by Lee Perry
“This is my associate, Doctor Catherine Bernard.”
“I see.” At one hundred and nine, Helga Lynch took up little space in the narrow hospital bed, “And how do you associate with the FBI, Doctor Bernard?”
Catherine felt herself blush at her choice of words and she smiled, “I provide a certain level of computer expertise…”
“Of the highest caliber.” Jordan finished for her, “Miss Lynch…”
“Call me Helga.”
“Uh-alright, yes, Helga, I was contacted by your building manager Mister Richter…”
“Ah, yes, Harold is a sweet man but I wish he had respected my wishes in this matter.”
“Mister Richter pointed out he has a responsibility to protect all the tenants in his building, he was quite right in contacting us and to assure you, Helga, I have no intention of alerting the media in my investigation of this theft.” Jordan waited for her to interrupt and when she didn’t she continued, “Currently, art thefts are investigated in a much more subtle manner, mostly through the Internet.”
Helga turned to Catherine, “Which is where you come in.”
Catherine grinned, “Probably.”
“But I decline to file a report, Agent Hawkins.”
She spoke pleasantly and Jordan smiled, feeling indulgent, “That’s alright, since Mister Richter actually reported the theft I’m still obligated to pursue an investigation. I will respect your privacy; I just came by to see if you had any information that could be useful in helping me find your Rodin?”
“You’d be pleased if she recovered it and returned it to you,” Catherine said in a soft voice, “wouldn’t you?”
Helga Lynch squinted at her for a long moment and held out her hand, “Come closer so I can get a better look at you.”
Catherine took the soft liver-spotted hand in hers and Helga pulled her closer until she sat on the edge of the hospital bed. “So, Doctor Bernard, do you enjoy the arts? Or does science own your soul?”
“Please call me Catherine,” she chuckled, “and no, I quite enjoy art, in fact, in school I was always struck by how often scientific discoveries are inspired by artistic notions.”
“Really?” Helga’s hugely magnified eyes crinkled merrily behind the strong lenses, “And did Gary show you a picture of the Rodin that was stolen?”
“Yes.” Catherine blushed and Helga chuckled,
“Yes, scandalous, isn’t it? I never met him but I had an art teacher who knew him and he said he became quite lecherous in his old age.” She turned bespectacled eyes back to Jordan, “I’m not embarrassed to have owned such an erotic piece of art.” She said to Catherine, “It’s not the only piece like that I own.” She turned back to Jordan, “But I have avoided the public eye my entire life, Agent Hawkins, and I do not intend to enter it now.”
Jordan watched the exchanges between Helga Lynch and Catherine with interest and she smiled, “Call me Jordan, and again, let me assure you we have ways to investigate this theft quietly, no mention of your name need appear publically. I just want to recover your Rodin for you, if we catch the thief, Mister Tauscher and your cleaning lady would be the only witnesses called to testify.”
“Hmm...” Helga sniffed, considering her words for a long moment until she finally nodded, “Very well, Jordan, I will give my consent and cooperate with your investigation, although I’m afraid since I’ve been here I can’t offer anything in the way of clues to help you.”
“Thank you.” Jordan gave Catherine a secret look, grinning, “We’ll be on our way then, I’m sorry we disturbed you.”
“Quite alright,” Helga said, looking at Catherine as though she had been the one speaking, “I quite enjoyed the visit… and I hope you find my Iris.”
Catherine gave the aged hand a warm squeeze, “Thank you for speaking with us.” She stood and followed Jordan out the door, closing it quietly behind them.
A petite, compact-looking Asian woman stormed angrily down the bare, aseptic-looking corridor toward them, “Come here!” She hissed at them, glaring, “Come over here right now!”
Jordan looked around them and pointed to herself and Catherine, “You mean us?”
“YES!” The tiny woman scowled, red-faced and pointed down the hall to the elevator.
