My Novel: Chapter 18

Running:

Great run: the day the wind whipped autumn leaves along my path, making it look like golden rain.

Writing:

Great writing tip: Hook the reader. That sounds easy, but if you like fishing you learn that even though you caught your limit at the lake last week, there's no guarantee you'll get more than a nibble this week. With the novel you're reading, chapter 2 originally started my book. My writing group hated that chapter. It was dull, they informed me. Who cares about a lady taking out trash? Boring! It took weeks for me to come up with Natalie's capture and to get it close enough to perfect to share so my group wouldn't rip it completely apart. (Yeah, right!) They didn't like aspects of the new chapter (no one likes everything, and some people like nothing!). But they all liked the new hook much better. A few got sidetracked and wanted Natalie to star, but I refused. I had my reasons, and until we got further into the book, they wouldn't understand why... You could be in that group too.

 Hey! Where are you going? You haven't finished reading my book yet! Come back here!

Oh yeah, I remember now. Not everyone likes the same genre or writing style. Stick around only if you're enjoying this or learning something like good writing techniques or what you ought to avoid.

Secrets at Midnight

Leona Palmer Haag

Chapter 18

Jenn leaned across the desk and peered at the computer screen, reading, 'Washington Case.' Adjusting Katie as she lay against her shoulder, she settled before the laptop. Hitting enter, she stared at a picture of herself holding Katie that had been taken at least three months earlier while Matt and Monica had been at her home for dinner. She read the words, “JennaLynn Langsford Washington and Katie Shalese Washington. She pressed enter and began reading about Monday night in detail.

“This is bizarre,” she whispered as she soaked in Matt's description of calling Nick after leaving her alone inside. She was fascinated with Kevin Curtis's analysis. Matt either had an excellent imagination and thought she was extremely gullible—or it was true.

Details marched across the screen—with a twist—Matt’s perspective. Their trip through Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Colorado and now Utah paraded before her right down to the dollar amount and gas station fill-ups. The file ended with Katie’s fever and the decision to stay another night. Then photos appeared. She studied the first face, but didn't recognize the man as anyone they’d seen on their fast paced trip. The second face belonged to another stranger. Was Matt taking pictures of sales clerks, gas station clerks and random people along the way? And why couldn’t she recognize them? She studied the face staring at her closer. No recognition came—none whatsoever. She clicked to the next, then the next, memorizing each detail in the faces and trying to place them somewhere along the path. The woman who commented about Katie being the cutest thing she’d ever seen was missing so far, as well as the creepy looking man who smoked at the edge of one rest stop and couldn’t take his eyes off her and Katie that she’d complained about to Matt. And where was the freckle faced kid and the old woman with the fancy carved cane and the guy that was yelling into his cell phone at one gas station, or the teenager who kept dropping her credit card and swearing?

She looked up when Matt opened the door. He deposited dinner on the table. “It's nice out there tonight. If Katie's up to it let’s go for a stroll and stretch our legs. The stars are out.” He looked over her shoulder. “Did you make any revisions to the report?”

“No, but I need to. It was the woman's left wrist.”

“You sure?”

She shrugged and turned the laptop away and picked up the DVD's he’d brought. One might interest Katie. The chick-flick would entertain her. She turned on the TV and started Katie’s, then opened the dinner bag and pulled out the contents. Matt sat across from her and watched her distribute food. “Did you go through all the photos?”

“Maybe a dozen or so. Who are these people, and are they important?”

“They’re just people. Did you see the one of Monica in the Bahamas?”

“Do I want to?” She bit her tongue before anything more came out. Hadn’t she apologized over Monica enough today?

He chuckled. “It's good for blackmail. One of the agents caught her off guard, which is maybe a first.”

She glanced at him, then concentrated on her dinner and keeping Katie from spreading chicken dipping sauce everywhere. Matt attacked his meal like he’d just ended a long fast. He was nearly finished when he said, “If I remember correctly there are two or three photos of Nick. One is probably good enough to frame and hang in your living room. Check it out.”

After eating Jenn cleared away Styrofoam containers before casually pulling the laptop over to peruse photos, quickly clicking through them and ignoring details to find Nick. Monica popped on the screen and she released the mouse, laughing. “What is she doing?” She leaned in for a better look.

Matt crossed the room and stood behind her. “You found it. She’s picking something out of her teeth. Appetizing, huh? How do you like the cross-eyed look?”

Jenn glanced up, finding a wide smile across his face. “Has she seen this?”

“Am I crazy? She'd destroy my laptop, burn down the office in case I had a backup copy somewhere, and the agent behind the camera would be massacred.”

“Painfully,” Jenn agreed with a laugh. “This is worth thousands of dollars. I’ll give you ten. Bring me my purse and then email it to me.”

