Romeo's Tell (A disappearance mystery turned international thriller)

by William Neubauer

  The hostess nodded with a bright smile and picked up a menu. “Follow me, sir.”

  “I’ll show myself back if that’s okay.”

  “As you wish.” She gave Chad the menu, another smile, and sent him on his way.

  As he passed through the doorway into the back dining room, he saw Morgan sitting at a table off to the right side of the room with her back to him. She remembered our little game, he thought.

  The game consisted of one of them sneaking up on the other. As the latter of the two to arrive, it fell to Chad to sneak up on Morgan and it was up to Morgan to catch him in the act. The prize was simple: the coveted bragging rights until their next opportunity to play.

  He walked up behind her quietly, instinctively bending over to keep his head low. This is just too easy, he thought. When he was about six feet away, without turning around, Morgan suddenly said, “Hi Dad. I love the beard. And, by the way, you’re busted.”

  Chad smiled, seeing that she had been checking for him in the reflection of a ceramic vase placed strategically to the left of the table’s center. Guess she was listening to at least some of the things I taught her.

  “Hi Morgan, you look beautiful,” he said as she turned and stood to embrace him.

  “Dad, it’s so good to see you.”

  “Sorry it’s been so long.”

  “It’s okay, Dad. You’re here now. And I think I’m one up on you now too,” she said, referring to their little game, which the two had long-ago dubbed Busted.

  “Yeah, all right. Advantage Morgan.”

  Their happy embrace lasted for several more seconds before they took their seats. The first thing Chad noticed as he sat down was that Morgan already had a drink.

  “Starting a little early today are we?”

  “Sorry. You know I can’t pass up a margarita here.”

  “Hey, fine idea as far as I’m concerned. Just one for me today though.” He looked around for a server to flag down so he could get his own salt-rimmed treat.

  “What’s that on your hand, Dad? Is that a tat?” Morgan asked excitedly, knowing that her father thought tattoos were fine as long as they were on someone else’s body. She grabbed his hand to take a closer look at the dime-sized tattoo on the web of flesh between Chad’s right thumb and index finger. “What is that, a scorpion?”

  “Ah yeah. Pablo, Angel, and I took a trip to San Salvador for a conference a few months ago. We went out partying one night and all woke up with the same tattoo.”

  Morgan didn’t say anything. She was busy laughing.

  A server arrived. “Good timing. I’ll have what she’s having,” Chad said, smiling as his words brought to mind the famous scene from When Harry Met Sally.

  As the server took off to get Chad’s drink, he continued with the small talk. “So, have you come to your senses and decided on a nice safe career path?”

  “You know what I want to do, Dad.”

  “I was hoping something might have changed.”

  “No, but who knows if they’ll even want me.”

  “Oh, they’ll want you. Unless they don’t like the fact that you’re related to me. But I hope it’s not like that. I wouldn’t want to stop you. Not that way.”

  Sooner than expected, the server returned with Chad’s drink. He thanked her for the quick service, then he and Morgan got down to business.

  Chad reached into his pocket. “Before I forget, I want you to take this . . .” He handed her a cell phone. “And this,” he added, handing her 500 dollars in cash.

  “It’s some money—no arguments please—and a prepaid cell phone. I need you to shut yours off and remove the battery. Can you do that now, so you don’t forget?”

  “Sure,” said Morgan, hastily fumbling for her cell phone as if she had to get to it before it exploded.

  “I’ll call you every twelve hours—give or take an hour at most—to check in.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I actually don’t know yet.”

  “Dad, what is going on?”

  “Well, there’s a couple of things. First, do you have what Jane Paulson—uh Mannix—sent you?”

  “Yeah, of course.” Morgan reached down for her purse, promptly retrieved the plain business-sized envelope Jane Mannix had sent her, and handed it to Chad.

