MORE THAN THE MOON

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MORE THAN THE MOON Page 14

by A Rosendale


  Alma couldn’t remember his parting words in wake of that kiss. He’d disappeared through security and she drove his Jeep back to the apartment before heading home to write.

  She sighed now at the memory, a gentle grin playing over her lips. Suddenly decided, she got up, dressed and hailed a taxi. Dirk had left her a key to his apartment and Jeep, “for access to your kayak,” he’d said. She utilized the keys now, hauled the dark red vessel down to the garage to load on the Jeep’s rack. She paused only to don the Boston Red Sox cap he’d given her. Soon, she was at the waterside in Cambridge at the same launching site Dirk had taken her last weekend.

  Paddling hard for the first half mile felt good and released all the tension of the week from meetings and writing. She let the kayak drift for a minute of rest. She’d never viewed Boston from the water. It was a unique perspective, one that Dirk had explained from an historic point of view. She’d never forget, although she’d surely learned it at some point in school, that Bunker Hill had been viewed as a British victory, even though they’d lost significantly more soldiers than the Americans. Since Dirk had uttered the historical fact last weekend in his low voice, she’d committed it to everlasting memory.

  ‘It’s weird how a different voice, one you’re invested in, can change your whole outlook,’ she thought, skimming along the Charles River shoreline.

  Regaining her breath, she dipped the paddle again, plunging ahead energetically. As her heart thundered, scenes of the past week at work played through her mind’s eye. She’d hit a temporary roadblock with her article, but it was overcome with a good night’s sleep and a little coffee. She finally submitted her work to a journal. The editor happened to be a former professor and she was confident criticism would be forthcoming. On Friday, after their departmental meeting, her colleagues had met at the Citizen Public House. Dr. Miles bought everyone the first round, then chose an open seat at Alma’s side. She hadn’t thought anything of it until someone asked about her ‘boyfriend’.

  “He’s out of town on business,” she’d answered nonchalantly. Instantly, Miles had offered another drink to her. She declined and nursed the same beer all evening.

  * * *

  Dirk took a deep, refreshing breath of cool sea air.

  His perch on the Cliffs of Dun Aengus was breathtaking. The island was just off the east coast of Ireland amidst the tumultuous waters of the North Atlantic, which crashed 300 feet below. The salty breeze was cool and refreshing. Handfuls of tourists lined the scenery.

  ‘Alma would love this.’

  The thought came to him as if on the breeze and caught him by surprise. He made it a practice to avoid thinking of personal affairs while on assignment. The thought was followed by one of derision.

  He glanced at a group 200 feet away gazing down at the crashing waves. Any one of the members of that group was more than capable of creating a worldwide catastrophe. It wouldn’t be fair to submit Alma to the dangers of these men. Although they looked like a leisurely tourist group, their dark agenda suggested otherwise. He frowned. Perhaps he had more personal decisions on his mind than he’d thought. They must be considered and sorted over these few months on assignment.

  Dirk loved his job. Due to his inconspicuous appearance, he was able to assume any personage imaginable. The only identifying feature, his emerald eyes, was hardly identifiable at a distance.

  With a subtle ‘harrumph’ of discontent, he leaned back on his outstretched arms, pretending to stare out at the horizon. The Apple buds buried in his ears were deceiving. Most observers would assume he was listening idly to music pumped from an iPod buried in his back pocket. But the long distance audio receiver perched unobtrusively on a ring on his finger picked up conversation 200-400 feet away. He aimed it specifically, in this occasion, at the group of men observing nearby. It was still amazing they’d travelled across the continents and seas to vacation here, in one of the most desolate, coldest destinations available to discuss anarchy in one of the hottest, most over-populated countries in the world.

  * * *

  Two months later, it became more difficult to diffuse the topic.

  “Where’s that guy?” Steven demanded. The marine professors were out on yet another ‘professional development’ meeting, as they called their occasional forays. “And don’t say he’d still out of town.”

