“I have the horses ready for us,” Helen said. “Come on.”
He followed Helen to the stables, where Helen’s horse Gennifer and a dark-brown horse named Saber waited for them. Helen waited to make sure he was comfortable on his horse before mounting Gennifer. The horses took a slow walk out of the facility. Once past the boundaries of the treatment center, Helen took off on Gennifer. Troy tried to keep up. They rode fast on the clear, open trail for more than an hour until they reached a small, tree-lined, open meadow. The jagged peaks of the Rocky Mountains rose at the end of the meadow.
Helen guided Gennifer toward a large, flat granite rock in a sunny area of the meadow. Saber followed Gennifer. Troy dismounted, and the horses wandered into the meadow to graze.
“You must come here often,” Troy said.
“I like it here,” Helen said. “I can think here. I’m looking forward to exploring a little more when it warms up.”
“National forest?” Troy asked.
“BLM,” Helen said.
“Native land?” Troy asked.
“I think so,” Helen said. “There’s a series of caves in the mountain. I haven’t seen them. I just heard they are amazing.”
“Friends?” Troy looked surprised.
“Boyfriend,” Helen blushed.
Troy beamed.
“You’ve met him,” Helen said. “And don’t worry — Alex checked him out.”
“Stefan from Ghana,” Troy said. “The physics professor.”
Their unlikely friendship had begun one day when a troubled Air Force cadet told Helen that he was going to be kicked out of the Air Force Academy because he was failing Stefan’s “General Physics I.” Not willing to accept that physics could be hard, Helen began tutoring the boy. The next test, the cadet received the highest score in the class. When he immediately credited his “miraculous tutor,” Stefan had insisted on meeting Helen himself.
The casual meeting led to an invitation for Helen to speak to Stefan’s class. Troy went with her. To calm her down, Troy started telling physics jokes, and their talk turned into a kind of “What do you know about physics?” comedy routine. The class adored them. At the end of the night, Stefan had invited them to dinner to thank them. Troy strategically bowed out. Stefan and Helen had seen each other at least once a week ever since.
“We’re taking it really slow,” Helen smiled. “We haven’t . . .”
“Whoa! Stop! No!” Troy held up his hand so she’d stop talking. “I don’t want to know. Too much information!”
Helen laughed. She took a seat on the granite rock and opened her water bottle. He sat down next to her and took out a baggie of caramel-infused, chocolate-chocolate chip cookies. He set the cookies between them.
“Hector James?” Helen asked.
“His specialty,” Troy said.
“He really is a great kid,” Helen said. “Hermes, too.”
“They are amazing,” Troy said. “I brought tea.”
“Tea time.” Helen turned to look at him. “It must be bad.”
“Sort of,” Troy nodded.
“Lay it on me, brother,” Helen said. “I’ll pour.”
She took the two-cup stainless-steel thermos from him.
“What do you know about Linear A?” Troy asked.
Surprised, Helen’s eyes jerked up to look at him. He nodded.
“Let’s see . . .” Helen poured him a cup of tea and gave it to him. “It’s an ancient language made up of mostly symbols. It seems to be unrelated to any other language, including Linear B. For a long time, people thought Linear B had evolved from Linear A, but we now know they are completely different systems. Scholars believe Linear B was used to catalog things — livestock, wealth, things like that. Linear A was used primarily for religious texts, although that could be because it was the written language of royalty. But no one knows. Uh . . .”
Helen shrugged.
“A lot of mathematicians think they can decipher Linear A,” Helen said. “I never touched it because of the curse.”
“The curse?” Troy asked.
“Anyone who had ever gotten close to deciphering Linear A died in some weird way,” Helen nodded. “Deadly cancer that comes out of nowhere. Michael Ventis, the guy who deciphered Linear B, died in an accident with a parked truck. He was supposed to have finished deciphering Linear A less than an hour before. No one found his work. I knew a guy who was working on Linear A when he was impaled on the four-foot steel fence around his front yard. Lost his footing and fell, you know, on the sharp, pointy ends of the fence. It happened just before dark. The fence was surrounded by evergreen shrubs, so no one noticed him until morning. He died right there in his front yard while his wife and children were inside the house.”
