Death & Other Lies

by Carol L. Ochadleus

  If this was indeed proof, and he could use it to find her, he reasoned he would have to do it himself. It wasn’t enough for the police to start a search again. The fanciful side of Matt took instant flight. Just like in his make-believe stories for his mother, he could picture himself winging over the ocean, hot on the trail. He’d knock on doors all over England if it meant he could find Kate. But playing detective wasn’t so simple. Matt’s head started to pound, and he ordered himself to get a grip on his emotions.

  He had to deliberately tamp down the growing excitement in his belly as his logical mind refused to be ignored. What the hell am I doing? Am I seriously thinking of running halfway around the world, to track down someone who may not exist? And if she does, I also know she deliberately disappeared with no trail and obviously doesn’t want to be found. Even if he miraculously found her, maybe he should pay more attention to the question of, should he? If she was real and she had chosen to leave, did he have the right to intrude in her life? Torn between his euphoria that she could be real and his doubts about the dilemma it would be if he found her, Matt didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Besides, running out on his career for what could be a ghost chase or worse could take weeks or months of searching. Just to be disappointed in the end, only to find her unwilling to see him, or she may even turn her back on him should he be fortunate enough to find her. God what a mess, he thought again for the thousandth time, lovingly stroking the small book with the precious postcard gently tucked inside.

  In his memories of Kate were bits and pieces of conversations they may or may not have had. Perhaps his knowledge of Kate’s life was severely limited because she was purely his imagination. Or, perhaps, the few things he seemed to remember about her childhood were only carryovers from his own stories for his mother. But somewhere in the elusive web of memories, he was positive Kate had mentioned Great Britain. Was it England or Wales? Unsure, he wracked his brain for any tidbit that could be found. Anything that could give him answers. But the discussion he remembered had been late one night when he was half asleep; she hadn’t given him many details. For all he knew, he dreamt the whole thing, and of course, there was even more possibility the conversation never happened because she was never actually there. At any rate, he needed answers, and he needed them soon, or it would be too late.

  Logic be damned, his mind screamed again. Here in this apartment, in this town was where he found Kate, loved her, and then lost her. How could he just go off to Washington pretending he didn’t? In spite of what others believed, his memories were too real. But on the other hand, he couldn’t just go traipsing off around the world on a whim. He hadn’t flown much before and didn’t enjoy it. He did have a passport, but is it still good? The arguments raged on. His mind was in turmoil and again his twin factions debated for his future.

  What in the hell am I doing? Hours went by, and still, he clutched the book while staring at the walls trying to decipher what was best for his future. What is best for me? But no definite answer could be found.

  He could lose a bright, promising position which brought him real satisfaction. At least he knew his work was real and he could hopefully make a difference, especially when he knew only too well others would like nothing better than to beat him out of a job. Like Phil Forester, for instance. Matt knew Phil wanted the job in Washington and could barely conceal his jealous hostility toward Matt. Matt thought it was just a career move for Phil, as it was to him, but neither he nor anyone else in the department had any way of knowing the other scientist’s agenda was much, much different.

  Chapter Seven

  Phil was several years older than Matt and in a hurry. He knew the importance of convincing management he was dedicated to the cause, but his cause was much more personal. Phil wasn’t looking to save the world with new cures, and if anyone in the department suspected he was less than altruistic, they kept their silence. Phil wanted money. Phil needed money. There were organizations that would help him get it. Phil discovered how lucrative the scientific world could be when he was approached by an individual from the shadier side of life.

  He didn’t care why he was approached. The guy was interested in the work that Marsh, and particularly, what Matt was doing. It didn’t take him long to figure out his job could spin into a lucrative side game. When he was contacted several months before, he was promised a figure that would pay him well just for passing on a few pages of research. Phil secretly borrowed from Matt’s test results, which helped him whet their appetites. The fact that what he was doing was highly illegal, probably treasonous and he was stealing from the U.S. Government, who owned their research, never entered the picture. Minor technicalities were not worth losing any sleep over.

  The job in Washington would put a fortune in his grasp. The Federal lab would give him access to data he couldn’t get in Philly, and there were a lot more potential buyers on the market than the guys from Iran. If one group would pay him dearly, others would probably pay him more. The type of research Marsh did was invaluable and could be offered to the highest bidder. Washington would be a gold mine.

  At the end of the day when their colleagues left, Phil pored over Matt’s work. It wasn’t difficult to gain access in spite of the security systems in place. Phil and Matt worked side by side earlier in the project, so no one looked askance at his presence. He hacked Matt’s computer almost on their first day together anyway, planning even then on borrowing Matt’s work to enhance his career. When he was approached from the outside and asked what was available, he knew instantly he was going to be a rich man.

  The buyers wanted a formula to scare their enemies in the middle-east. Prove to all, who had the hand of Allah on their side. They would pay dearly for a product to make people sick and the powerful antidote to restore their health. Matt was working on both, but going too slowly.

