Chapter 27
Six Weeks Later
Beth nibbled her nails and cringed at the bitter taste of the polish she’d brushed on as a precaution. She turned to the window and watched fluffy flakes of snow falling to the ground. Outside cars honked and commuters whizzed by as they tackled the first real storm of the year. Beth had been to Washington D.C. many times before, but always in the spring or summer when cherry blossoms bloomed and the beltway was full of tourists jockeying their way into the city to glimpse the Smithsonian or Lincoln sitting stately and proud in his chair. She’d never seen snow on the dome of the Capitol.
There was a slight rap on the door of the conference room where she waited. “Yes,” she called and turned from the window.
A young woman walked in, looking professional in a forest green skirt and silk blouse with a geometric-shaped pin on her lapel. Her auburn hair was twisted in a loose bun and her hand held a brown accordion folder. She extended her slender palm. “Hello, Mrs. Stoddard. I’m Danielle Petty. I’m a congressional aide and I’ll be assisting you today. How was your flight?”
Beth shook the girl’s hand. She looked so perky and alive as if she’d never seen danger or sadness. Beth glanced down at her charcoal wool pants and cranberry sweater and felt so very worldly and so very tired.
Danielle pulled out a chair and gestured for Beth to sit as she turned to pull out her own. “I’m going to cover the components of the proceeding so you’ll know what to expect.”
“Have the others arrived?” Beth asked and surprised herself.
Danielle tugged out a stack of stapled documents from her folder. “Yes, Mr. DeJohn and Mr. Bauman arrived together a few minutes ago. They’re being briefed in the other room. We’re just waiting for your husband--or ex-husband I understand.”
“Estranged,” Beth said and felt so foolish.
Danielle fanned the documents across the table. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
“The weather was quite bad in Ontario from what we’ve determined. His flight was delayed, but he should be landing right about now,” she said as she glanced at her watch. “We’ll get him here as soon as possible.”
And then Beth felt it--the annoying tug of concern that he’d be okay on an icy runway. Even worse, she felt the more aggressive annoying tug of anticipation for seeing him walk through the door.
They hadn’t been together since Chris had been whisked from the catacomb of the fortress. He’d refused her visit in the hospital and aside from a few brief phone calls arranging Noah and Audrey’s visit over Thanksgiving break, she hadn’t spoken to him. She had offered to drive the kids to Garrity when he’d come home from his stay at the Institute, but he’d refused, arguing that Noah was old enough to guide his sister through a supervised two-hour flight. Beth was hesitant because Noah was only ten she told herself and terrorists loomed and evil was never very far away. Not because she wanted to drive them home; to pull into the driveway and see him standing on the porch with Sundance at his side and the welcoming light of the living room lamp glowing in the window.
They compromised and Francine flew with the kids, stopping in Toronto for a long weekend with her sister. Noah had been thrilled to see his father after three grueling months. He was so sad that night they’d returned to Old Saybrook and had only recently perked up with the vision of the Christmas visit with his father coming into view.
Danielle shuffled her chair closer and handed Beth what looked to be a diagram of the floor and labeled seats. “The four of you--Mr. DeJohn, Mr. Bauman, Mr. Stoddard and yourself--will be seated here,” she pointed to a conference table. “All of you will be called upon to speak. The exact order I’m not certain since I don’t have the final agenda in front of me, but the best rule of thumb is to be prepared and not at all hesitant. I trust you’ve prepared something?”
Beth nodded and fought the urge to bite her nail.
“All right then. The entire procedure may take several hours since other experts will also be on hand.” Danielle bumped the papers against the wood of the table to straighten them once again. “The floor can be an intimidating place, but I have every confidence in you and your colleagues.” Danielle pushed up and extended her palm once again. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Stoddard. Thank you for being part of this and good luck.”
Beth stood too, tall and what she hoped didn’t translate into intimidated. “My pleasure.”
Danielle walked to the door with confidence and held the knob. “Mr. DeJohn and Mr. Bauman should be finishing up as well. Would you like to wait with them?”
“Please,” Beth said because it had to be better than standing here alone, staring at the fluffy snow and thinking.
“Follow me.”
The corridor was alive with suited men holding cappuccinos, talking into cell phones and impeccably dressed women who zipped by clutching phones of their own and designer briefcases. “Right this way,” Danielle said and then paused before a closed door. “Let me just be sure they’ve finished.
Danielle rapped and peeked inside. Beth waited and wondered what she’d feel when she saw George again. They’d talked several times, but George had just been released from the hospital three days before. She’d told him that she hadn’t visited because she didn’t want to leave Noah and Audrey so soon after the ordeal had ended, but the real reason was she didn’t know what to say when there was just the quiet of the two of them alone in a room. A quick phone call to monitor his progress while her parents sat nearby was one thing. Looking at him--wounded and still in love with her--was another thing all together.
“They’re finished. Go on in,” Danielle said with a lovely smile. “I’ll see you in about forty-five minutes.”
