Jerry White was a tall man with a dark crew cut heavily waxed in front. He wore a plaid shirt and a woven tie that had gone out of style with disco. His pocket bulged with the micro recorder that was a dead giveaway he was a newspaperman of the post-1980 variety. Cole was taught to take notes and commit to memory. Memory was his greatest gift and worst enemy.
“Jerry!” Cole waved his arm as he called out.
“Hello.” The tall man offered his hand to Cole, who took it.
“Have a seat.” Cole indicated the chair across the table from him.
“So, all the way from Chicago.” White said, sitting. “How are we so honored?” He took out the mini-recorder from his pocket and clicked “Record.”
Cole reached across the table and clicked the recorder off.
“Want some tea?” Cole had grown tired of having to tell about Ellie to people who really could care less.
“Yeah, thanks. So what can you tell—”
“Look, here’s the thing. I have made a complete report to the FBI. Since we talked, I’m not quite sure how much I should tell you, mostly because I fear for your safety. So, here’s a start. An FBI agent named Fergusson will be in town soon to investigate several leads I gave him. They include attempted bribery of a city official. That, you cannot print. Here’s what you can, and it’s the tip of the iceberg. Put somebody good on this and who knows what may turn up.
“There’s a local street punk called Tree Top Jefferson who’s been trading diamonds for cars, boats, motorcycles, and who knows what. He then turns around and sells them.”
“What’s the point of that?” White replied.
“There’s a huge markup in bulk diamonds—five, maybe six hundred percent. So, a $1,000 stone wholesale is worth $6,000 retail. They trade three or four stones for a $16,000 to $20,000 car, costs them four grand. They turn around and sell it for $11,000 to $16,000 and pocket the difference. Slick, huh?”
“So what’s illegal? I don’t get it.”
“You have to pay for the stones. Tree Top’s guy didn’t, hasn’t, can’t, whatever—thus, the Feds. Interstate mail fraud.”
“Yikes.”
“It’s like pebbles in a pond from there. Call Fergusson. Let him know you’ve been tipped off to the diamond scam. He seems like a fair guy. He’ll probably give you first shot at the story.”
“I really appreciate you giving us the scoop. How in the world did you stumble on this diamond thing?”
“When you turn over rocks, you’re gonna find bugs, Jerry. Hungry?”
“I could eat a horse.”
“I don’t think they serve that here,” Cole said dryly.
“What?”
“Never mind. You buying?”
“Of course.”
Cole smiled and gently waved at the young waitress.
“Ready to order?” she smiled brightly, pad in hand.
“I’d like the fried rice,” Jerry began.
“What! No, no, no. You can’t come in a fine place like this and order fried rice. Come on, Jerry, get with the spirit of things.” Cole winked at the waitress. “Cancel the fried rice. We’ll have Tom Yum Goong, not too hot. Pra Ram Long Song and Tom Yum Talay Haeng. Diet Coke for me. How ‘bout you, Jer?”
“I don’t see any of that stuff on the menu,” Jerry said frowning at Cole.
“He’ll have a 7-Up.”
“How’d you know...” Jerry trailed off.
“Sit back and relax Jerry, this is going to be an adventure.”
SIXTEEN
By the time Cole and Jerry White had finished eating lunch and exchanging war stories, it was nearly four o’clock. Cole had supplied tale after tale of the big city reporter and foreign correspondent. Jerry had told of local scandals and a couple of grisly murders. Cole had told of how Brennan had taken a chance on him when he was just starting out and how he always seemed to end up working for Brennan regardless of where he wandered. Jerry explained how he went from editor of the high school paper “right here in town” to cub reporter. The farthest he had ever gotten was San Francisco for the Republican National Convention.
The one thing that anyone eavesdropping would have picked up on was the love these two had for the newspaper business. They were a million miles apart in experience and recognition, but they were part of a brotherhood that spoke the same language, understood the rush of a scoop, and the thrill of seeing your name in print.
