Election Eve

I am watching Monday Night Football and trying to work on my NaNoWriMo novel. And, okay, maybe I'm procrastinating just a little bit.

Here is the first paragraph of the novel in progress:

The Trinità dei Monti was empty. That’s not true. There were no other people in the church. Beginnings are difficult. Let me try to be more precise. I’ve waited a very long time to tell this story, my precious reader, and I hope you will be a little patient with me. When I was alive I fancied myself something of a storyteller but that faculty seems to have gone the way of flesh and bone and now I have a story but no tongue to tell it.

Chapter Sixty-Five

Harold was awakened from a deep sleep by Fanny thrashing about in her sleep. She was turning her head from one side to the other and flailing at something with her fists. “Fanny. Wake up, honey. You’re having a bad dream.” He put his arms around her and tried to hold her still. “It’s all right, Fanny. You’re safe.”

“Harold. It was awful.”

“It was just a dream. Close your eyes and go back to sleep. I’m right here.”

“No, Harold. It wasn’t a dream. It was real. I saw it.”

“What did you see, Fanny?” He knew what she was going to say, but for some reason he needed to hear it from her.

“I was asleep on the sofa in that tattoo parlor. Something woke me. I checked my watch. It was about 3:00. I’d been asleep for a few hours. I remember I felt like I needed to get to a telephone and call you could come and pick me up. I wanted you to go with me to the police to report my…” She hesitated. “…to report the abduction.”

“Fanny. Are you sure you want to go on? You don’t have to do this now?”

“Yes, I do, Harold. I pushed back the curtain. The red haired woman was in the back of the shop talking to a man. I only saw him from the back. Suddenly I saw the man lift his arm. He was holding a knife. I saw him plunge the knife into her face. After that, it’s all a blank. The next thing I remember is standing over her with that knife in my hand.”

“Tomorrow you can tell the police what you’ve remembered, but right now you need to sleep.”

Fanny closed her eyes. In a few minutes her breathing slowed to a steady rhythm. Harold had slept next to her long enough to know she was asleep. He’d lain next to her many nights, battling insomnia, envying the ease with which his wife fell asleep. He lay there a long time, just listening to her breathe. But he no longer envied her. She had lived through a lifetime of nightmares in the past three days.

Meanwhile forty miles away in Great Falls, Virginia, Bonnie Jaffe had woken up to a real life nightmare. She’d had the presence of mind to mumble “Sorry you’ve got the wrong number” before bolting out of bed and racing through the open door of the bedroom. When she reached the top of the stairs she heard the footsteps of her pursuer. In the seconds it took her to descend the stairs the realization formed in her brain that whoever it was had probably been lurking in the closet the whole time. Just has her hand grasped the knob of the front door she felt the blade of a knife press against her throat.

Chapter Sixty-Four

Stuart Jaffe was silent during the short ride from the Fifth District Station to the Fairfax County Adult Detention Center where he was placed fingerprinted and photographed. “Remove your shirt, please. The young officer removed the camera from the tripod and walked across the room. “Turn to your right please.”

Jaffe realized he was taking close up photographs of the tattoo on his left shoulder.

“Hold still, Senator. We’re almost done.” He took a few more pictures, checked the monitor and returned the camera to the table. “Okay, sir. You can put your shirt on. We’re done.”

Another officer came in and took him to a private holding cell. “Normally you’d be required to wear a pair of orange coveralls, but since you’re a Senator they’re letting you wear your own clothes. You’ll have to give me your belt and shoelaces however.”

Jaffe looked up at the grinning, round-faced officer. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-two. He was probably going to enjoy telling all his buddies how he locked up a United States Senator. Jaffe remove his laces and his belt and handed them over. He still hadn’t uttered a word - not since Jacoby had told him about his wife’s visit.

At that moment Jacoby and Barry Jones were waiting impatiently for the photographer to email Jones the pictures he had taken of Jaffe’s tattoo. Jones was holding photo of the dead girl’s body, waiting to compare her tattoo to the one on Jaffe’s shoulder. Jones’ computer beeped, indicating the file had been received.

