Storm Surge (Quantum Touch Book 5)

by Michael R. Stern

  “Fritz Russell, I'm ashamed of you,” she began. “You've let my bitch daughter dig a hole so deep that even with her fancy MBA, she hasn't found a way to get out. And you let her spend a summer with her crazy father.” She took a bite and shook her finger at him. “If Joe hadn't come home, I'd have flown here.” She patted her son's arm. “But he offered to give me a ride.” Then she patted his face.

  Fritz examined her. Was this his mother-in-law, or a clone with a personality transplant. “Emily, what are you doing here?”

  “Well, I've left Tim.” Joe laughed. “You hush up. Not really but he thinks I have. And so does YOUR WIFE. I asked Joe to help me.”

  Joe jumped in. “I stopped yesterday on my way to Boston. New job. By dinner, the old man and I had started arguing.”

  His mother slapped the back of his head. “Don't be disrespectful. He's your father.”

  “Sorry, Mom. And you're here, why?”

  “That's different. Now as I was saying. I've been telling Linda to call you for weeks. But she's as stubborn as her father.”

  “No kidding,” said Joe.

  She ignored her son and continued. “When you didn't show up, I had to do something.” She looked at her hand. “This is a good sandwich. What is it?”

  “Pastrami,” said Fritz. “Emily, I don't mean to stop you, but what are you doing?”

  “Well, I decided that if Linda could be stubborn, so could I. I've been trying to get Tim to make her come home, but he just kept saying she'll go when she wants to, and if you were too afraid to come get her, then she could stay forever.”

  “After all he's seen, he really believes that?”

  “Oh Fritz, you poor child. You're so much like Joe. Neither one of you understands him.” She sighed. “Well, maybe I have a little more experience. He's just a bully, and people let him get away with it. I learned a long time ago, if you confront a bully, you can make him back down. The rest of the time I just ignore him.” The table erupted in laughter. Her glance ended the humor. His mother-in-law's delivery turned the drama in his life to comedy. “You've done it, Fritz. Made him back down. When we were here for Linda's graduation. She's a bully too. You've managed her pretty well.”

  The smiling faces returned. “Emily, in all these years, you haven't said as much as you did in the last five minutes. But why are you here?”

  “Maybe Linda is right. Are you stupid or something?”

  “Stupid is as stupid does,” Fritz replied in a mock southern accent.

  “Well, then, you are stupid, because you sure are doing stupid. She misses you. She wants to come home, but she never learned how to mend fences. Even as a little girl. And she only listens to Tim. Lord knows I've tried, and Joe tried yesterday to talk some sense into her. She's cried herself to sleep almost every night.” She shook her head. “She's as stupid as you are.”

  With the table laughing, Ash asked, “Emily, do you have a plan?”

  “I'm glad somebody's smart around here. Of course I do. Why else would I be here? Wait. You're Ashley.”

  “I know.”

  “You look different. Linda said you were dead, that you were killed in your portal.”

  “Not my portal. His.”

  “So this is all true?” asked Joe. “It sounded like you were all tripping.”

  Fritz blew out a long breath and looked at the ceiling. “What have you found out?”

  “At dinner last night, Linda mentioned that the ship that blew up in Israel sounded similar to the bombings in San Diego and Newport News. She wondered if you were using the portal. When I asked, she said never mind. Then Dad told me your classroom somehow connects to the White House, and that you were involved with the attack on the summit conference. He said you ate at the White House on Thanksgiving, that you have some kind of magical powers.”

  Ash grinned, “Joe, meet Harry Potter.”

  “Shut up,” Fritz said, but a little of the old Ashley returning elicited a brief grin.

  “So, it's real? You can time travel?”

  “It's a long story.” Fritz continued, telling the portal story again right up to where they were that afternoon. “And now, you have to talk to the president and swear an oath of silence.”

  “Come on, Fritz. I'm not going to say anything. Who'd believe me? I wouldn't.”

  Nat had been taking notes. She said, “Pinch yourself.” He did. “Did you feel it?” He nodded. “The portal is real. And it's dangerous. I've been through it, and sometimes you can see inside. You're standing in New Jersey and looking at somewhere miles away.”

