by David Archer
Indie had a slight grin on her face. “Yeah, he has. I remember that one Christmas, I was what, maybe ten? We didn’t have any money for Christmas presents or even a Christmas dinner, but he told you about some old house in the woods where he said you would find what you needed to make Christmas perfect. Remember that?”
“Oh, I certainly do. You and I went stomping out through the snow and found that old abandoned house, and we looked all through it for whatever it was he was telling us about. And then, just as I was ready to give up, you looked through a hole in the floor into the old storm cellar and found a big old wooden box. We drug it out and I remember I had to use an old broom handle to pry the lid up, and we found all those old silver plates.” She chuckled. “You know, after we sold those, I worried for over a month that some cop was going to show up and say we stole them, but Beauregard kept telling me not to worry. He said he had found out about them from the ghost of the old woman who had died there eighty years before, and that no one ever found them because they had been covered up with old rags. I guess the rags rotted away by the time we got there, right?”
“I guess so. All I really remember is that it was one fantastic Christmas. That was the year you bought me my first computer, do you remember that?”
Kim nodded. “And just for the record, I don’t think I ever told you, but Beauregard told me I should buy you—as he put it—one of those new information boxes.”
The two of them sat there for a moment and reminisced about that Christmas, but Indie wasn’t finished. “Mom,” she said, “how do you feel about being a grandma again?”
Kim gave her the biggest smile Indie had seen in many years on her mother’s face. “I would be thrilled,” she said, “and I can guarantee you that Grace would be in heaven. Trust me, she loves Kenzie to pieces herself, but every woman looks forward to the day when she’ll be a real grandmother. I think that she would be absolutely overjoyed.”
“You haven’t said anything to her yet, right?” Indie asked.
“Of course not,” Kim said. “An announcement like that needs to come from the proud parents. Trust me when I say I would never try to steal that joy away from you.”
14
Sam drove back into Clearwater until he spotted hotels, then turned into the parking lot of the Marriott on Harry’s instruction. They went inside and Harry secured two rooms, and then Sam left Harry and Kathleen alone so that they could talk. He went into his own room and was about to call Indie when he remembered that he had told her to hide. He wouldn’t be able to reach her until she called him from a throwaway phone.
No sooner had that thought crossed his mind than his phone rang, and he glanced at its display to see that it was Indie’s usual number calling. He answered quickly, almost afraid of what she might have to say. “Indie?”
“It’s me, Sam,” Indie said. “Listen, I don’t want you to get upset, but we’re back at the house. I thought that if somebody was maybe watching us, they might go after our mothers as well, so I called Mom and went by and grabbed them, and—well, Beauregard…”
“It’s okay,” Sam said. “Things are working out a lot better than we expected. We ended up in a confrontation with Michael, literally with a gun pointed at us, but I was able to talk him into letting us go. He’s made himself a fortune in the yacht business and doesn’t want to give it up. I made a deal with him to let Kathleen go with Harry, on the condition that she gives him an uncontested divorce and he gets to keep everything.”
“Oh my God, Sam,” Indie said, “are you serious? What a jerk!”
“Listen, Harry and Kathleen were happy to agree to it. The only problem is that they aren’t allowed to let their kids know the truth. The official story is that Kathleen has been having an affair with Harry, and Michael hired me to find out what was going on. When he confronted Kathleen, she admitted that she wanted a divorce and wanted to be with Harry, so he’s letting her go. He made her call the kids to come over and hear all this directly from her.”
Indie was quiet for a moment. “Sam,” she said finally, “I don’t think things are going to go as smoothly as that. Beauregard says you’re about to have some kind of problems there, and that I needed to be here in order to help you. That’s why we came back to the house.”
Sam sighed, and flopped backward onto the bed. “Did he say what kind of problems?”
“Does he ever? No, just that something is going to happen and you’re going to need me here. He did say that we are not in any danger. As much as I hate it, the fact is that he’s just never wrong.”
“Okay,” Sam said tiredly. “I’m not sure at the moment what the plan is, but Kathleen has to wait until next week to go and pack her things up. I would imagine Harry is going to stay here, but unless he needs me for something I’m going to try to come on home. Harry doesn’t think Michael will be any kind of problem, and he was so happy about getting to keep everything that I doubt he’s going to cause any trouble in the near future. I’ll talk to Harry and Kathleen in a little bit, and call you back then. Right now I think I’m going to go find me a cup of coffee.”
“Okay, Babe,” Indie said. “Call me when you know something, or I’ll call you if that stupid ghost decides to give me any more information.”
“I still don’t believe in ghosts,” Sam said. “I think maybe it’s time we get your mom to talk to one of those ESP experts. I’m not saying she can’t see the future, because she obviously does; I just don’t believe in Beauregard.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll let you have that conversation with her when you get home, okay?”
“Trust me, I will,” Sam said. “Love you, Babe.”
“Love you, too. Bye-bye, Baby.”
Sam ended the call and dropped the phone on the bed beside him. This was the first time Beauregard had ever tried to countermand Sam’s instructions, and he was frankly really upset about it. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much he could do unless he could convince Kim to seek professional help, and he wasn’t sure that was going to happen.
