast…” his grin widened, “you took to it like a duck to water.”
“I think I was just happy I had friends again… When my mom died I became so reclusive… and I stayed that way from college until Alex drew me out… so…” she stopped and looked up at him while she traced the words, “I do have her to thank for that.” She lowered her hands and stared for a moment at the cover of the book she had just purchased and was still using as a surface draw her words on, “But that’s all she gets from me now. I wish I had seen her selfishness for what it was.” Her eyes brimmed and she stopped to press her hand against her eyes and the tears that stubbornly formed.
Shen gripped the small shoulder in gentle reassurance, “It’s not your fault...”
“Of course it is!” she angrily traced, “If I had left her before she got involved with those people Chelsea would still be alive!”
They were walking uphill to Shen’s apartment building and he stepped in front of her, making her stop in the middle of the sidewalk, “You listen to me, Catherine,” he bent low so he could look directly into her red and tear-swollen eyes, “you are not to blame.” He kept his voice low but he spoke fervently, “What happened was Alex’s fault, not yours… none of it, understand?” He watched, heartbroken, as tears spilled down her cheeks and she clamped a hand over her mouth, sobbing silently. He pulled her roughly into his sinewy arms and held her against his chest, “You just miss your babies…” he whispered, his voice husky and he drew a deep breath, letting his own tears slide unchecked over high cheekbones and down his face.
Back in his apartment, Catherine asked him about his IT business and he flopped on the couch,
“I love it now but it was scary in the beginning, all I had was my stock from Symteck but as I soon found out; you truly don’t need social media to promote yourself in this culture.” He grinned, “Looking back, it didn’t take that long to build a nice client base.” He shrugged, adding, “So much of Chinese culture here is about the preservation of the old ways, but trust me when I tell you everyone in Chinatown has a computer and is always looking for ways to improve their businesses with them… and word traveled pretty fast.”
“And you had to reschedule your appointments today because of me.”
“There was nothing in my appointment book that important or I would have dragged you along and probably let you do it.” Her brows arched and he laughed, “If for no other reason, just so I could see you do that again.” He sighed, slumping on the cushions, “You really were amazing to watch, Catherine, remember?”
“I think I’d probably enjoy it now, but I hated giving those tutorial inservices.”
“Well,” he snorted, “I loved them.” He slapped his thighs and got up, “I just have one appointment I’m gonna’ go to...” He checked his watch, “If I go now I’ll be home in time to cook dinner,” He walked to his desk by the wide window and grabbed his computer bag. “You’re welcome to come with or hang out here,” he stopped in front of her, “I think you should probably stay here and rest, you look like you could use a nap.”
Nodding tiredly, she stood and wrapped her arms around him in a hug, “Thanks, Po…” she drew on her hand, “and thank you for everything.”
Once Shen left for his appointment she kicked off her shoes and lay down on the couch, leaving her phone on the carpeted floor beneath. She was sleeping soundly when her phone chimed softly. Sleepily, she scrubbed her face and fumbled for it; the lighthouse icon filled the screen,
“You have a message from Jordan.”
“Jordan.” She typed her name and tapped the send key.
“Hi, settled in?”
“Yes, you?”
“Yep, but it occurred to me earlier, what if something happens to my phone?”
“Don’t worry, text me with a password so I know it’s you and I’ll disable your old phone and download the app again remotely to your new p
hone.”
“You have the SIM card number or whatever on the phone I have now?”
“Of course I do, I wouldn’t have been able to download our app otherwise.”
“And what password shall we use?”
Catherine stared at the screen thoughtfully for a moment then typed, “Remember what was embedded in the ceiling in the lamp room?”
“Prisms?”
“Exactly.”
“As usual, Dr. Bernard, I am hugely impressed.”
Catherine smiled at the text and her smile widened when her phone vibrated again and another message appeared,
“And I love you.”
“I love you, Jordan.”
“BTW, I downloaded Aurelius’ Meditations while I waited for my flight; it’s an easier read than I thought it would be.”