  “Who are you?” asked Emily.

  Nat chuckled. “You don't remember me, I guess. I met you when you and Tim stopped to see Linda when you came back from Paris. I lived down the hall.”

  “In New York? What are you doing here?” Emily asked.

  “I work for the local paper. I moved here a few years ago.”

  “Isn't that nice! You and Linda have stayed in touch.”

  That's my mother-in-law. Fritz listened but said nothing at present.

  “Actually, Emily, we only reconnected last spring. I had a donation to drop off for Fritz's tournament.” She squinted, looking at Fritz. “If I recall, that donation came from James Sapphire.”

  “Jim Sapphire? The investment banker?” Joe asked.

  “Uh-huh. My dad was one of his first clients.”

  “It is a small world, isn't it, Joseph?” said Emily. “Tim and Jim used to do a weekly investment hour on the radio.”

  Fritz asked, “Nat, how did you say Sapphire found out about the tournament.”

  “Honestly Fritz. I'm beginning to wonder about you,” said Emily. “Tim told him.”

  “Linda never said anything to me.”

  “Tim didn't tell her. He doesn't work like that. He just does things. He didn't tell Jim that you were his son-in-law, or that Linda lived here. He just told him to check out a new way of teaching.”

  “And he gets all his good ideas from you, Mom,” said Joe. “Linda told you, didn't she?”

  “Of course she did. She mailed me Sapphire's op-ed. I gave it to Tim.”

  “I hate to harp on it, Emily, but then why does he keep giving me a hard time?”

  “I told you. He's a bully. You're not the only one that gets that treatment.”

  Fritz watched the birds pecking in the grass through the bay window, shaking his head. “I'm at a loss at what to say.”

  “You could call him and thank him. And you could tell him that I just told you.” Fritz admired how, remarkably, slyly, her story had spun a new twist.

  “And is that part of your plan?” Ashley asked.

  “If it works. Otherwise, no.”

  When the laughter died down, Fritz asked, “How long are you planning to stay?”

  She scrunched her face as she calculated. “Maybe a while. He's got Linda cooking for him. I've always liked dining out. But Linda has spoiled my strategy. We've only been out once a week all summer.”

  While the others grinned, Joe scowled. “After all this time, I find out you've been playing him like a fiddle. You could have helped me with him.”

  “Am I the only smart one here? I got you out of the house as soon as I could. He wanted you to work with him. I'd have ended up burying you both. So I convinced you to go to college in California and convinced him you were a great investment. Investments he understands. And he's proud of you, especially with the new job. Before I started the fight with him last night, he had your new company up on the computer, taking notes. I'm sure he's looking at a way to buy some shares or get them some capital, or something.”

  Tony had been quietly laughing through the whole conversation. He said, “Mrs. Miller, you are amazing. You remind me of my mom.”

  She grinned at him. “Yes, you're right. I am amazing. And you can call me Emily.”

  TONY AND NAT WENT shopping for barbecue fixings, while Emily and Joe settled in. Before starting the grill, Fritz called the president. The president's new
secretary, Carolyn Crispin, said she would give the president a message. Fritz told her it was important that he call back. She asked for his phone number. Unaccustomed to the treatment, he said the president knew the number.

  “But I don't, sir. And I'll be the one calling you back,” she snapped.

  “Sorry. We haven't met, but I'm sure we will soon.” He gave her the number. “Please tell him I'll be waiting.”

  “He's a busy man, Mr. Russell. He IS the president of the United States, after all.”

  He hung up, expecting a call back immediately. After a half-hour, as Tony and Nat walked in with the groceries, he called again. “Ms. Crispin, this is Fritz Russell. Sorry to bother you again, but I really need to speak to him.”

  “Mr. Russell, when he tells me, I'll call you.” This time she hung up.

  “Ash, I need to clear Joe. Would you call the veep? I bet she hasn't told him.”

  When the vice president picked up, Ashley explained that Fritz couldn't reach the president, and what he needed.

  “Tell Fritz to be patient, Ashley. I'll tell him you need to speak to him. Ms. Crispin is harder to get through than a river of molasses.”

