The Huguenot Thief

by L. K. CLEMENT

  “She’s at work. Does she know you’re back in town?”

  “Not yet.”

  Amarintha touched his arm. “I’ve got some good news. My cancer has been knocked back a bit.”

  Jack looked at her and stepped back. Amarintha was still thin, very thin, but her face was pink, and she was moving in a way that didn’t look like a dying praying mantis. “What happened to you? I mean, you look good. Not that you didn’t look good before, I mean . . .”

  “I know what you mean,” Amarintha laughed. “My blood tests indicate that I’m making antibodies against my cancer, and I feel stronger. I don’t know if it’s permanent, but today at least is a very good day.” She smiled at Jack, and then turned to Ava and Fannie, both still on the swing.

  Richard said, “Come on in the house, Jack. I was just going to make some more coffee.”

  “Good morning,” said a voice behind Jack.

  Jack wheeled around and saw Thompson striding down the sidewalk. He regretted his anger towards the man and was anxious to understand how Chalk had seemingly manipulated Kate. Kate’s boss had been a good friend to Kate, making it easy for her not to travel because of him. What had really happened? Thompson reached the bottom of the porch steps and looked at Jack, who held out his hand and said, “How are you, Thompson?” The agent held Jack’s grip for a long time, nodding.

  Jack saw Thompson look at Amarintha, his eyes widening, a huge grin appearing on his face, holding his hands out to her. She took two steps towards him.

  As Thompson touched Amarintha’s hands, a concussive roar boomed and Richard’s porch shook. A second later, the group was hit by a whoosh of air, its unexpected presence, rather than its force, causing Amarintha to topple forward onto Thompson. Jack stumbled, and fell on his hands and knees to the sidewalk, the rough surface scraping his palms. Through the ringing in his ears, he heard the shrieking of car alarms and screaming from the porch. Still on his knees, Jack raised his head and looked northwest in the direction of the blast of air and saw a dark cloud rising, undulating, and spreading against the otherwise cloudless blue sky.

  He crawled to the porch steps and grabbed the rail. Richard had tumbled against the chains holding the swing to the porch ceiling. Underneath Richard, Jack could see Ava and Fannie struggling. Jack yelled to them, “Are you all right?” Richard nodded, pushed himself off the swing, and pulled Fannie and Ava into him. Looking behind him, Jack saw Thompson and Amarintha fumbling against each other on the ground, trying to stand.

  “Are you two ok? What . . .”

  A second boom extinguished his words. Jack looked in the direction of the second sound and watched in horror as the steeple on the Huguenot Church pancaked into the sanctuary below it. A wave of dust galloped towards them as if propelled by an invisible herd of horses. Car alarms continued their screeching. Through the continued ringing in his ears, Jack heard Fannie yelling, “What happened? Was that an earthquake?”

  Residents from every house rushed out onto the street. As Jack plunged into the crowd, he saw a cloud of smoke rising from the Huguenot Church, and another black plume rose higher from the west where the hospital was.

  “What the hell was that?” yelled Richard as he rushed down the stairs. Thompson was pulling Amarintha off the ground.

  “An earthquake!” Amarintha cried. Jack saw Thompson glance at Amarintha and then rush down the sidewalk to the street to join him. The two men grimly looked towards the hospital, a huge plume of smoke continuing to spread, a burning smell now reaching them.

  “That was no earthquake,” Jack yelled to Thompson.

  “No, those were explosions,” Thompson shouted back. The agent stopped in the street and turned back to look at Amarintha as Jack made his way towards his truck.

  Jack turned, cupped his hands, and bellowed to Richard, who still stood on the porch. “I’m going to find Sara. All of you get into the house and wait. Turn on CNN.” Jack jerked open the door of his truck and sat still for a moment thinking of how to get through the mass of pedestrians to the lawyer’s office where Sara worked. The route came to him and he sped away.

  Chapter 56

  Frank opened his eyes, feeling a trickle down his face. He touched his scalp, and brought his fingers to his face. Blood. Floppy white material covered his steering wheel. The airbag had deployed, and there was a buzz of voices in his ear.

