by Dale Mayer
He stepped back, then used a finger to tilt up her chin, and said, “You’ve never had one. But hopefully, when this mess dies down, you’ll find out what having one actually means.”
*
He shouldn’t have laughed at her. That wasn’t fair. But she’d gotten so defensive, and he realized how she must’ve taken his questioning earlier. Of course they were going to hurt. But nothing she had said afterward caused concern. He’d always known she was innocent. It just shocked him when he heard the message.
Now he had to do his best to make her believe him, because he did trust her. When he’d first met her, he’d been worried about her lack of interest where her father was concerned for her actions. As if there would be no reprisals. But Stone had come to understand and realized he’d been wrong. She was many things, but unconcerned and heartless weren’t two of them.
He reached out and grabbed her hand and said, “Let’s go. We don’t have too much time to hit the post office before it closes. Have you considered calling the refugee camp to see if any parcels were sent to you there?” He shrugged. “But would anybody have done that without you knowing?”
“Maybe, but I don’t know why.” She turned her back on him.
“But then it would also mean somebody understood you would be going home, or that someone would be collecting your mail for you.”
“Or they thought the latter, and then when we were kidnapped and eventually returned home, they realized there was a change of plans because I was now here.”
He studied her face as they walked to the front door. “That’s possible.” He motioned to the big truck. “We’ll take this. Can you call them when we’re driving?”
“Sure.” As he took them out of the compound and headed toward town, she asked, “Do we need to get permission to go into Marge’s house?”
“Levi’s working on that.” He grinned at the look on her face.
But of course Levi was. They had to look at all angles. They worked with the law, not against it. Unless they were forced to.
His phone rang as he turned onto the main highway. He pulled it from his pocket and clipped it on the dashboard. After pressing the button, he said, “Hey, Levi. What’s up?”
“The police say you can go to Marge’s. They’re okay with her taking any mail that might be there as long as her name is on it. An officer will meet you. Don’t enter until he arrives.”
“Okay. That’s fine. We’ll wait for him.”
“Also keep an eye out. We’re waiting for the officers to transfer our prisoner. You should pass them soon. Can you call me when you see them?”
“Will do.”
Stone drove on. Just on the outside of the town’s limit, he passed a big black smoke-windowed SUV. He waved at the driver, then leaned across to push Levi’s number on his phone. When he answered, Stone said, “Just passed a vehicle now, Levi.”
“Thanks. Where are you?”
“At the town’s limit.”
“Okay, so he’s ten minutes out.” They could hear Levi talking to somebody in the background. He came back on again and said, “Be careful in town.” Then he hung up.
Stone stared at the windshield. He knew exactly what Levi’s last words meant, but was hoping Lissa didn’t.
He should’ve known better.
Chapter 22
She didn’t want to ask what particular danger they were facing in town. Her imagination had been running for days as it was. She didn’t need any other fuel for that fire. But with Stone beside her, she felt quite confident they’d handle whatever it was.
Hating that sense of impending doom, and being incapable of doing anything about it, she brought out her phone and called the main office in the refugee camp. She hoped Cindy still worked there. They’d been good friends, often spending a fair bit of time together.
“Hello?”
Lissa grinned. “Cindy? Is that you? This is Lissa.”
Shocked surprise was followed by an explosive exclamation. “Oh, my God! Lissa, are you all right? We were so worried about you after the kidnapping. We got word you’d been rescued, but that must have been terrible,” she cried.
“That’s one of the reasons I’m calling,” Lissa said. “I wanted to let you know I’m okay. We were rescued from the terrorists, flown to England, now I’m back in the States. All safe and sound.”
“Oh, thank God! That was so terrible. We were in shock for days.”
“Did you ever increase security after we were kidnapped?”
“Oh, yes, big time. Are Kevin and Susan both okay?” she asked.
“Unfortunately, Susan didn’t make it.” Lissa’s voice dropped in pain. “We got as far as England, but then she died in the hospital there. It looked like she was quite sick. It was something that maybe she didn’t know about.”
“Oh, no. That’s so sad. She was definitely sick. Kevin said she was undergoing constant treatments for some kind of a blood disease.”
“Oh, dear. I’m so sorry to hear that. How is it that I didn’t know?”
“The only reason I knew was sometimes I had to get Kevin some of the drugs for her. They were really expensive.”
“That must’ve been fun to source out of Afghanistan.”
Cindy laughed. “Mostly just mailing stuff to their addresses at one of his houses. And then the drugs were there waiting for them when they got in.”
And that brought up a whole mess of new questions. “I didn’t even know they had houses.” She turned to study Stone, who was paying attention to the road and her conversation.
“I used to mail them out to France and England. They have a house in both places, or that was my understanding.”
“Did you send any out recently for him, like before we were kidnapped?”
“Just one to the States.” Cindy stopped. Then she said, “I remember now. The last parcel I sent was for you.”
“Oh, I totally forgot about the parcel mailed for me.” But she turned to look at Stone and shook her head as if to make sure he believed her.
“You probably don’t remember because Kevin actually asked me to send it to you for safekeeping. They were coming over for the conference in Houston this week. Remember?”