  He inhaled deeply and opened the sealed envelope. Inside was a sheet of letter-sized paper. Unfolding it revealed a copy of the ragged-edged note found by Jane Mannix’s son, Davy. On the white space around the jagged edges of the copied note Jane had simply written, “Chad, my son found this note inside the guitar you gave to Jill.”

  Morgan was prepared to let her father take his time with this, and it was good that she was. Chad examined the simple note for at least two full minutes before saying anything.

  Finally, he spoke again. “Did Jane tell you anything about this?”

  “Only that her son found it and that the police wanted to talk with you about it. Can I see it?”

  “Sure, if you’d like.” Chad placed the paper on the table and slid it over to Morgan, oriented so she could read it. It took Morgan only a few seconds to get what she needed from the brief note.

  “I don’t get it, Dad. It doesn’t say much of anything. A broken date? What’s the big deal?”

  “That’s one of the things I have to explain, honey.”

  He paused. Morgan looked into his eyes, waiting patiently.

  “I was engaged to be married—before I met your mother—to a wonderful young lady by the name of Jill Paulson, Jane Mannix’s older sister.”

  Morgan continued to listen silently, although her eyes and face appeared more strained now.

  “On the very day Jill wrote this note, she disappeared without a trace. We were never able to find her or any clues as to what happened to her.”

  “Did Mom know about this?” Morgan asked with a slight crack in her voice.

  Chad smiled. “Did she know? She more than knew. Your mother saved me.”

  “The way I heard it from Mom, it was you who saved her.”

  “Well, yeah, but that was only a physical save. She saved me in much more important ways.”

  Morgan looked down for a moment as her eyes took on a noticeable sheen. Chad gave her a few seconds to collect herself, and then continued.

  “Now we have this note that was somehow missed for twenty-four years. And according to the notation written on the edge of the copy, it came from inside a guitar that technically belongs to me. It also indicates that Jill and I had a date for the night she disappeared, which is not the case. So I have some things to figure out.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I’m not exactly sure just yet. I have a general idea,” Chad said as he took the note back from Morgan and slid it into the inside pocket of his sport jacket.

  Actually, now that he had seen Jill’s note, Chad did know who he needed to track down. He withheld that and tried to keep the focus on Morgan’s well being. “But I know for sure what I’d like you to do,” he said.

  “Okay, what?”

  “I think you’re gonna need to lie low for a little while, Morgan. If I’m right about the FBI being hot on my heels—and I’m pretty sure I am—they are not going to be very happy when you and I don’t show up at the Black Cat tonight. They will come looking for you to get to me.”

  “So, how about I just go with you? Finals are over.”

  “Not a good idea. I’m not looking to turn you into a fugitive too. I just want to buy a few days’ time while I try to work this thing out.”

  “What exactly do you want me to do?”

  “I’d like you to go stay with your Aunt Paula for a few days.”

  Morgan was not wild about this suggestion. She saw her late mother’s sister, Paula, as bad news these days—literally. Somewhere along the line, Morgan had gotten the idea that Paula’s reporting was at least part of what got her father into so much trouble that he had to leave the country.

 
“Dad, I haven’t talked to her in over a year. I wouldn’t feel right just showing up there—or even if I called first.”

  “Morgan, will you trust me on this? Aunt Paula will be more than happy to help you—us—in any way she can. She’ll be thrilled. Please, it would really take a load off my mind.”

  Morgan let out a sigh as she looked down at the table shaking her head. “Okay, if you put it like that,” she said.

  Chad looked proudly at his beautiful daughter, then posed a lighter question. “Okay, so what would you like to go with your breakfast margarita?”

  Successfully concealing most of her deep concern, she looked up into his eyes and smiled.

  Chapter 45

  Many Times Between Then and Now

  The pretty lady was enthralled. She had found herself just a few days ago in one of those terrible situations that make one feel so very alone—broken down on a deserted stretch of country road on her way back to Napa Valley, the last breath of twilight thickening to night like a dark, inevitable pall. No reason to expect or even hope for help.