  Alma opened her mouth to reply, but Amie cut her off. “I’m starting to think Dirk was a figment of our imagination.”

  “He’s still away for his job,” Alma insisted. Even she was tiring of the response and her friends’ sympathetic frowns.

  “Who are you going to take next weekend, then?” Cassie asked.

  “Take? Why do I have to ‘take’ anyone?”

  Cassie and Amie exchanged an obvious glance.

  “You’re going to a huge event,” Amie declared.

  Alma looked to her two male companions to make sure they shared her bemusement.

  “You need an escort!” Cassie added.

  Alma outright laughed. “An escort? Seriously? I’ve been single most of my adult life and managed just fine. Since when do I need an escort?”

  The women shook heads at each other as if in disbelief at their friend’s ignorance.

  “You are going to the Smithsonian,” Amie said simply.

  “I’m aware,” Alma replied. She felt like a small child having algebra explained for the first time.

  “Do you know how many eligible bachelors will be attending?”

  “And weirdo politicians?” Cassie said.

  “I think I’m well-versed in weirdo politicians at this point,” Alma pointed out. She’d spent a week recently at the House of Representatives lecturing on environmental factors of oil tankers in Puget Sound. Congressman Flescher had been her accommodating host, but she was ready to be rid of politicians for the foreseeable future.

  “But…” Cassie and Amie exchanged that same look. Alma bristled at the obnoxious behavior. “You should have someone with you, at least to deflect them.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “It’s not a bad idea,” Mike admitted. “You will be away from home. It would be good to have someone with you.”

  “Seriously?” Alma exclaimed. “It’s Washington D.C. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  “What about that Mark guy from Woods Hole?” Amie remarked.

  “He seemed nice,” Cassie added.

  “I am not taking Mark to D.C.!”

  “We just want you to be safe,” Steven asserted. “This is a big deal! You’re speaking at the Smithsonian! That’s incredible! It would be awful if you were caught unawares.”

  Alma rolled her eyes again, but her friends’ had all adopted the same stubborn frown. She sighed in exasperation. “Fine. I’ll call Mark. I want it on the record that this is a ridiculous precaution.”

  Chapter 21

  The taxi dispelled its tanned occupant at the curb of an older brick building and pulled away abruptly, a wealthy tip in hand. The man crossed the sidewalk, entered the building and climbed the stairs. He unlocked the door to his apartment, which was as cold and dark as he liked it, and entered. He flipped the light switch, illuminating a fold of paper on the sofa. Curious, Dirk picked up the poster, at the same time dropping his bag on the floor.

  Smithsonian Institute introduces

  Gentle Predators of the Sound

  Keynote speaker Dr. Alma Decker, Boston University

  Dirk was impressed by the information and went on to read the date and time, but it didn’t change the ultimatum he’d assumed while away. Then he noticed the note at the bottom.

  You should go see her… Christian

  He frowned and picked up his phone.

  “Welcome home,” Christian greeted before Dirk could say anything.

  “Thanks. Why did you leave this?”

  “I thought you’d like to go see her.”

  “You know this can’t continue.” He’d made a decision while away. His course of action was clear aft
er weeks of deliberation.

  “Why?” Christian demanded. “There’s no rule against it.”

  “Because every moment I’m with her puts her in danger,” Dirk explained. Despite his affection for Alma, their relationship could not continue for her safety.

  “Have you discussed that with her?”

  “You know I can’t.”

  There was a long silence.

  “I’m just saying that maybe Alma’s worth the risk. And,” Christian continued before his pal would interject, “she might be tough enough to be okay with it.”

  “But-”

  “Maybe,” Christian pressed. “Dirk, she’s a good lady. I would…”

  “You would what?” Dirk insisted.

  “I would hate to see you lose her because you don’t think she’s strong enough.”

  “Christian, she could-”

  “I know! Trust me, I know! But you can’t deny that she’s good for you.”

  Dirk frowned and furrowed his brow, but didn’t respond.

  “I’ve seen it. You’re a great agent, but since she’s been on board, you’ve sharpened. You’re focused in a way I’ve not seen before. You can’t deny it.”

