Chapter Fifteen
Franny kept peering out the door as she paced in the living room like a nervous new father awaiting the birth of his first child. Listening for the crunch of tires on the small pebbles which would announce their arrival at the cottage, she finally saw the car and shuffled off to the kitchen to pour the boiled water over tea leaves. She eagerly prepared a tray with scones, clotted cream, raspberry tarts, and fresh fruit. Laury’s spirit had told her that Elizabeth would be bringing home a young man to stay.
Lauren’s friend and companion for nearly forty years, Franny was as much a part of the cottage as the very walls which held up the roof. Together for decades, the women shared a unique bond, one it seemed not even death could sever. Laury, as Franny called her, spoke to her often and told her the young man was special and to take good care of him. Not that she needed any prodding, she was delighted to have a guest. It would be nice to have someone else to take care of again besides Beastie, Lauren’s small Shih Tzu.
The pain of losing Lauren was still fresh in her breast. Such a hard loss should not have been. Having Elizabeth stay for a spell was comforting, and now, with this young stranger to tend to, she could put the sadness away for a while. Aye, she nodded, the house had been sad for too, too long.
“Sadness always comes without an invitation, and if you let it stay, you will have a houseguest for life. Happiness, on the other hand, must be sought out, nurtured, and welcomed into your heart.” Hadn’t I said that to Laury on many occasions over the passing years? Ahhh, the poor little mite. Such a tragic life, and it coming to such an end, drowning alone, without glory or purpose.
Lauren Champion lived most of her life in the cottage. It was to be her marital home with her beloved Garwin. Lauren was betrothed to her best friend since childhood. Garwin and Lauren grew up on the bluffs on the short rocky road to Cardigan Bay, never living more than a hundred feet apart. Garwin began pleading for Lauren’s hand when they were both about nine or ten years old. He even made a formal declaration of his love and his earnest intentions to her father, Harned. As hard as the patriarch of the family tried, he could not hold his mirth in tight rein. Young Garwin took the laughter in good form but waited another eight years before he asked again. This time Harned Champion gave his blessings most solemnly. They would be married the coming May when Lauren turned eighteen.
Garwin, a fisherman, a son and grandson of fishermen, put his heart and strong back into the sea. Only Lauren was dearer to him than the salt-stained life he loved. At nineteen, he worked as hard as time and weather would allow, and was rewarded with the purchase of his own boat, christened the ‘Lauren Lee.’ As children, Lauren and her brother Karl played in the crumbling cottage set back a bit from the edge of the bluffs on the lee side of Cardigan Cove. Deserted for many years, it was overgrown with wild roses, seagrasses, and brambles. Decades of weather rotted the door until it fell inward, and the roof collapsed in different places. Salt air and mist invaded the rooms and peeled the ancient flowered paper off the walls and buckled the hand-cut wood-planked floors. Time and weather vied for the right to retake the spot on the rock the cottage claimed for nearly a hundred years. Only the massive fireplace in the kitchen stood undaunted by all that would topple its majesty.
As word of their betrothal spread, neighbors, family, and friends of the young couple donated lumber and nails, shale for the roof, and beams for the ceiling. Housewives tatted lace curtains and hand stitched wedding linens. Hens were plucked of every last feather and lovingly transformed into pillows and cushions. The Cottage was reborn.
Then out beyond the lights of the harbor reflected in the murky water of the Bay, beyond the reef in the Irish Sea that sheltered the crab and herrings, beyond the point where the ruins of Cardigan Castle were just a dot on the horizon, the Lauren Lee and Garwin were lost in a squall. The deadly storm consumed five boats and thirteen seasoned men.
Walking the edge of the bluffs for thirty years, the knowledge she could join him whenever she chose eased Lauren’s heart. He was, after all, only a few steps away. She chose instead to live for
his memory. She talked to Garwin daily and visited him as often as she could.
