Death & Other Lies

by Carol L. Ochadleus

  “Yes, we have. We don’t know for sure, but it seems they were close to finding the target when something happened. My theory is they got to the last cemetery too late and discovered the Iranian’s already dug up the body and took the Bible with them. The girls probably would have followed and tried to get it back. Which way they went is harder to say. We have no way of knowing where anyone went from there. Our Intel unit picked up some chatter suggesting a package, probably the Bible, was to be on a plane heading to Belize late the day the girls went missing. We have checked our sources from Las Vegas to the island, and no sign of the twins can be found anywhere. If they were following it, they did a bang-up job of staying undercover.”

  “Yes, but what if they weren’t following it? What if something happened to them in the cemetery?”

  “There was no sign of a struggle, no sign of their car, or anything to give us that kind of scenario. We didn’t rule it out. However, nothing has panned out in the area.”

  Elizabeth continued to sit with her head down, trying to control her fears. “I admit I am worried. I keep thinking if they were injured and hauled out into the desert somewhere, out there in the heat, it could be days before we found them and by then it may be too late. They wouldn’t have water or shelter at night,” she shivered as the reality of what her loss would be overcame her. “Ben, please find them quickly.”

  “We’re trying Elizabeth; you know we will do everything possible.”

  Elizabeth stood up; her hands automatically smoothed the front of her jacket; she should leave Ben to do his work. She would head back to the hotel and wait. A fleeting thought struck her. “Ben, you said Matt Errington was in love with Kate, right?”

  “Yes, I think he was, but months ago. But he is over in Wales with you and Franny; he couldn’t have anything to do with the girls being missing.”

  “I know, but remember the time you were at the cottage, after Lauren’s death, how weird you said it felt to you. You said the cottage had an eerie, mystical feel to it. A ‘presence’ you called it.”

  “Where is this going, Elizabeth?” Ben asked, shaking his head at her ramblings.

  “Matt has been having nightmares for the past few nights, I heard him a couple of times mumbling about heat and fear, and he even mentioned he was suffocating once. What if the cottage is having some kind of effect on him as well? Tuning him into the girl’s ... or more precisely, into Kate’s location somehow. Isn’t it worth at least checking?”

  “I don’t hold a lot of stock in the paranormal realm Elizabeth, and I’m not about to go off half-cocked chasing a nightmare, wasting valuable time and resources on a whim. If you were to tell all of this to Matt, for clarification’s sake, how are you going to explain Kate and his relationship? He doesn’t remember his name, his life ... or her. I’m not so sure it’s even a good idea to tell him what has been going on. You will need to have quite a conversation with him, and you don’t know if he will believe any of it or how he will relate it to his nightmares.”

  “I know you have reservations about him Ben, but my instincts tell me he is just as solid as he appears. Learning more about him, I’m convinced his motive for going to Wales was to find me to help him find Kate. He still loves her, and I believe somehow his love transcends space and time and may give us the lead to find her and Lilly. I can’t and won’t wait for a better time to have an enlightening discussion with him if it means we can find the girls sooner. He deserves to know who he is and who Kate is, and there is just a chance he can help.”

  “Alright Elizabeth, you do what you think is best for the girls, and if he can give you something more tangible to go on, we will check it out to the most minute detail. Okay?” Ben would have done anything to give her the reassurance she so desperately sought but chasing leads from a head injury patient was about as good a shot as letting Franny read his tea leaves for him again. The whole idea was stretching faith a bit far, in his opinion.

  “I’ll call him as soon as I get back to the hotel,” Elizabeth promised, “and I’ll let you know exactly what he tells me.”

  “Of course, I promise to check out any substantial leads he may have. But please, try not to give him more information than the situation deserves.” Elizabeth nodded. Ben watched her walk out of his office; her shoulders squared to the world. Always in control, he thought. Elizabeth was a special person, and he would do anything in the world to keep her respect and make her smile again. After his divorce years before, Ben believed his job would be enough to keep him company, but that resolve was truly tested every time he saw Elizabeth.