  Static and then a voice, not Brook’s, but one of the agents in the car a few blocks away, said, “Detective Edson, what is your condition? Were you near one of the explosions?”

  “I’m ok, but something hit my car. What happened?”

  Static again and then the same voice. “A bomb has exploded at the Medical University and possibly one at the Huguenot Church. No information on casualties. Can you drive? We’re leaving to go to the scene.”

  “Give me a minute. I’ll radio you back.” Frank pulled himself out of the car, looked towards the rear of the vehicle and realized his sedan had been rear-ended by a small Toyota truck. He could see a driver slumped over the steering wheel, and a similar white cloth covering the truck’s dash. The detective rushed over to the other vehicle, opened the door, and put his fingers on the driver’s neck. The man was dead.

  He smelled burning tires in the air, and when he looked up, Frank saw two rising plumes of smoke being pushed northwest by the prevailing ocean winds. The undulating columns were converging in the sky, hundreds of feet overhead, creating a canopy of darkness that resembled tornadic thunderheads. Frank recognized the sirens of police and fire and briefly wondered how Charleston Fire and Police could cover both scenes.

  He stood motionless, and only a frenzied cyclist almost running into him motivated him to move off the street. He pulled up the body camera and asked, “Do you know what happened?”

  “Detective Edson, are you still near the Sims property?” The voice was Brook Reynolds’ and was rushed and high pitched. “Detective, I need you to bring the Sims family into protective custody.”

  “What? Why?” asked Frank. “My car was rear-ended. The driver behind me is DOA. Can you call it in?”

  “I will,” Brook said, “but nobody will come, not for a long while. All units are at the scenes. You can imagine what is going on. I need you to get the Sims and take them to police headquarters.”

  Frank looked at the traffic on Church Street and a block beyond towards Broad. Not a single car in the two streets was moving. “I got gridlock here. What’s the urgency on the Sims? Surely testing them can wait.”

  Brook’s voice became very emphatic. “Before the explosion, two men went to the lab and knocked out the two FBI agents guarding the lab. One of the technicians had just called 911 when the explosion occurred in the street. Two hospital employees were injured. The reliquary is gone. Do you hear me? It was taken.”

  “How the hell did anyone find out where it was?” asked Frank.

  “I don’t know. Just get the Sims and bring them in,” Brook said.

  Frank strode towards Richard’s house, pushing through the people that were now thronging the street. “You’re sure the reliquary is gone?” he yelled.

  “Yes,” Brook said; her voice uneven as if she was running.

  Frank kept moving. “I’ll call you when I have the Sims.”

  Chapter 57

  Torn between staying with Amarintha and running towards the Huguenot Church to assist, Thompson stood frozen in the street. Only minutes had passed since the explosion at the Church and already fire trucks were pulling in front of the sanctuary.

  Richard had rushed inside his house, and Thompson heard high-pitched, excited voices from the television in the living room. A new sound made its way into the continued jumble of noise and he looked up to see a news helicopter hovering overhead. Thompson began to push his way through the crowd, now milling in the street, towards Richard’s house. Where had all these people come from?


  Dozens of people were yelling, their efforts to communicate amidst the noise fruitless. The scene was surreal. Faces were angled down towards the electronics in their hands as the onlookers stumbled about, bumping into each other. Children were either part of the zombie-like crowd with their own electronic tethering devices, or were glued to adults’ legs and screaming like animals.

  Richard flung open the screen door. “Get in here. A bomb exploded in front of MUSC. The Huguenot Church was bombed too.”

  Thompson rushed through Richard’s front door. Ava, Fannie, and Amarintha sat huddled on the couch. Richard stood to the side. They all stared at the television.

  Amarintha’s appearance was still startling. Just moments before the explosion he had been shocked when he saw her. Now that she was still, he had the chance to study her. “Amarintha,” said Thompson, grabbing her arm. “Let’s get you home. Richard, do you have a car?”

