MORE THAN THE MOON

by A Rosendale

  “Oh?” He crossed the room to sit on the couch opposite her. “Where to?”

  “There’s a research exhibition launching from Seattle two weeks from Monday. It’s a two-week cruise up to the Gulf of Alaska to study orcas for NOAA’s National Marine Fisheries Service. I join them every year.”

  ‘That’s perfect,’ Dirk thought to himself. Although he knew Johnson’s reach was extensive, he doubted the man could organize an assault on the opposite coast and miles out to sea.

  “So I’m looking at flights now.” Her eyes returned to the screen. “Hmm. There’s a cheaper flight next Tuesday.” The prospect of saving money brought a perplexing frown to her face.

  “School’s out on Friday, right?”

  “Yes,” she acknowledged. But…” She sent him a sad smile. “I’ll be gone almost a month. I kind of wanted to spend some time with you before I leave.” A sudden thought alighted and she opened her mouth to share, but quickly shut it.

  “What?” he pressed. It was unusual to see her second guess herself and the innocent attribute endeared her even more.

  She laughed at herself and shook her head. “I was about to suggest you come with me, but then I realized you probably don’t want to meet my folks. And you have work, of course.”

  “Actually, I happen to have some vacation days coming.” Vasquez had offered a brief reprieve following the conclusion of the difficulties with the congressman. “And I wouldn’t mind meeting them.” ‘Besides,’ he added silently, ‘then I can make sure you’re safely out to sea.’

  “Really?” she asked doubtfully. Her skepticism stemmed from experience. Men she’d been involved with, when faced with meeting parents located in the watery wilds of the far Northwest, had faltered and quickly faded from her life. It’d rarely been of any consequence to Alma; she’d learned early on that men who wanted to settle down and stick around, like her father, were few and far between. Not to mention she’d only known Dirk a few months.

  “Really,” he insisted. “Book two tickets and I’ll pay you back. Don’t worry about a return ticket. I’ll figure that out when we get there.”

  She raised a hesitant brow.

  Dirk smiled and leaned over to kiss her. “Really! It’ll be great!” He glanced at his watch and chugged the rest of the coffee. “I’ve got some work to get done. I’ll be back around six, if that’s okay?”

  Alma nodded. “Sure. Want to bring some of your top quality movie picks?”

  “You got it.” He paused at the door. “You’ll stay here?” He hoped his question was off-hand.

  She shrugged. “I should probably get some groceries at some point this weekend.”

  “Can we go tomorrow?”

  Again, she was taken aback by his response. “Yeah, sure.”

  Dirk kissed her again and left. In an effort to save time, he took a cab home, climbed the stairs to his apartment two at a time, and sat down to continue the extensive report.

  Chapter 12

  The figure that sat by the café window was unremarkable. Dressed in a suit and long, black cotton trench coat, he looked like any other businessman who frequented the Starbucks. The baristas wouldn’t have paid him any heed other than when they went to sweep by his table after the morning rush. He smiled pleasantly at them and returned to the paper he’d been perusing for an hour. After another hour, he extracted a pen from an interior pocket and turned to the daily crossword. It wasn’t until media vans started appearing across the street that the Starbucks employees noticed the man was gone.

  Dirk had observed an array of suited agents entering the Government Center across the plaza. It was another hour before the media began to arrive. With a growing crowd to blend with, he turned up the collar of his coat against a brutal spring wind and exited the coffee shop.

  “What’s going on?” he asked one cameraman and reporter.

  “Someone said there’s a bomb threat!” the female reporter answered.

  “Or maybe an armed shooter!” the cameraman added.

  Dirk refrained from rolling his eyes at the extravagant suppositions and moved through the crowd to a newspaper reporter. “What’s the word?” he asked curiously.

  “Rumor has it that a congressman is involved in ISIS terrorism,” the man muttered distractedly.

  ‘Well, that’s closer,’ Dirk thought as he melted back into the mass of bodies milling in the plaza.

