Climatized

by Sally Fernandez

  “Agreed.”

  Chapter 30

  FULL DISCLOSURE

  “Daniel—Daniel—No—Come back!”

  “Max! Honey, wake up! You’re having a bad dream.” Noble reached over and pulled her into his arms.

  “What’s the matter?” She had no clue as to why he had awakened her.

  “You were calling out in your sleep. Before that you were thrashing me in the head.”

  With still no idea what he was talking about, she grappled for any excuse. “My last few days have been rather traumatic. I guess I’m suffering the ill effects.”

  Surprised by her strange behavior, Noble hesitated before asking, “Who’s Daniel?”

  “What?” Max bolted upright. “You were shouting his name.”

  “It’s nothing. Let’s go back to sleep.” Max rolled over with her back facing him.

  “Max.”

  “Noble, let it go.” Her voice was muffled as she talked into the pillow.

  When he reached over to pull her close to him, he could feel her body trembling.

  She pulled away again. “I said let it go!”

  Instinctively, he feared whatever it was could not be pushed aside. He tried again to pull her into his arms. That time she did not resist. Slowly, she began to relax.

  “Darling, we both understand that there will be times when we won’t be able to talk about a case. But I don’t think what’s going on with you has anything to do with Spark’s death or finding Antonio. And when it comes to our personal life, we promised to be open and honest with each other.”

  “Please, Noble—it’s late,” she replied wanly, but she remained tucked in his arms as her mind began to wander. He’s so wrong. It has everything to do with this case. But this is not the time to unlock the memory box. She was driving herself into an unwonted territory. She tried to put her mind in neutral, but the thoughts kept flowing. Can he handle it? Can I live through it again? Maybe it’s just the tenacious jet lag screwing around with my head. Enough! Without warning, Max shot up from her pillow and sat upright. “Any wine left in the bottle?”

  Given the late hour, Noble thought it an odd question, but then again, she was acting oddly. He inched his way out of bed and walked over to check. “Some.”

  “Pour us each a glass, please. We’re both gonna need it.”

  He obliged, albeit with a tad of self-admitted trepidation.

  Max had already leaned herself up against her pillow and sat in a comfortable position. Then, out of the blue, she had another flashback. She was sitting on a couch in front of a shrink as part of the prerequisite to be certified as an agent. And when she was asked to bare her soul, she managed to keep her past sealed. Now, with her right knee pulled into her chest, and her encased leg lying helplessly prone, she was about to default on a solemn promise. She let out a lengthy exhalation and muttered, “Here we go.”

  Noble thought he heard her say something but missed her comment as he handed her one of the two partially filled wine glasses. But it did not really matter because at that point he was beyond curious and had only one question he wanted answered. He sat down in the chair next to the bed and asked, “Okay, Max, what’s going on with you?”

  “You’re wrong about this case.”

  “Why! What’s so special about this case? You’ve had worse.”

  “This case opened a floodgate of memories, memories I swore I’d never revisit.”

  “Honey, you’re not making any sense. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I am telling you. I’m telling you something that I’ve been forbidden to speak about. Something you can never mention—to anyone—including me—ever again.”

  “Well, repressing whatever it is hasn’t seemed to have worked. Maybe it’s time to open up to someone you can trust. Like me, for example.”

  “At least you have top security clearance.”

  “Thanks a lot, Max.”

  “And—you’re the only one I love enough to trust with this information.”

  Noble reached over and squeezed her hand. Then he pulled back and allowed her to continue in her own way, uninterrupted.

  At first she hesitated. But after a few sips of wine, she started off with a disturbing question. “Do you remember the name Admiral Orris Irving?”

  Noble concentrated. The name sounded terribly familiar. “Aha, of course! As I recall, he was a decorated war hero. Tragically, he killed his only daughter and three sons, and then he killed himself. I believe his actions were blamed on post-traumatic stress disorder attributed to his time in Vietnam. It was a horrible event. Wasn’t it grotesquely referred to as the Thanksgiving Day Carnage?”

  “No. It was the Christmas Eve Carnage.”

  “That happened a long time ago. Why the interest?”

  “Actually it was in 1983. At that time, the admiral was in Naval Intelligence assigned to the National Maritime Intelligence Center in Suitland, Maryland. Before that he was stationed at the base in Naples, Italy, during which time his wife developed breast cancer. He wanted to return stateside and requested a transfer to the Jacksonville Naval base. It was granted.”

  Noble took note of the expression on her face. It was disturbingly void of emotion, but he let her continue.

  “The admiral had already prearranged for his wife to undergo treatment at the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville, hence the request. Unfortunately, the cancer had progressed to stage four, and she died a few months later. Shortly after, he transferred to the National Maritime Intelligence Center and moved his family into a home in Falls Church, Virginia. That’s where the admiral died.” She paused before moving on with her story. “It was on Christmas Eve. He was in his living room with his oldest son Daniel.”

  Noble caught the reference but remained silent.