  Richard started to say something, but then looked at Thompson’s face and nodded, “This way.” He led Thompson out the back door to his small garage and moved a trashcan out of the way, as Thompson pulled up the garage door. Richard squeezed his way through the garage, and brought out a golf cart. “This is all I have. My car is in the shop.”

  Thompson went to the street to see whether they could make it through the crowd. The onlookers seemed to be either going back inside or getting their own cars out of their small garages. Everyone was on the move.

  “Thompson,” someone yelled from the street.

  He turned to see Frank Edson running towards him, a wound on his scalp dripping blood.

  “What happened, Frank?” Thompson cried. “Are you ok?”

  The detective stopped and put his hands on his knees and took a few breaths before he replied. “I need to take Amarintha and her family to the police station. Agent Reynolds wants them in protective custody. The reliquary was stolen from the hospital during the explosion.” Frank wiped his sleeve on his head, smearing more blood on his face.

  Thompson gaped at Frank. “Someone stole the reliquary?”

  Richard got out of the cart. “Why would you take them?

  My tests came back ok. Are you with the CDC?” Richard

  asked.

  “I’m Detective Frank Edson, CPD, and I was asked to bring the Sims family into custody. They aren’t being arrested. This is for their protection, and the protection of the citizens of Charleston. The Vatican wants to talk to Amarintha.”

  The reliquary stolen—Amarintha perhaps affected by the contents of the reliquary—this was too much. He had to get her away from Charleston. Thompson moved close to Frank and hissed, “Taking them to the FBI could put them in danger. Don’t you realize that there has been a leak? Nobody outside the group knew about the reliquary. I don’t even know if Richard has told Amarintha that the CDC took it.”

  The detective shook his head and walked past Thompson towards the house.

  Thompson followed him, stopping only to whisper to Richard, “You have a boat right?”

  Richard nodded.

  “Get the Sims women off this peninsula. Take the three of them to Georgetown. If I can’t go with you now, I’ll meet you at the B&B that’s downtown.”

  Richard whispered back, “Are you sure?”

  Thompson nodded. “Somebody wants that reliquary, and when they find out you two are the only ones outside of the investigators at MUSC who touched it, they may want both of you.”

  “Mr. Anderson, what’s wrong? Who is this?” asked a voice. Thompson turned to see Ava on the porch steps. Her grandmother Fannie stood with her. The two of them stood still, and he could hear Amarintha behind them in the house. Frank had reached the porch.

  “This is Detective Edson,” Thompson said, looking at Ava.

  The girl’s hands were shaking as she pulled her hair out of her face. She said again, “What’s wrong?” Ava turned her head to the right, her widow’s peak coming into view as she pulled her hair into an elastic band, the cleft in her chin pointed towards him.

  “He needs to . . .” Thompson stopped speaking, his throat closing. “I, uh, I . . .” A memory of his own mother flooded him—her widow’s peak, her cleft chin, and her head always turning to the right when she asked him an uncomfortable question. He stood still, gaping at the now empty space as Ava and Fannie marched past him to stand by the golf cart.

  “Thompson, are you all right?” Amarintha asked. He heard her clatter down the stairs. She put her hand on his arm and shook him. Thompson started, looked at Amarintha, but said nothing.

  Frank had to yell over the continuing cacophony of sirens, yelling and the helicopter. “Ms. Sims, I’m Detective Edson with the Charleston Police. I need to take you, your daughter, and mother to the police station. We want to test you for pathogens.” Frank held out his badge to her, his head still oozing blood.

  Richard, standing by the cart with Ava and Fannie, yelled at Frank, “For God’s sake, I haven’t even had a chance to tell her about the damned reliquary.”

  “What are you talking about? Thompson, what’s happening?” Amarintha cried, her voice barely heard above the din.

  “Please Amarintha, you, Fannie and Ava get in the golf cart.” Thompson saw Frank put his hand on his handcuffs.

  “Thompson, I’ve got to take them in.” Frank pulled his camera to his mouth, presumably to ensure that whoever was listening could hear him over the noise. “I’m sorry.”

