A Deep Thing

by A. K. Smith

  “Not necessary, Kendall, I’ll make the arrangements, I know the perfect place. I’ll see you at your office at seven, it’s a date.” And with that the line was disconnected.

  The comment actually hung in the air, bordering on being inappropriate. It was most certainly not a date. She would use the time to gather some background information to help her students write the introduction to Conrad Nathaniel’s keynote speech.

  After returning the rest of her calls, and halfway through the morning she realized she wanted, no needed to call Scout. I need to set the trip in motion before I change my mind. Ryder had not returned her call—typical for her reality star stepson—so she left him another text.

  She punched in Scout’s number in Puerto Morelos.

  Lily answered. “Buenas tardes, Scout’s Dive Shop.”

  “Hola Lily, this is Kendall Jackson, is Scout there?”

  She could hear movement and then static as if Lily had placed the phone down and run out to the beach. “Hello, Lily, hello, are you still there?” Another minute went by, and finally she heard someone picking up the phone.

  “Kendall? Kendall? Are you there?” It was Scout. She smiled at the sound of his rough low voice.

  “I’m here, did I catch you at a bad time?”

  Scout was out of breath, breathing heavily. “No, no, not at all, I was just out with the boat on the beach.” He took a deep breath in. “It’s so nice to hear your voice.”

  Taken aback by the sincerity and the warmth in his tone, she spoke from the heart. “It’s so nice to hear your voice, Scout.”

  A nervous silence filled the line. “I want to come see the cenote, Tim’s cenote, the one he wanted us to see from the beginning.” She paused. “I haven’t spoken to Ryder yet…I’m not sure if he will be coming with us, but with or without him, I want to finish what Tim wanted. There are some things I discovered, that I really can’t talk about right now, but I will explain when I come down. I need to see this through. I need to understand.”

  Her breath accelerated, as she shook her foot up and down in a nervous twitch. “Does your offer still stand? Scout, will you hike me back in there and take me to the cenote?” She ran her fingers through her hair, not breathing until he answered.

  “Yes, I will take you. It’s a difficult, longer hike in and out, more days of camping, but I can have everything ready by the end of the month. What date do you think you can be down here?”

  ****

  After the phone call, she sat in her messy office staring out at an imaginary point, her mouth turned up in a genuine smile. She clicked on Facebook and sent Ryder a private message. She wanted this trip to be important to him. She had purposely withheld the contents of the briefcase. Now she needed to explain, she needed to share. He was Tim’s son.

  What held her back initially was the fear of Ryder’s discussing it with his mother. She was sure if Tricia knew, she would go to the press, and make a publicity stunt of the briefcase, appearing on 20/20 to obtain fifteen more minutes of fame. She hoped she could persuade Ryder to keep it a secret.

  Secrets, how did that become the word of the day. Late last night, when she was looking at the photos of the various presidents, she noticed something strange and she wanted to discuss it with Andrew. The idea of sharing the cenote map was also crossing her mind. She trusted him.

  Then she thought of the text on the day of the Camp David hike. “Be careful who you trust. All is not as it seems.” Who sent that?

  ****

  It was six-thirty p.m. She looked down at her black blouse and skirt, and shrugged. She did not have time to go home and change but she would at least freshen up before her dinner with Conrad Nathaniel.

  Even though she had not yet heard back from Ryder, she smiled. Her plan with Scout gave her new energy, and his last comment on the phone stirred up some pulse point in her lower region and a lightheaded feeling. Scout said softly before they disconnected, “Kendall, I can’t stop thinking of you.”

  ****

  Andrew answered on the first ring. “Kendall, how are you? I’ve been thinking about you and wanted to share something I discovered.” His voice sounded secretive.

  “Really?” she replied. “I found something I think might be of interest to you as well.”

  He lowered his voice. “When can we meet?”

  She wished she could meet him now; she wondered how long dinner would last tonight.

