Cyrus Twelve: Leona Foxx Suspense Thriller #2

by Ted Peters

  Soon the coffee was poured and Graham brought Leona up to date on activities involving the life of the church, including a description of the previous Sunday’s worship service. Graham then asked for a debriefing of events at NASA. Leona had much to tell. Graham listened intently, asking questions to get his picture in focus.

  “Now, why the hell did Director Holthusen give you this assignment? You’re only a part timer. So, you run off to China to play spy and I sit here in Chicago baby sitting your congregation. You run off to NASA, and again I just baby sit. I’m available for a new assignment. Why didn’t Holthusen ask me?”

  “He asked me because of my background in biology. What did you do your doctorate in?” Leona was speaking rhetorically, and loudly. “New Religious Movements! What? New Religious Movements! Now, who gives a flying fuck about New Religious Movements?”

  Graham frowned. He picked up a pillow and threw it at Leona. She raised her left arm to parry the pillow thrust. Then, she leaped over the coffee table and on to Graham’s lap, her knees pressed into Graham’s thighs. With her both arms she embraced Graham in a headlock. He wrapped his arms around her lower back and squeezed. They tipped to the side and rolled off the couch, crashing into the coffee table. Two nearly empty coffee mugs went flying. Both wrestlers lay on the floor, tussling.

  Upon hearing the commotion, Buck came running from the kitchen. When he saw the human combat on the living room floor, he began to growl. Then he whined. He did not bark. He shifted his weight from one front foot to the other, growling and whining. It was clear Buck was trying to decide unsuccessfully who the aggressor was. The growl was a warning to the aggressor. The whine indicated that poor Buck was undecided as to what action to take. He walked up on top of the two prone bodies. He wanted to put a stop to the violence, but he did not know how.

  Leona and Graham were now doubling up with laughter. Simultaneously they both reached up to scratch one of Buck’s ears. Upon seeing a cease fire between the two warring humans, Buck’s tail began to wag and he showed signs of relief.

  “Let’s try an experiment,” said Graham. “I’ll pretend to hit you. You scream in pain.”

  “Okay,” said Leona.

  Graham lifted his left hand and pretended to strike Leona’s shoulder. She yelled, “Ouch! Owe!.”

  Buck’s mouth opened with fangs bared. He lurched forward, snapping at Graham’s offending arm with a loud and vicious growl. Graham immediately ceased his arm movement and relaxed back onto the floor. Buck gave out one more warning growl and then backed up a short distance.

  “Well, now I know where I stand with Buck,” said Graham chortling.

  Leona was also laughing. “Oh, Buck! Thank you for protecting me.” She reached up to pet Buck on the head. So did Graham. Buck looked utterly confused, but relieved once again.

  Leona’s iPhone signaled that a text had arrived. She stood up, found her phone, and checked. “Lunch 2morrow. 1:00. Hilton Michigan Ave. Khalid.”

  Chapter 45

  Chicago

  Leona boarded the Metra at 79th Street / Cheltenham in the direction of Chicago’s Loop. She arrived downtown with sufficient time to enjoy a casual springtime walk through Millennium Park to the Hilton. Khalid greeted her upon entering and ushered her to a luxuriously appointed dining room with white table cloths.

  “I had thought I might have just a sandwich or a salad,” she remarked on her way in. “This is a bit much just for lunch.”

  “Not too much for such a beautiful woman,” responded Khalid, following the maïtre d’ to his reserved table, a table for two by the window facing Lake Michigan. Leona smiled. She enjoyed being treated with such charming deference.

  With menus in front of them, Khalid asked, “Now, Reverend Foxx, I know you like wine. What is your favorite?”

  “Oh, just the house wine will do,” she said with a head shake.

  “No. I know better than that. You have a cultivated palate. Please tell me, what is your favorite wine?”

  “It’s not going to be on the menu. And, even if it were on the menu, it’d cost too much.”

  “Let me ask again: what is your favorite wine?”

  Leona shifted slightly in her chair. “Silver Oak.”

  “Did you say Silver Oak?”