Jordan looked at Catherine in amusement and shrugged, following the petite fury dressed in pink hospital scrubs. When they appeared to be out of earshot of Helga’s room the nurse turned to them angrily and stamped her foot, “Who are you to disturb Madame without permission?” She demanded.
Jordan held her badge wallet open in front of the woman’s nose, “I’m FBI Special Agent Jordan Hawkins… and you are?”
“I am Hannah Babcock,” she replied in a huffy, Japanese accent, “I am Madame Lynch’s personal nurse.”
Jordan bit her lip and nodded gravely, willing herself not to dwell on Nurse Babcock’s pronunciation of Madame Rynch and she bit down hard on the giggle that threatened to escape. Well, of course she says it that way, it’s just an accent, now move on, “I spoke to Miss Lynch regarding a legal matter.” She silently noted how the tiny nurse blanched ever so slightly,
“I demand you tell me.” She huffed.
Jordan’s head tilted slightly to one side, “No you don’t,” she said, her voice deadly quiet, “you don’t make demands of me.”
Nurse Babcock glared up at her; silent save for her labored breathing and Catherine watched the exchange in amazement, wondering how Jordan would proceed.
“You never come back here.” She waved her finger haughtily, “Never bother Madame again. Now go ‘way.”
No longer amused by the ferocious tiny ball of rage, Jordan leaned down to look her in the eye, “I have no idea if I’ll need to speak to Miss Lynch again, but if I do I can promise you if you try to interfere I will happily arrest you for obstruction of justice and take you to jail… Do you understand?”
Catherine bit the smile from her lips as she watched Nurse Babcock deflate before her eyes.
“It’s my job, I take care of Madame.”
The elevator doors opened and Jordan stepped around her, “Yes, I’m sure you do, have a nice day.”
Once the elevator doors closed behind them, Catherine burst out laughing, “Wow, she was something else!”
Jordan snickered, “I’ll say…” She checked her watch, “when we get back could you do one of your quick, surreptitious online searches for her Rodin while I put out an agency-wide alert for it?” She shrugged one-sidedly, “Then it should be time to head home.”
“You bet, boss.” She sighed, “This sure has been a strange afternoon.”
“I don’t know how much money Miss Lynch has, but if she can afford to live here you’d think her room would look nicer.”
“Yes, what’s up with this place?” Catherine looked around her at the standard-looking elevator, “Everything I’ve heard about this hospital is about how opulent it is; catering to the rich looking to maintain the high life while they get their face lifted.”
“Her eyesight’s obviously quite poor; did you see what the view is from her window?” Catherine shook her head. “It’s an air conditioning unit on the roof next door, about as far from that amazing view in her apartment as you can get.” She sighed, “Makes you wonder if she has any awareness of what her money has been buying her here for the past twenty-four years.”
“She seemed pretty sharp to me.”
“She did.” Jordan suddenly nudged her, “Thanks for coming out with me, don’t forget I owe you a make-out lunch on the park.”
PART 1
“By the pricking of my thumbs,
something wicked this way comes.”
- William Shakespeare, Macbeth
Millburn, NJ
They sat together on a gold embroidered divan in the art gallery of sculptures. Helga looked resplendent in a long flowing gown of emerald green and Catherine, marveling at the life force emanating from her, squinted, trying to see her better, but the light was so brigh
t it was difficult to see and she turned to look at the windows,
No, it’s not coming from there…
Helga held both her hands in hers and when Catherine turned back to her, she felt as though she had just arrived mid-conversation:
“Do you have children?”
Her eyes brimmed as they always did when she felt the pain of her lost daughter, “Yes… and I have a son who’s three.”
“I wish I’d written you a check.”
She laughed, “What?”
“He’ll be going to school soon, won’t he? There are many excellent private schools and colleges out there.” She gave the younger hands a squeeze, “I loved doing that.”
“Doing what?” Catherine looked at her, bemused.
Helga chuckled, shrugging as she looked around her, “It is nice to see all of this again.”