  “Well, I have a dinner meeting tonight with our keynote speaker, Conrad Nathaniel, so depending on how late you’re up, we could meet afterward at my place?”

  Silence. A deep breath. “I’m not sure how to say this…” a long pause. “Be careful with Conrad Nathaniel. Between you and me, there’s just something about that man I don’t trust.”

  “Why? What are you referring to?”

  Andrew cleared his throat. “It’s nothing, probably just an over-active imagination of an old man. I always feel like he’s hiding something. Just be careful; I’m sure the rumors are true about him being a ladies’ man. You know he is supposed to be one of the most eligible bachelors in Baltimore.”

  She smiled, it was concern she heard in the Professor’s voice. “Don’t worry about me, it is strictly business, I won’t let him take advantage of me.”

  Chapter 44

  The city lights flashed by to a background of classical music, creating a sophisticated atmosphere inside the quiet, gray leather interior. Kendall was silent, inhaling the new car smell from the Tesla model X sports car. Conrad was on the phone

  Speeding down Route 140, through Owings Mills, he was taking her to an old favorite dinner club in Baltimore, adding, “They have the juiciest of steaks.”

  Conrad smelled of old money, money passed on from generation to generation, perhaps piled up high in a corner of an endless attic.

  She studied him. His perfectly cut, contemporary hair, strong chin, balanced face and gray eyes. Putting together his bio for the students’ introduction, they were both June babies, two days apart, same year. She believed a natural connection existed meeting someone your exact age. Both introduced to the world at the same time, equal chances to win the same race, no generation gap, and society and historical influences equal, at least if you grew up in America.

  She felt no such kindred spirit with Conrad. Certain they did not start the same race.

  He grinned and hit a button on the dashboard; a panel turned over, and he took an object out, held it in his closed fist and offered it to her. “Hold out your hand.”

  “Excuse me?” Why did he make her nervous?

  “Hold out your hand, please.” She opened her palm; he dropped the copper coin. “Penny for your thoughts?”

  She took a deep breath; her father used to say the same thing to her when she was a little girl. It was their special thing.

  “I really wasn’t thinking much.”

  He raised his eyebrows, she answered, “I guess I was thinking you and I are basically the same age, but extremely different.”

  His side profile reminded her of the actor Channing Tatum. She bit her lip, her thoughts going back to the days when she and Tim would play what famous person someone looked like. Intuitively, she still did this.

  Conrad, perceptive, laughed, “What?…I didn’t even respond yet so why are you frowning?”

  He swiped a button on his dashboard. Bon Jovi’s “Living on a Prayer” started beating. “Well, if we’re both 80s kids then we should know this song.” Conrad began moving in the seat, a strange but funny little dance that made her laugh. It was unexpected, almost out of character for the successful executive. He smiled. “John Bon Jovi, 1986, Richie Sambora on the mouth box.”

  She touched his hand, a strange sensation shot through her fingers, she placed the copper penny in his hand. “Your turn…”

  He turned the music down slowly, and his eyes went back to the road, as he visibly abandoned whatever he was thinking of. “It makes me remember college, you know. Fun times.”


  Surprised by the answer, she asked, “University of Southern California?”

  “No.” He made a left turn and she realized they were on Calvert Street, downtown Baltimore. “Western Maryland College.”

  They had pulled up in front of a restaurant, Prime Rib. Walking in reminded her of a throwback to a 1960s supper club in New York City. The wait staff all wore tuxedos, looked distinguished, handsome and glided gracefully around the room. The decor was upscale black walls with cream molding, vintage leopard carpet, and lighted individual paintings, giving an overwhelming romantic vibe. Throw in an owner who greets you by name, whisks you to a dimly lit back corner, and there was no doubt Conrad had been here before.

  She caught the roaming eyes of men and women, who quickly looked away so as not to be seen staring.