  Moments later, Tony brought a tray of food to the grill, and Fritz's phone rang.

  “Hi, Mr. President.” A sharp-toned voice stopped him.

  “Mr. Russell, he will call you shortly.” Before he could thank her, she had already ended the call.

  “Shall we eat in the kitchen or dining room, Fritz?” Emily asked.

  “The dining room will have more room, but the kitchen's fine with me. Emily, you pick.”

  “Natalie, will you help please?” Nat mumbled something about women's work, as she headed to the back door.

  “Tony's cooking,” Emily said. “Joe and Ashley, go help, at least until the president calls,” which happened as she completed the sentence.

  “Hi. Sorry to bother you.”

  “Fritz, I just found out. Ms. Crispin is learning the ropes. Sorry. I need to get you a new secure number to call. What's up?” Fritz told him about his visitor, and that Tim had told Joe about the portal. He asked if the president wanted to have the oath-swearing conversation. “Let's keep this serious, Fritz. I've been too lax. Sorry. Put him on.”

  Joe groaned in disbelief when Fritz said the president wanted to talk to him. After his initial greeting, Joe asked Fritz for a pen and wrote a number on his hand.

  “He wants me to call him.” They watched Joe's surprised look when he reached the White House. “They're connecting me.” He held up his hand. “Yes, hello, Mr. President.”

  “I've met the rest of your family, Joe. I'm sure we'll meet eventually. The portal is top secret, and I'm swearing you to keep it that way. You are with people intimately acquainted with it, so you can talk to them. No one else. I must ask where you first learned about it.”

  “At dinner last night, my dad was talking about it with my mother and sister.”

  “Thanks. I may have to remind Tim about the oath. Nice talking to you,” and he hung up.

  Tony walked in the backdoor, a platter piled high. “Let's eat.”

  Joe excused himself, got his travel bag from his car, and went to get a shower. When everyone had left, Fritz and Emily sat in the kitchen.

  “Emily, now that we have a chance, tell me, how's TJ?”

  “He's got a motor on him. And he gets into everything. We've re-baby-proofed the house. Never expected I'd have to do that again. But he's fine, getting the hang of standing. He's chattering, says what sound like words. Typical baby stuff. He's learned how to say 'no' and knows what it means.” She snorted. “Linda's first word was 'no'. She's a pain, Fritz. I love her, but she's got Tim's stubborn streak.”

  “We both have, Emily. But we've always, at least before, found a compromise. Even with the portal, which she hates.”

  “She doesn't care about the portal, Fritz. She's worries that you're being careless, attracting attention to all of you. Especially after Thanksgiving. And that policeman being killed.”

  “I'm a history teacher. I never intended to be a government agent. But it's happened and it's been important to the president. And the country. Linda understood and agreed. I just can't grasp why she left.”

  “Because of Tim and you fighting. Get used to it, buddy boy. He's perfect and she's daddy's little girl. Lethal combination. She's taken his side since childhood. Actually, I'm surprised this didn't happen years ago.”

  “So what do I do now? This doesn't look like a winner to me. Is she going to come home?”

  “You're supposed to be a smart fellow. Figure it out.”

  “Have you?”

  “Of course. I figured it the day she showed up. I've just been waiting for you. Your whole generation wants to do everything with a computer and a cell phone. Well, you can't. I'll let you sleep on it.”

  Chapter 10

  AFTER A SUMMER in an empty house, footsteps were thunder, clanging in the kitchen, a parade. Startled awake, Fritz checked the clock. 6:45.

  Emily stood at the stove, bacon and sausage speeding his wake-up. “Good morning,” she said. As he clutched a cup and poured, he asked her what time she got up. She forked the bacon onto a sheet of paper towel. “Around five-thirty. It's a habit for thirty years. It's my only quiet time, usually. But you and Joe need to get moving. Time's a wasting.”

  “Nothing needs to be done this early, Emily.”

  “Do I have to find things for you to do? TJ will be up about now. You better get used to it. You'll be back at school in a week. Do you have your phone?”

  “It's upstairs.”

  “Go get it. Linda will be making Tim breakfast right about now, before he leaves to play golf. Best time to call him.” When he didn't move, she said, “Go get it!”