Catherine looked too, “What will happen to it all?”
Her smile was beatific, “It doesn’t matter.”
She woke and when she rolled onto her side, she saw Jordan watching her.
“Having a dream?” She asked, placing a quick kiss on her lips.
“Good morning…” Catherine mumbled, “I… yeah, I was.”
“You were in that REM cycle; I could see your eyes moving back and forth under the lids.”
“Remember that art theft Stewart sent you to a few weeks ago?”
“I do,” Jordan squinted over her shoulder, checking the time, “that erotic sculpture…”
“Yeah, I dreamed I was talking to the owner.”
Jordan sat up, swinging long legs to the floor, “Helga…” She stretched, rotating her shoulders and neck, “Helga Lynch.” She turned to her, “And?”
“I don’t know,” Catherine shrugged, “We were sitting in her gallery and she was talking about writing a check.”
“For what?”
“For Cam’s education… I think.”
“Huh.” Jordan’s brow furrowed then arched, “Ready for today?”
“Mmm, ready to spend half a day at work and the other half on a plane?” She stretched in the bed, “As long as I get a weekend in sunny California with you...” She gripped the t-shirt Jordan wore and pulled her down on top of her, making her laugh, “I’m always ready for that.”
“With any luck the grand jury will be done with me by lunch tomorrow so I can meet you at the zoo.”
Catherine pulled her close, arching provocatively against her, “I’m looking forward to it, Agent Hawkins.”
San Diego, CA
She was scrolling through all the numbers she had preset in her phone for the trip, looking for the taxi service number and grinned when she saw the yellow cab parked along the curb. She trotted over and peered into the open passenger window, “Are you available?”
“I am.” The driver dropped the magazine he was reading and waved her in, “Where to?”
She climbed in to the back seat, “The zoo.”
They had arrived in sunny San Diego late the previous afternoon and spent less than an hour swimming in the hotel’s pool before jet lag caught up with them. Jordan ordered room service for dinner and when Cameron fell asleep in her arms while watching a video, she put him in the second bed then joined Catherine in the first.
The next morning Catherine and Cameron slept in and Jordan got up early and kissing them goodbye, left to give testimony in the grand jury case of The People vs. Warren Jeffers. She sat in the witness chair for more than three hours, answering the prosecutor’s questions regarding the digital bank theft and murder of William Zegher by Jeffers in Zegher’s home in La Jolla.
Unaware she was smiling; she tapped Catherine’s cell phone number, “Hey!” she grinned, gazing at the streets they passed, “I’m done and on my way to you, have you had lunch yet?”
“Jordan!” Catherine sounded happy, “we’re getting pretty hungry but we’ll wait for you by the entrance, okay?”
Jordan’s phone beeped and she looked quickly at the screen, “Sounds like a plan, I gotta’ go, Stewart’s calling me.”
“Okay, see you in a few.”
She tapped the screen, “Stewart?”
“Jordan, hi, are you done testifying?”
“Yeah, I don’t know how far it’ll go in persuading Jeffers to plead out and spare himself another death penalty… I’ve heard he’s really enjoyed the spotlight so far.”
“And it doesn’t matter how many death sentences he gets in all these states, he’ll still end up serving a life sentence while everyone fights with each other for the privilege of killing him…” He added, “That asshole.”
“Yes, he is.”
“So I’m calling you because Agent Hargrove is back from vacation and needs to pull you into her that art theft investigation I sent you to, remember?”
Jordan snorted and shook her head, remembering Catherine’s dream the morning before, “Yes?”
“She’s up in Carmel Valley at one of that lady’s many mansions; meet her there and she’ll fill you in on the details.”
“Uh… okay.”
“Hey, it’s something to break up the monotony of the Jeffers’s crap.”
“I’m not complaining I’m just surprised.”
“I sent you an email with her location and contact info, check in with me after, okay?”
Big Sur, CA
“See it?”