“Moment of truth.” “Jones clicked on the attachment and the two men waited while the image of a tattoo slowly opened up on the screen. “What in the hell is that?”

“It’s an eagle, Barry. I am going to kill Ellis.”

“Not so fast, Jacoby. What’s that?”

Jacoby watched as Jones zoomed in on the bottom right hand corner of the tattoo. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Jacoby, but I see a symbol there at the bottom of the tattoo. Like a signature. Does that look like a dog to you?”

Jacoby looked where Jones was pointing. Damn if he wasn’t right. “We need to find out if Dennis Doggett - better known as ‘Dog’ - had a habit of signing his work.”

“I’ll be right back.” Jones left Jacoby to study the tattoo. He found the officer who had taken the photograph still at his computer. “Sam, I wonder if you can do something for me.” He handed him the photograph of the dead girl’s tattoo. “Can you compare that to the picture you just took of Jaffe’s tattoo?”

“Sure, but they’re totally different. What am I looking for?”

“It’s just a hunch, Sam, but I have a feeling that buried somewhere in that eagle, you’ll find a little cherub.”

Jones decided not to share his speculation with Jacoby until he found out whether he was right. When he got back to his office Jacoby was hanging up the phone. He looked concerned.

“Is something the matter?”

“I’m not sure. I just called my office to get someone to check on whether Doggett signed his work and I talked to the guy that took Bonnie Jaffe home.”

“Yeah? She got home okay and he brought the letters back, right?”

Jacoby nodded. “It’s probably nothing but he mentioned something about her thinking the lights were different from the way she left them and the letters weren’t on the desk they were upstairs. I just have a bad feeling in my gut. Bonnie Jaffe isn’t the kind of woman who gets that kind of stuff mixed up. Do you have Jaffe’s home number handy?”

Jones bent over his computer and punched a few keys. “Here it is.”

Jacoby dialed the number. Bonnie Jaffe picked up after two rings. “Hello?” She sounded like she’d been asleep.

“Bonnie. Don’t say anything. Just listen. I want you to get out of the house as fast as you can. I’ll be there as quickly as I can. Just get out of the house.”

Jones look puzzled. “What’s going on?”

“Come on, let’s go. I’ll explain on the way.”

Chapter Sixty-Three

Sunday Morning

It was almost 2:00 AM, but Pete was still awake. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the knife. Despite the fact that his apartment was being watched by two armed officers, he was still anxious. Maybe it was the combination of everything his family had gone through since Thursday. He opened a text book and tried to study but he found himself reading the same paragraph again and again.

He picked up the phone on the first ring. "Hello?" It was his father.

"Did I wake you?"

"No. I was awake. How's Mom?"

"Her long term memory has come back but she's still confused about recent events. That's why I didn't call you earlier. The doctor was here asking her questions and then he tried to explain to me what he thought was going on. I'll admit, most of the time it was like he was talking in another language. Anterograde amnesia. Retrograde amnesia. I'm totally confused. Your mom is resting now. Anyway. How are you doing?"

"I'm okay. Just a little jittery. The police are watching my apartment but they're pretty sure whoever it was is miles away by now."

Harold debated whether he should tell his son he had been face to face with the man who had probably killed Petulengro and Doggett and who knows how many others, but Pete had already put it together.

"I know this is all connected, but I just don't know how. Why did the guy want you to bring Mom down here? "

"I talked to Jerry Benson after the doctor left tonight. He told me the police think the man was Carl Stone. He works for Senator Jaffe. They think Stone killed the woman in the tattoo parlor - the one your mother found. And they think he is worried that she may have seen him there and he wants to be sure she doesn't tell anyone."

Pete could hear the catch in his father's voice. It would have been torture for him realize that someone was planning to kill his wife. After a moment, his father continued. "Stone was spotted here at the hospital earlier today. He ran when he realized he'd been recognized. The police figure that he concluded it was going to be impossible to get to your mom here so he came up with the idea to lure her down there."

Now it was Pete's turn to be overwhelmed. "He was right here. Why did he run away?"

"Jerry figures when he saw Jaffe on the news being taken away in handcuffs he ignored everything but getting back here and saving his boss. The man's a psychopath, Pete. He's irrational. His actions aren't going to make sense."