“Wow,” Troy said.
“You remember him, don’t you?” Helen asked. “He was one of Dad’s graduate students. A real rising star.”
Troy shook his head.
“Yeah, so, I never had anything to do with Linear A.”
“Did Dad?” Troy asked. “Our brother Hector?”
Helen looked at him and drained her teacup. He gave her the thermos. Her hand shook when she poured herself more tea.
“I’m not trying to decide what to tell you, like some loyal-Dad-automaton,” Helen said. “I’m just thinking it through.”
“Take your time,” Troy said.
“I want to say ‘no,’” Helen said. “But the graduate student and . . . Dad was very into all that Minoan stuff. Our family is from Crete. You remember that — right?”
“We are Minoan,” Troy said in a near-perfect imitation of the monster that was their father. “The blood of King Minos runs through our veins.”
Uncomfortable, Helen shifted and looked away from him.
“I always wished we were connected to King Midas,” Troy smiled. “Not King Minos.”
Helen burst out laughing. They fell silent and watched the meadow. They were rewarded by the appearance of a large bull elk with five-point antlers covered in velvet. When the elk noticed them, he disappeared into the brush.
“This is a big deal,” Helen said.
“Probably,” Troy said. “Do you think it’s possible that Dad was involved with a clandestine group that, for lack of a better description, ‘burns the world down’ every time average people gain some power?”
“It does sound like him,” Helen said. “He always ranted about that kind of thing. Remember? I told you last year.”
Troy nodded, and they fell silent again. Helen drank the last of her tea. Picking up the thermos, she pretended to squeeze out the last drops. Troy laughed.
“You want me to go see Dad,” Helen said.
“I don’t,” Troy said. “I’d never ask you to do that. But . . .”
“Would it help?” Helen asked. “I mean, with whatever you and Alex are doing?”
“We think so,” Troy said.
Helen nodded. She looked off into the edge of the meadow for a few moments.
“It does sounds like Dad,” Helen said. “He believes there is a definite ruling class of elite intellectuals, artists, and contributors. I always wondered what he was so hot about, when we weren’t exactly the ruling class.”
“What if we were?” Troy asked.
Helen shrugged.
“No idea,” Helen said. “Do you mind if I think about it?”
“Going to see Dad?” Troy asked. “Take your time. The most important thing to me is that you do what’s best for you. Nothing else really matters.”
Helen’s head went up and down, but she looked unconvinced.
“It would be good to know, though,” Helen said. “This and a few other things.”
“If you talk to him, you wouldn’t do it alone,” Troy said. “I’d be there. My team. Alex.”
“But not in the room with me, right?” Helen asked. “He wants to see me. Just me. He keeps writing me and asking if I’ll come to see him. I think he has some things he’d like me to do. If I see him, I’d h
ave to go in alone.”
“Yes.”
Helen grimaced.
“Why don’t you think about it?” Troy asked. “Talk to your therapist, Gennifer. Maybe your boyfriend has some wisdom to share.”
Helen smiled.
“What?” Troy asked.
“I have a boyfriend,” Helen laughed.
Troy smiled at his sister.
F
Chapter Nine
Monday evening
May 16 — 5:59 p.m. MDT
Denver, Colorado
“There you are,” Erin said.
Matthew heard her voice when he came in the front door of their Denver Square home. The house was dark. He was about to say her name when she spoke.
“I’m in here,” Erin said.
He followed her voice into the living room. She was sitting in her reading chair next to the fireplace. Erin usually sat in that chair when she was reading scientific journals or breastfeeding Grace. The only light in the room was the reading lamp, which hung directly over the chair. Erin held a letter in her hand. She was staring into the dark room. Feeling his gaze, she lifted the edges of her mouth in a smile. But her forehead never shifted from its wrinkled scowl.