Before they parted, Jerry had written down what they had ordered and said he was bringing his wife back for dinner. He thought it would really impress her. Cole left with a promise from Jerry that he’d send clippings of anything from his tip.
As Cole entered the convalescent home, he noticed that for the first time since he’d arrived Eastwood Manor was bustling with wheelchairs and walkers. He stopped at the front desk and told Skillings, the office manager, that she would receive full payment for the next 12 months and all back payments due. She offered Cole a piece of See’s candy from a two-pound box behind the counter. He took two of his favorites—California Brittle and molasses chips—from the little brown paper cups. Money wasn’t supposed to make you happy, but it seemed to Cole that the billing department had forgotten to tell Skillings. Suddenly, Cole had a new best friend.
He moved quietly through the halls on his way to Ellie’s room, making an effort to smile at everyone he passed. Everyone he saw was well over 70. Why was Ellie in this place? He should have used the money from the diamonds to find a better hospital. Maybe there was a place with younger patients, people with some hope of leaving. It was then he remembered that Ellie wouldn’t be leaving. Call it denial or whatever you want, but he just couldn’t face her not getting well.
When he poked his head through the door, she was propped up in bed watching television.
“Days of Our Lives, El?”
“Cole, hi. Come sit down. It’s almost over.”
“It’s been going on for 40 years! You really think it’s ending today?”
“Hush.” Ellie smiled.
Ellie looked better than he had seen her since he arrived. Her hair had been washed and combed. She no longer had the shoulder-length curls he so adored. Her hair was cut short and was heavily streaked with gray. It was becoming and seemed to fit her. Her eyes sparkled as Cole bent to give her a peck on the forehead.
“Stop, the nurses will all gossip.” Her smile grew even bigger.
“Let ‘em! They’re probably bored. Since when do you watch the opium of the masses?”
“That’s religion, not TV. Hush.”
Even though speech was difficult, the old sparkle of Ellie’s personality still shined through. It lifted Cole’s spirits to see her obviously feeling better. As he sat, he looked at her for a long moment. A commercial suddenly blasted the room with a scene of a happy housewife spraying something around a room. Ellie clicked off the TV.
“It is good to see you,” she said.
“You look terrific. Must be feeling better today.”
“I have good days and not so good ones. With you here, it’s a really good one.”
“Flirt! Got some good news for you.” Cole scooted his chair around so he faced Ellie. “I met with Allen, and the power of attorney has been shredded.”
“Oh, Cole.” Tears welled in Ellie’s eyes.
“Knock that off, or I’ll go tape it back together.”
“Thank you. You just don’t know how much it means.”
“Oh, I think I do.” Cole smiled. “I also have some not-so-good news. Are you up for it? I can wait until later if—”
“My laters aren’t always predictable. I’m a big girl. What is it?” Ellie seemed to straighten a bit, bracing herself for what was to come.
“Two things, actually.” Cole cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “First, I found Erin.” He sighed and looked deep into Ellie’s eyes for a long moment before continuing, “She won’t come back, El. I am so sorry. I failed you.” Cole felt his face redden. “She is a beautiful girl. L
ooks just like her mom. No wonder you’re so proud of her. But there’s a lot of hurt and misunderstanding there. Reminds me of you—not just looks, but her laugh and some of her mannerisms.”
“Does she know I’m sick, Cole?”
“I told her. She cried and then got angry, kind of like I did. I think I softened her up a bit, though. She’ll come around. She loves you a lot, said so. She’s just mixed up. I am so sorry, Ellie.”
“I hurt her.” Tears were streaming down Ellie’s cheeks. “I was so wrong to side with Allen. How could I have been such a fool?”
“There’s one other thing.” Cole looked down at his foot as it traced the lines around the gray speckled tile.
“What is it, Cole? Is she in trouble? Please, Cole, tell me.”
“She’s married, Ellie.”
Ellie gasped and threw her hand over her mouth. “Oh, Cole,” she muttered, “I wasn’t there with her.”
“You might as well have it all. You’re a grandma. A little girl named Jenny.”