"You're beginning to sound like a tv profiler, Pop. They haven't taken away the guard at Mom's door, have they?"

"No. In fact they have added one in the lobby and another at the nurses' station up the hall. Plus Mosby Ellis, a friend of the woman your mom found, is still downstairs. He's the one who spotted Stone this afternoon and he's determined to make sure the man who killed his friend behind bars."

"Well, I spent almost two hours looking at him. I'll be seeing his face in my sleep - if I ever sleep. I'm coming up there."

As much as Harold wanted his son to be with him, he knew he was safer there. "No, Pete. Absolutely not. You stay there. I have enough to worry about with your mom."

"What is it you're not telling me, Pop?"

"The doctor thinks that - he could be wrong - but he thinks your mom actually saw Stone stab that woman. He thinks that's the event your mom is blocking out." Harold realized he still hadn't told Pete that his mother had been abducted and almost killed in a car crash. He figured he had enough to worry about. "Just try to get some sleep, Pete. That's what I'm going to do. I'll call you when I know more, okay?"

"Okay, Pop. But just don't keep stuff from me. I'm not a kid anymore."

"Deal. I love you, Son."

"I love you too, Pop."

Harold stood over his wife's bed for a few minutes watching her sleep. She seemed so peaceful. He took off his shoes and crawled in next to her. Within minutes he was sound asleep.

Chapter Sixty-Two

Bonnie Jaffe walked through the front door followed by a uniformed officer. “I don’t remember leaving that light on.”

They came inside and went straight to the Senator’s office. “I left them right here on the desk. Someone has taken them.”

The officer looked at her suspiciously. “You’re quite sure that this is where you left the letters?” He opened and closed the drawers and looked under and around the desk. “They’re not here. Have you checked your purse? Maybe you took them with you without remembering.”

“No. They were right there.”

Carl Stone listened from the guestroom upstairs. He knew that in a few minutes the policeman would leave. Bonnie Jaffe would come upstairs alone after stopping briefly at the bar to pour herself a liberal ration of the Senator’s whiskey. He only had to wait. She’d been to the police. He could imagine what she’d told him. If she’d read the letters – and he was sure that she had – she knew about the Senator’s affair with Victoria Sherwood. Somehow she had managed to connect Sherwood to the murdered girl and she had gone to the police to tell them her husband was a killer. When she came upstairs he’d give her time to finish her drink then he’d kill her. If anyone deserved to die, she did.

“Officer, before your leave, would you walk through the house and make sure he’s not here.” Bonnie Jaffe was worried. The person who took the letters could still be in the house.

The officer wasn’t anxious to get back. Detective Jacoby wasn’t going to be pleased when he showed up without the letters. Not to mention the fact that Mrs. Jaffe seemed genuinely concerned. “Sure. You wait here, Mrs. Jaffe. I’ll take a look around.

As the officer reached the top of the stairs there was a noise from the room on his right. He drew his revolver. “Come out with your hands above your head.”

On the other side of the door Stone cursed silently and looked anxiously around the room for somewhere to hide. He slipped into the closet just as the bedroom door opened. He cursed the Senator’s wife and the cursed himself for being so careless. From his hiding place, he listened as the officer moved about the room.

“Mrs. Jaffe. I told you to stay downstairs.” The bitch must have followed the officer upstairs.

“I was nervous down there by myself. Why do you have your gun drawn?”

“I thought I heard something in here, but it must have been those blinds.” The wind was blowing through the open window causing the wooden blinds to clatter against the sill. He closed the window. “You’ve got me jumpy now.” He left her alone in the guest room and went across the hall to the Senator’s room. He continued until he had checked the whole house.

When he returned, Mrs. Jaffe was sitting on the bed holding the letters. “I feel like an idiot. I must have brought them upstairs with me. They were lying right here on the bed.” She handed the letters to the officer. On the other side of the closet door, Stone bit his lip to keep from cursing out loud. He had been sitting on the bed holding the letters when he’d heard the car doors slam. He must have left them behind when he went to the window to look out.

“I’ve been through the whole house, Mrs. Jaffe. There’s no one here. You’ve had a long day. Why don’t you try to get some sleep? I can see myself out. Good night.”