  Rushing to Frank, Thompson grabbed the handcuffs, shoved one of the bracelets on the startled detective’s wrist, and slammed the other shut on a thick porch rail. “I’m sorry too,” yelled Thompson, as he leaped into the golf cart and said, “Drive, Richard.”

  Chapter 58

  Jack drove the truck for only three blocks before it became impossible to move any farther. He veered into an alley, got out, and pushed against the crowd towards the hospital on the west end of the peninsula. Sara’s office was only two blocks from there.

  He ran for five minutes before seeing the fire. Jack shoved his way through an agitated line of people held back by the police, watching the firefighters from the Cannon Street Station pour water on the flames. Volunteer firefighters wearing James Island Fire Department uniforms rushed into the hospital, Scott packs on their backs. The noise was incredibly loud, a mixture of screaming, sirens, and alarms

  Hospital workers in scrubs of various colors stood crying, some trying to go back in the buildings, restrained by their co-workers. One woman, not in scrubs, but in a dark pantsuit, stood resolute with arms folded, scanning the crowd. It was Brook Reynolds, the FBI woman from the meeting.

  She saw Jack and pushed her way over to him. “What do you know about this?” she shouted at him, shaking his arm.

  “Nothing. I’m trying to get to Bee Street. I came to find my daughter,” Jack yelled back, not looking at her, as he paced back and forth attempting to see over the heads of the alarmed and frightened people. Could he get through to the lawyer’s office where Sara was, or would he have to make a multi-block

  detour?

  “Mr. Strong, you can help by getting over to the main police station, so you can be interviewed.” She waved her other arm to an officer, not letting go of Jack.

  Jack pushed her away. “Listen, I’m just a citizen who wants to find his daughter and then find my wife. Yesterday was the first time I met you, and until Thompson dropped his files at my feet, all I knew was that my wife was missing.”

  “This bombing is connected to your wife’s disappearance!” She was almost shouting, and then said in a calmer voice, “I need you to cooperate, Mr. Strong. I promise we’ll get your wife back.” A policeman saw Brook and was moving toward her, reaching for his radio.

  Jack looked at the flames and the billowing smoke and calculated how long it would be before Brook Reynolds’ attention would turn from a bombing to a missing wife. Not soon enough. He shoved
her away and stumbled into several people, making his way south away from the scene. He finally disappeared into the crowd, running back towards his truck.

  Leaping over a low gate into a walled garden, Jack crouched behind a porch. He was breathing in halting gulps, his heart racing. Where was his daughter? He pulled his phone from his back pocket to call Sara and saw a text from her.

  U there?

  He replied quickly: Yes. Where u?

  I wasn’t downtown, was out on MP.

  Jack thought quickly. She was in Mount Pleasant, ten miles or so from Awendaw. He typed, Get to Awendaw and wait for me at the old store we used to go to.

  RU ok, Daddy?

  Yes, I’m fine.

  Daddy, I’m scared. I heard there were explosions downtown. One was at Mom’s church.

  I know, we’ll be ok, I’ll see you soon.

  Chapter 59

  Thompson pushed Fannie into the front seat beside Richard, jumped up into the back of the small cart, and held onto the grab bar as he pulled Ava and Amarintha into the back.

  “Why did you do that?” Amarintha asked pointing to Frank, as Richard backed out. “Who is he if he’s not a detective?”

  “Oh, he’s a detective all right, but you cannot be taken in for testing,” said Thompson.

  “Testing for what, for God’s sakes?” Amarintha was holding onto Ava, trying not to fall into Thompson’s lap as Richard moved through the remaining people on the street.

  “We’re headed to the marina. I’ll explain once we get there,” said Thompson.

  “The marina? Why?”

  Richard started driving towards the marina as fast as the cart was capable of moving. Ava was on the other side of Amarintha, so she leaned towards Thompson to hear, giving him another jolt of recognition.

  “Amarintha, your reliquary was taken to the hospital. Someone stole it from there,” yelled Thompson.