See No More

by W B Dineen

  My mom brings in a cup of coffee and sits on the bed next to me. “Morning, sunshine.”

  I take her offering and smile. “Morning, Mom. How’d you sleep?”

  “Really well, honey, thanks.” Then she sighs. “This has to be incredibly hard on you. I’m sorry you got involved in this mess.”

  “I’m not,” I answer honestly. “A big part of my life has been on hold since Dad left.” I confess, “I rarely date, I don’t have a lot of friends. I work. Work is the only thing that gets me up in the morning. Now that I know Dad’s alive, maybe once this is all over, I’ll be able to embrace life and really live it.”

  My mom nods her head. “We were dealt a crappy hand, that’s for sure.”

  “Mom, do you love Chuck?” I take a slow sip from my mug.

  She smiles sadly. “I’ve grown to love him. He’s a good man, and an honest one. He’s always done his best by us.”

  “Why didn’t you and Chuck ever have kids together?”

  She stares out the window. “Children are the ultimate symbol of commitment between two people who love each other. I already committed that way to your dad. Being that Theo was still alive, creating a family with another man would have been a horrible betrayal to him. So, I made sure Chuck knew I didn’t want any more kids when I agreed to marry him.”

  “Mom, would you leave Chuck if Dad could come home, or would you ever go and join Dad wherever he goes?”

  My mom’s quiet for a long time before she answers, “I used to think I wouldn’t because leaving Chuck would mean hurting Jen. I’d already watched you go through that kind of heartache, and I’d never willingly inflict that pain on one of my girls. But now that you’re both grown, now that we’re facing our mortality in the most immediate way, I wonder.” She tilts her head, “It would be a terrible thing to do to Chuck. He’s never done anything but love and care for us all.” She blows out a breath. “I don’t know, honey. All I know is that if we get through this alive, something has to change. I can’t keep living this in-between kind of existence.”

  I think of the song Mom listened to ad nauseam all those summers ago. Ever since Dad left, she’s been looking for her happy ending, and even now, she might turn her back on it to keep from hurting someone else. How in the world did I ever think this woman was weak?

  CHAPTER 34

  Paseo Colorado was built the year I turned sixteen. As a result, I spent much of my free-time during high school hanging out here with my friends. It’s the ultimate outdoor California shopping mall with everything a kid needs: a movie theater, Cold Stone Creamery, and P.F. Chang’s, along with an abundant assortment of clothing stores. It’s laid out in a series of courtyards and sitting areas with a smattering of small kiosks scattered throughout.

  Meeting Brittany here makes me feel right at home and really old at the same time. I’m not wearing an obvious disguise today. Instead I have my newly dark, much shorter hair, pulled back in a low ponytail and I’m sporting sunglasses with blueish-tinted lenses. My outfit is pretty standard for this time of year: a light green skirt that hits at the knee and a cream-colored twin set. I’m carrying a large mint-green canvas bag with poodles driving Vespas on it. That’s what I get for letting my mom do my shopping.

  I spot Brit before she sees me. I walk by her several times and stroll into stores in the vicinity, seemingly engrossed in tableware, tennis shoes, and hammock swings before I follow her into Tommy Bahama. I don’t think she’s being tailed, but that means nothing. I didn’t think Jake and I had been followed and someone blew up Einstein’s Cave right after we were there. Seriously, the CIA, KGB, NSA, Dr. No, or whoever the hell is after us could be playing the “Star-Spangled Banner" in a big brass band right in front of me and I’d be none the wiser.

  I head toward the dressing rooms, when at the last minute I realize I haven’t picked up anything to try on. I grab two shirts and a pair of Bermuda shorts before following Brittany into a changing room. She nearly screams when she sees me, as she doesn’t recognize my interesting new look. I quickly take off my glasses, so she can tell it’s me.

  As soon as I shut the door, I hand her a note that says, “Brit, I desperately need your help, but I can’t guarantee your safety.”