“Sorry. Offer me millions,” he joked.

The next several pictures were of strangers, and she had no problem quickly skipping past them. Nick popped up—a breathtaking photo—but perhaps only to her. To anyone else he might look average, but he was hers and she missed him.

“There's a better one in there,” Matt said, waving his hand to encourage her on.

Jenn reluctantly returned to reality and clicked through pictures, hardly seeing anyone until Nick appeared again. She stopped. “I want a copy of this one.”

“I'll get it for you.”

Tears blurred her vision. “I miss him. He’s been gone so long.”

Matt rubbed her shoulders. “We'll get him home soon.”

It took forever, but she moved to the next photo. Up popped Monica—looking normal—glamour beyond exquisite. “She looks like a secretary,” she said, testing Matt.

He sat behind her on the sofa arm. “Yeah, in some fancy corporate office.”

“She probably just tells you she's a secret agent.”

He laughed and slid down to a cushion. “It was in her sleep.”

A few photos later Jenn stopped. “Kathleen Worthins?”

Matt jumped up and leaned over her shoulder. “Kathleen? You know her? How?”

“Just who she is. I met her during one of those rare times when your wife successfully convinced me to go to lunch with her. A few days later Kathleen brought her little boy to Daisy's to check out the center. He's adorable.”

 He straightened up, a thoughtful look on his face. “How long ago was that?”

She shrugged as she clicked to the next photo. “Maybe two weeks. On a Friday. Actually it’s been more like three weeks now. Do you know her?”

“We've met,” he softly replied.

That made sense. She skimmed several photos—generic looking shots of no one she'd ever seen—then stopped. “The Ambassador Cable Company man? Why do you have his picture in here? Is he an undercover agent? Was he sent over to make sure I'm okay? Should I suspect everyone I see works at your office? Who will be next, my hairdresser?” She laughed and clicked to the next photo. Another familiar face filled the screen.

“Linda Jo? Her thighs don't look that big in person. Get a better camera.” She glared at Matt.

He shrugged and pulled a face. “I'll make a note of it and have someone sent out to take a new shot. I’ll delete this one.”

Jenn folded her hands in her lap and waited for him to quit back-pedaling. When he fell silent she said, “Why is there a picture of Linda Jo? Have you got one of Tami and Dawn Ann and everyone else I work with?”

He shrugged. “Check it out. Hopefully you’ll like them better.”

Jenn clicked through several photos before stopping. “Of course you do. That's a good one of Tami. It makes her nose look okay. I hope you had your cameraman take a good one of me because I'm sure I could destroy your laptop at thoroughly as Monica.”

“I guess I'll soon know,” he said, chuckling behind her.

“Hummm,” Jenn appraised when she saw herself. “Next time warn me and I'll wear brown—it makes me look fabulous.” She clicked to the next photo. “Kathleen again? Is she important, or something? I guess you already know her baby's daddy is a professional football player. She didn't tell me who. He sends money and she keeps quiet so his wife doesn't bankrupt him. Remind me to call her when we get back to check if she's still interested in our next vacancy. It would be tough being a single mom, even if he sends child support. Money isn’t everything—even a lot of it.”

Matt absently nodded.

A few photos later Nick appeared and her heart filled with longing. “That's it—now I’m thoroughly homesick. I'm ready to go back now.”

Matt reached out and rubbed her shoulder. “Maybe by Monday or Tuesday.”

Her shoulders sagged. “We could go to Colombia. You packed our passports.”

He gave her shoulder a squeeze and shook his head. “Too far. Do you mind going through the photos again to see if you missed anyone familiar?

This could be as close as she’d get to Nick for a few more days, so she started over, saying, “No, nope, stranger, strange, never seen him, don't know her,” one photo after another. Only Nick, Monica, Kevin, Marshall, the cable man, herself, Matt, Kathleen, and her work friends were familiar—along with two people she thought looked vaguely familiar, but had no name for. “Who are all these people?” she asked when finished.

Matt took the mouse from her hand and said, “Good guys and bad guys.”

She studied his face for a minute, seeking humor, clues—anything. “Which are which?”

He shrugged. “It's hard to tell, isn't it? Is Katie up for a walk?” He closed the program and turned off his computer.

While they had looked at photos Katie perked up, turning into a human cyclone and attacking everything not anchored. A bored toddler on pain killers couldn’t get harder to handle. Jenn grabbed her daughter, rescuing the curtains, and pulled her close for a tight hug. “Hey, baby wrecking ball, want to go for a walk?” She clamped her hand on Katie’s wiggling forehead, turning into a mama-bear thermometer.

“Walk!” Katie squealed, trying to wiggle free.