“Am I late?” Matthew asked. He turned on a floor lamp near the couch.
“Late?” Erin asked. “No, I don’t think so.”
“What’s going on, Erin?” Matthew smiled.
Erin looked down at the letter. Her hand clutched the sheet of paper so tightly that it crumpled under the pressure. She looked up at him.
“I want to get married,” Erin said. “In fact, the sooner, the better.”
“Okay,” Matthew said.
“And this ring?” Erin gestured to the one-carat diamond sitting on her left finger. “I want a bigger ring — much, much bigger ring. Big.”
“Uh . . .” Matthew said. “What about blood diamonds and all of that?”
“I don’t care about that anymore,” Erin said.
She gave him a curt nod and stood up from her reading chair. She walked toward him. He assumed she was going to hug and kiss him as she had every time he’d come in the door for the last three years. Instead, she thrust the letter at his chest. He caught it, and she walked past. He was so surprised that she was out of the room before he recovered.
“Erin?” Matthew asked.
“I’m going to Sami’s,” Erin said.
She started out the back of the house.
“Where’s Grace?” Matthew managed to get out before she left the house.
“Alex’s,” Erin yelled. “You’ll need to pick her up.”
The back door slammed.
“Erin?” Matthew asked. He went through their dining room and into the kitchen.
Erin was gone.
He looked around the kitchen. Even though it was her night to cook, she hadn’t started dinner. Something was definitely wrong. He scowled and started to follow her out the back. His hand was on the door when he realized he was holding the letter she’d been reading. He looked down at the letter. It was too dark to read. He flipped on the kitchen lights.
The letter was from the Department of Justice, Camp Delta division. Matthew scowled.
Why would the Department of Justice send Erin a letter about Guantanamo Bay?
He leaned against the wall to read. Marcos Ruiz, Erin’s ex-boyfriend, had recently agreed to plead guilty to reduced charges of treason and receiving foreign monies to support a war against the US. He would be sentenced to twenty years in a Federal prison to be served within the continental United States. With good-conduct time, Marcos could possibly be out of prison in fifteen years.
Marcos had one condition of his acceptance of the plea bargain and sentence. He wanted to spend one hour with Erin, preferably before he left Cuba. He didn’t care if the hour was monitored or if he remained in shackles. He only wanted to spend an hour with her.
Matthew swallowed hard.
According to the letter, if Marcos was unable to spend time with Erin, he would withdraw his agreement to the plea deal. His case would go to open court, where Erin would be subpoenaed to testify. The images and videotapes of Marcos’s various assaults on Erin would become public record, and the images that had led to Alex being held hostage would become available to the general public. While anything pertaining to Alex would be redacted, it was only a matter of time before Alex would have to go into hiding.
The Department of Justice strongly encouraged Erin to cooperate with their case.
“Oh, Erin,” Matthew said in a low voice.
His heart pounded with rage and indignation. He took his cell phone out of his pocket to call Alex. Looking at the phone, he saw the time and remembered what Erin said about getting married.
Marcos Ruiz had cost Erin enough. He wasn’t going give that bastard a moment more of their time.
Smiling to himself, he jogged out the front door. He went down the sidewalk, past Samantha and Colin’s home, to the rooming house. He let himself into Alex’s side of the big house.
“John?” Matthew called.
“We’re in here,” Max said.
Matthew went down the hall to the shared kitchen and into the shared living area. John and Alex’s twins were lying on the floor, while Grace was playing blocks with Max.
“I need to borrow some money,” Matthew said.
“What do you need?” John asked.
“A really big diamond,” Matthew pointed to his left hand. “The bigger, the better.”
“Anything else?” Max laughed.
“A priest,” Matthew said.