Sam lay back for a few minutes and let the events of the morning run through his mind. The whole thing had been crazy, and he couldn’t help worrying about the fact they seemed to be dealing with a man who was not entirely sane. Michael Watkins had broken an awful lot of laws in his plot to steal Harry’s wife and family, and though he couldn’t be prosecuted over it now, the risks must surely have weighed on his mind for years. That weight had, somewhere along the line, become too much and some part of him had snapped.
Hopefully, the arrangement they had come to would keep him happy, but even though he didn’t express it to Harry, Sam had his doubts. This was a man who showed clear signs of paranoia, and he was obviously terrified of losing everything he had achieved. Even without being prosecuted, he would be fully aware that if the truth ever came out, his reputation would be gone as quickly as if it had been flushed down the toilet. To Sam, that made him every bit as dangerous now as he had seemed to be before. He had the feeling that, sooner or later, he and Harry were going to have to deal with Michael.
A tap on the door roused him, and Sam realized that he had drifted off to sleep. He glanced at his phone as he picked it up and saw that it was almost half-past noon as he went to answer the door.
Harry and Kathleen stood there, and despite the stress they had gone through earlier, there was a glow of happiness about both of them. Sam couldn’t help smiling. “Well,” he said, “you two seem to be getting along well.”
“In some ways, Sam, boy,” Harry said, “it’s like we were never apart. This is probably the most unusual reunion that ever took place, but it’s been well worth the wait.” The old man winked at him. “And according to my blushing new bride, here, I’m every bit the man I ever was.”
Kathleen gasped and looked shocked, but she was definitely blushing as she gently slapped Harry on the shoulder. Sam chuckled as Harry pretended to wince, and then Harry went on.
“Well, anyway,” he said, “now that we’ve worked up a bit
of an appetite, we thought we might ask you to join us for some lunch in the restaurant downstairs. Feeling hungry, old boy?”
“Now that you mention it,” Sam said, “I am. Give me just a minute to freshen up and I’ll meet you at the elevator.”
“Sounds good. We’ll be waiting.”
Sam went into the bathroom and made use of it, then splashed some water on his face and headed out the door. Harry and Kathleen were waiting beside the elevator as promised, and Harry pushed the down button when Sam appeared in the hallway. He caught up with them just as the doors slid open.
“Sam,” Harry said, “I’m under orders to tell you that my earlier comment was made in jest. I hope you didn’t take any offense at my sense of humor.”
Sam barely managed to keep his face straight. “Not a problem, Harry,” he said. “I suspected as much.”
The restaurant just off the lobby of the hotel was a very nice one, and a maître d’ looked down his nose at Sam and Harry as he showed them to the table. Neither of them were wearing a tie, and the light sport jacket Sam had on had definitely seen better days. They ignored him until he walked away, then Harry turned to Sam.
“Was it my imagination,” he began, “or was that fellow just a bit on the snooty side?”
Sam grinned at him. “I suspect he’s used to a more elegant type of clientele than he sees in us, Harry. In fact, I think that if Kathleen had not been with us, he might not have let us in.”
“Then that would have been his loss, because I intend to have the biggest steak they have available. I haven’t eaten very well the last few days, with the exception of breakfast at your house, and I’m feeling so much better now I’m ready to make up for lost time.”
“Medium rare,” Kathleen said, “with grilled onions and Worcestershire sauce. Am I right?”
“Of course,” Harry replied. “You still remember so much after all these years?”
“Well, I remember how you like a steak. Let’s see, you’re having steak, so you’ll want an iced lager, and you’ll have a baked potato and a small salad with Italian dressing.”
“Right again. Now, let’s see if I can do as well. It’s only lunchtime, so you’ll probably choose a petite New York strip, medium, with a salad and, oh, let me think, raspberry vinaigrette dressing. How’d I do?”
“Not bad, actually,” she replied. “That sounds exactly like what I want.”
Sam was looking over the menu, and the prices were a lot higher than what he was used to back home. Still, he got the impression that this was more of a celebratory lunch than anything else, so he decided to go all out. “I’m going for the prime rib,” he said. “You can never go wrong with prime rib.”
Harry blinked. “Now, don’t hold back, Sam,” he said. “Have two of them if you want, this is on me.”
“Harry, don’t tempt me. I happen to love prime rib, and I haven’t forgotten that you’re covering the expenses of this trip.”
A waiter came and took their orders, and the three of them had coffee while they waited. Harry and Kathleen were still catching up, but while they tried to include Sam in a lot of the conversation, it was pretty obvious that they were quite wrapped up in one another.
It wasn’t until their food arrived that Sam managed to steer the conversation to what was going to happen next.
“My concern,” he said, “is that Michael is going to eventually start worrying that someone is going to talk. To be honest, he strikes me as being somewhat paranoid. I don’t want him to decide he needs to give one of us an object lesson to make sure we hold up our end of this deal.”