Catherine’s smile was bittersweet when she finally closed the app and sat back on the couch. That reminds me; I have another book to read… Grabbing her phone, she stood, stretching as she crossed to the kitchen counter and retrieved the book she bought. Starting at the title page, The Art of War, by Sun Tzu, she read at her typically rapid pace, turning pages as she crossed the living room to sit on the chair at Shen’s desk. She began at the introduction and when she finished the book she noted the time; Po should be home soon… She stood, yawning and wandered over to the window and panoramic view and stared out at the fog that crept into the bay from the sea. A long moment passed and she glanced down at the book she held, now filled with bookmarks. She looked back out at the rapidly darkening sky and mentally reviewed the now memorized quotations she had marked,
“The superior militarist strikes while schemes are being laid. When the opponent is just beginning to plan its strategy, it is easy to strike.”
"In ancient times skilful warriors first made themselves invincible, and then watched for vulnerability in their opponents."
“Appear where they cannot go, head for where they least expect you. To travel hundreds of miles without fatigue, go over land where there are no people.”
“There are five kinds of fire attacks: One, burning personnel; two, burning provisions; three, burning equipment; four, burning stores; five, burning weapons.”
“Foreknowledge cannot be gotten from ghosts and spirits, cannot be had by analogy, cannot be found out by calculation. It must be obtained from people, people who know the conditions of the enemy.”
She closed her eyes, Where are you, Alex? What is it I need to remember to find you?
New York City, NY
Jordan left Stewart’s office and walked tiredly down the hall to her office, the weight of her overnight and shoulder bags digging into her shoulder. Once inside she turned on her heel and left, unable to look at her and Don’s desks, turned to face each other. Memories of Don throwing paperclips and balled-up notes at her across the joined desks to make her laugh were too much for her and she strode past the elevators, choosing to take the stairs to the floor where Cyber Division was located. After a full debriefing, Stewart agreed to allow Jordan to return to her regular duties, and she nodded obediently when he “encouraged” her to see one of the department’s psychologists, “totally confidentially”. She appreciated his concern and told him she was taking the weekend to visit Don’s gravesite.
Her friend, Assistant Director Bea McNamara, headed Cyber Division and she waved to her across the wide expanse of floor populated by agents furiously pounding away at keyboards while they stared into multiple monitors on each desk.
“Jordan,” she greeted her with a firm handshake, “so sorry to hear about Don and the team.”
“Thanks, Bea.” Jordan followed her into her office and shut the glass office door behind her. “I’m hoping you can ping a cell phone for me.” She accessed Catherine’s number and handed over her phone.
“Of course,” Bea took the phone and gestured for her to sit, “is your witness in the wind?”
“For a while…” Jordan slid her bags onto the floor and dropped into the chair, “Tell me how you’re doin’ with your facial recognition tech.”
“Well,” Assistant Director McNamara sat behind her desk and sighed expressively, “we got an artist to age Coastanoa’s mugshot from twenty years ago and we’re using both.”
“How wide is the coverage?”
“National…”
“Really?”
“Yeah, don’t sound too impressed yet; we’ve linked public cameras in Atlantic City, Reno and Las Vegas… and we included security cameras at all the major airports, bridge and road tollbooths… but we haven’t gotten any hits.” Jordan seemed to slump further in the chair and she added, “We’re looking for him on a national scale, in real time, round the clock… but if he passes in front of a camera and he’s scratching his face, or otherwise deliberately obscuring his face the software won’t detect him.” She typed furiously at her workstation while she spoke, “The mugshot we have is twenty years old so I got an artist to age him so we can use both as our baseline.” She shrugged, “Look, we’re spending a billion dollars on this facial recognition technology… and when all is said and done we’ll literally have the largest biometric database on the planet…” She sighed as she typed, stealing a look at her, “but we’re not there yet.” Jordan nodded tiredly. “You look exhausted, by the way.”
“Long flight,” Jordan sighed, “long day.”
