by R. T. Wolfe
She answered without hesitating. "I'll simply repeat myself, Mr. Reed. How did you gather this much detail from a quick glance such a distance away? How far is it? Twenty-five yards, thirty-five?"
Andy winced as he stood between his fuming brother and his equally fuming fiancée. He watched as Duncan looked at the officer, then closed his eyes as he turned back to face Dave. "Is there anything else I can do for you? If not, I'll be catching the evening plane to L.A."
"Yes, Duncan. We'll need about an hour for questioning." Dave turned to Rose and Andy. "From all of you. We might be able to spark some additional details from your memories."
Duncan looked toward the case board and rubbed the back of his neck.
"You can use the break room to phone the airline," Dave said as he scribbled notes in a small spiral pad. Dave stepped closer to Rose. "I'd like to tell you that I'm making you still take your trip, but I know better."
"Damn right I'm still taking my trip. Bastard. He's not running my life." Andy noted the slight softening in expression. "What about Mom?" she asked.
"I'll keep her close."
Dave rotated to Andy. "I know I can't tell you to keep your whereabouts from your family, but I will ask that you tell them to keep it confidential and don't tell anyone else. No one."
"We'll check in." He nodded as he repeated Dave's words. "I'll keep her close."
* * *
Andy nearly had to threaten Rose in order to get her to promise to stay at the action center until his return. She'd calmed down slightly since learning that her father was possibly following her.
He sat with a glass of iced tea in a corner of the internet café, waiting for his brother. He and Duncan always had an interest in hacking, an interest and exceptional talent. Duncan's memory combined with Andy's perspective on building codes and taking them down meant seamless entry into secured databases, internet sites and governmental agencies.
They set rules, of course. They never stole or cheated. That was for the weak and the lazy. They simply surfed for information of use to them or used their talents to adjust options, as they liked to call it. They would get information about trouble clients or options regarding appointments. He thought about how, back in the day, both ironically had been fixing their college class schedules from different parts of the country.
Running lines through several public ports, Andy was able to hack into the Systems Department in the Nicaraguan capital city. In theory, they were in Aruba. Much like the dummy desktop they'd used to anonymously log into the cafés, he waited for anyone in Systems to log in to their computer... hopefully, someone with decent security access.
He would then break down the binary code back into the series of keystrokes that made up the ID and password into the data system. And cha ching.
Duncan came in wearing a ball cap. He pulled up a chair next to him in the back corner, facing away from the café's only security camera. Low budget.
"That one's already popped up. ID is pnmartinez. Password is PNbemine 2. I was waiting for someone with better clearance," Duncan said.
"How do you remember that shit?" Andy shook his head. "Let's try her out. We're not looking for dish on a high profile."
Sure enough, there it was. Reports of a series of robberies tied to assault in and around the city of Managua. Then, there was nothing. In clicking further, they saw the face... and the name.
* * *
"May I come in?" Andy knocked hard enough to open the cracked door of Dave's office.
Dave rolled his eyes annoyingly as Officer Savage walked directly to the case board and pulled across a blank sheet.
"I have some information regarding Rose's father, biological father." He handed a folder to Dave.
As Dave opened it, Andy recited, "Miguel Ramirez. Born in Managua, Nicaragua, to a Beatrice Ramirez. Apparently, his father, listed as unknown, was white. Miguel is wanted in Nicaragua for robbery and assault. Last sighting was twenty years ago."
Dave's brow deepened heavily.
Officer Savage interjected as she looked over his shoulder. "How did you get these?"
How could he explain that he hacked into a foreign state database? "They were anonymously given to me."
"That's bullshit," she blurted out, then repeated, "How did you get these?"
Dave held a hand out to her, signaling it was time for her to stand down. Andy appreciated it. "It would be helpful to know the source, son."
Andy sighed. No way around it. "I can't tell you that, sir. I'm sorry. There's a picture of him on the back page. He was younger, of course, but it's him." He sat on the edge of Dave's desk. "What now?"