  How she had wished at that moment she owned one of those cellular phones that some people were carrying now. But if she had, as she thought about it in retrospect, it might have changed everything. It might have erased her chances to experience the fateful luck that eventually befell her that night.

  At five-nine, she was taller than many girls, and in many ways viewed herself as stronger—usually.

  Girls. Hmm. With less than a month until birthday number 38, she wondered if she should still think of herself as a girl. She took care of her body and looked ten years younger, but realized that temporal reality placed her closer now to a middle-aged woman than to a young girl.

  She stood in front of the mirror, her long, silky hair accentuating delicate facial features and near-perfect form as it gently fell around the smooth curves of her supple, toned body. She wanted to look her best for him tonight. Tonight, she was hoping he would take her—where she hadn’t been in so very long—maybe to where she’d never been.

  How could she want to be so close to someone after knowing him for just a few days? She wasn’t quite sure. She had never met a man quite so strong and charming. And to think, if she hadn’t been in such a desperate situation, their paths would likely never have crossed. She put the thought out of her mind, lest it scare the very life from her.

  Almost two hours she had waited there before he came on that lonely night. One other car had slowed and one had even stopped briefly, before speeding away, as audible discord was shared among its occupants. That, and the torrential rain that started moments later, had extinguished her hope. But then, a half-hour later, he came.

  At first she was frightened. She was so very vulnerable. Shivering, with her hair drenched, she stood in front of him as he walked toward her, clothing saturated and clinging to her body to the point where she felt nearly naked. And the sight of him—the slow, deliberate way he moved, the cold, dead eyes that seemed to probe her—made her feel all the more so.

  But then, without words, he swung a blanket around her shoulders, smothering her in protection. She allowed him to hold her without knowing exactly why.

  “I will stay with you until you are safe,” he had said so simply that she knew it was true.

  And in the days since, she had come to know him a bit more. His work caused him to travel once or twice a year to different areas around the country. She knew little else other than how he made her feel. Still mysterious, but safe, as if when with him, her life could end and that would somehow be as it should.

  And his very name was one of love—and she his “Juliet.”

  She took in a breath, one of her last, and finished the review of her reflection, just as the doorbell rang. She felt the warm rush of surging blood and excitement at the thought of being with him.

  She swung open the door.

  “Good Evening, my dear,” he said as he reached for her.

  “Hello my sweet Romeo,” she said with a warm but unknowing smile.

  Chapter 46

  Now

  Once she got back to her apartment in Amherst, it took Morgan less than an hour to pack and be on her way to her Aunt Paula’s. Morgan had called her aunt while en route from Springfield back to Amherst. She had been pleasantly surprised at how happy Paula Andrews had been to hear from her, not to mention her willingness to put Morgan up for as long as necessary without even needing an explanation.

  Morgan decided to make a stop to hit the mall at Holyoke before hopping on the Massachusetts Turnpike. She wasn’t in any rush, and she thought it would be nice to bring a couple of small gifts for her cousins, Sally and Jake. Sally was probably pushing fourteen now and Jake was at least nine, maybe ten. Morgan hadn’t seen them in over a year, but they were really good kids and they always seemed to like being around Morgan as much as she liked being around them.

  It took her only five minutes to find a nice pink hoodie for Sally, but finding something for Jake was more challenging. She was just about out of mediocre ideas when she noticed a small magic shop tucked away in the corner of the mall. Perfect!

  After a couple of quick demos from the shop’s magic man, she decided on two tricks for Jake that she thought were pretty cool—one called The Invisible Deck and one mysteriously named Buddha Papers, which could make small objects like coins appear and disappear. Rather than have the store magician explain to her how to perform the tricks, she just made sure written instructions were included, knowing Jake was smart enough to follow them and thinking it would be more fun if he could fool her with the tricks along with everybody else.

  She was back in her car and on her way again in less than 45 minutes. When she hopped on the Turnpike it was just a little before 3:00 PM. She figured she would be at her Aunt Paula’s before four.