“Okay,” Bea handed her phone back to her and it vibrated in her hand, “Open that text and download the application… I set it up so you can tap it and ping her phone down to the address.” She stood, leaning over her desk so she could point at the phone’s screen, “Tap the GPS feature and it’ll give you map coordinates, as long as she’s got the phone on her you’ll know where she is within ten feet okay?”
“Jesus,” Jordan snorted appreciatively, “I always said you were too good for this job.”
“Call me if you need anything else.”
“I will, thanks Bea.” Jordan stood, dragging the shoulder straps on her bags back over her sore shoulder. What would you bet, she wondered, that Bea and Catherine would get along in this department like two peas in a pod?
She decided to begin her weekend early and took the elevator to the ground floor. She bought dinner from a deli on her walk home and the concierge waved her over when she entered her building, telling her he left a large box, delivered by an FBI courier, by her front door. Thanking him, she took the elevator to her floor, spying Catherine’s box she sent before driving to the San Francisco airport, amazed it had arrived before she did. She dragged the box inside, leaving her bags on top and after putting her sandwich and bottled tea in the empty fridge; pulled her tablet from the shoulder bag and phone from her jacket pocket and plugged in both devices to recharge. Tiredly, she shed her clothes and headed for the shower, feeling increasingly exhausted as the night wore on.
Leaning her hands against the tile, she let the hot water beat on the tightly bunched muscles in her neck and back, How long has it been since you were here last? she wondered silently. Catherine’s not here, so who cares? She felt tears slide from her eyes and she raised her face into the shower’s spray, losing them in the hot water.
When she finally emerged, she wrapped herself in a terrycloth robe, pulled her dinner from the fridge and sat on the single stool at the kitchen counter. She stared longingly at the box of Catherine’s clothes while she ate, I could feel worse… she reasoned, at least I have our private chat program… and I think I feel better having her box of clothes here…
But she’s in San Francisco and you’re in New York City.
I know…. Jordan inwardly harrumphed, But at least I know exactly where she is, and I know she’s safe with her friend. When Catherine told her about Jun Shen, Jordan investigated him while working on her tablet at Point Sur, gathering all the data available on the friend Catherine had come to like and trust enough learn two languages for and in the end, Jun Shen had passed Jordan’s test of fidelity. So for the moment I’ll have to be happy be
ing limited to exchanging texts with her long distance. She shook her head, Something will give… she thought determinedly; it has to. We’ll get a break in the case…
She finished her sandwich and balling the paper wrapper, tossed it into the trash can under the sink. Checking to see if her phone and tablet were fully charged, she unplugged both and powered them up.
She had downloaded Meditations while she waited for her flight, wanting to feel close to Catherine by reading the same book she had. Once she completed her purchase, the Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu appeared on a recommended list and impulsively, she purchased it as well and downloaded both to her tablet. She managed to read half of the roman emperor’s collection of meditative thoughts while on the plane, and she took her phone and tablet to the bedroom area of her studio apartment, intending to read in bed. She placed her phone next to her ID wallet and weapon on her nightstand and propped the pillows against the headboard so she could sit up while she read. She slid under the covers and opened the book by the sixth century Chinese philosopher. Tapping the screen, she advanced the pages to the introduction and began, but her eyelids quickly drooped and she jerked herself awake before finishing the first page.
“Oh, this is gonna’ have to wait…” she mumbled aloud. She tapped the book closed and opened a browser instead, if she was going to visit Don’s grave in the morning she was going to have to rent a car, And then I’ll ping Catherine’s phone…
The following morning she stood nervously at her kitchen counter, dressed in a neatly pressed black suit, “Okay…” she said aloud, “you can do this.” Stewart had emailed her the contact information for Don’s parents and she tapped the phone number, nervously biting her lips as the phone rang in their home.
A woman answered and Jordan cleared her throat, “Hello, is this Joyce Maynard?” Once she identified herself, Don’s mother called her husband, Walter, to pick up the extension, “Hello, I’m calling to apologize for not attending Don’s funeral…”