John and Max looked at each other and then back at Matthew. Wyatt came in from Max’s living room with Hector James and Hermes on his tail. The boys were a study in contrasts. Hector James had hit a growth spurt. Growing by the minute, Hector James was starting to catch up to his tall father. Hermes, on the other hand, had his mother’s delicate bone structure, which made him look like a little boy. Wyatt put a new video game in the console, and the boys got their controllers from the shelf.
“Well?” Matthew asked.
“What’s going on?” Hermes asked.
“Matthew and Erin are getting married,” Max said.
“When?” Wyatt asked.
“Tonight,” John said. “Max, my old friend?”
“I’ll take him ring shopping,” Max said. “You’ll get the priest?”
“I will,” John said. He took out his phone and called his brother. “Cian? We need a wedding cake. Two hours? Can we wait two hours?”
Matthew nodded.
“Perfect,” John said.
“What can I do?” Wyatt asked.
“We want to help!” Hector James said.
“You boys can help Cian,” John said. “He’ll be here in a minute. You know how much he needs your help.”
Hector James and Hermes cheered.
“I need something to wear,” Matthew said. “Erin and Grace do, too. With the new baby on the way, we can’t really pay for anything.”
“I can take you,” Wyatt said.
Max and John looked at each other.
“Why don’t you go with Matthew to get a ring?” Max laughed. “We’ll come up with something for them to wear.”
“Done,” Wyatt said.
“What about Alex?” Matthew asked. “She’s not here. She’ll kill me for doing this while she’s gone.”
“I’ll call her,” John said.
“No, I will call her,” Max said.
“Max will call her,” John said.
Matthew looked at Wyatt and then at John. His gaze fell on Max.
“That’s it?” Matthew asked.
“We’d do anything for love,” Max said.
“We love love!” Hermes said. He did a little jump, which made Matthew smile.
“Love?” Troy asked as he came in from the kitchen. He was carrying a large bowl filled with buttered popcorn. “What are we doing for love?”
“Uncle Mattie and Auntie Erin are
getting married!” Hector James said.
“Right now!” Hermes said.
“Tonight,” John said.
“Tonight!” Hermes repeated.
“Really?” Troy asked Matthew.
Matthew passed Troy the letter. He gave a low whistle.
“Exactly,” Matthew said.
“Honeymoon!” John said. “You’ll need reservations!”
“We just need the night,” Matthew said. “That is, if you’ll keep Grace for us.”
“Of course,” Wyatt said.
“Got it,” John said and picked up Joey. “Honeymoon this weekend.”
“That’s a very good idea,” Max said and picked up Máire. “You know, we should look into . . .”
Max turned away from them to speak privately with John.
“Come on, Troy,” Wyatt said. “This is an Army-only diamond hunt.”
“Good thinking,” Troy said, and set the bowl of popcorn on the dining-room table.
Matthew looked at Wyatt and Troy. Seeing they were serious, he laughed.
FFFFFF
Monday night
May 16 — 8:31 p.m. EDT (6:31 p.m. MDT)
Tribeca, New York City, New York
“Here he comes,” Colin said into their earbud communicator.
Back at Raz’s old apartment, Colin was monitoring them via an ATM’s security camera. Alex smiled at Raz and took his hand.
“Now,” Colin said.
“Come on,” Alex said.
She giggled flirtatiously and pulled Raz behind her. They whipped around the corner. Raz used his long arms to turn her into his chest. They held each other close in a lovers’ embrace.
“Wait for it,” Colin said.
Raz dropped his face into her neck.
“Show time,” Colin said.
“Not here!” Alex giggled.
Raz tried to kiss her lips, but she pulled away. She took off again. He caught her hand, and they moved down the sidewalk. Moving from behind Alex, Raz ran into his old partner’s right shoulder.
“Hey!” the police detective said.
“Sorry, Dex,” Raz said when his head was next to the detective’s ear.
The police detective stopped in his tracks. Raz and Alex kept moving and laughing.
“He’s watching,” Colin said.
Finding North Page 8