  It was another thirty minutes in the biting wind before the doors of the Government Center opened. It was only with professional courtesy that he refrained from allowing himself a wide smile at the sight. Congressman Johnson was being marched between two suited men, presumably FBI Agents, his hands cuffed behind him and an enraged expression on his face.

  “Statement! Statement!” the media shouted, but the agents and politician who marched across the plaza to an unmarked black SUV ignored them. The crowd followed and Dirk was swept along with them.

  Before ducking into the vehicle, Johnson stopped and turned around. It was if he knew Dirk was there and it was his hand that had brought about his sudden change of fate. Finally, their eyes locked and Johnson sent him a murderous glare. Dirk returned the gesture defiantly. Then the agents pushed him into the vehicle and they were gone.

  * * *

  “You seem relaxed tonight,” Alma noted when they met for dinner.

  After seeing Johnson safely into the law’s hands, Dirk had met with Vasquez, then moved across town to meet her. While compensating his unusual contingent of informers, he’d asked them to turn their attention on Alma. With his mind more at ease about her safety and Johnson’s indefinite incarceration, he allowed himself a celebratory martini at the restaurant.

  “I concluded a very extensive project today at work,” he explained.

  “Congratulations!” She clinked her wine glass against his.

  * * *

  A shrill buzzing interrupted Dirk’s slumber. He regretfully disentangled himself from Alma to answer.

  “I have an assignment,” the disembodied voice answered.

  As much as he wanted to turn it down, he knew he couldn’t. “Yes?”

  His irritation must have penetrated the cell. “I know you just wrapped up a big assignment and have…delicate matters to attend to…”

  Dirk cast a glance at the woman sleeping soundly at his side.

  “…But I need you. We’ve got no one else available. It’s only 24 hours.”

  He knew the man didn’t have to make these excuses. It spoke to the respect Dirk had amassed in the course of his career.

  “I understand.” He memorized the following information and hung up. Sighing regretfully, he brushed a wisp of soft hair from Alma’s cheek and kissed her gently. “I just got a call from work,” he whispered. “I have to go.”

  “Okay,” she mumbled sleepily and kissed him. He’d mentioned that this might happen, so she wasn’t concerned and snuggled back under the covers.

  His apartment seemed so much colder once he was absent from the bed and its enticing occupant. He dressed in cargo pants, black T-shirt, and light jacket, gathered his loaded duffel and slipped into the dark Boston night.

  * * *

  ‘24 hours, my ass,’ Dirk thought in irritation. His assignment had him on the move constantly for 36 hours. He returned to Boston Friday evening, exhausted, a little pissed, and concerned about Alma. She wasn’t answering his texts and he had no way of contacting his informers outside of face-to-face conferences. Instead of going straight home from the airport, he drove to BU. He entered the lecture building and navigated to Dr. Decker’s office. Every office he passed was dark and empty, so it wasn’t surprising that hers was, too.

  “Can I help you?” a janitor asked.

  “I’m looking for Dr. Decker.”

  “I’d assume she’s out with the rest of the department. They celebrate at the Citizen every year. Something of a tradition, I suppose.”

  “Thank you!” Dirk marched quickly back to the Jeep and drove a few city bloc
ks to the Citizen Public House. He alighted from the vehicle and hurried inside. Although he recognized a few of the professors, Alma was not among them.

  “Hey! It’s Decker’s beau!” one of the women, Dr. Tutterow, remarked.

  “Hey!” chorused her snockered companions.

  “Is Alma here?” he asked.

  Tutterow shook her head. “She went home about an hour ago. Said something about preparing for her Washington trip.”

  “Thanks.” He sent another text as he climbed back in the Jeep. After several blocks, the iPhone buzzed with a response.

  At home. Do you want to come over?

  Stopped at a red light, he heaved a sigh of relief.

  On my way.

  He parallel parked down the street and walked a few blocks to her apartment building, relief providing a cushion of content that floated around him. He was reaching for the intercom when something bowled into him, slamming him face first against the building. The impact drove all the air from his lungs. He felt a sharp prick in his side.

