by A. K. Smith
“I still have two questions left.” His voice sounded serious. Kendall struggled with the door panel, trying to determine how to open the Tesla’s falcon wings. She gripped the seat; her heart pounding.
“Kendall, what’s in Tim’s briefcase? I know it wasn’t just his divorce papers, just some saved legal documents.”
She found the latch to open the door; Conrad squeezed her shoulder. Her breath quickened.
“There’s something I want to show you. Somewhere I need to take you, trust me; Kendall, there’s something you need to see.” His voice lowered, sounding sincere. “I know about The Collective. I know Tim was part of The Collective, and so is Steve Crawford. I know what they’ve been searching for, I understand what they are after, and we mustn’t let this get in the hands of the government. The government will keep it to themselves and mankind will never get to benefit.”
Sweating, her heart beat accelerating, she had to get out of the car. Nothing made sense. Trust him? He knows all this and he tried to use his handsome charm all night and now he brings it up? Something was wrong, alarmingly off center.
His voice grew louder. “Do you understand the importance of this? Do you understand the magnitude of what I am referring to?” She jerked her shoulder away from his hand, stepped out of the car, and stood up, trying to take small measured breaths and hide her need for air to fill her lungs. She needed to get out of here.
“No, I have no idea what you’re referring to…and I believe that’s ten questions.” She tried not to run to her car, but walked slowly; she didn’t turn around to see if he would follow. She used the button on her remote control to start the engine and unlock the doors. The noise gave her some sense of normalcy as she opened the door and climbed in. The key clanged against the ignition, her hand shaking uncontrollably as she hit the door lock. In the rearview mirror he stood still beside his car.
Chapter 45
Kendall bolted the doors, yanked the blinds down and turned on multiple lights. Safer in the light. Grateful his master was home, sweet, shaggy, black Harvey ran up to her, jumping up, his paws on her shoulders as if to hug her.
Hugging Harvey with one arm, she grabbed her phone. It shook in her hand as she scrolled through the contacts, desperately trying to figure out who to call.
Was Dr. A involved? Was Steve Crawford working with Tim or was he working with Conrad? The words “The Collective” and “hands of the government” were flashing through her mind, repeating like a radio loop. Conrad’s statement etched in her memory. “I know what they are after and we mustn’t let this get in the hands of the government. The government will keep it to themselves and mankind will never get to benefit.”
She yelled, “What will the government keep to themselves?” She buried her head in her hands. Tears ran down her face; loneliness and fear were thick in the room. Impossible, a lonely, widowed college administrator at a small private liberal arts school—involved in some type of government conspiracy? “Tim, what were you involved in?” She swallowed a massive lump in her throat. “What do I do?” She slumped to the floor.
****
It was at times like these she wished she had a family member to contact, even a best friend. With the loss of her father so many years ago, Tim had become Kendall’s go-to guy—go-to person. Her mother, who still lived in Pennsylvania, was in the early stages of dementia. She would light up when Tim visited and she always knew who he was, but now when she called, she would ask how Tim was doing. She tried on several visits to explain Tim died in a diving accident; her mother would look at her with despair and grief in her eyes and repeat, “Why are you lying to me, Kendall? Tim is not dead.”
So for the last six months, she would tell her mother what she wanted to hear, Tim was fine, just working or traveling. She hated the mantra of repeating it, saying the words aloud. When the false words came out of her mouth, she wanted them to be the truth. No, she could not call her mother.
That left a short list. She had no one to blame but herself for the world she had created, a world without close friends. Sure, she had lots of colleagues and acquaintances but she no longer had a best friend. Her childhood best friend had been long gone, replaced by Tim, now she had no one.
She hit Ryder’s contact name on her phone. She knew he wouldn’t answer.
“Ryder, it’s Kendall,” her voice cracked and she was holding back the tears as she swallowed. “I would really like to talk to you. Please call me when you get this message. It’s important. It’s really important.”