  She reads it and whispers, “I’m going to need more than that. What do you want me to do?”

  I murmur, “Meet me at P.F Chang’s in an hour and I’ll tell you. The reservation is under the last name Anderson.” Then I walk out. I buy the shorts and two t-shirts without trying them on first and proceed to stroll around the mall to kill time before going to the restaurant. I start at DSW where I try on and purchase a good pair of running shoes. I have a feeling they might come in handy.

  My parents and Jake are meeting us for lunch, as well, but they’re arriving separately. We chose the location and the time purposefully. The restaurant is not brightly lit, which will make it harder to identify any of us, and not many people eat here right at opening time, which means we can be extra aware of anyone who follows us in or appears too interested in our conversation.

  I’m the first one to arrive, so I order sparkling water and appetizers. Brittany shows up at the same time as Jake, and I see her checking him out with obvious interest. My assistant seems surprised when they stop at the same table. She addresses me, “I didn’t know we were meeting anyone else.”

  Jake pulls out a chair for her and responds, “Two more people will be joining us, as well.”

  When they’re seated, I reach over and squeeze my employee’s hand. “Thanks for coming.”

  She places a napkin in her lap and reaches for an egg roll. “What’s going on? What do you need me to do?”

  I look at the clock and realize my parents are already ten minutes late, so I explain. “I’m mixed up in something that I can’t talk about. All I can say is that it involves national security.”

  Brit raises an eyebrow in question when Jake adds, “More than that, it involves global security.”

  I can tell her interest has been piqued. “What do you want me to do?”

  “You need to pack three different outfits in a backpack and go to the Caltech campus. I have a map for you.”

  Once I give it to her, she opens it up. “And then what?”

  I hand her three envelopes with different names written on the front. “I’ve numbered and circled your stops and put the initials of the person who gets which envelope.” I explain, “In between deliveries you have to go to the closest marked restroom and change clothes. Alter your speech pattern and some of your mannerisms. Like, you can limp to one delivery, jog to the next, that kind of thing.”

  Jake interjects, “You need to be different enough that if the recipients ever got together and described you, they’d all come up with different images.”

  “And when I’m done?” she asks.

  I answer, “Go home and forget this ever happened.” My parents still haven’t shown up, and I’m getting worried. “Brit, my house, my office, along with corresponding telephones are being watched and bugged. I’m sure my sister’s phone is tapped, as well.”

  She looks truly alarmed once I tell her that. But I continue, “I need Jenny to know that I might not be able to come back to my life.”

  “Holy shit, you really are in trouble, aren’t you?”

  I nod my head slowly as though it weighs a hundred pounds. “I am. I need you to tell her the mortgage and all the bills are on autopay. If I can’t come home, I’ll find a way to transfer the house into her name. Just don’t call her from the phone at our office, and don’t call her on her cell. Use her work number.”

  Brittany leaves, promising to be in touch as soon as the letters are delivered tomorrow. I give her a big hug and say a silent prayer she’ll be safe and that I haven’t just thrown her to the wolves.

  Neither Jake nor I are very hungry, so he lays some money down on the table for the bill. Then puts his arm around me.

  “Jake, why didn’t my parents show up? Where do you think they a
re?”

  He shakes his head. “I have no idea. Let’s just get ourselves safely home and hope they’re waiting for us.”

  “And if they’re not?”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “I’m not sure, Kate. All I know is that something big is coming, and I hope to hell we don’t have to face it without your dad.”

  CHAPTER 35

  My parents aren’t at the house when we get there, and neither is Buddy. The weird thing is the Honda isn’t in the driveway, either. They said they were going to take the bus, so the car should have been here. It’s eerily quiet as we walk through the front door. Jake does a quick sweep to make sure all is as it should be.

  I ask him what he thinks we should do while we wait for them. He suggests taking a walk to the nearest newsstand.

  “Do you think we’re safe walking around out there?”

