by Sue Knott
Dana seemed to be repressing a smile, but Adams let out a full-blow guffaw. “No. A friend of yours requested that I represent you.”
“That must be some friend you have there, Ms. Shannon.” Adams seemed to be smirking. It turned out that Dana McKenny was one of the best, most well-respected lawyers in the tri-state area. I think he equated the powerfulness of my attorney with the likeliness of my guilt.
“I think I may have a lot of friends. The trouble is, I don’t know who they are.” I hoped no one noticed that I was fighting back tears. The overwhelming weight of the truth of that last sentence had come crushing down on me. I didn’t know who my friends were. I didn’t know who I could trust. It was an unbearable way to live.
“You have no grounds for holding Ms. Shannon. If you have no further questions, we’ll be on our way.” Dana hadn’t even bothered to sit down.
“Homeland Security would like to interview Ms. Shannon. They’re on their way.”
A look of concern crossed Dana’s face. She leaned down and asked me what was going on. I informed her about the papers and my urgent need to post them to the Internet.
“Tell Homeland Security to meet us in my office in an hour. They can talk to Ms. Shannon there.” With that, she abruptly pulled my chair back and started escorting me out of the office.
Agent Adams blocked our path. “It could be very dangerous out there for you with those papers in your pocket.”
“No one knows I have them.”
“I do.”
“Agent Adams, are you threatening to release information that could put my client in danger?” Her tone was steely.
“I’m just saying that information is never secure. It leaks out. It travels fast. Any number of people could know that Ms. Shannon has those papers on her person. And by her own admission, that could place her in a great deal of danger.”
Dana and Adams stared each other down.
“It’s true. If anyone knew I had these, I could be in a lot of danger. Can I get a police escort?”
“I could arrange that if you give me the papers.”
Dana looked at me with a worried eye. I tried to give her a look that said I knew what I was doing. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll give you the papers. I want four police cars.”
“Deal.”
I handed Adams the papers. He looked genuinely befuddled. “This is what all the shooting was about?”
“Yep.”
Dana grabbed my arm, “Let’s get out of here.” Over her shoulder she shouted back at Adams, “Have those patrol cars down by my limo. Now!”
Dana passed on the first elevator that stopped, but had us hop on the next. It was a very short run out to her limo. And we did sort of run. I wondered how much Dana knew about the whole situation. Fortunately, the patrol cars were magically there as she requested and we were on the move in no time.
Riding in the back of the limo, Dana began a furious series of phone calls. I paid little attention as I was busy uploading new photos from my phone to the Web. I knew several of the first batch had been a little too fuzzy, so I dug the photocopies out of my bra and re-photographed them (actually, it was more like I dug them from the binding I had going over my bra – I was still in my disguise from the plane that morning. Geesh. That plane ride felt like it was weeks ago – and my poor, squished boobs felt like it was months ago.)
Once everything was successfully uploaded, I began to relax a bit. Dana seemed finished with her phone calls so I asked her if she could check up on Jim and the girls. Apparently, they had released Jim a while ago and still had the girls in protective custody. I told her the girls would be in less danger soon as I had just uploaded all the documents.
Chapter 45
It was a fairly short ride to Dana’s office in Manhattan. I filled her in on what I knew and she filled me in on what she knew. She knew a lot more about today’s incident than I did.
Apparently, Brandi had posted Gerry’s notebook for sale on CussedEmOuterwear.com just before I picked her up at the mall. The gunmen were believed to be from a Mid-Eastern terrorist cell. Brandi had run out to them waving the notebook in her hand. One of them grabbed it with no exchange of money. As Brandi ran after the guy who grabbed the notebook (apparently she was stupid as well as greedy and evil), another aimed to fire at her. At that point, one (or more, it still wasn’t clear) of the bystanders shot the guy, so the shots he got off at Brandi were not well aimed.
That started the gunfight between the terrorists and the bystanders (though they weren’t exactly bystanding…they took cover behind cars and mailboxes). All of the bystanders were there and armed because they had read Brandi’s post about the notebook transaction on the Internet. (Stupid me, I had thought everyone in New Jersey was just heavily armed and helpful.)
Brandi was not actually the twins’ mother. She was their foster parent of only a few months. It appeared she was probably going to pull through, but would face months of recovery.
Dana didn’t know who hired her to represent me. And the Homeland Security thing had her worried. She wasn’t sure those guys felt bound by the rule of law. So, she had arranged for me to give a press conference before I was interviewed. She figured they wouldn’t screw with me if I was in the public eye.
The public eye! That was the last place I wanted to be. What the heck was going on with my life? I spend months trying to make myself undetectable to protect myself– and, in like 10 minutes, I was going to be jumping into the public eye to protect myself. Who lived like this?
I tried to squirm out of the press conference, but Dana was adamant. She was really worried for me. She did think we could get away without releasing my real name. She’d bill me as “the Anne Hawn-Imus of the now famous, CussedEmOuterwear.com.”
I was glad I was still in disguise and had a pair of large, dark glasses with me. Dana had arranged to have fresh clothes waiting for me at the office (the ones I had on were covered in blood from my attempts to help after the shooting.) I figured I’d do a southern accent, even though the thought of using a fake accent made me feel like a nutcase. The entire situation was just too ridiculous to believe.