Next she called Scout. As she listened to the strange ringtone signaling she was calling Mexico, she remembered something Conrad had said to her specifically. He asked what was in the briefcase, stating he knew it wasn’t divorce papers, or some saved legal documents. Her face was burning up, she clutched her stomach. She used those exact words on a phone call or perhaps when she was talking to Steve. She dropped her iPhone as if she had never seen it before. Someone is listening to my phone conversations.
Just then Scout answered, “Hola.” She scrambled to pick the phone off the floor.
“Hi Scout,” Kendall paused, took a deep breath and exhaled. She knew what she must do.
“Kendall? Is everything okay? How are you?” Scout’s voice was full of joy.
“Scout, I wish I could explain it to you…It’s difficult; it just doesn’t make sense even to me. But…I can’t come to visit you, not now, maybe not ever—I just want to figure things out here, things I can’t explain to you…I’m so sorry…” A tear was running down her face.
“Kendall, what’s wrong? You don’t sound okay, you can talk to me, tell me what’s going on.” Scout’s optimistic voice had dramatically changed to a cautious, “dark side” voice sounding like he was on high alert.
She clenched her hands into fists. “I wish I could, Scout, but it’s impossible, everything is just impossible. I am sorry. You take care of yourself, Scout…again, I’m sorry but I have to go,” and with that she disconnected.
She scanned the beloved interior of her home. Had someone stolen her privacy? Bugged her home, her phone? Why? Nausea rose in her throat. She had no idea how to find a microphone or camera. In the James Bond movies, hidden microphones could be the size of a piece of pepper.
She ran to her laptop, to send Scout a message, her hand froze on the keyboard; e-mails were vulnerable as well. She wanted to throw her phone across the room, but thought of camera’s, she hit play on her iPod, put down her phone, picked up Harvey’s leash, and went out for a walk. She had some thinking to do.
****
For a brief moment Kendall forgot what had transpired the night before. Then reality set in, and paranoia took over, picturing hidden devices she showered and changed in the bathroom. She acted as if it were any other day. At about ten o’clock in the morning, she left a message for the Professor.
“Andrew, I have some things I need to talk to you about. Could we meet in our old lunch spot at noon today?”
At lunchtime Andrew was waiting for her outside the Lewis Science Center.
“Did you forget your lunch? You can share my turkey and cheese if you like.” Andrew’s smile usually warmed her heart. He studied her expression. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?” He placed his hand on her shoulder.
“Let’s walk.” Kendall hooked her arm with his. “It’s such a beautiful day, let’s go sit outside the golf clubhouse and I’ll share your sandwich with you.”
The Rembert house, from the early 1800s, was the oldest building on campus and located right on the golf course. A few years ago, the Campus Development Office raised funds and with the help of sandblasting brought an historical building back to life in all its splendor. Beside the residence, a picturesque small park full of trees offered a bench.
She sat down, and rubbed her hands on her thighs. In a firm voice without hesitation she asked, “How does Conrad Nathaniel know we were detained at Camp David?” She searched his eyes, trying to determine whether he was someon
e she could trust. She prayed she could, she needed someone.
His eyes widened and he ran his thumb and index finger around his chin. “I have no idea, Kendall. I haven’t told a soul.”
“Think about it, Andrew. You didn’t tell anyone? Maybe in a phone conversation, you mentioned it to somebody?” She asked gently.
He placed his hand on hers. “Kendall, I haven’t spoken a word about Camp David or anything we’ve been researching or looking at.” He paused. “Why? Did he ask you about Camp David?”
“He did, last night at our dinner. Well, actually, he asked me at the end of our evening. He wanted to know the real reason I was at Camp David.” She scanned the golf course. No one was in the area; still she lowered her voice. “He wants to show me something, something he said I need to see. He said these exact words: ‘I know what they are after, we can’t let this get in the hands of the government. The government will keep it to themselves. Mankind will never get to benefit.’”