  MATT WAS MOVING SLOWLY, not so much because of the injured leg, but because he couldn’t feel his feet at all. His body was still reeling from the latest twist of events. His name was Matt Errington, and he was being questioned by Interpol, and he had something to do with a lot of people dying. What a way to get my memory back, he thought as he headed toward the small upstairs room to gather what little possessions he had. He didn’t know if he should take the clothes Elizabeth lent to him or even how long he would be gone. Do I need to pack anything at all? How far is the trip to London? The thought occurred to him he didn’t want to go with the officers, even though his need to find his place in the world was a great incentive. Something was wrong with the whole thing. Maybe it was Franny’s dire prediction or his nightmares, but the little cottage was about the closest thing to a home he knew, and like leaving a sanctuary, the thought alarmed him to his core.

  He wanted to turn around, head back downstairs to tell them he wasn’t up to the trip, but he was stopped short by the black framed mirror over the washstand in his room. A face, his face, stared back at him with a different look than just a few hours ago. It wasn’t the beard growing in thick and curly, or the eyes still bloodshot from lack of sleep the night before. The face was different because it had a name. He had a name. An identity. He belonged somewhere else, and the only way to get the answers he needed to go home was to face the unknown in London.

  “All I need is a jumper, a mackintosh and a taste for warm beer,” he mumbled to himself. Surprised such a strange list of items should flash through his mind, he wondered about it but did not take the time to analyze what it meant. Mental note, find out if I like warm beer.

  Franny’s voice on the phone was clear as a bell in spite of the distance from Elizabeth’s hotel. Franny didn’t like telephones and never would have used one except Lauren insisted on having one in the cottage for their safety, since they were so isolated out on the bluffs. Elizabeth noted immediately Franny sounded tired and asked her if she was well.

  “I am well enough, don’t ye go worrying about me, tis been an eventful day, it has.”

  “Well, you take care of yourself, and I want to hear how things are going there Franny, but before I do, please let me speak to our guest for a few minutes. It’s important.”

  “I would do that thing, but ye cannot,” Franny answered haltingly.

  “Why, is he asleep?”

  “Our guest has left us with two fancy dressed gentlemen from London. They knew his name and where he was from. Told him he must go with them to London to talk to them, to answer many questions. I told him to go ... to remember why he was among us. He must remember.”

  Fear crept into Elizabeth’s voice while it raced through her entire body. “What are you saying, Franny, who did he go with and why? When did this happen?”

  Franny was tired; she wanted to lie down and ease her old rheumy pains. “If ye want to talk to the young man, the gentlemen were taking him to Swansea. They wanted to catch the last flight going to London tonight. I would think ye kin ask him yeself all ye wish to know if ye will make a call there.”

  THE PLANE WOULDN’T leave for another half hour, and Matt found himself anxiously staring out of the window trying to catch a glimpse of the world beyond Swansea. His nerves were badly frazzled, and he could barely sit still as he was forced to sit between the two agents in front of the telly. Standing on the precipice of get
ting his life back was making his head hurt again. If he kept his mind loose and didn’t concentrate on anything, he could head off the pain threatening to bulge out of his eyes. What a great life I’m in for, he briefly decided. When I try to use my head, it explodes like fireworks. The agents told him little and would not or could not divulge the reason to necessitate his trip to London. Somehow Franny knew I needed to go, so here I am. Mental note: Pick up something nice for her and Elizabeth when I finally get wherever it is I’m going since I’m assuming I’m never coming back here again.