The press conference didn’t go too badly. Perhaps because the press really didn’t know the right questions to ask. Mostly, they just asked me about the shootout that morning and what provoked it. And I was able to get the word out that the contents of the notebook had been posted, helping to secure the safety of everyone concerned. I was amazed at how many reporters showed up. There was someone from every nearby newspaper and all the TV networks. That’s New York City for you.
The Homeland Security guys were pissed that I posted the pages from the Glyphs notebook. But, there wasn’t much they could do about it except for letting me know they were angry. They said they’d be watching me, but I kind of doubted that. Now that the Glyphs were posted, I couldn’t think of any reason why anyone would want to watch me. It was time for me to walk away. I was no longer of any value to anyone as far as the Glyphs were concerned. Or, at least, that’s what I thought.
However, the reporters had other ideas. There was a media frenzy outside Dana’s office waiting for me to emerge. Dana had security move the crowd out of the building. I thought getting past them was going to be tricky, but Dana had it all worked out.
I gave my clothes, wig and sunglasses to Dana’s secretary, whom she escorted out of the office and rushed into a waiting limo, yelling out “no comment” the entire time. After that, the crowd of media broke up. Once a messenger brought me back a bag with my wig and glasses, I left the building, unrecognized in new clothes (with unbound breasts…boy, did that feel good) and my own hair. A limo was supposed to be waiting two blocks down to whisk me to a hotel. (By that time, I’d missed my return flight. And the police wanted me to stick around for a few days.)
Chapter 46
As I got closer to the limo, I recognized Faris standing on the sidewalk next to it. He was grinning ear-to-ear and sort of bouncing back from one foot to another like
a child about to receive a present.
“Faris!”
He practically bounded over to me, not his usual formal self at all. In fact, quite surprisingly, he gave me a big, almost uncomfortably strong, fatherly sort of hug.
“Oh, Miss, I am so happy to see you so well. When I saw you kneeling on the ground, covered in blood, my heart leapt from my body. I thought I would have to throw myself off a bridge to stop my pain.”
I literally had to break his hold on me so I could breathe. “You were at the post office?”
“I arrived as the police were pulling in.”
“How did you know to go there?” I was totally confused.
“Amir told me.” That made sense. Amir had probably logged in and seen Brandi’s posting about the notebook for sale.
“I’m so sorry if I caused you worry, Faris. But, please, promise me you will never throw yourself off a bridge on my account.”
“I promise, Miss.”
Faris didn’t appear to realize that I knew he was following me on the plane. Good. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He had no way of knowing I couldn’t trust anyone in my miserable, solitary existence. An existence that it seemed I might now be able to leave behind. Just a few loose ends to tie up and I could start imagining a normal life again.
At the hotel, Faris insisted on escorting me to my room. He was not going to leave me alone for a second. I was touched by his concern.
The hotel was, of course, quite swanky. Faris told me I was already checked in and pushed the button to the penthouse in the elevator. Typical Amir, I thought, first class all the way.
While the extravagance of the penthouse suite didn’t surprise me, what I found when I opened the door shocked the hell out of me. Standing there, arms outstretched to greet me, was Amir. And, as if that weren’t enough, as I hugged Amir, I saw over his shoulder that Jim was there, too.
I was speechless. And then all the emotions that I’d suppressed all day came welling up at once. I started shaking and crying, unable to get an intelligible word out through my sobs.
Amir and Jim sat me on the couch. Jim put a jacket over my shoulders and Amir brought me a cup of hot tea. There I sat, between the two men I adored, and the thought of that made me sob all the more.
“As long as you’re already upset, you might as well appreciate all three rings in this circus.” Jim picked up the TV remote while Amir passed me a box of tissues. There, plastered on every news channel, were scenes from my day – including huge close-ups of me from my press conference.
Once I gained my composure, I checked my home phone. No messages. It seemed no one had recognized me as the now famous, or perhaps infamous (depending on your point of view), blonde, Southern belle, Anne Hawn-Imus. I programmed my calls to forward to my cell just in case. No one knew I was in New York City. Maybe I could keep it that way.
Then, I got the other bad news. All the media outlets wanted me to appear on their talk shows or be interviewed for publication. And Jim and Amir had come to an agreement that we needed all that free publicity. We still had to get those Glyphs translated and that would require an entirely new audience: the academic and scientific communities.
That sank me into my own personal nightmare. Just the thought of all that public attention focused on me (even as my alter ego) sent my stomach into acrobatics. And how was I going to protect my anonymity with news hounds barking at my heels?
Jim and Amir tried to cheer me up. They had apparently gotten together quite some time before I arrived and had really hit it off. They were joking around trying to make light of the situation as best they could. Jim was better at the sarcasm. I think perhaps in Amir’s world sarcasm may have been meant to bite more than delight. He tread lightly on this assumedly new territory.