  Months went by, and back in the summer, Phil promised the work was nearly finished and chafed at the fact that if Matt left for Washington before it was completed, he would lose the deal. Even though he unscrupulously copied Matt’s research and boldly made changes to speed the process along, the golden goose was not yet in hand. When Phil learned Matt was chosen for the position in Washington, he marched to Dr. Nowak’s office, slamming the door behind him.

  From the open disgust on his face when he walked out, the whole department was pretty sure he was unsuccessful in his attempt to convince Nowak he should be the one to get the job. Phil was a real pain, and Dr. Nowak wanted Matt to take the job. But if for some reason he turned it down, Phil was there in the wings just in case.

  Matt and Phil hadn’t been close, right from the first day they worked together, and Matt chafed at the idea of giving up a great opportunity. It only made it worse to think Phil would get his spot if he turned it down.

  But, to find out what happened to Kate, and if she even existed at all, he would go anywhere, do anything, including giving up a future that without her seemed bleaker by comparison. Wouldn’t he? Still, every doubt since her disappearance made the decision nearly insufferable. After months of stress and his crippling loss with all its questions, he had serious doubts about his sanity. He knew there needed to be a decision, and soon, but no matter which way it went, it was going to change his life.

  Friday afternoon, Dr. Nowak sent Matt an email, asking him to stop by his office before he left for the day, and Matt knew there was no more time. It was pretty clear the Washington office wanted to know who was going to fill the position and they wanted the name by the following Monday. How could Matt explain Kate at this point and what she had meant to him? Or why it was so important to find her or at least prove she even existed. It was his sanity he was dealing with, after all. That issue, however, is probably not a topic of discussion you want to have with your boss, he mused. There was no room in his career or the company for a lonely nutcase.

  Dr. Nowak was bewildered. He couldn’t understand why the decision was so difficult to make. Matt had earned the promotion, and it would b
e a huge career move. As much as he hated to let Matt go, he could not understand why a young man with Matt’s potential hesitated. He had no way of knowing Matt’s tortured mind was at the breaking point. Matt begged to have the weekend to decide and would give Dr. Nowak his answer on Monday.

  After days of mind-numbing doubts, he had finally decided he would take the job and go to Washington, but he just needed the weekend to let it sink in. In spite of the postcard, he was fairly confident the right choice was to get on with his life and try to forget everything that had happened. It was the only thing he could do anyway. There would always be doubts, but he knew there was only so much his head and his life could bear. Each night as he turned off the lights, the argument raged deep in his heart. Why is it so hard to let go of her? He still wanted to believe she existed. He wanted to believe she had loved him, and although he knew something happened that was weird and unexplainable, he also knew he wasn’t crazy. He just knew it! He also knew if he didn’t let it all go, let her go, it would drive him crazy.

  Friday night was mild, and a dense fog billowed about the roads as Matt headed to a local restaurant for a quick dinner before going home. The night and the earthbound clouds harbored an unexpected surprise. As he got out of his car and approached the blue canvas windbreak by the front door, someone came around the side of the building and headed straight for him. The stranger, a short, rather slight man, was deep in his coat and never slowed his pace as he bumped into Matt and shoved something into his hands. Matt regained his balance and was ready to let a few choice words fly as he turned quickly to confront the stranger. The words froze on his lips, and an involuntary shiver went down his spine as he found himself alone in the mist.

  In a mere fraction of a second, the man vanished, swallowed by the night and was nowhere to be seen. Bewildered and a bit annoyed, Matt started again for the door and remembered the piece of paper in his hands. Turning it over, he discovered it to be an envelope. He stared at the printing, mesmerized. It was addressed to him. Even in the dim light, he was sure it was Kate’s handwriting. His hands shook, and dozens of questions raced through his mind as he fumbled to get the paper inside. Written in what he was sure was Kate’s neat script, were the words, Go to Washington.

  Stunned, first by the stranger, then reeling from the force of instant clarity, he fell backward into the taut canvas fabric. As if by some intervention of a magical, mystical ‘Director of the Universe,’ he instantly knew what he must do. His decision about his future was as clear as if it were blinking like the neon sign above his head.

  February 13th

  IT WASN’T EASY TO PUT a trip together so quickly and to work out the arrangements with Dr. Nowak about the job. Poised as he was to accept the move to Washington and finally move ahead with his life after Kate, he was handed the mysterious envelope, and everything changed.

  Matt hadn’t taken a day off from work during the three years he was with the company. In spite of the urging of his boss and his co-workers to take some time off, relax, live a little, he chose to work and his vacation time had built up to a considerable amount of days. He was entitled to use it whenever he wished, as long as it didn’t jeopardize the department’s schedule. Matt walked into the lab on Monday morning and headed straight down the hall to Dr. Nowak’s office. He saw several heads turn as they watched his progress, but never stopped to even acknowledge their morning waves.

  If the envelope was from Kate, why would she tell him to go to Washington? Maybe she sensed he would forfeit his career to stay and search for her. She seemed to be telling him to go and move on. By the same account, if it were from her, that was proof she existed, and she cared about him. He must follow that lead. Shouldn’t I? If it wasn’t from her, who else would have sent it? Only a handful of colleagues at Marsh knew about the job offer. Why would any of them question his acceptance of the offer or even try to influence his decision?