  The overcast day, with its odd, orange-tinted sky, gave the drive along the Mass Pike through the Berkshires a melancholy, almost foreboding feel. For some reason, the old James Taylor tune, Sweet Baby James, began to play in Morgan’s head. One of her dad’s favorites, she’d always thought it expressed a kind of vague longing, even though it wasn’t really a sad song.

  She guessed it was the verse of the song where the Berkshires are described that brought the song to mind and made her feel that way. She couldn’t recall the exact words but knew that the song referred to the same stretch of the Mass Pike that she was now traveling, although in the song it was in the other direction, that is, from Stockbridge to Boston.

  She also remembered the verse ending with a sense of a long journey just begun and most of it yet ahead.

  Morgan realized that was just how she felt about things with her Dad and the FBI and all that was going on. Just the start of the journey behind her and so much more to go.

  Chapter 47

  Paula Andrews and her husband, Dr. Benjamin Andrews, lived with their two children on a fourteen-acre country estate just outside Stockbridge. They kept a few horses, so the entire property was surrounded with four-board fencing. A 250-foot winding driveway led up to the 4,500 square-foot Victorian home the two had built ten years earlier after deciding to chuck the bustling life in Boston in favor of more peaceful country living.

  The transition back to a general practice hadn’t been difficult for Benjamin Andrews. During most of the five years he’d spent as a cardiologist in Beantown, he’d felt increasingly removed from his patients. Being a primary care physician in a less glitzy environment provided him much more satisfaction.

  As an established journalist in the era of the Internet, Paula Andrews could work from anywhere. As long as she maintained the discipline to devote at least some time to writing each day, she was able to make her own hours, leaving her a great deal of flexibility to focus on her two kids and other family matters.

  Morgan remembered most of how to get to the Andrews place and was determined to navigate the trip without using her GPS. She made only one slightly wrong turn along the way, causing only a minor dela
y. At exactly 3:55 PM, she pulled into the driveway and she and her 2010 Celica began climbing the hill toward the elegant house.

  The stately Victorian, with its elaborate wraparound porch and characteristic tower, looked out over a tremendous view from its perch at the highest point on the Andrews property. Not a bad place to stay—not at all, Morgan thought as she pulled up to the parking area alongside the three-car garage.

  Morgan packed light for a girl in her early twenties and came with just one small bag in addition to the gifts for Sally and Jake. She parked the Celica, gathered up her stuff, and started toward the house. A nicely appointed, stamped concrete walkway led to the main entrance. Although Morgan was a brisk walker, Sally and Jake, who had been watching and waiting for her for the past hour, were on her before she even got to the front steps.

  The three exchanged hugs and very excited “glad to see yous.” As she was telling Jake how big he had gotten, Morgan actually felt old for the first time in her life. Not too old, but the notion provided her first genuine realization of the direction she, and everyone else who continues to draw breath, was headed.

  Before long, Aunt Paula had joined the little reunion in front of her lovely home. She and Morgan shared a long hug, after which the four made their way into the house.

  After Morgan was set up in the guest room, the kids checked out their gifts. The hoodie fit Sally perfectly and within fifteen minutes, Jake was amazing everyone with the Invisible Deck and Buddha Papers.

  After a nice family dinner and some general catching up, the kids went to watch TV, giving Morgan and her aunt the opportunity to get into a serious conversation. Paula Andrews started with the two most prominent questions on her mind.

  “Morgan, I’d like to know if you’re in some kind of trouble and if there’s any way I can help.”

  Morgan didn’t know quite how to respond. In the back of her mind, there was still the notion that her Aunt Paula had something to do with her dad’s FBI troubles. She was pretty sure it all hinged around some article her aunt had written. But she also knew her father had no ill feelings whatsoever toward her. So, whatever happened, it was likely not entirely her fault. Ultimately, Morgan decided to go with a safe response.