Catherine leaned forward in her seat, straining against the seatbelt, “I think I see the rock but…”
Jordan checked the backseat mirror hanging under the rearview mirror and grinned when she saw Cameron asleep in the child safety seat. Checking the other mirrors, she clicked on the turn signal, making a u-turn on the highway and stopped the rental car on the side of the road, facing south. She turned off the engine and pointed at the Point Sur Lighthouse, “See it now?”
Catherine gave her a smile and took her hand, turning back to the view of crashing ocean waves on shore and the distant lighthouse beyond, perched halfway up the three hundred foot high rock extending out to sea. “Seems like a lifetime ago…” she murmured, gazing until the beacon flashed in their direction. “And it was,” she grinned, “it was a whole lifetime ago.” Jordan unfastened their seatbelts and pulled her onto her lap. “Hey…” she peeked at her sleeping son in the back, “Wanna’ make out a little?” Jordan answered by placing warm lips on hers. The embrace was sweetly nostalgic and Catherine whispered, “Do you ever wish we could go back there again?”
Jordan drew in a deep breath through her nose, looking past her, “Yes… and no.” She wrapped long arms around the petite form in her arms and pulled her close, “I have so many conflicting emotions about that place. On the one hand, it’s where you grieved Chelsea while holding onto hope in getting Cameron back. On the other hand, it’s where I fell in love with you… On the other hand, it’s where you decided your marriage was over.” She squeezed the arms around her, “That was so hard for you…”
Catherine whispered against her neck, “That’s too many hands.”
She tucked her chin to gaze into deep brown eyes, “And on the other hand I was grateful it did end,” She smiled, kissing her. Long minutes passed while they exchanged long kisses, noses nuzzling as lips and tongues dreamily caressed the other until finally she murmured, “Ready to go? We have another hour to the Lynch mansion.”
“Mmm-okay…” Catherine nodded, placing a final kiss on warm lips, “you’re right.” She shifted back to the passenger seat and they clicked their seatbelts back into place. She turned to check on Cameron, still asleep in the back as Jordan started the engine and pulling back onto the highway, executed another u-turn, taking them north again.
Carmel Valley, CA
“Oh my, this is beautiful…”
Jordan drove slowly along the gently winding road so they could take in the oak trees lining the road, moss hanging from the branches, “I’ll say…”
Catherine waved her tablet, unwilling to look away from the verdant countryside, “The listing I found
for this place says it was built in 1922 by Joseph Kendrick Lynch.”
“Helga’s, uh… father?”
“I believe so. The original structure was torn down and rebuilt in 1932 after it suffered earthquake damage… it looks like a giant u-shaped structure now, completed in 1934. The front door is at the bottom of the U, in front of a circular driveway…” She sighed as Jordan drove past a large pond filled with dark blue water, “Just look at that.”
“Are there fish in there?” Cameron piped up from the back seat.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “maybe.”
They had stopped in the village to stretch their legs and now that Cameron was awake, he was ready for action, “Can I play with my toys when we get there?”
“Of course you can.” Jordan grinned, “We’re on a mini-vacation.”
He pressed a favorite stuffed dog toy to his face and hummed, “Mini vacaaa-shun!”
Jordan followed the road, driving alongside a white rail fence and pointed over the steering wheel, “That has to be it.”
“Wow…” was all Catherine could say as Jordan pulled into a circular driveway in front of an enormous two-story ranch house.
She parked the car and while Catherine helped Cameron out of the backseat, Jordan tilted her head to regard the Lynch mansion, shielding her eyes from the setting sun.
“Hello!”
They turned to the voice and Jordan waved to the figure that emerged from the front door, “Hello, Mattie Hargrove?”
“Yep, that’s me.” A dark-haired woman, roughly the same height as Jordan came down the wide steps, “And you must be Agent Hawkins?”
“Call me Jordan,” she shook her hand, “And this is my partner, Doctor Catherine Bernard and her son, Cameron.”