Beth pushed open the door that had never completely closed. Deej and his wife sat side by side at a conference table. George, looking thin and a bit pale with a heavy gauze bandage still at his neck, sat on the other. The two men stood, but Beth motioned them down again. “Don’t you dare! Let me come to you.” She gave Deej a tight hug.
“Hi, Roxanne,” Beth said and gave Deej’s plump wife a quick embrace as well. “I’m so sorry to have kept your husband from you all that time.”
“I knew he was in good hands,” she said with her always friendly smile.
Beth moved to George and squatted before him. “Hello.”
He tilted his head and touched her hair. “Hello to you.”
“You’re looking good and healthy.”
“I’m feeling well. I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks.”
Beth covered his hand that was on her cheek with her own. “You’re the only guy I know of who looks forward to speaking before Congress.”
“It needs to be said.”
“It does,” Beth said and slid into the chair beside him.
***
Chris hopped out of the car and slammed the door, not waiting for the courier who had picked him up at the airport. He bolted toward the side entrance of the building. “Chris Stoddard,” he said to the uniform who stood guard.
“Expecting you.” The guy glanced at his watch. “You’re late, they’ve already started. The guide inside will take you right to the floor.”
“Weather,” Chris said as he lunged.
“I understand,” he heard the guy say as he hurried through.
The guide escorted him through the echoing corridor. It was the kind of building that you should be in awe of; the kind of place that should drum up visions of George Washington and independence. But Chris had been raised in Philly and seen too much of what the world could do to be in awe of much.
“Thanks,” Chris muttered as the guide stopped at the door. “Chris Stoddard,” he said to another standing watch.
The bulky guy nodded, nudged open the door and pointed Chris to a table. He saw Deej and George.
And then he saw Beth.
He sucked in a breath he’d surely need, adjusted his tie and moved quietly to the seat that was thankfully on the oppos
ite side of the table from hers.
“Punctual,” Deej whispered as Chris slid into the chair.
“Damn weather.”
He caught George’s eye and gave a small salute. George responded with a nod-- hard for him since a heavy bandage was still stuck to his neck. Then Chris looked at Beth and his heart did that same damn thing it had done the first day, so long ago now--before they were estranged, before they were parents, before they were lovers, before they were even friends. It did that thing it did when he looked at the only thing he’d ever really wanted. He broke the contact because it was his only choice and reached for the glass of water that he hoped was his.
***
“Thank you,” Beth said and flipped her notes face down.
She’d done it. She’d addressed the United States Congress with authority on a subject she knew far too much about.
Deej had spoken of the need to strengthen the laws that governed cult-like behavior.
George spoke about the rights of those victimized by the twisted thinking.
Beth spoke of the necessity for further study on the subject of why some individuals are more easily swayed into joining the bizarre worlds of false messiahs.
Now it was Chris’ turn.
She’d managed to all but avoid him so far; avoid his glaring good looks and his very presence at the end of the table. There had been a brief recess between George’s speech and hers. Chris stood up, stretched his frame that was thick and healthy again and didn’t look at her once as he chatted with Deej and flashed that smile that was sharper than any knife could ever be.
Maybe it had taken her twelve years to realize it, or maybe it had taken just a little time for her to be away from him, but she was certain now that Christopher Stoddard’s smile was her vampire’s garlic or werewolf’s silver bullet.
It was too damned powerful.
She talked with George and tried to really see him as someone who could fill her the way Chris had, make her long the way Chris had, even piss her off the way Chris could. But all she saw was a man who needed more than she could ever give him and it wasn’t fair to make him believe something else.
Beth sipped her water, cleared her throat and almost fell off of her chair when she noticed that a gold stud was back in Chris’ left earlobe.
Someone announced that the recess had ended and Beth was on. She did her best not to look at him; to pull it off and be convincing and wise and brave. She did her best to make these men and women sitting before her believe, but all Beth truly wanted was a reverse button in her life--to go back and figure out exactly where the love that had been so powerful had decided to derail.
The most frightening knowledge of all was that right now, in this moment, she no longer was sure that it had.
After her speech ended and she settled back into her chair, George patted her knee and whispered, “Good job.”
Deej nodded with a smile and Roxanne, who sat several rows behind the table, caught Beth’s eye and mouthed, “Well done.”
Chris seemed to intentionally avoid looking at her. He took a swallow of water and then started to speak almost immediately.
It was always surprising to hear the articulation and sheer intelligence come from this guy who looked more like a Marlboro man than a bright and insightful law enforcer. Chris had conviction and used it when he told of his ordeal and admitted his fear before he argued the need for sharper laws and tougher sentences.
“So often we’re guilty of sitting in the comfort of our homes and feigning our surprise and disgust when a horrific story of abuse and greed flashes across the news. We moan and complain and often feel genuine concern for the victims of these heinous crimes; but when you’re in it and feeling it, it’s another thing all together.
“I’ve been on four sides of madness; I too have been the quiet observer, watching from my living room and feeling sorry, but grateful that it wasn’t me or mine this time. I’ve been on the side which works to uphold my oath as a law enforcement officer to destroy the threat of harm; and I’ve sat and watched someone I care about suffer at the hands of true evil and been helpless to stop it.”