  “Yes, It’s a cabernet sauvignon. That’s all Silver Oak makes, cabernet.”

  Khalid requested the wine steward. When he had arrived and greeted the dining room guests, Khalid asked, “Do you have Silver Oak?”

  “Why, yes, of course,” said the steward. “Napa or Alexander Valley.”

  “Napa,” said Leona quickly.

  Khalid smiled. “That’s what will have: one bottle of Napa Valley Silver Oak with two glasses.”

  When the steward was departing, Leona whispered loudly. “Mr. Neshat, you didn’t even ask for the price.”

  “Price makes no difference. We will enjoy our lunch today, Reverend Foxx. We will enjoy Silver Oak as well as the silver crests on Lake Michigan’s waves.”

  Leona sighed and looked out over Millennium Park and the Great Lake beyond.”

  “What brings you to Chicago?” asked Leona.

  “Tomorrow I fly to Detroit. I’ve got a meeting Monday with a small computer peripherals company,” said Khalid.

  “But, what brings you to Chicago?”

  “You, frankly.”

  Leona blushed. Small talk ensued. Khalid spoke of his youth in Iran; his education; his interest in both nuclear physics and astrophysics. He said nothing about his connection to Lionel Chang and the newly formed Transhumanist syndicate. Leona spoke of her Michigan childhood; her studies in biology and astrobiology; and her work as a parish pastor. She said nothing nor even hinted that she had once been incarcerated on death row in a Tehran prison. To the Persian suitor, she appeared to be a home town girl, a home town girl with pulchritude and aptitude.

  The Silver Oak was tasted, sipped, discussed, and enjoyed. So was the lunch that followed.

  “I find it curious,” began Khalid, “that you, with all your education, would dedicate your life to religion.”

  “Actually, Mr. Neshat, I don’t care much about religion per se. What I care about is God and my service to him. I serve God by loving my people. That’s where my heart is. That’s where my life is. Well, most of the time. Right now, I’m certainly enjoying the Silver Oak. And, I’m enjoying our lunch together.”

  Khalid smiled. “If you are enjoying this lunch as much as you say you are, might I make a recommendation?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Please call me Khalid. I’ve heard enough of this Mister Neshat for the day.”

  Leona laughed. “Okay Khalid. And stop with the Reverend stuff. I’m Lee to my friends. And, I’d like to think of you as such a friend. So, it’s Lee. Okay?”

  “Okay, Lee.”

  They toasted.

  “Do you believe we human beings should be moral, Lee?” asked Khalid in a baiting tone?

  “Certainly,” responded Leona.

  “Why do you think we should be moral?” he asked, now sipping his wine.

  “Because this is what God wants us to do,” she said. Then, she added, “God is love. If we abide in love, we abide in God. Or, maybe it’s the other way around. If we abide in God, then we’ll look for ways to love one another.”

  “Nah. I think it’s all in the oxytocin,” he blustered.

  “What do you mean?” Leona’s nose was sniffing her wine’s bouquet.

  “Oxytocin is a neuropeptide that influences brain activity. It enables mothers to bond with their babies. When it’s active we want to make friends. It’s what makes the two sexes attracted to each other. Without oxytocin, you’d be a loner. We’d all be loners. Oxytocin rewards us: doing good makes us feel good. Morality is just the way oxytocin dictates that we live in groups, live in community. It’s simple, isn’t it? We don’t need a supernatural explanation such as God. Just look at how our brains work.”

  “I know what oxytocin is.
But, if our morality is simply the result of neural activity, why do we get the sense of obligation, the demand to do what is right or good even if we don’t will to do it?”

  “I don’t feel any sense of obligation. I just do what feels good. Have you thought that maybe religion and belief in God’s demand is a mistake? Maybe it’s a mistake in human evolution. Maybe oxytocin doesn’t require religion or belief in God to make us bond with one another for survival. Maybe morality is less important than you think it is. What do you think about that?” Khalid took a sip from his glass.