“He seemed quite relieved,” Kathleen said. “To be honest, I don’t think he really cares that much about us, as long as he gets to keep his good name intact and all his money. I’m going to do all I can to assure him there won’t be any problems. I’ll wait until Monday to give him a call and see when I can go pack up my things, but I think the only thing that might cause a problem is if we said anything to the kids.”
“I agree,” Harry said. “I’ll admit, Sam, it grates me to not be able to tell my children who I am, but for now it’s probably the best way to handle things. Sooner or later the truth will come out. When it does, we’ll deal with Michael however we have to.”
“Well, I’m not leaving you here by yourselves,” Sam said. “I’ll stay as long as you do, and then…”
“Actually,” Harry said in his slow drawl, “I’m not planning on staying, either. Kathy and I have talked it over, and we both feel it would be a good idea to get out of the area. We’ll stay the night, since I’ve already paid for the rooms, but then tomorrow morning I was planning on flying us back to Denver. We can get a hotel there, and then fly back next week when it’s time for her to pack up.”
Sam grinned. “We can fly back to Denver,” he said, “but if you think for one minute that Indie is going to let you stay in a hotel, you’ve obviously forgotten just how tough my little wife is. You and Kathy are more than welcome to use our guest room, and that way I can keep an eye on you. Remember, Beauregard says it’s up to me to keep you alive and healthy.”
“Okay, that’s it,” Kathy said. “That’s the second or third time you’ve mentioned somebody named Beauregard. Who on earth is Beauregard?”
Sam sighed and grinned at Harry. “Should we tell her?”
“We might as well,” Harry replied. “Knowing Beauregard, he’s bound to put in an appearance while we’re there.”
Sam turned to Kathleen. “Beauregard is a figment of my mother-in-law’s imagination,” he said. “Unfortunately, he seems to be an alter-ego she created to deal with the fact that she can occasionally see bits and pieces of the future. I don’t know how she does it, but she insists that Beauregard is an old Civil War ghost she calls her spirit guide. Whenever she gets a glimpse of the future, she insists that Beauregard told her whatever it is, and she’s even been known to lapse into a Beauregard personality now and then.”
Kathleen was staring at him. “Your mother-in-law is schizoid?”
Grimacing, Sam said, “I don’t know if schizoid is the right term, but she does seem to have a second personality. Whenever Beauregard, what’s the word, manifests himself, it’s actually a little difficult not to believe she’s possessed. I mean, it’s weird, she talks like an old Southern gentleman and even her face looks—I don’t know, different.”
“Why are you so sure it isn’t a Civil War ghost?” Kathleen asked. “I’ve seen some pretty strange things, especially when we were living in Brazil. I knew an old woman down there who could talk to all kinds of ghosts, and sometimes you can actually see them. I saw that with my own eyes, so I’m not quite as skeptical, I guess.”
Sam smiled, but shrugged. “The only ghost I’ve ever seen is Beauregard, but only when Kim is supposedly possessed by him. I guess I’m just not willing to give up a lifetime of not believing in ghosts or the supernatural.”
Kathleen turned to Harry. “You don’t believe in Beauregard either?”
Harry pursed his lips and looked at her for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders. “I honestly don’t know,” he said. “He once gave Kim a message for me, something about not having seen me since we fought together at Valley Forge, and something about it gave me a chill. I’ve always been fascinated by Valley Forge and what the Continental Army went through, there, I’ve literally read everything I could get my hands on about it, and I have to confess that I’ve always felt as though I could almost remember being there. Some of the things I read seemed so familiar that I toyed with the idea of reincarnation, but I never really took it seriously.”
He let out a sigh. “Then one day, about ten years ago, I met this old woman in Europe. I was there to interview some witnesses to a terror attack, and she was one of them. I sat down with her and we started to talk, and she suddenly looked at me and said, ‘You are an old soul.’ I asked her what she meant, and she went on to tell me that I had lived several different lives, and that I was always involved in some kind of es
pionage work. I tried to brush it off, but then she put her hand on mine and said, ‘You were Tallmadge. When Nathan was hanged, Washington turned to you.’”
“Tallmadge?” Kathleen asked. “Did that mean something to you?”
Harry nodded. “Yes. At Valley Forge, General George Washington sent a spy, Captain Nathan Hale, into New York to gather information on British fortifications. He was captured and hung, of course, and gave us his famous line about only having one life to give for his country, but Washington then turned to Major Benjamin Tallmadge, Hale’s best friend, and asked him to organize a spy network. I recognized the names when she uttered them, but didn’t put any stock in it—not until Beauregard said that about not seeing me since Valley Forge. I’ll confess it sent a shiver down my spine at the time.”
Kathleen turned to Sam. “See? There are many things in the world that may be hard to understand, Sam, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t real.”
Sam shrugged and managed to grin. “I’ll let you make up your own mind when you meet her.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Kathleen said with a grin of her own, and Harry laughed softly.
“Sam, Kathleen mentioned a bit ago that she needs a few things,” Harry said when lunch was finished, so Sam gave him the key to the Buick and went back up to his room. He was still tired, and the stressful morning had only added to that fatigue, so he stripped down to just his slacks and stretched out on the bed. He called Indie to let her know he’d be home the next day, then drifted off to sleep.