  She pulled a miniature silver tape recorder out of her purse. Conrad raised one eyebrow. “Would you mind if I tape your answers to my questions?” Without giving him a chance to answer, she continued, “I told the students on the Commencement committee I would tape our interview.” Shoulders back and sitting up taller, she was trying to keep it on a professional level. Conrad raised himself on his elbows, clasped his hands together and rested his chin on his knuckles, looking directly at her.

  “Well, how many questions do you have, Ms. Jackson?”

  She took her iPhone out, pulling up her list. “Only ten; shall we get started?”

  He leaned back in his chair, gazing first at the tape recorder, and then at her, swirling a glass of pinot noir. “Let’s do it this way, you get to ask me your students’ ten questions and then I get to ask you ten questions before the evening ends. Deal?”

  The electricity in the space between them intensified. “Well, I will certainly try to answer ten questions, but since I have no idea what topic you would be questioning me on, I make no promises. Deal?”

  The corners of his mouth turned up. “Let’s get your questions out of the way before our delicious juicy steaks are delivered.”

  Answering the formal interview questions, he slipped right back into the successful entrepreneur and man of science he was. The students had several questions on breathing underwater and he explained in great detail about the oxygenation of blood that allows humans to be alive. His invention used a type of oxygen micro particle that, when injected directly into the bloodstream, allowed a human being to breathe underwater for thirty minutes. A breakthrough technology for the private sector; the injection of oxygen could be lifesaving.

  Conrad held a wine glass to toast, “Here’s to a delicious meal with a beautiful woman. Now we can begin our date.”

  She swallowed uncomfortably, but clinked his glass. “A business date,” she added with a smile and a nod.

  He held his wine glass in the air before bringing the glass to his lips. “Okay, with that said, Kendall, here’s your first question. Have you been on any date…in the past eighteen months?”

  His straightforwardness and to-the-point attention increased his attractiveness. She focused on her napkin, then directly into his eyes. “No. I have not been on a date since Tim passed away.”

  He did not look away; he didn’t even look slightly uncomfortable. He delicately stabbed a piece of prime rib and continued eating. The space between them charged with electricity.

  He wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin and remarked, “Well then, it’s about time.” He lowered his voice. “Let’s just get the first date out of the way.” His stare so intent, was he looking into her soul? He continued, “Kendall, young gorgeous Kendall, who has a whole life ahead of you, you have now been on a date as a widow.” He smiled sincerely. “You can thank me later.”

  He appeared genuine. Most folks would not even utter the word widow.

  She found herself engaged and enjoying the conversation. Conrad’s other questions were lighter, focusing on her students, her position at Western Maryland, and then the subject turned to diving.

  Conrad emptied the delicious pinot noir into both their glasses, and taking a sip, he asked, “Have you been diving in the last eighteen months?”

  “I suppose this is one of your ten questions. What are we on, eight now?”

  Conrad smiled lighting up his handsome face. “I see you’re counting…But technically that was number seven.” He returned to the last question. “Well, have you been diving, since…” he paused.

  “Yes,” She slowly answered. “My stepson and I just got back from Mexico, and we did a little diving.”

  “I love Mexico, especially the area around Playa Del Carmen, beautiful white soft beaches, the color of the water is just a perfect aquamarine blue. Where did you go in Mexico?”

  She hesitated; she wasn’t sure why, but she lied. “We were in Cancun, staying in one of those all-inclusive resorts. You know, we just wanted to get away, try to keep the connection going between the two of us. Ryder, my stepson, is in a reality TV show in Arizona. He has quite the busy schedule, so it was fortunate we got to spend any time together at all.”

  Conrad smiled and seemed to be enjoying himself. “I promised I would tell you the story of how Tim saved my life…he never told you the story?”