  “As safe as we are in here,” he responds.

  Not the answer I was hoping for, but we need to do something to pass the time, so I change into my new shorts and one of the t-shirts. While I’m strapping on my running shoes, Jake walks in. He’s taken a quick shower to get the gel out of his hair and he looks remarkably like he did in Oregon.

  “Why do you get to look normal and I have to keep my horrible hair?” I demand.

  “Because I look like five out of ten guys my age here. There’s nothing exceptional about how I look.”

  I beg to differ and think he might be fishing for a compliment, but I don’t give it to him. Instead, I ask, “What paper are you looking for at the newsstand?”

  “Whatever jumps out at me.” Then he grabs his keys. “Come on, let’s go.”

  I didn’t spend much time in this neighborhood as a kid, but I still manage to act as tour guide, sharing which houses we pass were in what blockbuster movies in the last twenty years. Southern California is pretty much one big movie set. You regularly see signs posted for different productions along with corresponding traffic cones, and police officers cordoning off streets to keep the lookie-loos away. Even though I grew up here, I still get a thrill when I see this stuff.

  Jake eyes one particularly impressive estate. “Wow, we don’t have houses like this in Oregon.”

  I disagree, “I’ve seen some pretty gorgeous homes in Albany.”

  Without blinking an eye, he reaches over and takes my hand. “Oh sure, we have those amazing Victorians. I mean we don’t have these huge old Spanish and mission-style mansions. Also, people here seem to be big on living behind gates.”

  He’s right, Southern Californians with money do like to be exclusive. I can imagine Oregonians with cash to burn would probably invest it in land and animals. They seem to be a much more practical lot.

  By the time we hit the corner of Allen and Washington, the excitement of the morning begins to slip away. There’s a newsstand kitty-corner to us, and we proceed cautiously. Jake grabs a Time magazine along with an LA Times and Washington Post. I pick up a People Magazine for pure unadulterated escapism.

  On our way back to the house, we run into Buddy. Neither of my parents is with him, so we turn onto a quiet side street, and Jake pulls out his wallet. He retrieves a piece of paper with the phone number of my dad’s most recent disposable phone. He punches it in and lets it ring five times before ending the call. He immediately calls back and lets it ring two more times before hanging up.

  We’ve previously decided not to use our phones to contact one another unless it’s an emergency. While disposable phones ought to be safe, there are no guarantees, and we want to keep our technological footprint to a minimum.

  Even though we’re in crisis mode, I’m enjoying spending time with Jake. We share companionable silence as easily as small talk. That’s a rare quality, as most people seem to require constant chatter with those they don’t know well.

  Jake puts his phone in his jacket pocket, and we continue to hike the side streets with Buddy while we wait for my dad’s return call. There’s still no word from my parents by the time we reach the entrance to Eaton Canyon, at the base of the San Gabriel Mountains. So, we find a couple of big rocks to sit on.

  I flip through People and scan the latest Hollywood news, while Jake pours through his assortment of periodicals. I’m too distracted to focus on the article I’m reading. Instead, I peek over the paper and stare at Jake. He’s a nice distraction and I wonder if he and I might actually have a future together. Of course, we both have to stay alive for that to happen and I’m starting to think the chances of that occurring are pretty slim.

  CHAPTER 36

  An hour after placing the call to my dad, we still haven’t heard from him. So, we head to the house to see if they’ve come back. We’re uncommonly quiet as we trek down Altadena Drive toward Allen, both of us lost in our own thoughts and concerns.

  As we approach the rental house, Jake instructs, “We’re going to stroll by casually, like we live in the neighborhood. Don’t look at the house. When we get to the next corner, we’ll cross the street and come back up the hill. I’ll look, but you keep your eyes straight ahead.”

  “Why don’t I get to look?”

  “Because you don’t know what to look for, and I do.” He adds, “Also, because we’re an ordinary couple taking our dog for a walk with no real interest in anything but our conversation.”