At twilight on windy days, she would walk out to the most prominent peak and stand strong and tall, letting the salt spray take her breath away. Arms straight out from her sides, she called upon her beloved to embrace her, to hold her, to make her his own. The wind blew, and she closed her eyes. Swaying ever so gently she left the rocky crest far below her and floated out over the sea, searching the gray waves that rhythmically crashed down upon themselves leaving foamy bubbles floating on the surface. Her eyes became accustomed to the changing swirls of the salty currents. She could see the black mass of herring ebbing and flowing with the tides. Great leatherback sea turtles with flippers barely moving glided in and out among the kelp far below. And Garwin, yes, she could see him clearly, nestled in the bow of his boat, his head gently rocking with the waves. His arm above his head waved back and forth, back and forth, saluting his love as she hovered above him. Silently he pledged his troth, over and over again. She would blow him a kiss and feel his in return.
When her eyes would open, Lauren would drop her arms to her sides. Tired from her flight, she would soundlessly return to the cottage, their cottage, and fall asleep alone again in her wedding bed.
When told of Lauren’s death, Franny wrapped herself in one of Lauren’s woolen shawls and quietly rocked in one of the big chairs by the fire. “Finally,” she crooned to the wind outside, “they can now consummate their love.
FRANNY SHOOK HER WIZENED old head fussing over Matt on the sofa until Elizabeth chided, “that’s enough, Franny, let him be.”
The small room in which Matt found himself, was overflowing with dried flowers, bowls of seashells, and bundles of sheaves of wheat like grasses. Old floral prints hung on the walls, and the small glass beads on the lampshade danced each time the door opened and closed.
Matt could have one of the small bedrooms on the upper floor, but until the pain in his head subsided, and he could climb the old stairs, the sofa would have to do. The trip from the rehab center was a long and difficult one over the rocky ground, and Matt’s head still reverberated with the pounding it received on the rutted road. He tried not to complain, but Elizabeth noticed his clenched jaws, pallid complexion, and rigid posture and forced herself to drive even slower than the narrow pathways usually dictated. In spite of his obvious discomfort, he eyed his new lodgings with fascination and interest.
Lauren’s home was charmingly old. The cottage they approached had been whitewashed hundreds of times, yet the old weathered building still held its own against whatever time and tide could throw at it. Two stories high, it had two nice bedrooms on the second floor with a spindle railing walkway between them open to the rooms below. The narrow set of stairs which ran down the right-side wall, had thick hand-knotted rugs nailed to each tread. On the first floor, there was a parlor on one side and a small dining nook on the other. A short hallway ran back through the center of the house and emptied into the kitchen which took up the entire back side of the structure. More bundles of dried flowers met Matt’s gaze, dozens of them filled each of the front rooms. Through the doorway into the kitchen, Matt could see an oversized fireplace, standing squarely in the middle of the far wall commanding veneration with its regal presence. Wood rocking chairs stood on both sides of the fireplace; they too were covered by hand-knotted covers and brightly colored cushions.
What appeared to be a small dog, covered by hair, lay curled in a wicker basket by the hearth. The cottage smelled of herbs and spices, fireplace ashes, and the sea. Although it was cluttered, it was about the homiest place Matt could imagine ever being in.
Something in the house filled Matt’s head, and he knew he recognized the scent as soon as the door closed. Flitting through his mind, it would briefly touch an olfactory nerve only to disappear and then alight somewhere else. Without explanation, he knew the
scent from some far away time, but annoyingly, he couldn’t tell if it brought him pleasure or pain.
“I won’t be long,” Elizabeth said over her shoulder as she walked down the front step. “I have a couple of errands to do, but I will be back long before dark.” She needed to run back to town alone and handed Matt over to Franny’s watchful care. Her cell phone was useless out this far, and although she could have used the phone at the cottage since Lauren brought in a line years before, she knew there would be little privacy in such a small space. Her conversation with Ben needed to be candid, and she knew that couldn’t happen within Matt’s hearing. Elizabeth started the car and was just about to turn out onto the dirt lane when Franny hobbled out to her.
“Oh, and it’s sorry I am,” Franny wheezed, nearly breathless, “but yer friend, Ben Madison called for ye before ye returned earlier today. I forgot to tell ye when ye came in, what with getting the young man settled and all.”
“Thanks, Franny, I’ll call him back while I’m in town,” Elizabeth reassured her.
