"We can call her," Bradworth said.
"No." She shook her head. "It's my job." She started down the pier. Horrible job. Horrible night. "I'm going back to the inn."
"You can barely walk," Bradworth said impatiently. "You'll be lucky if you don't collapse before you get there. Go with her, Freiland. Stay with her. She's your assignment from now on."
"Right." Ted Freiland caught up with her and put his hand beneath her elbow. "We'll take good care of you, Ms. Bryson. It's going to be okay."
She gazed at him in disbelief. How could it be okay? How could anything be right or normal again? Conner was dead.
"Ms. Bryson."
She looked over her shoulder at Bradworth.
"We need to keep this investigation confidential if we're to find the man who killed your brother. No statements to the press."
"It's all wrong. It shouldn't have happened." Don't cry. Don't break down. Wait until you've done your duty and talked to Cathy. Then you can let go. She swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat. "Damn you, I don't promise anything. It's all wrong, and you know more than you're telling me."
"We'll talk later," Bradworth said. "Go call your sister-in-law."
"You bet we'll talk later. What am I going to tell her? Not enough. Not nearly enough. I need to know why my brother died and who killed him, Bradworth."
"That's what we all want."
We've got a big enough mess to cover up without her dying on us.
His first words she had heard when she had regained consciousness came back to her.
Cover-up.
"Is it?" She didn't wait for an answer as she walked away from him. She didn't know what was going on, but she couldn't sift through it right now. She was hurting too much.
"Here." Freiland was putting his jacket around her shoulders. "You're shaking with cold from that dip you took in the ocean. We need to get you warm and dry."
The chill didn't come from being in the sea, she wanted to tell him. It was bone deep, soul deep, and she felt as if she'd never be warm again. But Freiland seemed to be trying to be kind. "Thank you." She drew the jacket closer. "Who pulled me out of the water?"
"I don't know. This pier was crawling with agents by the time I arrived from my post near the lighthouse. It was probably one of them. You were lying on the pier with Bradworth standing over you when I got here. Maybe it was him."
"No." Bradworth had shown no signs of being in the water, and she vaguely remembered someone had been in the sea with her.
"Then you'll have to ask Bradworth."
"I will." But not now. Not until she could blunder through this haze of pain to think clearly. "You say there were other agents on the pier? I only saw Bradworth and one other man. And I didn't see anyone but you on the sub."
"Jenkins and Bobeck were down in the officers' quarters. I had orders to stay with the body." He saw her flinch, and said quickly, "I mean, your brother. I didn't mean to be insensitive."
"I know." Yet, he was right. That wasn't her brother lying in that control room. It was a bloody, broken body with all the spirit and lovable humor and character that had made Conner what he was torn away.
Shit. Hold on. She was shattering, falling apart, and she couldn't do that yet.
Freiland handed her a handkerchief. "Can you make it?"
It was only then that she realized tears were running down her cheeks. She nodded jerkily as she wiped her eyes. "I'll make it." But that memory of Conner had splintered what little self-control she still had, and she felt as if she were bleeding inside. She didn't know how long she'd be able to keep from breaking down. Her pace quickened. "Come on, I have to get to the inn and call Cathy right away."
Cathy arrived at the inn seven hours later.
She entered Hannah's room without knocking. She was small and thin, but no one usually noticed her lack of stature because of her boundless vitality. Today, she looked very fragile. She was haggard, her short, brown hair clinging limply around her pale face, her dark eyes red from weeping. "He's dead. I didn't believe you. But he's really dead."
Hannah got up from her chair and came toward her. "Cathy…"
Cathy shook her head and stepped back before Hannah could take her in her arms. "No, don't touch me yet. I can't break down again. I have to ask you some questions first."
"It's no use. I don't have any answers yet."
"Don't tell me that. I just saw what used to be my husband in that morgue downtown. I have to have answers."
"Oh, Christ, I told you not to go to see him."
"And I told you, I didn't believe you. I called Bradworth and asked him to meet me at the morgue. I had to see Conner for myself." She drew a deep shaky breath. "I couldn't make any sense of it."
"Neither can I."
"But you must know something. This couldn't have just happened out of the blue." Cathy's voice vibrated with intensity. "Why? "
"I'll find out. I promise you." Hannah's voice broke. "Don't you think I'm asking myself the same questions? Cathy, I'd never have brought Conner on board any job that would have endangered him. I loved him."
The tears were suddenly flowing down Cathy's cheeks. "Oh, shit. I know you did." She went into Hannah's arms, and whispered, "I couldn't tell the kids. How could I? When I couldn't believe it myself. What was I to say? Your daddy got his head blown off and won't be home anymore? He won't be there to watch your next game or be proud when you go to your first prom or see you grow up or-" She broke off, sobbing. "I don't know how to tell them. I don't know how to make sense out of something that's-"
"We'll figure it out." Hannah's arms tightened around her. "Are they with your mother?"
"Yes, but I'll have to go back and make arrangements for the memorial service. Conner wanted to be cremated, you know."
"Yes." She hesitated. "But they may not release the body if there's an investigation."