  “But her, Christian! I put her in incredible jeopardy. What if something happens to her? How could I-”

  “You’ve said it yourself, Dirk. She’s resourceful. She’s brilliant. She’s survived this long without you.”

  “Yeah! Without world-renowned assassins on her tail. Imagine the odds!” he countered sarcastically.

  “Just go see her,” Christian ordered, oddly calm. “It’s not like you need to decide this instant.” With that, he hung up.

  Dirk glared at the phone. The simple decision he’d settled on overseas had dissolved in a matter of minutes. There was no way he’d make it to D.C. by the time Alma spoke. But he might make it to the gala following.

  * * *

  “Your speech was impeccable, Dr. Decker,” Congressman Flesher intoned.

  Alma provided a pleasant smile in return, but moved away from the group of politicians abruptly. A ring of scientists ambushed her. Surrounded by a more admirable group of admirers, she indulged in a long discussion of marine wildlife.

  Mark waved to her as a means of respite and she eagerly took the cue to excuse herself.

  “Thank you,” she breathed, sipping champagne from the proffered flute. “Gosh, this is exhausting!”

  “Well, yeah! You’re a freaking celebrity!” he replied, clinking his glass against hers.

  “But I just gave a lecture, same as I would do in my classroom at BU.”

  Mark shrugged. “You’ve never lectured these numb heads about orcas, though. Your stories were captivating! Ninety-nine percent of these blokes will never even see an orca in real life, but your stories, especially the one about them breaching on the Sound while you watched from a kayak, were unbelievable!”

  “Thanks,” Alma muttered modestly.

  “Dr. Decker!” Ahmed Mazadi waved animatedly. Alma couldn’t deny him an audience since he’d been the curator to invite her and set up her astonishing accommodations at the Canopy.

  She refrained from a heavy sigh of exhaustion, replaced her empty flute in Mark’s hand and walked away, straightening her shoulders as she went.

  * * *

  Dirk was somewhat startled to recognize a tall, lanky man across the museum. He did a double take to confirm the identity, then crossed the crowded, tuxedoed congregation.

  Mark performed the same delayed reaction. “Dirk?” The suited man before him was tan and sported a goatee he didn’t remember.

  He nodded and broke into a wide, easily recognizable smile.

  “Wow! I didn’t expect to see you here.” He shot a glance at Alma, whose back was turned to them. “This isn’t what it looks like,” he assured the man quickly.

  A trick of the trade, Dirk didn’t reply and waited for Mark to continue in a flustered tone.

  “She asked me to come with her as a friend, to run interference, really. There’s nothing…” The amused grin on Dirk’s face stopped his stuttered defense. He gathered himself with more confidence. “Where have you been? Alma said you’ve been gone for months.”

  “Out of the country on a job,” he answered vaguely. “Thanks for accompanying her.” He gazed pointedly around the room.

  “No problem. It’s been a blast!” He glimpsed Alma moving back towards them. She had her gaze fixed on Mark until she was nearly at his side. Then she drew up short, amazement crossing her pretty face. Instead of the dark dress she’d worn to the gala in Boston months ago, she was sporting a conservative suit and high stilettos. Her skin was more tan than he remembered, though it hadn’t darkened quite as much as his in the equatorial sun.

  She stared for a moment, speechless. “What are you doing here?” she demanded in an even tone, standing several feet away.

  The greeting startled both Dirk and Mark.

  “I flew into Boston this afternoon. When I heard about your presentation, I headed here. Sorry I missed the speech.”

  Alma frowned.

  Mark cleared his voice. “I’m going to step away, if you’re okay, Alma?”

  She nodded distractedly and he melted into the crowd.

  Dirk held out his hands innocently. “I can go if you want,” he offered, truly stunned by her reaction.

  Her expression softened and she stepped closer. “No. I…I’m sorry. I guess I’m just in single-mode. This is really unexpected.”