Closing her eyes, Ellie turned her head away from Cole and quietly sobbed. Cole stood and gently stroked her arm, allowing her a mournful moment.
“She’s just beautiful. I saw a picture. Lots of curly hair, just like you and Erin. Erin said her husband spoils her something awful.”
Ellie reached over and took Cole’s hand. “I’ll die and never see them. Do you think this is how my parents felt when I was out running all over the country? This is payback, isn’t it?”
“Come on. I don’t believe in Karma. She’ll come around. I got a good feeling about it.”
“How could I be so happy and so sad at the same time?” Ellie gave a half-hearted laugh.
“I don’t know, but when you figure it out, explain it to me, won’tcha?” Cole brushed her cheek with his knuckles.
“So, what else?”
“What?”
“You said you had a couple of not-so-good pieces of news. I hope the second one isn’t the ‘wow’ finish.” Ellie smiled softly. “Go on, don’t play dumb.”
“Are you sure? I didn’t, I mean, I hate upsetting you.”
“It’s all right. I cry a lot lately, it won’t kill me. As much as I wish it would.”
“Hey, no talk like that.”
“Go on, Cole,” she pressed.
“It’s Allen.”
“He’s divorcing me,” she said flatly.
Cole laughed nervously and said, ‘No such luck.”
“Well, it mustn’t be too bad.”
“That really depends on your point of view, I guess. Allen’s in big trouble. He’ll probably go to jail.”
Ellie stared straight ahead and didn’t speak. Her hands were in her lap, and she twisted the blanket between her fingers. Cole could see the muscles in her jaw flexing. She turned with a steely glare and said, “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I did some digging around while I was trying to figure out how to get the power of attorney back, and I guess I turned over too many rocks.”
“I don’t want to know.” Ellie’s tone had finality to it. It was the closing of a door.
“I don’t want you to worry, though; you’ll be taken care of. I promise.”
“You can’t afford to pay—”
“It’s already done. Didn’t hurt me a bit, honest.”
“Oh Cole, I feel like such a fool.” Ellie’s voice had become shaky again. “I’m so ashamed to have you see all this. Please forgive me for dragging you out here.” She began to cry.
Cole lowered the metal rail and sat on the side of the bed. He took Ellie’s hand. She continued to weep gently. Cole had no words. He felt ashamed that the man who had made a lifetime of choosing and molding and polishing words had none in this moment. He felt a lump in his throat and gritted his teeth. He knew his time with Ellie was nearly over. Brennan would want him back in Chicago soon. He ached deep in his chest. He thought of quitting the paper, moving back, and spending Ellie’s last days together. He knew that was not the answer.
Cole had spent so many years longing to be with Ellie. He had dreamt and fantasized about how their lives would someday come together again. Now here they were—she, an invalid, he, a ship without anchor. As he sat gently stroking her hand, he tried to imagine a life without thoughts of Ellie. He wouldn’t forget her, he wasn’t worried about that, but she’d always been
his hope.
Few things in life are as important as hope. No one knew better than Cole Sage. He had about lost all hope until Ellie’s call for help. His great chance to see her again. His opportunity to provide for her all the things he had always longed to. Two tasks, like some hero from a book. Two tasks to prove his faithfulness, his dedication, his love. He had saved Erin’s inheritance. Just like the old cowboy movies, the stranger had ridden in and gotten back the mortgage to the ranch. Only Cole wouldn’t get the girl in the end. The end would get the girl.
As they sat quietly side by side, his mind drifted back to the first time he’d lost her. It was a Christmas long ago. Ellie had decided she needed more space. Cole had begun thinking about the future after college, and it included being married to Ellie. She, on the other hand, was beginning to get ideas about travel and “finding herself.” He had bought her a book of poems. It was leather bound and had gold letters embossed on the front and spine. It was a collection of Victorian poetry. Soft, sentimental, mushy—just the kind she liked, or so he thought. He couldn’t return it, so in an effort to get her back, he drove over to her house. Her father met him at the door and took the package. Cole had paid a lot of money for the book and had made it even pricier by buying authentic Victorian paper and bows to wrap it in, even paying a woman at a framing gallery to add a calligraphy inscription on the flyleaf.