Dave rubbed his fingers across his five o'clock shadow. "Now, you take my daughter far away from here. Keep your phone on you. I'll call if I find out anything." Dave looked to him. "Anything, rest assured. Call when you get there and if you change locations." Dave took out a business card, set the file down and wrote on the back. "This is my personal cell. Don't call reception."
Andy nodded and stood.
Dave held out his hand. "And, Andy... thanks."
* * *
"I've spent weeks at your action center," Andy said. "Now, I want you to see my life."
Rose closed her eyes as he closed his hand around hers as he drove. He lifted their joined fingers and kissed the back of her soft skin.
"Buildings aren't just for the rich or the careless," he went on. "They can be formed to be practical, efficient. They can be pieces of art or a combination of both. Certain cultures or religions enjoy specific characteristics that solidify the distinctness between their buildings, creating unity and community."
Rose had always carried an interest in his passions, even though they weren't hers. However, he couldn't seem to keep her from worrying about taking her first leave in eight years or about leaving her mother. Amanda had dealt with this Michael for years. That was rough.
"Roman Catholics traditionally incorporated pointed arches, ribbed vaults and Gothic flying buttresses." He drove while using hand gestures to describe details. "Expertly, the characteristics lent themselves to appeal to emotions. Methodists took a more conservative approach with common Greek Revival architecture, using lancet-arched windows that flanked the entrances."
Rose worked not to let the images, or the blood rushing through her veins, spoil her time away with Andy. Pieces of tension softened as she realized she could never once remember Andy giving himself to her so openly about his work before.
"Synagogues generally contain an ark, called an aron ha-kodesh where Torah scrolls are kept." He lifted his eyebrows up and down dramatically.
She had never thought of it before, but now, she did think about the similarities between churches.
"Some architects, on the other hand, focus their work on whoever is to be the owner. The customer. Personalizing a building to the buyer. That's what I work to do. I love creating... where there wasn't before. Catering to the individuality of the buyer's tastes and practical needs." He looked to her. "Are you comfortable?"
"Quite." And, she was nearly completely cured of any vacation guilt. She smiled, looking down at their hands.
"What is it, then?"
"Nothing, really. I had no idea so much went into design and really had no idea how thoroughly you've learned about it. I guess I could say, however, that Nathan has a plane."
He glanced over as he drove and smiled his thousand-watt smile that forever made her knees weak. "It's not that far now, and I've already used the plane once this year... to get to a protest."
A picture of a knight in shining armor flashed through her mind. Laughing, she responded, "Thanks for that. How are the lots selling?"
"About half sold. It's incredible, really. Since then, I've started to look into other ways to interest the tree hug... to interest the green population."
She turned to face him now, resting the side of her head on the seat.
"I've found organizations that take donations for the purchase and planting of t
rees in third world countries. Fruit trees, trees that produce syrup and rubber trees. I'm beginning to have customers search me out because they know I'll donate a dozen trees for each one torn down from an excavation."
Her heart softened as she watched him gesture wildly with his free hand as he explained. He'd always been so smooth.
"Everyone wins. I get the business. The tree huggers... sorry... get a clear conscience with their new house. Poor folks get a way to support themselves, not just a perishable hand out."
The term tree hugger didn't bother her, but his need to apologize did. "How will we make this work, you and I?"
"As we were meant to. What kind of question is that?"
"Don't pretend like you don't see the vast differences between us."
"Not a problem. We've already begun to piece that together. Were you listening?"
"Of course, I was listening. About the tree huggers," she said flatly and had almost completely forgotten about her worries by this time, about anything but him.
"And about this..." He turned up a drive that was quite literally out in the middle of nowhere. The building at the end was expansive; a waterfall in the forefront flowed beneath the place and away. Visually uncomfortable concrete slabs jetted out from different angles in aesthetic form. Thick wooden beams and natural stone lined the walls and framed the different areas of the... Home? she wondered.