“Good night, officer. Thank you.”

Bonnie Jaffe heard the front door close. She considered going downstairs for a drink but suddenly she was too tired to move. Too tired even to change into her gown. She slipped off her shoes and turned off the light on the bedside table. The officer was right. It had been a long day.

Chapter Sixty-One

“Harold? Harold what happened? Where I am?”

If he hadn’t been so concerned, Harold would have laughed. Why did amnesiacs always say “Where am I?” He kissed Fanny on the cheek and took her hands in his. “You’re in the hospital, honey. Stay calm.” He buzzed for the nurse.

The room intercom crackled. “How can I help you?”

“My wife is awake. Please let the doctor know. He said he’d be in his office.”

Fanny sat up. “Harold. Why am I in the hospital? My head hurts. Was I in an accident?”

“Yes, honey. But you’re going to be all right. Everything’s going to be all right. How are you feeling other than your head?” He didn’t want to say anything about her loss of memory until the doctor got there.

“I’m hungry. Do you think you could find something for me to eat? And I don’t mean beets and walnuts. I feel like a nice thick steak”

“Of course, I can…” He stopped. “What did you say about beets and walnuts?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve been cheating on your diet? How long have I been in here?” A cloud of distress passed across her face. “Harold, something awful happened.”

Harold noticed that the door had opened and the doctor had come in. “Fanny, this is Dr. Wright. He has been taking care of you.” Fanny looked at the doctor but it was obvious to Harold that she had no idea who he was.

Harold left his wife and walked across the room. He spoke softly to the doctor. “What’s going on? I don’t understand. When she woke up she didn’t know where she was, but she could remember the diet that Dr. Burger prescribed for me.”

The doctor approached the bed. “Fanny, do you know who I am?”

“I know you’re Dr. Wright. I know you’ve been taking care of me. Harold just told me that. But I honestly don’t remember meeting you before. But I have met you, haven’t I?”

“When I came in, Fanny, I heard you say to Harold that something awful had happened. What did you mean by that?”

“I’m not sure. It’s as though there is a separate part of me, and that part is aware of things that this part of me isn’t. I don’t know how to explain it. Doctor, did you ever wake up from a dream and you knew it was a very bad dream even though you couldn’t remember what the dream was actually about? The dream still affects you. It’s like that. Only it wasn’t a dream. I am sure that something awful really did happen.”

“Let’s change the subject, shall we Fanny? This will be easier for you. I am just going to as you a series of questions. Is that all right?”

She nodded. “Yes, doctor.” She patted the bed. “Harold, come here and sit next to me.”

“Okay, Fanny. Can you tell me where you live?”

“I live at 2233 Ingleside Drive in Falls Church. I thought these questions were going to be harder.”

“Where did you go to college?”

“William and Mary.”

The doctor looked at Harold who nodded.

“How many children do you have, Fanny?”

“One son – Peter. He’s in a Post-Baccalaureate Pre-Med Program at U. Va.”

“When did you see your son last?”

“Let me see. It was early August. He left for Charlottesville early to get settled.” She suddenly looked confused. “Wait a minute. It’s happening again.”

“What’s happening, Fanny?

“That awareness I was talking about a moment ago. A vague recollection. It’s got something to do with Peter. Is Peter all right, doctor? Has something happened to Peter?”

“Peter’s fine, Fanny. Nothing has happened to him. But Peter was here earlier today. You talked to him. Try to remember, Fanny. Can you recall talking to your son this morning?”

She closed her eyes tightly and gripped Harold’s hand as though she were trying to tap into her husband’s memories. “I remember waking up in this room. Harold was standing there.”

“Before that, Fanny. What’s the last thing you remember before that? Just lie back and close your eyes. Don’t force yourself. Just tell me the last thing you remember before you woke up a few minutes ago?”

“I remember parking the car in the driveway and walking up to our front door with the groceries. I put the bags down next to the door.”

“Why did you do that? What stopped you from going into the house?”

She looked at Harold guiltily. “I'd bought a candy bar at the checkout counter. It was a pretty morning. I decided to go over to my bench and sit for a while and enjoy my candy bar without having to listen to Arlo barking at me the whole time.”