  She shook her head. Conrad continued, “I was interested in the sport of free diving, and we were in the Bahamas, training to see if I could compete. Tim was not interested in the free diving competition, although he could beat any one of us who were attempting to break each other’s records. It’s really more than a sport, it’s where you hold your breath and go as deep as you possibly can on one breath and then make it back to the surface safely. However, it is so much more than that…it’s about being in a place where nothing else matters. In that moment, underwater, you’ve taken one breath, your mind is focused on one thing; it’s a mental sport as much as a physical, and the beauty and quiet are unimaginable. You can conceive how dolphins and sharks feel in that moment diving down.” Conrad was getting lost in the memory. “I suffered hypoxia, the effect of not being able to think coherently, my vision was affected and then the blackout, the loss of consciousness. The next thing I remember was Tim…I didn’t even know he was in the water with me, no one really noticed he reacted in a flash. He was so fast he actually gave me breath, which many people say not to do, but I didn’t have any water in my lungs, I didn’t suffer any damages. Tim saved my life.”

  Conrad spoke slowly. “He rescued me, and he gave me the drive to figure out how to breathe underwater, because I believe, Kendall, anything is possible, your husband proved that to me when they said it was impossible that I survived.”

  Staring at the features of Conrad’s face, she spoke softly. “Wow, I’ve never heard that story. Tim was not one to be the public hero, I think he was a silent hero more times than I know.” She paused, her thoughts going to his secrecy. “So, do you compete in free diving today?”

  “No, I never competed after that day Tim saved my life, I still do some free diving but nothing intense, I’m not trying to break any records.”

  “Well, now if you just took one of your pills or your injections you invented, you could free dive and break all the records.”

  “Yes, my invention could change the whole sport of free diving, it would be like the baseball players taking performance-enhancing drugs to cheat the system. Now they will have to test free divers for drugs.” They both laughed.

  Kendall, without intention, was enjoying the charming company of Conrad Nathaniel. She may have been wrong when she thought they didn’t have anything in common despite being the same age. His straightforwardness on Tim’s death was refreshing. He did not look at her with pity, and he didn’t play the avoidance game most people hid behind in conversation, afraid to mention the death of a spouse for more than two minutes. His story of Tim saving his life made Kendall love Tim even more.

  Driving back to the college, where her car had been left in the faculty parking lot. He looked over at her and smiled, “I still have three more questions left.”

  She relaxed; his questions
were easy. “Well, fire away.”

  He turned the music down. “So, tell me…what were you really doing at Camp David?”

  It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice-cold water on her face. She was so shocked she couldn’t respond immediately. Trying to get her thoughts in order, she blurted out, “Do you work for the government?”

  He touched her hand. “I’m asking the questions, Kendall, remember, it’s my turn.” He flashed his charming look at her as if he were asking about her choice of dessert. “What were you looking for at Camp David?”

  Her chest pounded. Random thoughts flashed through her mind. Possible scenarios of Tim and Conrad working together in some kind of secret service…Conrad trying to protect Kendall or Tim…or Conrad knowing about the briefcase. It didn’t make sense.

  She looked down at her lap and turned her face aside composing her expression, hiding her sudden burst of adrenaline, then looked directly at Conrad. “I was hiking, mushroom picking with Dr. A, you know, Andrew Lunardini, right? Crazy thing, we were accidentally up near the outside perimeter and my dog chased a rabbit, and the next thing we knew we were inside the perimeter of Camp David.” She pasted a fake smile on her face. “Didn’t get to actually see the complex itself, apparently we were way outside of the actual Camp David, near the private golf course. So, now answer my question—how would you know that?”

  Conrad pulled into the parking lot behind the football field below the Decker Center. He was staring straight ahead, silent. He turned to face her, his eyes reflecting what appeared to be sincerity. His mouth was set in a serious line.

  “I have a proposition for you. I would like to help you find what you’re looking for.”

  Her mind was racing. Was Conrad friends with Andrew? She had told no one about the Camp David incident. Did her beloved Professor tell Conrad about Tim’s briefcase? A darkness crept over her, an ominous heat started inside traveling to her face. She needed air. Her first impressions appeared to have been right, because right now she didn’t trust him at all. She glanced at the door to figure out how to open it.