  AS SHE ROCKED IN THE old bent chair by the fireplace with the dog on her lap, Franny slowly stirred her tea and watched the leaves swirl around the bottom. “Our young man is beginning the end of his journey, Beastie. I hope he truly has a good heart, but I fear he will not be much help to his young love. And aye, tis a sad affair for the babes, and them being sich nice young lasses too. But, I’m just an old womin, what is it you would have me do? I kinna help them.” Tilting her old head sideways, the frizzled grey hair dusted the rim of her cup. As she watched, the companion chair by her side kept pace with hers, back and forth, pushed by unseen feet upon the worn braided rug at its base. “Ahh,” Franny murmured at length, reassured by some inner resolution, “that is good Laury, let them be heard.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Enid, it’s not in this direction ... I’m telling you, there were more of those scraggly trees around. I don’t know why I let you drag me out here in this heat to search for some old coot’s grave.”

  “Oh, you don’t know everything, Mava, it was nearly twenty years ago, and don’t you think maybe they cut some of the trees down by now? I remember the road running alongside the fence just like it is here. We have been all over the damn cemetery in the last half hour, and I’ll bet you ten dollars this is the spot.”

  “Yeah, you would bet on anything wouldn’t you? That’s what got us in the cheap-ass joint we’re in now, isn’t it? You bet, but you don’t win.”

  “Now Mava you know that’s not my fault. The cards just haven’t been lucky lately. My luck will turn around soon, you wait and see. And besides, if you hadn’t picked up that skuzzy little weasel Barry, we’d have more than enough money to find a better place to stay.”

  “Humph, you didn’t think he was a weasel when he was coming on to you, did you? Just because he chose me instead of you, you’re just jealous he ended up taking me back to the motel that night.”

  “You’re such an idiot Mava, the creep had you from the get-go, you practically threw your body at him, and he didn’t have to work hard. But you didn’t have to let him have all of our money too.”

  “Well, how was I supposed to know he would find my purse under the ... oh geez! Did you hear that?”

  “What? Did I hear what?”

  “That noise, like a whining. Come on, let’s get outta here; this place is giving me the willies.”

  “You’re just changing the subject because you know I’m right and you can’t stand to lose an argument.”

  “I’m not kidding Enid; I heard something.”

  “Well, it’s not a ghost, silly. Everyone knows ghosts don’t go around spooking people in the daytime, and it’s only a little past six o’clock, not exactly haunting time now is it? It’s probably the trees rubbing together. I’m surprised with your bad ears you can hear anything at all, you certainly never hear me.”

  “Shut up Enid; it was your bright idea to come looking up old flames today. You never had much use for your husband when he was alive. Why bother looking for his grave now?”

  “Mava, I told you to get going earlier today, if you weren’t so damn lazy we would have been here before the office closed and looked up the grave number. But no, you needed to have your beauty sleep, hell; you’d have to sleep for a month to get rid of your uglies. And Richard wasn’t such a bad husband, and you know it. He let you stay with us whenever your current boyfriend threw you out. I just had an urge to visit him today, can’t say why, kinda strange the way the idea popped into my head and all, but since we were in town anyway ...”

  “See there it is again.” Mava interrupted her companion, and both women simultaneously looked toward the scrub line of dying trees as the source for the low moaning. With barely a whisper of wind, it was doubtful the sound was emanating from that direction.

  “What the hell was it?”

  “Nothing, it was nothing! Since we’ve already spent so much time looking anyway, let’s just find Richard and get outta here.”

  “Fine,” Mava sputtered, “If it’s so important to you to visit his rotting bones, but I don’t want to spend one extra second in this place, it’s just too damn creepy.”

  Why is Mom fighting with Laverne? They always get along so well. It was a strange argument, and Lilly was surprised to hear her mother swear. She was always such a lady. Probably the heat is getting to them too, she thought. Such terrible heat. Why is it so uncomfortable ... and why doesn’t someone turn on the air conditioning? What time is it anyway? It must be close to dinnertime, my stomach hurts, and Papa is probably home by now. She wondered what terrific dessert Laverne had made for them. Her girls, Laverne always called the twins. This was always funny to Lilly since Laverne was only a young woman herself. When the twins were five, Laverne came to live with their family to help out with the housework and give Elizabeth a break from chasing after two highly charged imps. So, what are they fighting about, Lilly wondered again. Maybe I should go break it up. If Papa heard them, he would be upset not knowing which side to take. Papa! The memory of her dad jerked Lilly from the daze.