  “His other two sons, Charles and Robert, were visiting friends nearby. His daughter Claudia was upstairs reading until suddenly she overheard an argument—and then a gunshot. When she ran downstairs, her brother Daniel was gone and her father was dead. He had been shot in the head once. Claudia saw her father sprawled out on the sofa with his right arm hanging toward the floor. A gun lay at his fingertips.”

  Noble listened to Max describe the horrible events in gruesome detail as she maintained eye contact with the wine glass in her hand. Her body language was strangely unaffected. And although her behavior concerned him, he said nothing.

  “Claudia panicked. The only thing she could think of to do was to call her other two brothers and tell them to come home. But before her brothers arrived, two men appeared at the front door.”

  Noble could not hold back any longer. “Max, I’m really confused as to why you’re telling me all this.”

  “Please.” Max held up her hand to ward off any questions as she took another sip of wine. Then, in the same vein, she continued. “One man was short and stocky, but the other man was tall with a ruddy complexion. They told Claudia that they were from Naval Intelligence, but she refused to say anything until her brothers arrived. They agreed. As they waited, she remained seated in the corner, staring at her father’s body. No one spoke a word. For Claudia, the time seemed eternal until her brothers returned home. At first there were wails and then shouting and then shock set in. Finally, when the men were able to calm them down, they moved everyone into the dining room and that’s when their lives changed forever.”

  As difficult as it was, Noble had remained seated quietly as he listened to Max. But the dispassion in her voice suddenly frightened him. The urge became too strong. “Honey, how do you know all this?”

  For the first time Max looked at him directly. “The admiral was my father.” The quiver in her voice was apparent.

  Noble’s jaw dropped in shock, and more confusion set in. “Max, the admiral had only one daughter.” Immediately it struck him. “Oh my God, you’re Claudia!”

  “Don’t ever mention that name again! She’s dead! She died that night!” Max took a deep breath, reeling in her composure, until she was ready
to continue.

  Noble respectfully gave her whatever time she needed.

  “I told the tall guy, Redface, that I heard my father and Daniel arguing, but there was also another voice I didn’t recognize. Then, after I heard the gunshot, I heard the front door slam. Then, I heard the door slam shut again. I insisted there was no way my father would kill himself. They seemed to ignore what I said as though they had already sized up what had happened. Charles asked them why they came to the house. Robert kept asking about Daniel. They refused to answer any of our questions. All Redface would tell us is that our father’s murder was the upshot of a case he was working on and that now our lives were in mortal danger. Redface went on to tell us this wild plan of how they would help us to disappear to protect our lives.”

  “You mean new identities?”

  “Yes. Redface said we would be given new names, replete with a past history, and money to start a fresh life in an undisclosed location. He spent hours trying to convince us. Ultimately my brothers folded and agreed to the terms. They strongly believed it was their only real choice. As Navy brats we had no roots planted. Furthermore, both our mother and father were dead, and we were unaware of any living relatives. For my brothers the decision was easy. They were older and already on their own. However, I was problematic, being eleven years old. But in the end, Redface convinced my brothers that it was in my best interest to be placed in a boarding school until I came of age. The deal also included a college trust fund. I virtually had been stripped of any choice and had no way of fighting the inevitable for the moment. But I’m my father’s daughter. There would be another time and place and I was willing to wait. First, I pledged to find the means and the tools necessary to learn what happened. It became my obsession. Eventually, I would set the record straight.”

  “Honey, you were amazingly doughty for your age.”

  “I wasn’t brave. I was just determined to get to the truth in my own way.” Max let out a deep breath as she felt a peculiar sense of relief. “So there you have it—twenty-four hours after my father was executed—I became Maxine Ford.”

  Noble was speechless.

  Max appeared nonplussed as she leaned back and sipped her wine. She waited for Noble’s inevitable series of questions. Oddly, he remained mute.

  However, Max was eager to get the inquisition over and unwilling to wait any longer. “Ask whatever questions you have now. After tonight we will never speak about this again.”

  Noble detected that she had more to say before putting it officially behind her. So at her behest he treaded lightly. “What you’re saying is the story about the family massacre was a complete fabrication?”

  “Yes.”

  For the first time since detailing her tragic story, Noble noticed tears welling up in her eyes. He felt her pain and was torn between consoling her or backing off. Unable to resist, he reached over and caressed her hand. “It’s okay to cry. You need to let it out.”

  “Been there, done that,” she reproached. Max pulled her hand away and began to elaborate, remarkably with full composure. “They took us away to a safe house. It wasn’t until much later that we read the false report in the newspaper, claiming all of us had been killed at the hands of our father. Not surprisingly, we were furious, but there was nothing we could do. According to the report, ambulances and police cars arrived late at night. The neighbors witnessed body bags being removed from the scene. There were five in total.”

  Noble noted the number of body bags. “You never mentioned what happened to Daniel?”

  “I never heard from him again. None of us have.”

  “Did you ever think he had something to do with your father’s death?”

  “My brothers were convinced he was involved. I didn’t believe it was possible. Someone else had to have been responsible. I was determined to find out who.”

  Noble suddenly got this strange sense that the dots were about to connect. “Don’t tell me that’s why you joined the CIA?”

  Noble saw the hint of smile reflecting from her face serving up his answer.