  “Sorry to waylay you like this. I thought about texting, but I thought you wouldn’t have your phone.”

  He was right; her phone was stashed in the hotel room.

  “You don’t have to leave single-mode, if you don’t want. I’ll just hang out, like Mark.”

  There was a moment’s hesitation. She stepped forward and placed a hand on his jacket sleeve. “No. Stay, please.”

  A smile cracked his lips and he relaxed.

  “What’s this?” She ran a pointer finger through the tuft of light brown hair on his chin.

  Dirk chuckled and shrugged. “Just thought I’d try it.” In truth, he’d adopted it while on assignment as part of his ever-changing appearance.

  Alma squinted.

  He smiled at her silly expression, but awaited judgment.

  She frowned. “We’ll see.”

  “Fair enough.” Glad to have the awkward reunion behind them, he motioned overhead at the great blue whale suspended from the ceiling. “So, the Smithsonian. Congratulations! This is huge!”

  Alma shrugged. “It came about by default, really. The original speaker’s wife went into labor a week ago and he pulled his speech. The curator read my article just a few weeks previously and asked that I take his place.”

  “What was your speech in regards to?”

  “Mostly my summer exhibition to Alaska and orcas. But I interjected my experiences with the blue whale and the extraordinary behavior of the dolphins last summer.”

  “I wish I could have heard it.”

  She smiled gently. “You lived part of it. You needn’t be there for a boring speech.”

  Dirk suddenly recalled the spectacular orca display in Puget Sound and the death-defying efforts of the Atlantic common dolphins to protect them. He was unexpectedly thrilled to be included in her accounts.

  Alma snatched a pair of champagne flutes from a passing steward and passed one to Dirk.

  He clinked his glass to hers. “To brilliant scholarship!”

  She paused as if wanting to add something, but decided against it and took a drink. They sipped in silence for a while, both staring around the expanse at the multitude of visitors. The silence was the most awkward they’d ever shared. Music from a DJ echoed from the lobby of the museum. Dancers mingled among the shadows of the T-Rex skeleton.

  Dirk suddenly lifted Alma’s glass from her hand, set both glasses aside, and said, “I just want to dance.”

  She raised a brow, hesitating. The eerie crawl of secret sta
res from men among the crowd raised prickles along her neck. She took his proffered arm, adopted a pleasant smile and walked with him. The stares turned from aspiring to envious. Alma felt tension she hadn’t even been aware of dissipate and she leaned into Dirk’s arm.

  The weight on his body reassured Dirk. He’d been disconcerted by her abrupt reception. The trust she suddenly instilled in him released a breath of relief. He pulled her close on the dance floor, his strong arms encompassing her slender body. It wasn’t until she was pressing against him that he noticed the midnight blue pendant adorning her collar. Alma recognized his gaze and smiled timidly. Dirk replied with a wide, proud grin and stepped them off into a quick waltz.

  “Where were you?” Alma asked quietly as they whisked around the floor.

  He refrained from frowning at the question and the lie that must follow. “Around. I visited many countries over the past three months.” He sent a pointed glance at her shoulders. “If I’m not mistaken, you’ve been kayaking.”

  The smile that lit her lips relieved him even more. “A bit.” She’d visited the apartment a number of times before the leaves began to change and paddled the Charles River at her leisure. The activity provided a welcome release of tension and she’d become rather enraptured by the sport. She realized she was more fit and tan than she’d been in years. And due to Dirk’s astute powers of observation, she wasn’t surprised he’d noticed. She considered briefly describing the occasion she’d utilized his apartment more as a safe-haven than kayak storage.

  While on that side of town for a reunion with an old friend, she’d failed to hail a taxi and decided to suffer the long walk home. An unsettling tingle played at her neck and she’d glanced back to see a dark silhouette a block behind. She’d discarded the discomfort and continued on through the city. But her nerves tingled incessantly. She’d rounded Dirk’s block, found the figure still on her tail, and darted into his building. Now, she disregarded the experience as unimportant and probably the imagination of a tired brain.

 

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