They parked with the other visiting cars. Andy stretched after he opened her door and held out a hand for her. "Come. Let me share a land developer and builder's work that holds a touch of Rose."
They strolled through the home like the tourists they were. She'd never seen anything like it. An actual home filled with serene character, surrounded by an earthy theme. She felt intensely touched he would bring her all the way out here. To a building that was formed around nature, with nature.
"It's called organic architecture. Drama, disagreements and all-out fights went into building this girl."
She was in awe of the structure, the flow and the character. The rooms were immense with shiny stone floors and built-in planter boxes scattered about. Walls of ceiling-to-floor windows overlooked massive cantilevers and one waterfall that seemed to lead into another. All were nestled tightly among a forest of towering trees that were, indeed, in the middle of no where. No city, no interstate. Mostly, she melted into a puddle at the sight of Andy showing off like a proud dad.
"There've been problems with this building." He stepped in front of her. "Water leakage, rotting boards."
She recognized his purposeful metaphorical comparison to their relationship and smiled warmly at him.
Facing her on the front balcony with the sound of the water rushing beneath them, he knelt to one knee. "And the girl still stands. Through the fighting. Through the changes. Because the foundation is solid, unwavering." He pulled a ring from the pocket of his jeans and held it out to her. "Because the ones who love it worked to keep it strong, keep it new." He took her hands in his. "Be mine, Rosemarie. Forever. I don't care if you want to keep your name. I love you. Marry me."
She pulled him from the stone floor, flooded with love and covered in peace. "I've been in love with you since I was old enough to be in love." She held out her left hand. "Of course I'll marry you." The diamond was oval with two smaller on either side. A thin line of white gold twined around the two smaller, joining them to the solitaire. She looked into his caramel eyes. "I don't want to keep my name."
She watched as his eyelids closed hard. He sighed deeply and kissed the wrist of her ringed hand, her palm and around to the ring on her third finger. When he opened, he gently pulled her toward him, pressing their lips together in smooth, drawn out velvet.
* * *
"Are you leaving for real this time?" Brie gave Duncan a smile that he recognized didn't reach her eyes.
He sighed and walked to her, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the top of her head. "I'll be back. I've got the house to check on now."
Her smile was slight but this time sincere. "I know of a pair of excellent landscape artists when you're ready."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
The smile remained but her brows dropped slightly. "I can't believe I never knew, never even suspected."
Duncan followed her subject change. "She made sure of it."
"I'm her best friend, her coworker. And I should have known Amanda would never turn to drugs unless something heavy was going on. How sad and lonely for her. I haven't seen her shine like she is with Dave since, since... well Dave."
"It was Ramirez I saw. I don't know what he wanted, but Rose will be safe with Andy while Dave heats up the investigation." Purposely, he sat and rested his arm lazily on the back of his chair as a way to show his aunt he was in no hurry.
Following his lead, Brie sat next to him and rested her chin in her hands. "You say you really saw him?" She shivered.
"Mmm." He nodded. "Dave's assistant is suspicious of me."
Brie let her hands drop. "What? Why?"
"She thinks I'm involved... that I shouldn't have been able to sketch him in such detail."
She leaned back, contemplating something. It was several seconds before she spoke. "Why don't you just tell her?"
He was sure his eyes didn't reveal his surprise. Surely, his pause was twice as long as Brie's had been. He shook his head ever so slightly to her before he changed the subject and added, "It's better that Andy took the information we... umm... gathered to the station on his own."
Of course Brie would follow his lead. She was that kind of person. She covered her ears and said, "See nothing, hear nothing."
Chapter 26
Andy opened the door for Rose to the expansive hotel room. "I wanted the penthouse suite but thought you might spend the night thinking of how you could have used the money at the action center."