“Right. With everything going on, it slipped my mind.”
“Now that Susan’s gone, he may not attend anyway.”
“Right, I can ask him. If he wants me to send the box somewhere else, I can do that too.”
“When you talk to Kevin, give my condolences. Susan was such a sweetheart.”
“That she was.”
Lissa hung up after that. Then shared with Stone what was up.
“Interesting. I wonder if that parcel has even arrived yet. It’s good news for us if it hasn’t.”
He pulled the truck up to a stop light. He glanced both ways and then made a left turn. They pulled up in front of Marge’s house so fast, she hadn’t even realized they were that close.
One of the local officers stood outside waiting for them. They walked up to him slowly. Lissa hooked her arm through Stone’s, grateful he was here with her at this house. She did not want to walk in there alone, nor see the devastation again. She knew Marge’s body had been taken to the morgue, but she doubted anybody had cleaned up.
She wasn’t sure who was responsible for such a thing.
Hopefully the insurance company would step in. She paused at the front door and took a deep breath. It took a moment for her gaze to go past the devastation the intruder had wrought and to think logically about where Marge would’ve put her mail.
“She said it was in a basket,” Lissa said to Stone. They walked in the living room and looked for one on the floor or shelves, but they didn’t find anything. They proceeded to the kitchen and took a look around.
On the counter against the rear kitchen door was a small basket with mail in it. Stone lifted it up for her to take a look.
“It seems to be a mix of hers and mine.” She kept her eyes averted from the bloodstains on the kitchen f
loor; the chair appeared to still be in the same position where Marge had been tied up. Lissa went through the mail and pulled out fourteen pieces with her name. Nothing noting parcels waited for her anywhere.
They continued to look through the cupboards for anything else, but it made sense that the basket was where she kept all of it. They replaced it, then turned to the deputy and showed him the mail she had pulled out. She offered her ID to prove who she was, and he let them walk out with it. When they got back into the truck, she rolled down the window and took several deep gulping breaths.
“You okay?”
“I’m not sure I will ever be,” she whispered. “Just being in that house—I’d almost blocked it out, but seeing it all over again…”
She felt his hand wrap around hers. He stroked her fingers for a long moment before laying her hand down on her thigh. He cranked the engine. “How do you feel about running past your house? We can check to see if any mail may have arrived today, or since Marge’s last visit.”
“We might as well. It’s on the way to the post office anyway.”
“Good enough.”
When they pulled up in front of her house five minutes later, her heart sank. This was the last place she wanted to be. On the other hand, with a fast in and out, they might be lucky to find what they were looking for.
Only she stood in the living room fifteen minutes later and realized there was no easy way. They hadn’t found anything here. Mail or otherwise.
“Can we leave now?” she asked. She made her way to the front door and opened it. She couldn’t wait to get the hell out of here. As far she was concerned, she was never coming back.
He came up behind her, leaving the house together and closing the door. Hearing the door lock, she walked down the steps to the truck. “Do you think anyone’s watching us?”
“I don’t think so right now. But we will always proceed with caution, with the assumption that it’s possible.”
They drove down the street to the post office and parked. She sat in the truck for a few minutes, just staring at the front door of the building. “So do I just ask if there is a parcel for me?”
“Does that bother you?”
She shrugged. “It seems odd. Aren’t I supposed to have a notice or something?”
He laughed. “I’ll do the talking.”
“Good.” She laughed too. “I like that idea.” She hopped out of the truck and fell into step beside him. Inside he headed straight for the front counter.
Without preamble he said, “Good afternoon. Lissa, here,” he turned and tugged her forward, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, “just came back from eight months of traveling. She was expecting a parcel, but we haven’t seen any sign of it yet. Her friend was collecting her mail, but she has been well, you might have heard, but she was murdered. Her place was trashed. So we have no way of knowing if a notice was left for her to pick up or not.” He gave the clerk that damn heartbreaker smile.
The older woman melted. She turned to Lissa. “Oh, you poor dear. What’s the last name? I’ll go check.”
“Brampton,” she said quietly. “And thank you.”
“No problem. The mail was late today so we have quite a few parcels to sort through.” She disappeared into a room in the back.
Stone and Lissa stood silently and waited in the empty store. It was almost closing time.
When the lady didn’t return right away, Lissa paced impatiently.
“Well, we found your parcel.” The woman came out, carrying a small box. “If you have your ID available, I can confirm it’s yours.”
Lissa already had it out. The woman checked it, then handed over the box. “There you go.”
“While we’re here, maybe we can do a change of address form to forward her mail.”
“Of course.” The postal worker slapped a form down in front of Stone. “Just fill this form out and give it back to me for six months of forwarding.”
And then they were done.
As they walked to the truck, the lady walked behind them and locked the post office door.
“Good timing,” Stone said as they climbed into the truck.
Lissa didn’t say anything. She was still working through his request for the change of address form—and the one he’d written down. It only made sense, considering she wasn’t returning to her place and didn’t have Marge to pick up any missed mail anymore. It still felt strange. Like a seal of acceptance on her living arrangements with the team, with Stone.