Beth pursed her lips and reached for her water.
“And most recently I’ve been the victim. I was helpless and abused and frightened. I was lucky. I’m here today. Not all victims are.” Chris met the eyes of the Cult Victimization Taskforce’s chairman. “Something has to be done; something more than we’ve been doing. Allow me be the last victim. That would be my greatest honor.”
Beth glanced around to see nods and even some quiet applause.
They were free to go.
Deej led the way through the door, beaming and hugging each of his agents when they reached the hallway. “This was great! All of you, just great.” He patted George’s back when he released him. “Dinner on me…well on the Bureau! I have the American Express!”
Beth managed to laugh because Deej could always lighten a moment. “That’ll be really nice,” she said and George took her hand.
Whether Chris spotted it or not she wasn’t sure, but he embraced Deej once again, pulled back and gave Beth a tiny smile…the first absolute contact they’d shared. “Thanks, but count me out. I have plans,” he said and took a step toward George and patted his shoulder. “George, I want to thank you and I wish you well.”
Beth could feel her heart in the pit of her gut. Chris Stoddard was surrendering.
She wanted to scream and hit and plead and beg. She wanted to say if he’d fought just a little they wouldn’t be here, preparing to drift apart. But she stood tall and still and watched him hug Roxanne before he disappeared onto the elevator.
Chapter 28
“Man, those were the days,” Deej said with a wheezy laugh as he reached for a toothpick.
“Honestly,” Roxanne waved her hand and threw her burgundy-colored napkin to the table. “Only you could find humor in a sting.”
“Never marry a civilian, George,” Deej said with a pat to George’s back as he pulled his hefty frame from his chair.
“I don’t plan to,” George said and kissed Beth’s hand.
She glanced down at her wedding band that she still wore. She’d taken it off to be Farley-Fauna, but slid it back on the second she’d arrived back in Connecticut. Why had she done that?
Deej pulled out Roxanne’s chair and she immediately linked her arm with his. She’d waited so long for this man whom she adored to commit. He adored her right back--it was common knowledge--but he’d held out for any host of reasons. He didn’t want to leave a widow early and young he often said, but when Roxanne explained he’d be leaving a widow regardless, Deej married her and Roxanne didn’t even seem to mind that she’d missed out on the babies she wanted as well as ten extra years of wedded bliss.
Deej had been worth it.
“Our flight is early tomorrow, so we probably won’t see you two.” Deej bent to kiss Beth’s cheek. “You did good, Bethie. Thank you for kicking my ass into believing Chris was alive.”
“My pleasure,” Beth said and touched his nose with hers.
“Happy Holidays, George. We’ll be in touch.”
“Goodbye,” George murmured but turned back to Beth without watching them go. He gave her hand another gentle kiss. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Beth gently pulled it away, folded her napkin and set it on the table. “George, I need to be completely honest with you.”
He dabbed his mouth and laid his napkin down as well. “That’s never good.”
She met his eyes, the cool smoothness of them. It was time to set him free even if it meant that she’d end up alone. “I don’t love you, George. I guess that’s not entirely true. I love you as a friend, but I’m not in love with you and I never will be. I’m so sorry.”
George glanced down and traced his china plate with his finger. “I’m willing to wait, Beth--”
Beth shook her head and she reached for his hand this time. “But I can’t ask you to do that because I’m quite
certain that my feelings aren’t changing. I was being selfish and unfair. I needed to know that you were there in order to be strong enough to leave. But I can’t use you; I care too much about you for that.”
His eyes reflected off the flicker of candlelight. “I’m in love with you. I have been since you walked into headquarters.”
“I know that you truly believe you love me, George, and I’m so flattered. But you need to move on. Twelve years is too long. You need to find a woman who will love you for who you are--”
“And not be thinking of someone else every time she looks at me?”
Beth reached for her wine. “Am I that obvious?”
George reached for his own. “Why did you leave if you still loved him?”
Beth gave a tiny shrug. “I was confused. Perhaps part of me hoped he’d stop me.”
“But he didn’t, Beth. Isn’t that telling enough?”
“I don’t know, George. I’m not naïve enough to believe that there may be a future for Chris and I because too much has changed and been said for that. But I can’t lead you on. I have to start being true to myself. I’m just sorry that I hurt you.”
George motioned for the waiter. “I can’t say that I’m completely surprised. I’ve always known you’d never love me the way you loved him. I just hoped.”
Beth touched his hand. “You’re a good man and thank you so much for all you’ve done for me.”
George threw the American Express Deej had left him on the cachet the waiter set down. “What’s next for you?”
Beth shrugged and sipped. “I honestly don’t know beyond the fact that I want to write the book I’d mentioned.”
“Will you be staying in Connecticut?”
“I’m not certain of that either. The children miss Chris. Maybe I’d be wise to bring them back closer to where he is. I’m waiting for that moment of complete awareness to hit.” She looked up and gave a sad smile in the flicker of candlelight. “It’s late arriving.”
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