“She's still warm. Feel her,” Jenn said, pushing her daughter toward Matt.

He tested her forehead. “Should we stay here?”

“Walk!” Katie wailed. Her arms and legs flailed.

Matt grabbed the baby, preventing anyone from getting hurt. “Maybe a walk will settle her down.”

The night was perfect for strolling. They found a lawn for Katie to wiggle her toes in, then herded her back and forth across it. She stopped to pick a dandelion. Jenn thought she'd outgrown tasting things, but she hadn't. Katie didn't like the flavor and spit it out without prodding. When Katie tuckered out she plopped down and refused to move. Matt lifted her to his shoulders and they returned to the hotel. As she rode in his arms in the elevator she fell asleep and didn't awaken during diaper changing time.     

Jenn tucked her in bed and took a long shower. Missing Nick consumed her and she whimpered in the warm spray. Each time she thought she had finished moping, another wave of loneliness consumed her. Colombia seemed so far-fetched it was ridiculous picturing her husband there, but certain things added up. Although implausible, Matt's story bordered on real.

Finally she shut the water off. She rubbed lotion into desert-dry skin, wishing for home where she could complain about humidity and worry about tornadoes. But no, she was caught up in a worse storm whirling in a northwestern direction while shredding her heart and a treasured friendship.

Six nightie styles greeted Jenn—from wild and wide, to itty-bitty. She pulled on the sleep pants and knit top. Her long nap that afternoon had pushed sleep away so she curled up in a chair in the shadows of the bedroom and watched Katie, wondering what the test results of her throat culture would be in the morning. There was a tap on the door, and then it pushed open with a chilling click, setting her skin creeping. “Jenn, you asleep?” Matt whispered.

“No.”

His head swung around to find her. “Have you got a spare minute?”

She unstretched her legs and followed him into the other room. He softly shut the French doors behind them and motioned her to the computer.

“More photos?” she asked, viewing the screen.

“Yeah, along with profiles.” With a mouse click the cable man appeared. “Do you remember what day he stopped by?”

Nick’s mug would have been better—inducing a smile instead of boredom. She yawned. “Look in your records, Mr. Spy.” She waved at him to proceed to the next photo.

“We don't have a record.”

For some odd reason a chill trickled down her spine. She shook it off, wishing she’d been in bed faking sleep to escape being freaked out. She gave him a sour look—prepared to shut him down. “Why not? Do you suffer from sloppy bookkeeping because your secretary really isn't one?”

He folded his hands together, interlocking his fingers. “He's on the bad guy list. What did he say and what did you tell him?”

Interrogation—fright style. It looked like there wasn’t anything Matt wouldn’t stoop to. She released a tired sigh. “Do we have to do this?”

He waited several long seconds, then shrugged. “I guess it could wait until morning.” But he didn’t move. Finally he said, “But, it would help to get it over with now.”

She sighed, then pushed her mind back to retrieve the memory. Bits and pieces flashed back, combining to make a whole. Her hands grew clammy and her throat dried as tiny details became significant. “I—I–he said something like, 'your husband called and said you're getting a lousy picture. They sent me to check it out.' He held out his badge to read his name. Thomas Johnson. I told him our picture was fine. He said something like, ‘They said your husband's been having problems with the golf channel. Last night it didn't come in clear.'” She stopped and put her hand over her mouth and moaned. “Matt, I made a mistake.”

“Why? What happened?”

“I told him my husband was out of town. He had the wrong address.”

His fingers unlocked. “When was that?”

“Last Thursday.” Her heart pounded. “Is Nick in danger because I told the cable guy he wasn't home?”

Running his hand through his hair, Matt shook his head. “I don't know. What happened next?”

“He said, 'Is this the Wilson's?' and I said, 'Two doors down.' He apologized and left. That was it.” Hysteria pushed and pulled, trying to overcome her. “Is Nick in trouble because of me?”

Matt grasped her hand and reduced her shaking. “No. It’s okay, Jenn.”

She shook her head, feeling pending disaster. She blinked tears, unable to believe his words. A generic okay never helped. She bit her lip, but it continued trembling.

He pulled her chin up so her eyes could focus on his. “He's in trouble because of his career choice. He's been in trouble ever since he signed his name and took an oath. Me too. Monica as well. That's our decision. I'm sure he's okay. He's smart. He's in hiding. He'll be fine.”

She drew in a deep breath, wanting to believe. “Do you think the cable guy was casing my home? Was he checking to see if Nick was gone?” Her last words exited like a wail captured on a shrill breeze.

He shook his head, not signaling no, but more likely that he had no idea—an impossible way to calm brewing fears. He released his grip and she hugged herself to prevent falling apart.