“Aye, see that ye do, he said it was most important he speak to ye today,” she nodded emphatically, her gray curls bouncing with each word.
Elizabeth watched her limp her way back to the cottage, stepping carefully along the pebbled path. What a dear old woman she was. Lauren had loved Franny like a mother, and when Lauren died, Franny grieved quietly and then redirected her attention to the next Champion family member in her charge.
Slowly picking her way along the dirt road, Elizabeth turned her attention to the remark Franny made about Ben calling. She was surprised he had called much earlier than usual. It would be early in the morning for him in America, and it left her wondering what news would be that important. The town was only a few miles away, but the rains of late had changed the hard-packed dirt to a muddy washboard. “No wonder Matt’s head hurt so badly by the time we reached the cottage,” she muttered, riding over these ruts again made her own teeth rattle in her head.
Elizabeth headed to a local hotel so she could use one of the public phone boxes in their lobby to call Ben. She would have more privacy and would be more comfortable there than at a roadside box. Placing the call to Ben took less time than she expected, and within moments, Ben’s assistant, Nichole, was on the line.
“Hello, Mrs. Champion. I’m glad you called; Ben tried to reach you.”
“Good morning Nichole, yes I know and called back as soon as I could. You two are in early today. Is he available now?”
“Yes, he is just finishing up on a call. I’ll tell him you’re on the line.” Within ten seconds, Ben picked up, his voice lacking its usual warmth, and when he spoke to Elizabeth, he was tense and brusque.
“Elizabeth,” he jumped in getting right to the gist of the matter, “Have you heard from the girls in the last few days?”
“No, I haven’t, but that’s not so unusual. We often go several days or even weeks without contact. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t wish to alarm you, but the girls have not reported within the last twenty-four hours. They know the rules. I have two agents on their way to Las Vegas to check out the situation. They were on a fairly simple assignment, so I’m not that concerned, but I did want to check with you. Let you know in case you hear from them before I do.”
Taken off guard, Elizabeth caught her breath and heard herself respond, “I appreciate your candor.” Although the lobby of the hotel was quite warm and cozy, she felt the cold hand of worry wring itself around her body. “What assignment took them to Las Vegas?” she asked, trying to keep her voice from quavering.
“They were searching for the remains of a guy with ties to a project we had in Philadelphia,” Ben answered.
“What kind of ties?”
“Well, let’s just say without going into a lot of detail on the phone, the group we believe is responsible for Lauren’s death has been busy lately, trying to get their hands on some nasty bio-toxic stuff. We think the guy the girls were looking for died holding something in his possession the wrong people could use to make some serious trouble. The department found out where he was and what he had. We aren’t convinced anyone else had that Intel yet ... but with what happened to Lauren last fall ... and now the girls out of touch for longer than usual, I’m erring on the cautious side and sent two of my best guys down there to make sure the Iranian Jihads has nothing to do with them.”
Not overly reassured, Elizabeth searched his voice for sounds of worry, trying to keep the concern out of her own.
“Please,” she voiced low into her mouthpiece. “You’ll let me know as soon as you hear anything, won’t you?” Elizabeth sat in silence for a moment, letting her fear subside and trying to reassure herself that her girls were well trained and bright. They knew how to take care of themselves. They had proved it over and over again for nearly nine years. Rarely did she worry excessively about their welfare, but right now she was anything but sanguine about the matter. Maybe it was something in Ben’s voice this time that triggered her fright, or maybe it was her mother’s instinct. Too many coincidences always felt wrong to her.
“Ben,” she said at last, “I was calling you anyway today on another matter. I have something I need to run past you as well concerning the girls, or rather, Kate in particular.”
“I’m listening,” Ben said, “go on.”
“Several weeks ago, a young man was involved in a motorcycle accident over in Aberystwyth. I took it upon myself to become involved in his care. The only reason I’m doing this is because I think he called me Kate. I know that might not make sense to you, I’m not exactly sure how much sense it makes to me ... but my gut feeling is to help him, and I have. He’s recuperating at the cottage; Franny is with him now. The strange part is I have discovered he came to London looking for me.”