Room service brought a fabulous dinner, but I could barely eat (and you know things are bad when I can’t eat). I found out that Dana had assurances that neither the police nor the FBI would be releasing my real name to the public. They decided that I was technically a witness in need of protection. (Wanting to keep me all to themselves as a future source of information was likelier closer to the truth.) That was good news. Plus, Jim was heading back to Buffalo the following evening so he could check me out of the hotel and pick up Ozone from the kennel.
Amir had to fly out soon. Apparently he was already in NYC and about to leave for Chicago when Faris called to say he’d lost track of me. Cala searched all credit card transactions, airline manifests, any and all avenues available through Amir’s vast holdings. When she found I was flying to NYC, Amir delayed his departure, figuring something huge was occurring based on my subterfuge. Now that he knew I was safe, he had to get to Chicago ASAP. I walked him to the door.
“It was so good to find you in one piece, Rachel. This afternoon, with the possibility you may have been shot…those were the longest minutes of my life.”
“I’m sorry for putting you through all this.”
“No. I am sorry for leaving you to carry the burden alone. I shall never forgive myself for being so selfish.”
I didn’t believe Amir was selfish in the least, but I was too emotionally exhausted to argue. “Goodnight, Amir. Thank you for the attorney, the room, for having Farris watch over me…for everything.”
“There is a separate security suite in the anteroom. Farris will be there if you need him.”
“Thank you.”
“Your friend, Jim, is a good man. I like him very much.” Amir brushed my hair from my cheek. His hand lingered for a split second on my face. “I have missed you.”
“Same here.”
He turned and left.
Chapter 47
“Amir is quite the guy.” Jim stood as I returned from the door.
“Funny, he said the same about you.”
“I suppose I really should be going. I’ve got an early seminar. And you look exhausted.”
I was exhausted. And confused. And somewhere in the back of my head I was wondering when Jim planned on joining the Peace Corps and how long he’d be gone. I was in no shape to deal with all the conflicting emotions wreaking havoc on my body at the moment.
I walked Jim to the door. “Good night. And thank you. I’m so sorry I dragged you into all this.”
“I’m just glad I was there.”
“Me, too. And that’s an understatement.”
Jim gave me a long, long hug. Then he bent his head and gave me the sweetest, gentlest, most tender little kiss. Our first kiss. And he left.
I took a long shower, gulped a couple aspirins and went to bed.
Chapter 48
I didn’t sleep well. The reality of how incredibly stupid I had been sunk in while I tossed and turned all night. I was lucky to be alive. I was lucky no innocent people got killed. But, that’s where my luck ended. Three people had been shot because of a situation I created.
Sometimes, after a difficult day, I’d wake up in the morning able to shake things off and start anew with a positive attitude. This wasn’t one of those times. I didn’t want to get up and face the world. However, I saw that the message light on my phone was blinking. (I didn’t know how I could have slept through a ringing phone…could Amir have asked the desk to hold my calls?)
The message was from my attorney. Dana had a list of media looking for interviews and wanted to know if she could go ahead and schedule them for me. And she said the twins wanted to talk to me.
I immediately contacted the twins. We spoke for a long time. It turns out that the girls were not happy to be Brandi’s foster kids. With Brandi in the hospital, they needed a new foster home and were hoping I’d be it. Plus, Gerry had been fretting over how I had called one of the Glyphs “wavy skis.” She knew what I was referring to, but couldn’t understand why I didn’t call it what it was: a river. Apparently there were some Glyphs she recognized as standing for something specific: river, ocean, sun, etc.
I didn’t think I had the qualifications to be a foster parent, but the girls told me horr
or stories. Apparently there weren’t enough decent foster families around so social services seemed to accept just about anyone. Mostly, the families the girls ended up with were people looking for the cash the foster system paid – and some free labor from the kids. They felt Brandi was just interested in the money, but she was one of the better homes they’d had: They were together and weren’t being abused.
Their story of being split up and shuffled around to abusive and unloving homes was heartbreaking. I couldn’t bear being responsible for the girls getting placed in an even worse situation. Plus, I wasn’t entirely sure they were completely safe. There might be some nutcase group out there who’d think Gerry had some kind of additional insight into the Glyphs. (Obviously, based on her comment about the river, she might.)
I called Dana and got her started on whatever I had to do to foster the twins. She assured me that I could bring them back to Buffalo with me. (I was thinking it would probably be best for them to finish out the school year in New Jersey. I’d have to figure that one out.)
Dana also told me I had two talk show appearances scheduled the next day. I went out to get a few things to wear. I had t-shirts printed up with the web address splashed across the chest in big type. (Such irony! I hated people staring at my big chest. I was going to be binding it down to a reasonable size, but I still needed to draw attention to it. Life isn’t fair.)
I’d wear the t-shirts on the talk shows to help get more people visiting our website. The mission had changed now. I needed to get the general public aware of the Glyphs and seriously interested in decoding them. Once the Glyphs were decoded, my job would be done and I could try to live a normal life again. (Or at least as normal as a 24-year-old single woman with two teenage foster kids could aspire to.)
Chapter 49
The talk shows were a mixed bag. Some were tolerable, some painful. It was really, really hard to try to word things carefully so quotes couldn’t be lifted out of context.