  “I think that love is the ultimate. It’s divine,” responded Leona. “When we love or receive love, God is present. Even if your oxytocin theory could be confirmed scientifically, this would not alter the metaphysical part of it. God is co-present in our neurons and in our relationships. Well, Khalid, that’s what I think.” Leona smiled and took another sip.

  “I’m glad we’re talking about love, Lee.” Khalid winked.

  Leona’s iPhone signaled. She checked the incoming text. Her facial expression changed. Her face read: terror. “Khalid, I must get a taxi immediately. I’m sorry, but I can’t continue our delightful conversation at the moment. Please call me again.”

  Leona disappeared from the dining room on the run. Khalid watched her depart, helplessly.

  Chapter 46

  Chicago

  “To O’Hare! I’m in a hurry.” exclaimed Leona as she slammed the cab door.

  “Which airline?” asked the driver as he pulled south on Michigan Avenue and then turned west.

  “United.”

  Leona hit speed dial. “Grammy?” The voice on the other end had only enough time to breathe loudly before Leona continued. “I’m on my way to O’Hare. Gotta get to San Francisco. Angie left me a message. She says her sister Kelly has been found dead. Her body dismembered. I can’t believe it. I saw Kelly just two nights ago.”

  Graham started to speak. Leona interrupted him.

  “Can you take over Sunday’s duties? Sorry to ask this once again.”

  Leona could not see Graham stomping his feet. His feet said, “No dammit!” But his voice squeaked, “Of course, Lee. You can count on me.”

  “Gotta hang up Grammy. You’re a peach. Love you. Oh, and please feed Buck and Midnight.” Click.

  Chapter 47

  Mountain View

  It was 8:30 pm PST when Leona’s flight touched down at SFO. Angie’s plane from Detroit arrived half an hour later. The two met at the baggage claim, even though Leona brought no baggage. The two women rented a Prius and raced south on Highway 101 toward Mountain View. Angie had arranged by phone to meet her brother-in-law, Alexander Compton, at the Compton home only a mile from Moffat Field. They arrived shortly before 10:00 Saturday evening.

  Once in the living room, Angie raced to Alex and they hugged. Tears flowed. Leona approached more cautiously. A giant of a man stood up from the sofa and stretched out his hand. “Chris MacDonald from NASA, Reverend Foxx. We met...”

  “Oh, of course, Doctor MacDonald. Thanks for being here at this dreadful moment. Was today the day the satellite would be launched?” Leona asked.

  “Yes. Everything went up just as planned,” answered Chris.

  A second man stood and introduced himself as Alan Kurz from TTU.

  “Yes, I saw you from afar at the NASA reception” said Leona courteously. “Nice to finally meet you.”

  When MacDonald and Kurz had retaken their seats a third man stood up. About Leona’s age and height with a growing pot belly, he wore a short sleeve collared blue shirt with a tan vest sweater. He spoke first. “I’m Inspector Brocker, Michael Brocker, with the Mountain View PD. And you are....?”

  “My name is Leona Foxx. I’m a pastor in Chicago. I grew up with Kelly and Angie, her older sister, in Dearborn, Michigan. We’ve been lifelong friends. I’m so glad you’re here, Inspector.”

  Next a Japanese American woman stood up to say, “I’m Tina Matsuoka. I’m with the FBI, Pastor Foxx.”

  “Why’s the FBI here?” questioned Leona.

  Chris MacDonald interrupted. “We always involve the FBI when something comes up at NASA. It’s a federal facility.”

  “Oh,” said Leona, turning to Alex, who had finally freed himself from Angie’s embrace. Leona stuck out her hand for a shake. Seeing the tears in his eyes, she moved her body close to his and gave him a comforting hug.

  “Where are the children?” Leona asked Alex.

  “My sister has them at her home right now. They’re just fine.”

  After Angie and Leona had seated themselves and were served some decaffeinated coffee, it was time for a summary.

  Inspector Brocker took the floor. “This is difficult to describe. Please tell me how much detail you think you’ll be able to hear?”

  “All of it. Every detail,” said Leona. Then, she looked sheepishly at Alex and Angie. They nodded agreement.