“What?” Ben said, “You knew this guy?”
“No, I never saw him before or heard of him either, but I think he knows Kate.”
“What’s his name?” Ben suspiciously asked.
“Matt Errington.” The hair on the back of Ben’s neck stood up. One half of his mind immediately started trying to untangle the connections the other half of his brain was spinning.
“Let me get this straight; you have Matt Errington at the cottage?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“What does he want with you, and how did he connect you to Kate?” was what Ben asked, but the thought running through his mind was how and why is he in England at this particular point in time, and why is he looking for Elizabeth? If he wasn’t overly concerned about the girls before, he was heading in that direction now.
“I have no idea what he wanted,” Elizabeth responded. “He didn’t find me actually, but I believe he spotted me and mistook me for Kate. From what I learned; I think he came to Ceredigion to find Lauren. Since his accident, whether it is fortunate or not, he has no memory of who he is or why he’s here. The police traced him back to the Royal Arms in London, and we were able to get his name and some minor info about him from them. Matt supposedly came to London to find me for some diabetic study he was doing in the States; he was told I was dead and probably came here looking for Lauren. I have no idea what it all means, but just before his accident he yelled ‘Kate’ in my direction, and I’ve been looking for answers from him ever since.
“I only found out yesterday who he is and where he’s from. I know he is anxious about his identity, but I didn’t want to share any of that with him until I spoke to you and got your opinion. I think from time to time ... he believes he knows me, but since the girls do look like me, I’m sure he is unconsciously remembering Kate.”
Ben sat for a moment and let her story wash over him as he tried to find a fit for the puzzle. “You don’t have any health problems, do you?” he finally asked.
“No, never ... which is what makes this so odd. What did the girls have to do with him? I know they were in Philly last year, were they working with a medical center there?”
“Elizabet
h,” he started, not sure exactly how much he should say. “First of all, I can’t believe you took a stranger back to the cottage with you considering what disturbing things you know go on in the world.” He wanted to assure her the man in her care was indeed, not dangerous, but considering the coincidences, he wasn’t all that confident that was the truth. “I do know him. Yes, we used him as an asset last year in Philly. But Matt was not the target, he was only the informant, although he was unaware of his role.
“Last summer, one of my best agents, Samir Ali Mansoor, was murdered while he was embedded in a cell in Philadelphia. Matt’s name was one of the last things he was able to get out before he died. The only way we could get additional information was to use Kate. We suspected Matt’s employer, and a colleague ... and we had Kate create a relationship to gather information. We suspected there was a buyer for some deadly toxins Matt was working on, but we weren’t sure who the seller was or even if a deal was made. Our contacts in Iran have given us some real cause for alarm. We’ve been chasing leads for years to a group who sends teams into the States, blends them into the landscape, and uses whatever they learn to find ways to attack their enemies. Meaning us. We hadn’t gotten even close to a source ... until we learned of Matt.”
“Not Matt!” Elizabeth exclaimed, ignoring Ben’s disapproving comments. “I don’t see him in that role at all.”
“No, I have not suspected Matt of being involved before this,” Ben answered with a slight hesitation, “but certainly the people close to him, so we used him for intel. Trouble was, he fell in love with Kate ... and although I can’t for the life of me figure out how he found you ... or even about you, it’s quite possible he is looking for her. I aborted the job last October, and we did a clean out on the place, and I have to admit I haven’t given him much thought since then. We thought he moved on with his life. I know he was offered a big position in Washington. It’s more than a bit disconcerting that he is there now with all the alerts on the net, especially with heightened activity in England. Agencies all over the States and Europe are tingling, and so far, nothing has gelled when we try to get a fix on what is going to happen ... or when and where. Reports all over the wire are talking about something called ‘The Breath of God.’ Not at all sure what that is, but the lab Matt worked for has been linked, and we’re pretty sure his co-worker is involved. I don’t usually miss a connection. I’m pretty certain Matt is clean, but I’m not so sure I want him there with you and Franny just in case I’ve read him wrong. It’s pretty strange he shows up in Great Britain when we suspect something is about to blow there.”
Death & Other Lies Page 12