"Bradworth said there wouldn't be a problem," Cathy said dully. "He said they had all the evidence they needed. They'll autopsy and check for DNA. It's not as if they're going to have to determine the cause of death." She shuddered. "He said if we wouldn't make any statements to the media, he'd try to keep them in the dark about this monstrosity until later. He even offered to make the arrangements with the crematory."
She stiffened. "Did you agree?"
"Why not? I wanted it over." She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. "I don't want my kids bothered by reporters, and I didn't want Conner to stay in that… place. He hated funeral homes. He wanted his ashes thrown out to sea."
"It's just a surprise that Bradworth would approach you about arrangements at a moment like that."
"He only asked me what I intended to do about-Oh, I don't know. Maybe it was weird. But he's giving me what I want, and that's all that's-I can't talk any more about it, Hannah. Not now."
Hannah didn't want to dwell on those arrangements either. She'd thought she'd gotten control of her emotions in those seven hours of tears and heartache when she'd been waiting for Cathy. But the practicalities were too harsh and made the wounds sting anew. "Then let's not talk at all. Do you want to take a nap? I'll call your mother."
She shook her head. "I can't-" She moistened her lips. "The questions have to be answered, but I can't think any more about them now. I have to get that memory of Conner lying on that slab out of my mind. I don't want to ever remember him like that. I… want to talk about him. Not his death. Not what they did to him. Can we do that, Hannah?"
Hannah nodded and wiped her own eyes. "I'd like that, too." She pushed Cathy down on the bed and pulled a blanket up around her. Then she curled up in the chair beside the bed. "You're right, we have to remember who he was, the difference he made to our lives."
"You start. I can't seem to stop crying."
Neither could Hannah. "What do you want to-Shall I tell you about Conner when we were children together?"
"Whatever you like."
No, those golden childhood memories would be too poignant for Hannah,
and Cathy would not be able to relate to them. Start with something current.
"Do you know what he said when I wanted to take that gray sweater away from him? He said, no way. That it brought back memories and warmed his heart. And then he smiled, and that smile warmed my heart…"
FIVE
"He's gone." Cathy gazed into the sea, where she'd poured the ashes. "So quick. I've been dreading this moment, but now I want it back." She turned toward her sister-in-law but Hannah wasn't sure Cathy really saw her. "Isn't that strange?"
"Are you okay?"
Cathy shook her head. "I don't know if I'll ever be okay again." Her voice held a note of wonder. "How can I live without him?"
"Ronnie. Donna."
Cathy nodded, her gaze going to her mother, who was standing with the children across the deck. "I know. They need me. I should be with them now. I want them to remember me holding them when they think back on this. The ship's already heading back to the dock."
"Are you going back to Boston right away?"
She nodded. "My mother has her SUV parked at the dock, and we'll leave as soon as we get off the boat. The sooner I get the kids back to a normal schedule, the healthier for them." She looked down into the water again for a long moment. "It's not really good-bye, Conner," she whispered. "You'll be with me every day of my life. You know that." She straightened her shoulders and turned to look at Hannah again. "I'm being selfish. It's been all about me. You're hurting too."
"Oh, yes. Big-time." She tried to smile. "But you're entitled."
"I'm entitled to something else, too. You promised me answers. I want those answers. And I also want the man who killed my husband to burn in hell." She stared Hannah directly in the eye. "Keep your promise."
"I will."
"Bradworth told me you couldn't remember anything about those plates. Were you telling him the truth?"
"Yes. I can't recall anything connected to that night without going into a mental tailspin. I've told you before that I can't isolate a specific memory. Everything overlaps and runs together. I can't think of the plates without thinking about that last night with Conner." She said unevenly, "And it may be a while before I have the guts to do that. I'm sorry, Cathy."
"Nothing to be sorry about. I doubt if I could do it either. Then we'll just find a way to get Conner's killer without knowing about the plates. I'll help you all I can, but Ronnie and Donna have to come first." She paused. "I trust you, Hannah. Don't let me down." She didn't wait for a reply as she started toward her son and daughter.
Hannah took a step closer to the rail and looked down into the water. A thousand memories of Conner bombarded her.
"I won't let her down, Conner," she murmured. "And I won't let you down. I swear it."
"Aunt Hannah."
She turned around to see Ronnie standing a few feet away from her. Jesus, he looked like Conner, she realized anew with a pang. The same tight, dark curly hair, the angular face, the elfin arch to his eyebrows. Donna was small and vital like Cathy, but Ronnie was all Conner. He looked older than his eleven years in his dark suit and striped tie. Older and pale and hurting. She held out her hand to him. "Hi."
"Hi." His voice was gruff, and he came forward to nestle against her. "I thought I'd come and be with you. You looked lonely."
"I guess we're all lonely today."
"Yeah." He laid his head against her arm. "It's bad… isn't it?"
"Terrible." She hugged him close and forced herself to release him. "Maybe you should go back and be with your mom. She needs you."
"It's okay. I told Donna to take care of her."
"She's only five, Ronnie."
"But she's smart… sometimes. You just have to nudge her. I think she'll get better in a year or two."
"Oh, she will? I'm glad to hear that."