  Brocker proceeded, looking at Angie. “Your sister’s body was found in a Safeway dumpster. I regret to say that it was found in two locked suit cases. Her upper body had been severed from her lower extremities, and stuffed separately into the two bags.”

  Both Angie and Leona winced. Alex turned his head and closed his eyes.

  Brocker continued to describe the contents of the two suit cases, how and when they had been discovered, and what the coroner and forensics lab had determined. The estimated time of death was shortly after the NASA reception on Thursday evening. No one in the room could connect Kelly with the Safeway store. No one had seen Kelly returning to her NASA lab that evening. Everyone was stunned by the facts they were hearing.

  “It’s interesting,” said Chris MacDonald, “we had two deaths that night. The other was Dr. Wu Phee Seng. He died in his sleep.”

  “Any connection?” asked Leona.

  “Perhaps not,” answered Tina Matsuoka. “Dr. Wu died of sleep apnea. He stopped breathing and suffocated. This is not uncommon for men with this condition. I would like to say that it’s only a coincidence these two events took place at approximately the same time. But, I can’t disconnect them completely. You see, Kelly’s car was found in the parking lot of the same hotel where Dr. Wu was found dead.”

  Mr. Compton gasped. Everyone’s looked startled. Nothing was said for a moment.

  “The car keys?” asked Leona.

  “Found in one of the suit cases,” answered Tina.

  “Let’s get back to Kelly,” requested Leona.

  “I have photos of the suitcase contents and of the dismembered body parts,” said Brocker. “If you wish to examine them....But, you don’t have to.”

  “No!” said Alex.

  “No, I just can’t,” said Angie.

  “Please let me look at them,” said Leona reaching across to take them. She studied them carefully as the conversation continued to buzz in the room.

  “Mr. Brocker. You have pictures of Kelly’s profile, from both the left and the right. Now, I see an earring on her right ear. But, no earring on her left ear. Did you locate the second earring?”

  “You’re very observant, Rev. Foxx,” Brocker responded. “No. There was no sign of the second earring.”

  “By coincidence, I gave Kelly this very set of earrings. For her wedding.” Leona bowed her head and leafed through the photos once again. She interrupted again. “What is this item? Here, in the corner of this suitcase?” Leona asked Brocker.

  “Oh, that’s a cell phone.”

  “Kelly’s?”

  “No. Kelly’s phone was found underneath her body parts in the other suit case.”

  “So, this is a second phone, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Whose cell phone.”

  “We’ve identified it as belonging to Doug Valentine.”

  MacDonald’s face turned sheet white. “What? Doug Valentine! That can’t be.”

  Matsuoka spoke. “We have a theory. Right now it’s only a theory. I’m sorry to say this in front of Mrs. Compton’s husb
and.”

  Alex nodded for her to continue.

  “We conjecture that Mrs. Compton lied to Mr. Compton when she said she was going back to the lab to shut down a computer. Instead, we believe she met Mr. Valentine at some secluded location. It should be mentioned that the preliminary autopsy shows fresh semen in Mrs. Compton’s vagina.”

  Alex turned his head again. Angie dropped her face into her hands.

  Matsuoka continued. “It is possible that following sex the two had a falling out, perhaps an argument. At that time Mr. Valentine murdered Mrs. Compton. He then tried to dispose of the body in the manner you see here.”

  “My wife having an affair with Doug!” exclaimed Alex. “I find that just too hard to believe.”

  “I find it hard to believe too,” added MacDonald.

  “Right now,” continued Matsuoka, “this is only a working hypothesis. We’ll explore this until we meet a dead end.”

  “What about Doug?” asked MacDonald. “Have you talked to him?”

  “As we speak,” said Brocker, “he is being brought to headquarters for questioning. In fact, I need to get over there. Tina, are you coming along?”

  After the good-byes were said, the two law officers took their leave. Leona asked permission to accompany them.

  “You can ride with me,” Brocker told Leona.

  Chapter 48

  Mountain View

  Doug Valentine was as bewildered as grieved over the disappearance and then the report of Kelly’s death. To be questioned by police as a suspect elicited even more anxiety than the confusion had.