Andrew unwrapped his sandwich. He set it down and asked, “Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?” He took a bite of his sandwich and swallowed. “He said mankind will never get to benefit?”
She studied the Professor’s face and body language. Could she tell him she thought her phone or house was bugged. Her heart told her Dr. A was okay but just as she kept the old cenote map hidden, even from him, she held back her thoughts about being bugged.
“I don’t know, Andrew, maybe this is bigger than me, maybe I should go to the police or call the FBI. Seriously, I can’t believe I am talking about the FBI, that it’s even part of my vocabulary. I don’t know what to do.” She stood up and paced in front of the park bench, twisting her hands.
He patted the bench beside him. “Sit down. Please. Tell me everything Conrad said to you. Let’s talk this through before you call any authorities and certainly not the FBI, I don’t know why everyone thinks of them first. There is something I didn’t tell you yet as well; I figured out something interesting about the cemetery and the photos.”
****
Her mind scattered like an unfinished jigsaw puzzle, she rushed back to the office. She had a meeting regarding Commencement weekend with the President of the College, she didn’t want to be late. Her lunch hour became hours, while Andrew explained to her what he discovered about the men in the photos. Nothing made sense.
The idea came to her as she was sitting in the meeting. She asked Raj, a student worker for a favor, he was quick to return, handing her the bag from the drugstore. At the end of the day, she grabbed her new purchase and walked toward Harvey Stone Park. The sun’s rays spotlighted the green leaves of the majestic oaks illuminating the walkway with life. Students lounged on blankets in the quad, their faces turned toward the warmth of the sun and the friendship of each other.
She unfolded the piece of paper with the name and number of the Palapa Bar down the road from Scout’s Dive Shop and entered the international number on her new prepaid cell phone. The owner of the bar, Tony answered. She had met him briefly with Scout and hoped he would remember her. He did. He was another New Jersey retiree in paradise, living the expat life. She gave specific instructions for Scout to call this new number and not from his phone or dive shop. He said he understood without any questions.
Next call, Ryder’s publicist, Courtney Clay. She always liked Courtney, who helped arrange for Ryder’s time off for Puerto Morelos and after the fiasco on the trip, Courtney was still a fan of Kendall’s. In Courtney’s view, all publicity is good publicity.
“Hi Courtney, It’s Kendall, I can’t seem to reach Ryder. I can’t explain it to you right now, but I don’t want Ryder to use his phone to call me back. Could you let him use your cell phone and have him call me at this number? It’s important.”
“Kendall, what’s going on? Is there something I should be informed about?”
In her most sincere flight attendant voice she whispered. “Courtney, that’s why I’m calling you instead of Tricia. I promise as soon as I can explain, I will. If you can do this for me, trust me, if there’s any way to get good publicity for Ryder—and I think there will be—you will be the first to know.”
“Consider it done, Ryder will call you back tonight.”
Another call was coming in. By the strange numbers, it had to be Mexico. She hoped it was Scout.
“Kendall, is that you? It’s Scout.”
“Oh Scout, thank you for calling me back.”
“Is everything okay?”
Her shoulders relaxed and her face grew warm. “Are you at the Palapa bar?”
“Yes, Tony was nice enough to let me use his phone, but what’s going on?”
She took a deep breath. “I wish I could tell you…explain, but I can’t right now. But the most important thing, I am coming down there, I just had to tell you something different last night. I think either my house or my cell phone is bugged…I wish I could explain everything to you right now but something I said in a conversation was repeated back to me from a total stranger who seems to know a whole lot about Tim’s background and secret past.”
Slow down. Breathe. “I’m thinking since my house was broken into, maybe they planted a bug, and since your dive shop was broken into, maybe they planted a microphone there or else they tapped our phones…Do they even tap phones anymore? I have no idea how any of that stuff works.” She paused. “It’s not my imagination. Tim was involved with something secretive with the government. I know this sounds crazy.”