Eleven going on thirty.
Her eyes stung as she remembered Conner's description of Ronnie.
"Well, I'm glad to have the company, but if you want to go back to your mom, I'll understand."
He shook his head. "Dad would want me here. He worried about you. He told me so."
"Did he? When?"
"A couple years ago. I was just a kid, and I was making a fuss about him leaving to go off with you. He told me that we had to take care of you. That we all had each other, and we had to make sure you knew that we belonged to you too. He didn't want you to be alone." He whispered, "Now he can't take care of you anymore. I have to do it."
She felt as if she were splintering, breaking apart. "I'll be okay," she said unevenly. "It's your mom who-"
He was shaking his head. "He wanted you not to be alone. I have to take his place. I can't do it right now. I'm still a kid, and Mom needs me. But later, when I'm older, maybe I can go away with you and watch out for you like he did."
Dear heaven, she loved him. "Maybe you can." She pressed her lips to his forehead. "We'll talk about it in a year or two. Right now, we just have to get through the next few days."
He nodded, his gaze going to the sea. "It's going to be different. It hurts…" His eyes were glittering with tears. "It hurts bad."
What could she say? Offer comfort when there was no comfort to be had? She gave him the only gift she could. "I love you, Ronnie," she whispered. "And I'm very proud of you. Your dad would be proud of you too…"
Bradworth was sitting on the porch at the bed-and-breakfast when Hannah got back from the dock. He rose to his feet, and said soberly, "My sympathy. I admit I was surprised you phoned and asked me to come here today. I would have come to the dock, but I understood the service was for family only. I know this is a tough day for you."
"Not as tough as the day Conner died."
He shook his head. "But I hoped I'd made it as easy as I could for you and your sister-in-law."
"You made it almost too easy for Cathy," she said bluntly. "You arranged for the cremation, gave her the name of the captain of a boat here. You made sure that there weren't any newspaper reporters harassing her. My brother's remains disappeared from this earth as if he'd never been here."
"I can understand how you might feel antagonistic. Would you rather there had been a publicity stink that would have hurt the museum and your brother's family?"
"You know damn well I wouldn't. The only reason I didn't step in is that Conner would have wanted Cathy and the kids to have as little emotional upheaval as possible."
"Then I did the right thing."
"But for what reason? Why did you want to erase what happened to Conner?" She stared him in the eye. "And you knew what might happen when I phoned you that night. The minute I told you about those plates we found, you knew. You even warned me not to go back there."
"And doesn't that tell you anything? I wanted to keep you safe. I never wanted this to happen."
"Because it made a mess you had to cover up?" she asked bitterly. "Isn't that what you said when you thought I was unconscious on that pier?"
"You misunderstood. Very understandable considering your condition."
"I didn't misunderstand. Were those plates still in the control room when you found Conner?"
He didn't answer.
"Were they, dammit? Answer me."
"No."
"And why would anyone be willing to kill Conner to get them?"
"I have no idea."
"You're lying."
"Think what you will."
"And whoever went after those plates knew about them almost as soon as I did. How?"
He didn't answer.
"How?"
He shrugged. "There was a device planted on the sub to monitor your conversations."
She stared at him in shock. "What? By you?"
"No."
"But you knew about it."
"I was advised when it was planted."
"And you didn't tell me."
"I thought we'd be able to scoop up those bastards before they could do any harm."
"My God, and you used us as bait?"
"I didn't expect th
em to move that quickly if you found something of interest to them. It would have been smarter of them to avoid killing anyone. I thought they might come back for anything valuable after you'd left the submarine."
"But they didn't, did they? They came in like a SWAT team and blew my brother's head off."
"And I can't tell you how much I regret it."
"Regret? You son of a bitch."
"I'm sorry you became involved in something that had such a tragic end, but your best course of action is to walk away from Silent Thunder and forget all about it. In time, I'm sure we'll find the killer of your brother. Trust me."
She stared at him incredulously. "Trust you? You've got to be kidding."
"What are your options? The museum wants to have nothing more to do with you. What happened could be an embarrassment that would taint the opening of their new exhibit. This exhibit could bring big money to this small town, and the local police are being very cooperative and leaving the investigation entirely in our hands."
"They wouldn't do that. There has to be some other reason."
He hesitated, then said, "You're right. Homeland Security called them and told them they had an involvement."
"Homeland Security?"
"They wield an enormous amount of influence these days."
"You're saying terrorists killed Conner?"
"I didn't say that. I said Homeland Security has an involvement. But you don't want to go up against them, Hannah."
"The hell I don't."
"Then go ahead and see how far you get. All it would take would be for Homeland Security to drop a hint in your file that they're interested in your activities. No one would be willing to hire you with that cloud hanging over you." He leaned back in the rocking chair. "Of course, you could go to the newspapers. The press is always ready to leap on any juicy story. It might mean that your brother's widow and children could be hounded unmercifully, but it might be worth it to you."
"You bastard."
"No, I'm one of the good guys."
"The hell you are. You're not with the State Department. You seem to have a good deal of knowledge of Homeland Security. Is that who you work for?"
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