“You recognize the package?”
She stared down at the simple brown cardboard box. Her name was on the front, but no identifying marks were on it. She checked all the other sides, but nothing indicated where it had come from, other than the stamp that said it was from Afghanistan.
“It’s just as Cindy said. But I have no idea what it is.” She turned to look at him. “You want to open it here or take it home?”
“Why don’t we head down to the coffee shop, and we’ll take a look there and then drive home.”
*
He knew he’d made the right decision by suggesting coffee at the place at the end of the block. It was hardly a date, but it was a few minutes non-work-related away from the others. He had jumped forward and stepped on her toes about forwarding her mail to the compound. But she hadn’t protested, although she’d been silent while they were in the truck.
He pulled in and parked, then led her to a small booth at the far end of the restaurant. He ordered coffee for them. “Do you need anything to eat?”
She shook her head. “Alfred’s got a big dinner happening. We have time for coffee, but that’s about it.”
Right. They were working on Alfred’s time frame here too. Stone checked his watch and said, “We have half an hour.” He brought out his pocketknife and offered it to her.
She shook her head and moved the box closer to him. “For all I know that stuff will explode.”
For the merest second, he hesitated and she burst into cheerful laughter.
He grinned and gently slit the tape open. Flipping open the box, he pulled out another small one with the logo affixed of a very popular and expensive brand-name perfume. Frowning and yet wondering at the same time if this Kevin guy was seriously brilliant or stupid, Stone opened it and found the perfume.
He carefully lifted the bottle from the box and noted the seal around the neck but on closer examination, found it was actually tape, it was well-done.
Replacing the bottle inside, he then repackaged it in the mailing box. He kept it close as he lifted his coffee cup and took a sip, eyeing her over the rim.
He asked the questions burning in the back of his mind. “Where do you see yourself in six months? What do you see yourself doing?”
Startled, she put her cup down and lifted her head to stare at him. “You serious?”
“Yes, I am.” And he waited.
“You know, that’s not the thing I expected you to ask about.” She nudged her chin toward the box. “That’s what I was waiting on.”
He shrugged. “It’s pretty obvious what it is, where it came from, and how it got here. The right answers will come in time.” He lowered his cup and added, “What I don’t know is what you want. Do you want to go to a friend’s house? Be with your family? Or somewhere else? What do you want for yourself?”
“And if I don’t have an answer for you?” she asked curiously.
He waited for a moment and then asked, “Don’t you have any idea?”
This wasn’t exactly going the way he wanted it to. But then they had been falling into a relationship, and he wanted to know that she was invested in this. When he’d seen her grab her bag, ready to move out today, it almost broke his heart. That’s when he realized he needed to do something to at least know where he was headed with her.
He didn’t want to just travel aimlessly forward into a relationship not really founded on anything other than circumstances. He wanted to know where they stood.
The door to the c
afé opened with force. He glanced over, noting that most of the tables were empty, and caught sight of the man’s face and stiffened.
Lissa spun around in her seat and gasped. “Kevin?”
Chapter 23
Lissa stared in shock as Kevin walked in the diner and sat down beside her. Then she felt the cold metal of a gun barrel against her ribs, but he never even looked at her. He kept his gaze on Stone. Smart man. Stone would rip him limb by limb for this.
“I’d say it’s good to see you, Kevin, but obviously it isn’t,” she said caustically. “Did you kill your wife?” For the first time she saw a pained look cross his face.
The gun barrel jammed harder into her ribs. “No, you did.”
She gasped. “I had nothing to do with it. You can’t blame that on me.” She shoved her face into his, ignoring the gun barrel’s pressure against her ribs. “Besides, it’s because of me that you and your wife were rescued.”
He glared right back at her. “I needed Susan’s bag. The one the kidnappers grabbed. If we’d been able to keep it with us, she’d be alive right now.”
She thought about it. “You knew the drugs were in there.”
“Of course. It went everywhere with us. Until the kidnapping,” he said bitterly.
“But then why do you want it now? And why send it to me?” She motioned to the box. “What difference does it make now? She’s dead.”
“But I’m not,” he spat. “And I have the same damn disease.”
“Oh, no!” She stared at him in horror. “Why aren’t you getting help then?”
“Have you any idea what that costs? It’s not tens of thousands of dollars but hundreds for the treatment. And we don’t have any health insurance. We spent the last decade traveling around the world helping people. Keeping everyone else alive. When it came to getting help for ourselves, nobody would cover us. Susan was already sick, and I was showing signs. No insurance company would give us the coverage for pre-existing conditions, for the medicine we needed to keep ourselves alive so we could continue to help others. When it came down to it, nobody cared,” he said bitterly. “There’s only one treatment, and it was made in Europe. Damn expensive and hard to get a hold of, but I kept digging and digging. Finally I understood how to make it. I have a degree in chemistry and enough knowledge of the body and its systems to create my own. It took several tries, but we had nothing to lose. We were dying anyway. Finally, I found the one that worked. We knew it was no cure, but it slowed the progression.” He shrugged. “That was as much as we could hope for. We were looking at having another thirty-plus years this way.”