“Our dog is a little spoiled, doctor.” Harold shook his finger at Fanny. “So you’ve been sneaking candy bars while I’ve been denying myself.”

She smiled. “That was the first one. Honest.” Suddenly her smile faded. The same troubled expression. Harold had seen earlier darkened her face.

“Mrs. Britt. What are you remembering now?”

“A car stopped and a man got out and walked up to me. He said something had happened to Harold and I had to go with him right then. I resisted. The man struck me. I must have lost consciousness. I woke up in the backseat of a car. The man was in the front seat. The car was parked. I didn’t recognize the area. The man was shouting at me. He said I had ruined his life. That his wife had left him and he was going to make me pay.

He started the car. He was driving like a maniac. It was impossible for me to keep my balance because my hands were bound. I was thrown from one side of the car to another. I would have screamed but there was tape across my mouth. I don’t know how long he drove like that. Suddenly, the tires squealed and the car began to spin. The next thing I knew I was waking up in a ditch.” She smiled miserably. “I’ve sure been waking up in some strange placed lately.”

“Did you recognize the man, Fanny?”

She nodded. “After he said that thing about his wife leaving him and how I had ruined his life, I realized it was Abby’s husband. Abby is the woman I sponsor, doctor.” She looked at Harold. “You were right, honey. He was crazy. I should never have gotten involved.”

There was so much that Harold wanted to know. It took all of his restraint to keep himself from disrupting the doctor’s sequence of questions. It was actually Fanny who interrupted. “Doctor, one thing I remember is how hungry I am. I realize it’s late, but I would really like something to eat. I’d told Harold I wanted a steak. I’ll settle for a burger and fries or a couple of slices of pepperoni pizza.”

“I think we can arrange that. I have a couple of more questions but I suppose they can wait. I’m sure the police will have some questions themselves. No need to put you through needless interrogations. I am most curious about what caused your physical and psychological trauma. You had two head injuries. One can be explained by the blow you received initially when you were forced into the vehicle.” Fanny winced as the doctor touched an area on her left temple. “Do you have any idea how you received this injury at the back of your head?”

“It must have gotten it during the crash. I was thrown from the car. I woke up in a ditch. I don’t remember seeing any sign of the wreck but I was just intent on getting away. This is where it starts getting jumbled.”

“That’s enough for now. Harold and I are going to see what we can do about finding you something to eat. If you need anything, just buzz for the nurse. We’ll be right back.” The doctor motioned for Harold to come with him.

When the door had closed behind them the doctor spoke to the guard. "Make sure she is not disturbed. Mr. Britt and I will be right back." When they were some distance away he continued. “I think something else happened after the accident. That’s the only thing that would explain this patchy, erratic recall. People with anterograde amnesia often cannot remember the trauma that caused their memory loss as well as some memories of events just before the trauma. The theory is that this loss of past memories, or retrograde amnesia, occurs because harm to the hippocampus has disrupted the process of consolidation, by which recent memories are gradually transformed into enduring long-term memories. The combination of anterograde amnesia plus partial retrograde amnesia is quite common. Collectively, it's often known as simply ‘amnesia. The symptoms exhibited by your wife cause me to think there were two distinct psychological traumas. I believe the first was the kidnapping and accident. It’s too early for us to speculate about the second.”

“Wouldn’t it be the discovery of the body? Certainly that would qualify as a traumatic event.”

“Your wife strikes me as a resilient woman, Harold. In my opinion it would have required something much more devastating to trigger your wife’s memory loss. If I’m not mistaken, Harold, your wife witnessed the murder.”

Chapter Sixty

“Well we may have solved the Virginia murder, but we still can’t tie Jaffe to the death of Lillian Petulengro.” Chambers reached over and patted Jacoby on the shoulder. “Look at the bright side. You’re going to have the satisfaction of telling Barry Jones you’ve caught his killer.”

“That may have to wait. I doubt whether I’ll have much luck reaching him this late on a Saturday night. He’s probably all tucked in reading the latest issue of Technology for the Law Enforcement Officer”

“You made that up, right?”