“Waste of time, Cole.” Her father told him.
“She’s never been a waste of time to me, sir.” Cole had said softly.
“Well , you might as well know, she’s seeing someone else.”
“Merry Christmas, sir, and please tell Ellie ‘hello’ for me.”
Ellie’s dad looked hard at the package, shook his head, and closed the door. Cole walked to the car in a fog. He was in a complete daze, numb, and his hands were trembling. Before he reached the end of the street, he pulled over and vomited out the open car door. He didn’t hear a word his professor had said that night in Rhetoric class. Arriving home, his heart skipped a beat when his mother said that Ellie had come by and dropped off a present. She pointed to the hall table, and there was the present he had taken her. He didn’t know how to get along without her then and now that she was back in his life, the fear of life without her was just as strong. The difference was that this time there would be no second and third chance.
Getting Erin to come see her mother couldn’t be as hopeless as he felt. He knew that a child of Ellie’s couldn’t be as heartless and selfish as Erin seemed on the surface. He’d connected with her. He could feel her kindness. She had put up a wall that would take some time to tear down, but she would come around. She had to. Ellie seemed so strong today when he first arrived. She was having a reprieve from the pain, and her voice for the most part was normal. Cole prayed that his news wouldn’t give her a setback. If they could only have a little more time like today, before he had to leave.
Cole stayed until a nurse came and said it was time for Ellie’s bath. Ellie had told stories of Erin as a little girl. They reminisced about their times together. They had laughed and, for just a little while, forgot about the disease that was slowly killing her. Cole told her stories of his times overseas, in the jungles, the food he had eaten, his love of the ocean. He had even confessed about the island girl he’d thought he was in love with.
When the time came to leave, he left her and didn’t look back. Their bond was so strong that even with all the years between them, it had not broken. And for a brief time that evening, they’d been 20 years old again.
SEVENTEEN
Cole drove back to the motel with a big smile on his
face. He hit the speed bump at the entrance to the parking lot and realized he’d been on cruise control. Thoughts of Ellie and the memories they had relived were like a tonic. Cole felt a deep healing inside, like the dark cloud that had been in front of the sun was blown aside gently by a spring breeze. His soul was brightened. He began whistling as he locked the car door and started toward the stairs to his room.
As he passed the alcove next to the stairs, he sensed a movement, a shadow, but it was too late to process. As he lifted his right foot to plant it on the bottom stair, he was dropped to his knees by a blow to the back of his head. His hands hit the stair. He pushed up. A pair of arms slid through his and spun him around. With his arms behind his back, he was nearly helpless as he was lifted up to his toes.
Standing in front of him was Tree Top’s man with the parrot tattoos. Before Cole could react, the man punched him hard in the stomach. The hours of hitting the body bag in the gym paid off, and Cole heaved out all the air in his lungs.
“Good evening, Mr. Smart Mouth from Chicago,” the tattooed man sneered.
Cole gasped for air. He had an aura of sparklers surrounding his vision, and he was afraid he was blacking out.
“What? Nothing clever to say?” The man slapped Cole with the back of his hand on the right side of Cole’s face.
His ears rang, but the slap seemed to clear Cole’s head a bit, and he raised his eyes to look at the man. He was bigger than Cole remembered and had his head shaved smooth, but the huge parrot tattoos were unmistakable.
“Ooh, look here, Tommy, Chicago looks pissed.” Tattoo spoke to the man holding Cole.
Cole listened to the two men banter back and forth and for the first time realized how stupid they must be. Like a couple of really dumb schoolyard bullies who torment their victim, they teased Cole.
“Want some more? Mr. Wise Guy, cat got your tongue?”
“Maybe he likes it,” said the voice from behind him.
Cole tried to twist away from the grip on his arms, but he was still dazed. He breathed deeply and tried to calm the pain and the nausea from the blow to his stomach.
Diamonds and Cole: A Cole Sage Mystery Page 17