  “This woman is proving to be deadly for you, Travers,” a familiar voice whispered. The words were so close to his ear, he could feel the hot air of the speaker.

  “She may be deadly, but I hear she packs quite a kick to the groin,” Dirk muttered. A blow to the kidneys would have brought him to his knees had he not been up against the wall.

  A car turned the street corner and the assailant released his target to avoid suspicion, but the knifepoint remained dangerously close to Dirk’s skin.

  “Walk,” he ordered and nudged Dirk down the sidewalk.

  “I thought you would have changed employers following Johnson’s arrest. You have a directive?” Dirk asked as they trudged toward a dark alleyway.

  “What do you think?”

  A thick hand shoved him into the alley and he stumbled a few steps. There was a dumpster midway down the passage and piles of discarded cardboard and wooden pallets. Dirk turned around near the dumpster to face Johnson’s deadly assassin, his hands outstretched innocently.

  “How’s this going to work?” he asked.

  “You know how it works, Travers. You’ve done hits before.”

  Surprised the man had determined his real job, he took a step back. “Have you shared your information with the congressman?”

  “Not before he was arrested,” he admitted grudgingly.

  ‘Good,’ Dirk thought, stepping back again so he was near the far end of the dumpster.

  “You’re going for a ‘mugging-gone-bad’ approach, huh?” He pointed to the vicious knife.

  The man shrugged from a few steps away.

  Dirk shifted his eyes and found precisely what he’d hoped for. Steeling himself, he shot a pointed glance over the man’s shoulder, as if someone were behind him.

  Unsettled, the assailant turned his head, allowing Dirk to lunge for the broken wood slat propped against the dumpster. By the time the man called his bluff, his victim was armed like a batter at Fenway Park. Cursing, he stepped forward, brandishing the wicked blade.

  * * *

  “It’s me.”

  Dirk’s voice was muffled through the intercom, but still managed to make Alma’s heart flutter. She buzzed him in and waited for a knock on the door. True to her promise, she’d been keeping the apartment locked tight.

  “Hey,” she greeted, as she opened the door.

  Dirk stepped inside, his hair glistening with damp and a strong, clean scent wafted in with him.

  “Sorry for the delay. I stopped off at home for a shower.” He kissed her cheek in greeting and handed over a bottle of red wine. “To celebrate the start of summer.”

  “Thank you!” She wasted no time pouring two glasses.

  “How was your business trip?” Alma asked when they were seated on the couch with their wine.

  “Fine,” he answered even as the scratch across his ribs twinged.

  They talked for thirty minutes before Alma rose to refill their glasses. When she returned, Dirk was asleep, his legs stretched out on the couch, arms crossed over his stomach, and his head propped on the armrest. She smiled gently, drew a blanket over him, turned out the lights, and retreated to the bedroom with her wine and a book.

  Chapter 13

  “I need to stop in at NOAA to check in before we head north,” Alma informed Dirk. She was behind the wheel of a rented sedan that had him sitting with his knees drawn up nearly to his chin.

  “I’ll go get us some coffee,” he offered when they pulled into the parking lot and his legs were starting to cramp.

  The Pacific Northwest was humid, but in a far different way than New England. Dirk found he not only enjoyed the air, but the constant view of dark blue water, rocky coasts, and towering evergreens filled him with a comfortable security. The walk stretched his legs and rejuvenated him after the long flight west. Travelling with others could prove stressful in his experience, but navigating the airports and rental company with Alma had felt perfectly natural. She was clearly used to travelling alone, perhaps not so often as Dirk, though.

  “Everything settled?” he asked upon her return to the car. He was leaning against the blue sedan, sipping his first authentic cup of local Starbucks.

  She nodded, accepted the paper cup he extended, and got in the car. She’d already apologized to Dirk for the cramped accommodations, but he’d shrugged it off good-naturedly.

  “This is beautiful!” he remarked when they were out of the city, driving north on Interstate 5.

  “I think so.”

  “Would you move back here if you could?”

  Alma nodded. “In a heart beat.”