  Certainly not Phil. Phil would be more inclined to bid him hurry off to old London town if he knew that was a choice, rather than encourage him to grab the plum job. No, it only made sense it was from Kate. Which meant his decision to look for her was the correct one. If she cared enough about him to worry about his future, maybe there was some hope for their relationship after all. It didn’t explain why she left him, but he loved her enough to want to marry her. To be able to put her behind him, he needed an explanation. Meeting her was one of the most important things in his life, but losing her was one of the worst. At least he deserved an answer. He was willing to give her up if that is what she truly wanted, but he needed to hear it from her.

  Dr. Nowak looked up when Matt tapped on the open door. “Hi Matt, come on in. I was going to catch up with you this morning. We need to talk.” Matt had spent the weekend going round and round in his head between the job and Kate, the job and Kate. Somewhere an answer came to him slowly. Maybe if he played it right and with a little luck, he wouldn’t have to surrender the job opportunity and could buy some time to look for Kate. He slowly outlined his proposition to Dr. Nowak. With his approval, Matt could take a few weeks of his built-up vacation, follow whatever leads he could find in London and put off reporting to his new job until he returned. They owed him the time, and there was nothing to lose by asking. He certainly had everything to gain if they agreed.

  There would be no need to explain to Dr. Nowak about Kate or explain to anyone why he wanted time off. His story was simple. He’d been working without stop for years and could use a break to get his move in order, find a new place to live in Washington and spend some time with friends here before he left. The whole office knew he was under a lot of strain. Dr. Nowak sat still, hands clasped behind his head, listening to Matt’s request.

  “Yes, I know how much time you have,” Dr. Nowak said, leaning back in his creaky old leather chair. “However, we do encourage our employees to use it regularly, keeps you guys from burning out. I’m not sure this is a good time to do it, you know. The Washington branch has had some early success with some of their projects, and there’s been a lot of pressure from the government to keep the process moving. They need you there soon. I don’t know how they will feel about a delay of several weeks. You know how funding works, Matt. I don’t have to remind you we are always walking on thin ice.”

  “I know,” Matt said, clasping his hands in front of him, looking like a man pleading for his life. He felt exhausted from the battle he fought all weekend yet more alive than he had in months. Dr. Nowak honestly liked Matt, and although he hated losing him to Washington, he wanted him to take the job, and the thought of Phil getting the nod if Matt turned it down made his stomach hurt.

  “Look, Matt, against my better judgment I will check it out for you.”

  “Thanks, thanks a lot. I owe you one.” A slight smile eased the grim line of his mouth. Matt was optimistic. Since he received the envelope, he just knew it down to his toes; maybe, just maybe, life was going his way for a change.

  It didn’t take long for Dr. Nowak to get an answer. As he guessed, the Washington office wasn’t happy about the delay, but he fudged a little on the dates he could release Matt pending the conclusion of his current assignment. Not wanting to tell them Matt would be using several weeks for vacation, Jeff lied about his projects not being fully complete as of yet and stretched the truth that given a bit more time, the results would prove more valuable. What a waste of money it would be, he told them, if Matt was unable to finish or thoroughly document this exciting project and his results. The guys in Washington agreed to let Matt have one month before he must report to Washington instead of the expected one week.

  Matt was finally free to look for Kate and not jeopardize the satisfying career he worked so hard to achieve. He knew he owed Dr. Nowak a great debt and he heartily promised he would put himself into the remaining week in the lab with great diligence and make sure his entire project was completed. The only thing left was to get a ticket to London. Matt’s headaches had nearly disappeared.

  WA
LKING DOWN THE COLLAPSIBLE skyway off the plane, Matt could hear a din coming from up ahead. It was a long flight, and his legs were stiff from sitting in the cramped space. The tunnel ended in the vast canopy that was London’s Heathrow Airport. The noise was nearly deafening, people were yelling, babies were crying, and voices on loudspeakers made continuous security announcements and warnings. Large screens flashed flight departures and delays.

  He stood off to the side, trying to get his bearings. The line for customs went pretty fast, and he was finally free to move toward London. Where was he supposed to go from here? At least the signs are in English, he assured himself, relieved since he never did have a head for other languages. Amid the crowd, a young man off to Matt’s right held up a sign. Matt turned to see his name on the card. Sergeant York’s cousin holds no family resemblance, he decided immediately. As Sergeant York was rather portly, dark and of shorter stature, this sandy-haired young man was all arms and legs with no meat on his bones.

  Striding in the direction of the sign, Matt held out his hand to the rather cold looking character. Typical English mannerisms; stiff, formal. He couldn’t have been more wrong about Jeremy York.

  Jeremy grabbed the extended hand with both of his and gave Matt a warm smile which split his ruddy face from ear to ear. “You must be Matt, how nice to meet you. Welcome to London.”

  “Yes, thanks, and it’s great to be here.” Matt smiled and tried to hide his surprise. “God, you sure don’t look like your cousin, though. I would never have recognized you without the sign. Your cousin told me you were tall, but geez, what are you? About six-three?”