A white couch and chairs were arranged in a sitting area on one side, a tall table with leather barstools on the other. A walk-out balcony led to padded lounging chairs. A tray of fresh fruit was arranged and visible through the small refrigerator's clear door. Champagne set on ice near an enormous, round bed covered with a dozen ringlet pillows.
"This is the best you could do?" She ran like a child and jumped on the bed, spreading her arms and legs like she was making a snow angel.
He closed the door, set down their baggage and watched her—the woman who helped the helpless, with love for family, the real woman, the sexy woman with the understanding of every part of him, and with a great spinning side kick. His woman. "I'll call for room service. Requests?"
"Mmm." She shook her head. "You choose. I'm taking a shower." She took out her shower bag and pranced to the bathroom. He heard a loud squeal.
Andy grinned as he put their suitcases in the closet.
Rose stood for a minute in awe. "Holy cow! This is bigger than my entire apartment!" she yelled loud enough for him to hear.
A glass-enclosed stall held several shower heads at all different levels. Next to it was a Jacuzzi big enough for six people. There were fresh flowers in vases scattered around the room and bottles of water chilling in ice buckets. Everything smelled of floral potpourri. She decided on the shower, turning the water to somewhere near piping.
Tossing her clothes on the floor, she stood naked, reading the controls on the wall for the heated floor and towel bars. With her hand over her mouth, she stifled a laugh and stepped onto the polished tile. The blazing water beat in pulses over every inch of her. Any and all aches kneaded and melted from her body along with most of the tension from her week.
She lifted her arms and placed the palms of her hands on the tile in front of her. The noise of the rushing water encompassed her as it ran over her head and down her back. Inside, she tried to sort out the vast array of emotions sifting between her heart and her head.
Her mother had kept the truth of the murder of her great-grandfather a secret for nearly two decades. Kept her conception a secret for almost three.
Rose couldn't keep back the anger and resentment, but it was clouded with wrenching pain for what her mother had endured.
Rose had spent eight years getting over the loss of the only man she'd every truly loved—no. She wasn't going there. Spilled milk. He was hers now. And, she had to admit, the timing was right. Natural. They were both ready, ready and in love. She tilted her head back, letting the water run over her face and down the front of her body. Opening her eyes, she could see her ring through the rush of water, then she heard the door open. Through the heat of the water, an electric chill erupted from the tips of her toes and the top of her head, driving every sensation to her center.
He stepped in behind her. He felt cool against her back, and she could feel he was just as aroused. Twining his hands around her slippery waist, he pulled her against him and sighed noisily in her ear.
She didn't back away from the blast of water and instead let it run over them as he kissed the back of her neck, his glorious hands moving along her wet skin.
"I love you." Her voice was as silky as her skin and it took him under. They fit. She was soft and warm and his.
Taking her firmly in his hands, he squeezed as he pulled her closer. Possessively and lazily, he circled. Her body arched deeply into his hands, the back of her head pressed against his neck. He ran his lips across and down her wet shoulder.
Leaving one hand on her, the other trailed possessively down her silky stomach. He stopped at her lower belly and pulled her tighter. Her wet back molested him. She shuddered beneath his lips and hands. As she rocked back into him, he struggled with keeping a slow pace and continued until he reached her. The crest was instant. Her arms flew up, one bracing against the tile and the other grabbing his hand as he held her.
She cried out, loud and throaty. As her limbs started to give, he held her firmly, but didn't stop. Gently at first, he led her up again. Her body became limp and her arms rose slowly, wrapping around his neck. Inviting. Surrendering. Making it impossible for him to keep focus. He was completely lost and completely in love.
As she reached the next peak, her head flew back into his shoulder, and she shuddered and shook. Feeling like he was holding up a wet noodle, he let her come down, then reached for the soap. Sloppily, she took the bar from his hands, set it down and traded places behind him. Taking his arms, she placed his hands on the tile where hers had been. She looked at the ring on her finger as she spread the soft bubbles up his back, down his arms and around to his chest.