“Really…” Scout was speechless.
“Do you believe me, Scout?”
“I believe you. Do you think it has something to do with the cenote? Kendall, people from out of town were down here in Puerto Morelos, looking into the area of the cenote you, Ryder, and I went to. Apparently, they were asking questions,” he whispered.
“Someone knew where we went. Who knows, maybe they think there’s a hidden treasure or something? The map I have from Tim, it’s old…maybe it’s valuable, worth some money. But don’t worry, the map is safe,” he continued, “and I’ll make sure it stays safe. What can I do? I want to help you. Do you want me to come up there?”
His concerned voice tugged at her emotions, she held back the tears.
“I really am here for you, if there is something I can help you with, let me do it.”
“Thanks Scout. Just talking to you, makes me feel better. I don’t know who I can trust anymore, but I trust you. There’s so much I want to share with you but it’s smarter to speak in person.” She added in a whisper, swallowing the lump in her throat, “Without anybody knowing, I need to find the cenote from Tim’s map.”
Before they hung up, they created a plan of action. She was not giving up. She would risk everything to find the truth. She needed to know what was going on, not just for Tim but for herself.
****
She raced over to the Lewis Hall of Science, and up to the conference room. Andrew was sitting there with his notebook in front of him.
“Busy day?” he asked.
She clutched a folder with the printouts of the pictures of the presidents. She laid them out on the table in chronological order.
“I want you to look at something I found.” She pulled the magnifying glass out of her purse. “Look at his collarbone; what do you see?”
He leaned closer to the table with the magnifying glass. “It looks like a mark? Is it on the camera? Or is it a mark on his shoulder like a birthmark?”
“Look at the shoulder of every man without a shirt on in these photos.” Andrew went from picture to picture with the magnifying glass examining each one.
“Well, it can’t be the same person so what do you think? Some kind of tribe or family that has the same tattoo on their collarbone?”
“I don’t know,” Kendall remarked. “I just can’t make sense of it.” She didn’t say what she really wanted to disclose.
She gathered up the photos and placed her hands on top of them, looking at the thousands of books that li
ned the wall. “You said you had something to tell me, something you discovered?” Andrew studied her face and pulled out his notepad and a map.
“Yes, the coordinates we found led to the cemetery, I went back there the other night, and it is the Nathaniel cemetery…It’s pinpointed to a private mausoleum. It’s possible there could be a tunnel underground from the mausoleum to, I don’t know, maybe somewhere near Camp David?”
“Hmm…why, why do you need a tunnel from the Nathaniel cemetery to Camp David?” She chewed on the end of the pen, wrinkled her brow, she needed to ask, “Have you ever heard of The Collective?”
“The Collective? What is that?” The Professor looked up from the map, his full attention on Kendall.
“I don’t know—it’s something Conrad said the other night after dinner. He said Tim was part of The Collective and so was Steve Crawford. Maybe it’s the name of a government organization they both belong to. The ID I found…” she was writing the words The Collective at the top of a piece of paper with the names Tim and Steve Crawford underneath it, and an arrow going over to Conrad Nathaniel’s name.
The Professor leaned back in his chair. “He said Steve Crawford?” She nodded. “When was the last time you spoke with Steve Crawford?”
“I’ve been keeping my distance,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Why, what happened?”
“Nothing really, I don’t know it’s a feeling I have…he’s left me several messages and I’ve never returned them.” She stood. “Maybe it’s time I paid a visit to Steve.”
Chapter 46
Kendall pulled her black Saab into the parking lot of Jackson’s Easy. Steve’s Porsche was parked in the back. She entered the code at the door and walked inside. Busy for a weeknight, executives and locals engaged in quiet conversations, filling the stools curved around the bar. Steve in the middle of a conversation, paused. “Be right back,” and walked from behind the bar next to her.
“So this is how you return my messages—show up in person?” Steve smiled, leaning in to hug her; she stepped back.