  “Fine,” I concede.

  We walk right by the house, neither of us so much as glancing at it. On the way back, Jake peeks over. “Okay, not what I was expecting to see.”

  “What?” I demand.

  “The car is back, but the welcome mat has been turned over.”

  I have no idea what that means and say as much.

  “When the welcome mat is turned over, it means someone is home, but we shouldn’t go in.”

  “My parents are there?”

  “Either that or someone knows our signal and is trying to warn us away. My money is on your folks, though.”

  “What do we do now?”

  He pushes his sunglasses on top of his head. “Let’s see if the people who own the property abutting the backyard of this house are home.”

  “Good idea.”

  We walk back up to Altadena Drive and figure out which house that is. When we spot it and don’t see any cars in the driveway, we continue into their backyard. There’s a retaining wall between their property and the one we’re renting, so we’re able to hide behind it and peek over.

  We can see through the french doors into the dining room where my parents are sitting at the table. Both have their attention focused on something going on in the living room, which we can’t see.

  Jake whispers, “Keep your head down.”

  I snap, “No way! I have as much right to know what’s happening as you do.”

  I can see him roll his eyes even though he’s not looking at me. Seconds later, an older man paces in front of the dining room window. He looks like he’s in his late sixties and balding. He’s wearing glasses and has a pocket-protector in the pocket of his polo-style shirt. He seems about as menacing as someone’s pet gerbil.

  Jake asks, “Have you ever seen that man?”

  I’m about to say no, when I realize he does look kind of familiar. Then he turns his head and I view him in full profile. That’s when it hits me. “I think he’s one of the professors from Caltech who used to visit us after my dad left. It’s hard to say for certain. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him.”

  “I wonder how your parents came to be in contact with him.” Then he adds, “And why they brought him to our safe house.”

  I have no answer, but I have plenty of questions. “What do we do now?”

  “I guess we wait until he leaves, and your parents turn the welcome mat over again.”

  Neither of us has any idea how long that’s going to take. We worry the neighbors will call the cops on us if they see two strangers and a dog loitering in the neighborhood for too long.

  Finally, Jake suggests, “Let’s hop the wall behind the garage and hang out t
here. At least we’ll be on our own property.” The only problem with his suggestion is that our view will be seriously diminished. Homes built in the thirties, like this one, did not have the garage attached to the main dwelling. They were generally located some distance behind.

  Once we’re situated, the only thing we can see is the view down the expanse of the driveway. As we wait, I listen to the birds singing and realize it sounds a lot like the music Trina gave to me in Albany. Which makes me wonder again who she is and what she has to do with my dad.

  CHAPTER 37

  It’s dark out and no one has left yet. Finally, Jake sneaks up the driveway to see if the mat has been turned over. I want to go with him, but I need to go to the bathroom badly. I’m liable to wet myself if I’m jostled or startled in any way. I decide to let him go alone so I can relieve myself behind a garbage can. Classy, I know.

  As Jake hikes up the drive, I see an avocado fall off a tree in front of him. Right there is where I would have lost control of my bladder. Jake seems nonplussed and keeps going. He clings to the side of the house, then crouches down under the window before turning the corner toward the front door.

  Long minutes pass, and he doesn’t come back for me. I finally do my business before I’m past the point of no return. Just as I finish, I hear my mom whisper-yell, “Kate, are you out here?”

  I sneak a peek around the garage and see she’s alone before answering, “Right here, Mom.”

  She follows my voice and I stand up. She motions with her hand. “You can come in now.”

  “What in the world was going on in there? Why didn’t you show up at lunch?” I demand.

  “Shush,” she admonishes. “We’ll tell you everything inside.”

  We go in through the back door into the kitchen. I can hear Jake and my dad talking. When we walk through the swinging door that connects the kitchen to the dining room, I see they’re not alone. The man, who was talking to my parents earlier, is now lying stone still on one of the couches in the living room. He’s either sleeping or dead.