  “I can’t say I blame you,” he admitted, smitten with the rocky beauty of the landscape.

  Smiling, she took his hand across the console. The action brought a wide grin to Dirk’s lips and made the incommodious vehicle far more comfortable.

  “We’ll be too late for the ferry, so I got a hotel for tonight.”

  “Sounds great. Shall we get a late dinner on the way?”

  “I’ve already picked out a restaurant.”

  He grinned at her forethought.

  * * *

  After a delicious dinner of Pacific salmon and strawberry salad, Alma directed them to a hotel right on Ship Harbor. She checked in and helped Dirk haul their baggage upstairs. She’d packed for a month long excursion where he’d brought only a simple duffel bag.

  “Airplanes always make me feel dirty. I’m going to take a shower.”

  “Not without me you’re not,” Dirk growled, crossing the room to pull her into a hot, amorous kiss. She moaned in response and any thought of exhausting daylong travel faded. Even the rough five o’clock shadow on his cheeks didn’t deter her eager response.

  * * *

  “I haven’t been on vacation in a long time,” Dirk muttered from the next pillow. Their bare legs were entwined under the covers.

  “I could tell,” Alma teased. She was exhausted and absolutely sated by their passion.

  “Hmm,” he hummed and pulled her closer. “You make me so happy,” he said quietly.

  Although the statement wasn’t surprising, Alma’s rush of emotion in response to it was. She snuggled against his chest and smiled.

  * * *

  “Wow!” Dirk extracted his arm from around Alma and moved to the bow of the ferry. She was amused and attracted by his wonder at the porpoises that rode the boat’s bowsprit. She moved alongside him.

  “These are harbor porpoises. They were thought extinct for a while in the late 1900s, but they’ve made a comeback.”

  Dirk stared over the railing, transfixed by the dark, graceful creatures.

  The barking of sea lions echoed across the calm water as the ferry rounded the island to come into Friday Harbor. Alma waving to shore distracted Dirk’s attention from the massive mammals. A weathered man waved back. It was hard to tell how old he was due to the deep lines and sun-damaged skin, but it was apparent from the warm smile and gray eyes that th
is was Alma’s father.

  The man scrambled aboard the small ferry to squeeze his daughter in a strong embrace. Despite his age, Dirk detected strong muscles under the islander’s wool sweater.

  “It is so good to see you!” The man’s voice was equally as weathered as his skin and came out in a low gravelly tone.

  “You, too, Dad!”

  “William, I have told you a hundred times-” the ferry’s captain started as he came from the wheelhouse.

  “-you can’t jump on board without a ticket,” William Decker finished sardonically. “Yeah, yeah. When will I get that through my thick skull?” He rolled his eyes in a very Alma-like gesture and motioned his daughter to the dock. Dirk followed, his duffel flung over his shoulder.

  “Have a good day, Sal!” William called as the ferry backed away.

  Captain Sal waved lazily.

  “Dad, this is Dirk Travers.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Dr. Decker,” Dirk greeted. The handshake they exchanged was equally powerful and an appreciative, manly expression followed, as if they’d had a complete conversation without Alma’s knowledge.

  “Welcome to the Sound, Mr. Travers.”

  “Dirk, please. Thank you for having me. It’s beautiful!” He gestured around the busy port where boats were warming up to set off into the Sound.

  William nodded proudly. “We’re quite fond of it.” He slung an arm around his daughter’s shoulders, hefted her suitcase in the other hand, and led the way toward shore.

  “Your mother is home slaving away at her homemade chowder.”

  “Yum!” Alma exclaimed.

  They walked south of the port and away from the coast. After they were onshore, Dirk was able to walk abreast of the Decker’s.

  “Alma tells us you’re a computer tech.”

  Dirk nodded affirmation. “I consult for the Navy.”

  “Hmm. Think you could help me figure out this Google nonsense?”

  Technology, especially in terms of ‘clouds’, had exploded since William’s retirement fifteen years ago. In an effort to stay up to date with his former colleagues, he strove to keep up with the technology.