  Voices, she heard voices. But they weren’t her mother and Laverne; she wasn’t a young girl at home. She was trapped in a stone room with her sister. And they were dying.

  “Kate! Kate!” she reached as far as her arm would go trying to feel for her sister’s body. “I hear voices outside!” With no response from Kate, Lilly tried to bolster what little strength she had left to reach the crack in the wall far above her head.

  “Help,” she rasped through parched lips and throat. But the words drifted back to her, lifeless. Where are my shoes, I took them off somewhere in the dark, they have wooden heels, maybe I can tap an SOS if I can just find them quickly. The voices were starting to fade. Either the arguers were finished with their debate, or they were moving away.

  Tap, tap, tap, tap. The energy she exerted was about all she had left, but was it enough to get the women’s attention?

  Tap, tap. Her hand dropped from the weight of the effort.

  “Did you hear that, Enid?”

  “What? That tapping? Yeah, probably a woodpecker, I’m sure the trees are full of birds.”

  “Well, maybe, but that didn’t sound like no woodpecker to me.”

  “Oh, shut up Mava, you are always so melodramatic like you’re some expert on what a woodpecker sounds like.”

  “Help, please help us!” Kate roused to the tapping noise her sister made and crawled her way up the wall to add her feeble voice to the plea.

  Mava’s head spun around in the direction of the row of crumbling vaults as shivers went up her spine. “Enid, that was a voice ... and there is nowhere else for it to come from except one of those little brick houses over there.”

  Enid was as white as a ghost herself and was taking small steps backward away from the source. She heard the same sound and could barely find her voice.

  “Mava,” Enid pleaded, shaking from head to toe, “get over here away from it. Whatever it is ... it’s no concern of ours.”

  “What are you talking about you ninny, ghosts don’t cry for help, do they? There is someone in there. We can at least find out what’s going on.” Tentatively Mava crept forward toward the vault and called out in a low, unsteady voice. “Hello, who are you?”

  Kate nearly fainted again, but the surge of adrenalin pushed her face back up to the crack. “Help us, please help us. We’re trapped.”

  Within ten minutes of their call to 911, Mav
a and Enid stood on the sidelines, beaming with the pride of heroics, as two emergency vehicles stood at the ready for the twin’s emergence from their tomb. A fire truck was called to help open the heavy stone door with thick metal bolts holding it closed, and in a matter of minutes, the dying girls were gingerly brought out. Dehydration and the desert heat nearly claimed two victims.

  Right on the heels of the emergency team’s response was a car with Ben’s staff, screeching to a stop in front of the vault. Alerted by the State Department of the search for the girls, the local police immediately informed the field agents that someone had been found.

  Minutes after the rescuers brought the girls out, Elizabeth was notified. When the girls were stabilized they would be flown back to Washington, and Ben would send a car to pick her up and she could start to breathe again.

  AS IF FROM AN ACT IN a faraway play, Franny saw the scene unfold before her closed eyes, and her bobblehead danced up and down slowly. “Aiee” she gleefully clapped her rheumy hands together. “Thank ye my Laury, for settin’ the lassies aright! Ye’re brother will be grateful, he will, for savin’ his babes.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Alright Matt, let’s go over this again, shall we. What is your relationship with Kaleehad Khourmy?”

  Holding his head in his hands, Matt was so tired of the questions. Who the hell is this Khourmy character, and why does Interpol think I know him?

  “I have told you over and over; I don’t know anyone by that name. And even if I do, it is probably still frozen in my head. I barely recognize my own identity, let alone other people.” The agents took Matt to a small room in an Interpol office in the lower end of London. It was dimly lit and rivaled sleazy interrogation rooms he had seen on TV. “I’m not certain about anything yet. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on and maybe I can get a better grasp of things. I’m trying to help you, but all of this is like mud to me.”