  As he passed her, he said. “You're a bully too.” She agreed. The plate of food she had made waited for him when he returned. She said to make the call or his eggs would get cold.

  “I'll eat first.”

  She snatched the plate from in front of him. “Now.”

  Fritz checked his phone list. No Tim Miller. He asked Emily for his number. She shook her head. “Fritz, what if you needed to call? An emergency? Put this in your phone.” She slid the newspaper across the table with a number in ink on the edge.

  “Tim, this is Fritz. What do mean, Fritz who?” Emily waved her hand for him to keep going. “Look, I just found out that you sent a donation for my tournament. I just wanted to thank you.” Fritz listened. “Emily. She's here.” He held the phone out.

  “I don't want to talk to him,” she said, leaning to the mouthpiece and grinning.

  Fritz said, “Sorry, Tim. I guess you heard that.” He held the phone away from his ear. He and Emily could hear him yelling. “Thanks again, Tim. Bye.”

  “That wasn't so hard, was it? Now eat your breakfast. I'm going to wake Joe.”

  He pulled the paper in front of him, glanced at the headlines and turned the pages, looking for news from the Middle East. He'd spent the summer watching news break about the presidential campaign and the development plan's successful beginning, but since Ashley's return, the TV hadn't been on. The previous day in Israel, apparent sabotage had closed the main cargo runway used to bring supplies for the development project. Shutting down the runway and the port at Ashdod would virtually halt construction. The story said that explosives had been planted in holes drilled in the concrete. A spokesman said that no one had questioned the holes. The workers had produced signed papers from the government as well as work orders to test the foundation to determine erosion. The government said the papers were fraudulent. Almost seven hundred feet of runway now consisted of rubble. No injuries were reported.

  Joe wandered into the kitchen. Fritz pointed to the coffee pot and held his cup out. “Did you hear about the airport explosion in Israel?”

  “On the radio on our way here. Why?”

  “A ship blocks the harbor and the cargo runway is blown up. Someone doesn't want
the president's plan to move ahead.” Fritz glanced up and mentioned that his brother-in-law's eyes were the same electric blue as Linda's.

  From behind him, Emily said, “They both get their good looks from me.” Their laughs were cut short by a heavy blow on the back door. Ash stood rubbing his knee.

  “Are you okay?”

  “That smarts. It's where I got shot.” Ashley sucked in hard, his pain exploding on his face. “I banged my knee on the doorjamb. Take this, will ya?” He passed Fritz a warm paper bag.

  “Anyone want a fresh bagel?” asked Fritz.

  “I do,” said Ash. “Toasted.” He limped into the kitchen.

  “Sit down. Ashley, do you want breakfast? Coffee?” asked Emily.

  “Yes and yes. Thank you.” He promptly smacked his knee again on Joe's chair.

  “Ash, stand back. I'll move over. Sit here,” said Joe.

  While the musical chairs played out, Emily brought Ashley his plate. When he stopped groaning and rubbing his knee, he said, “Thanks, Emily. So how goes your plan?”

  “Well, let's just say we've taken a baby step. Fritz spoke to Tim. It will gall him, wreck his golf game this morning. If my calculations are correct, he'll quit at nine holes, call Linda to complain, and call here again.” She looked at the clock. “By nine-thirty, I'll bet.”

  Ashley grinned. “Are you giving odds, or just guessing.”

  “Oh, a gambler, are you? Ten bucks, he calls between 9:30 and 10. You win if he calls after 10. Put your money on the table, mister.”

  Fritz turned to her. “What have you done to Emily Miller? Where is she?”

  “Yeah, Mom, really. Are you okay?”

  “Ahh,” she sighed. “It's the plight of a woman never to be understood. You two are lunkheads.”

  Ash deposited a ten dollar bill in the middle of the table. “So what will you do when he calls, Emily?”

  “Refuse to talk to him, of course.”

  Ashley's smirk covered his face. “You're going to make him come get you.” Emily stared at him as though waiting for him to complete the sentence. He laughed. “You really are manipulative. You're going to make him bring Linda.” A smirk briefly visited her lips.