With a mouse click, Kathleen's picture appeared. “You called her Kathleen, but her real name isn’t Kathleen and she doesn't have a baby. Tell me what you know about her.”

Jenn’s head swam. Reality bumped so hard against her skull she thought she might shatter from the inside out. She turned back to the computer and examined the incredibly beautiful woman, her slender form exquisitely draped and accessorized with more glitter than Monica wore—if that was possible. Her rich auburn hair fell nearly to her waist and her hazel eyes smoldered. She remembered Kathleen’s shoes—platforms so high an ordinary person would fall off, but she had grace as the heels clicked on the tile floor in the restaurant and then again through Daisy’s Day Care. “I’ve told you everything, except what she ate for lunch.”

“Her name is Natalie Holtz. She's one of our best agents. She's based out of Miami.” He waved at the computer. “Half of these faces are of agents or staff.” He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “Natalie is in Colombia. She hasn't been in Dallas for months. You've never met her.”

Jenn swiveled back to the face on the screen, scrutinizing it deeper. There was no mistake. She turned to him, eyes flashing. “Your sweet wife introduced us. She said Kathleen was looking for day care, so I invited her to tour Daisy's. Two days later she stopped by with her cute little curly-haired son, James. I personally gave her a tour. James loved it and Kathleen said she’d consider us.”

First Matt studied her, then the photo. “Are you sure it's the same person?” He jerked his head toward the computer. “A lot of people have look-alike's.”

Tension rippled along Jenn’s back. “Someone like that? I highly doubt it. Tell me why a cable guy who is really a bad guy wanted to check out my TV, why your best agent toured my work, and why a dead body was dumped behind my trash can.”

Drumming his fist on his thigh several times, Matt obviously matched her stress. “I would if I could.” Silence filled the room before he grabbed the computer and hastily typed commands.

“While you're at it, tell me why she's—“ Jenn jabbed at the computer, “Why Kathleen—or whatever her name is—is in Colombia with my husband!”

He angrily replied, “You just told me she isn't.”

Jenn flinched back in her seat, assaulted by his tone, something she’d never experienced—aside from when she’d argued with him as a kid, which hadn’t been in years. His fingers pounded computer keys as his jaw clenched. She shoved her head over his shoulder, finding scrambled letters again. Was he talking to someone or trying to keep up a twisted façade? She inched away and picked up his cell phone and carefully turned away and opened it. She scrolled down until she reached Nick's name, and pushed the tiny green light and put it to her ear.

Nick’s voice mail picked up and his voice simply said, “Leave a message.” After the beep Jenn whispered, “I miss you, Nick. Please come home soon. I'm in Salt Lake City, but should be home tomorrow. Matt is….” She looked up and met Matt's amused stare. He reached out and took the phone and closed it.

“Why did you do that?” she screamed, jumping up and lunging for it.

He fell backward on the sofa and pushed his laptop to the desk, scrambling to dodge her. “Go pack,” he said as she clawed at his arm for the phone he’d fisted. “We should have been in Portland by now. We're running late and we’re low on time.”

She lunged for the phone again, missing it, but rammed her elbow into his chest and loved the gush of air he exhaled. After a struggle, she gave up and pulled herself off him. Sitting back on her heels, she rested her head on a sofa cushion. “Katie may need medicine. We'll fly to Dallas in the morning.” She looked up and met his gaze.

He rolled to his side and rose to his knees. He faced her, panting, one finger wagging inches from her nose. “We're not flying anywhere.”

She pushed his hand aside. “I used to like you, but of course, that was before you kidnapped me and refused to let me call for help.” She jumped up and towered over him. “Now you're a wanted man. A criminal. You hid the body behind my trash and made up all the crazy detective, undercover, Homeland Security, FBI, CIA, cop, spy, secret agent stuff to make me believe I’m in danger.”

He pulled himself up and faced her, rubbing his ribs. Before he could comment she said, “Busted. Your charade is over. Game ended.”

“Jenn, what you’re charging me with isn’t true.”

Stepping forward, she frowned. “Shut up and listen to me because I'm not finished.” She shoved her face as close to his as she could, given their height difference. “Matthew Willard Jensen, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. Shawn said you graduated top of your class from the police academy and had a promising career, but look at you now. You quit to sell life insurance, but you want to be a cop again so much you’re deluded. You need to get in touch with reality.”

She spun away and marched to the French doors and dramatically shoved them open. She stopped and slowly turned back and faced the shocked-into-silence man behind her. “And don't dream of coming through these doors. I'll come out tomorrow when I'm good and ready and you'll take Katie and me to the airport and put us on a plane to Dallas. Got that?”

He stood motionless, but she imagined his jaw hit the carpet.

“I'll take that as a yes.” She left him, firmly clicking the doors shut behind her.

End Chapter 18