  “After I applied to the academy, an unexpected visitor arrived. It was Redface. I hadn’t seen him for years, and although he was thicker around the waist and the hairline had receded, his face was still as ruddy. The one thing I’ll never forget was his fear-provoking expression. Standing uncomfortably close, he whispered, ‘Using the CIA as a way to find the answers is a very bad idea.’ Then he turned and walked away. But it was clearly a warning and made me only more determined. For years he would periodically reappear on the scene. He must have thought his presence alone was enough to deter me from learning what happened to my father and exposing the truth. But even though I met stone walls everywhere I turned, I simply couldn’t cope with the notion that we never existed, and that my father’s reputation was disgraced.”

  “Did you ever get to the truth?”

  Max paused before admitting, “No. And after decades of pursuit, I capitulated and ended my search. Mysteriously, when I stopped looking, Redface stopped showing up.”

  “You think he was putting up the stone walls?”

  “I’m sure of it. I even tried to source out information on him, but he’s as much of an enigma as my father.”

  “What about your other brothers? Do you still keep in contact?”

  “We did in the beginning. But they wanted me to give up looking for Daniel and for the truth—I couldn’t let it go. So we argued about it for years until we stopped talking altogether. Silence has prevailed ever since. Ironically, my brothers were correct. It was a waste of my life, with no hope in sight. But at least my job at the CIA allowed me to keep tabs on Charles and Robert. It gave me satisfaction knowing that they had created positive lives for themselves and were able to put the entire tragedy behind them. Until now, I thought I had as well—but apparently there are still unhealed wounds.”

  “When you saw Spark’s body lying on the bench in the park, you recalled your father’s death scene? That’s why this case is so important to you?”

  “I empathize with Isabelle, having had to suffer a similar experience. That’s why she has the right to know the truth. That’s why she has to know that her husband didn’t commit suicide. At least she’ll have closure.”

  “My love, it explains a lot, and not only about this case, but it clarifies why you are so difficult to read at times.”

  “Don’t plan on renewing your library card.”

  “I’m happy to see your sense of humor is back, but I’m still worried about you. You seem so detached.”

  “I am detached from the horror that befell me. That’s not me anymore.”

  “Are you sure you’re really up for tomorrow?”

  “Noble, I’m fine. I’m really glad that you know everything—so now we never have to speak about it again.” Max shook her head and announced, “I’ve already put it behind me.”

  Noble was not so sure, but certainly understood there would be no further discussions on the matter. Resigned to the fact, he relented. “Okay. Are you ready to get some sleep?”

  Without answering, Max set down her wine glass on the night stand, eased herself back into a reclining position, and closed her eyes.

  But Noble lingered in the chair a while longer. As he watched her doze off, he wondered whether she had, in fact, let go of her past. Then other thoughts began racing through his mind. Within the past hour, I discovered an unbelievable story about the woman I thought I understood so well. His heart ached for what she had endured, yet it also swelled with admiration for the unbeatable odds she had overcome. He had fallen in love with an amazingly strong woman who punched above her weight. And while he understood why she had to move on, it was now an indelible part of his life that would not be easy to forget. How can you know something so significant about the person you love and not discuss it? It’s a question I’ll have to wrestle with. At once, in a moment of razor-sharp clarity, the answer came to him—you don’t. After a few more moments of reflection, b
oth the physical and emotional drain of the evening began to take hold. Noble assumed Max must have felt the same. Quietly he crawled back into bed and cuddled up next to her and drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 31

  THE MORNING AFTER

  Max managed to reach dreamland in Noble’s arms, snoozing restfully throughout the remainder of the night. Finally, she awakened and rolled over. Managing to open one eye, she saw Noble fully dressed sitting in the chair reading his xPhad.

  “Hey, sleepyhead, welcome to the world.”

  “What time is it?” She was still crawling out of her somnolent world as she stretched and yawned.

  “Eleven thirty.”

  “Why did you let me sleep so late?” she scolded. At that moment the phone rang. Max shot up into an upright position. “No talking,” she cautioned as she reached for the handset.

  “Ciao bella,” Antonio purred in an alluring tone.

  “What a pleasant surprise!” Max listened to him wax on about how lovely their lunch was, and how he did not think it was possible to wait an entire day before spending more time with her. She cupped her hand over her phone and whispered, “It’s Antonio.”

  Noble began to roll his hand, gesturing for her to move the conversation along. At the same time, he thought about how amazingly resilient she was, appearing as though the previous night had never happened.

  Seconds later, Max silently mouthed the word lunch and Noble nodded in agreement.

  “Antonio, that would be wonderful. Can you give me an hour?”

  Noble flagged his hand and mimed the word where.

  “Antonio, are we going to the same charming restaurant you mentioned yesterday?” She listened to his response. “Ah, yes, Lo Sfizio di Bianchi. Great; see you shortly.” She hung up the phone.

  “What’s happening?”

  “Apparently he wants to have lunch with me! He’s going to call a taxi to take us to the restaurant. I’m to meet him in the living room at twelve-thirty”

  “Then I’ll show up at one-thirty. Make sure that you get a table with some privacy.”