Jacoby nodded.

“I thought so. Anyway you’re wrong. Jones heard about what happened at the fundraiser and he’s waiting outside. Shall I have him come in?”

Jacoby wasn’t surprised. Jones was a good cop. He hoped they could work together. If he was going to link Jaffe to the Lillian Petulengro murder he was going to need some help from Jones.

“Jacoby, nice black eye you’ve got there.”

“You ought to see the other guy.” Jacoby got up and walked across the room to shake hands with a grinning Barry Jones. “You realize you’re probably not going to be invited to any more of the Senator’s shindigs, don’t you Barry?”

“I think I'm pretty good at reading ADA’s and judging from the Cheshire Cat grin on Chambers’ face, I don’t think Jaffe's going to be throwing any parties for the next fifteen to twenty years.”

“He’s looking good for your murder, Barry, but I don’t have enough to charge him with mine. And, of course, men like Jaffe have a way of squirming out of tight spots. You still have your work cut out for you.”

“Catch me up.” Jones helped himself to a cup of coffee and sat down.

“We have an angry wife who has identified your Jane Doe as Victoria Sherwood. Ms. Sherwood has been having an affair with the Senator. Mrs. Jaffe found some letters from the deceased to her husband when she went through her husband's desk tonight. I guess something I said to her at the fundraiser must have raised some suspicions.”

“Where is Mrs. Jaffe now?

"After she finished dictating her statement I had one of my guys drive her home. She’s had quite a bit to drink tonight. I also wanted him to pick up those letters. Based on what Mrs. Jaffe said, they make pretty interesting reading.”

“Good idea. Is there anything else? He knew the victim. He didn’t come forward to identify her. He’ll just say he wanted to keep the affair a secret from his wife.”

“Exactly. That’s why it’s critical to your case that we prove that he did more than just fail to admit an affair. He directed Carl Stone to murder an innocent woman because she could tie the Senator to the victim.”

“What about the third murder? The one out in Calvert County? How is that connected to this, Jacoby?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet. Maybe you and I will have a chance to ask the Senator about that.”

“Has he been charged with anything yet?”

“No. What would I charge him with? Taking a punch at an annoying party crasher? Before Mrs. Jaffe showed up, I was about to let him go. Instead, I guess I’ll be releasing him to your custody.”

“Correct. We’re going to be charging him with obstruction. That will give us enough time make our case for the murder of Victoria Sherwood.”

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Victoria had been in love with the Senator since she was fifteen. When she was sixteen she seduced him in the swimming pool of her parent’s home. He’d driven her home. After sitting in the car and talking for a while, she'd invited him inside to say hello to her parents. She’d known her parents weren’t home but he didn’t. She suggested he fix himself a drink. “I’m sure they’ll be back soon. I’m going to have a swim and cool off. I’m just going to run up and change. Make yourself at home.”

She came down ten minutes later wearing the most revealing bikini he’d ever seen. “I lied. My parents are at the Cape for the weekend. Wouldn’t you like to have a swim with me? There’s no harm in that, is there, Senator Jaffe?”

He’d said something foolish like “I won’t tell if you won’t” and in a few minutes he was splashing around in a pool with his daughter’s best friend.

It had continued that way for the next two years until her family moved away. Jaffe had actually been relieved when she was gone. He realized he was taking too many chances. They’d almost been caught several times. Jaffe had almost put Victoria out of his mind when he’d run into her that spring while he was in Philadelphia addressing a group of investment bankers. He hadn’t recognized her at first. “Hello, Senator. It’s hot. Why don’t we have a swim and cool off.”

Victoria was working as an events planner. After she and the Senator resumed their relationship she tried to arrange a reassignment to Washington, DC but it didn’t work out. They saw each other as often as they could. She’d take the Acela down to DC and stay at The Mayflower. She delighted in sending him off-colored cards and long, steamy letters in which she professed her love for him. She never really loved him. She loved the idea of have an affair with a powerful man.

Toward the end it had stopped being fun for both of him. He was preoccupied with the November election. Victoria felt taken for granted and resented the fact that they never went out in public. “Other girls my age get to go to clubs and parties. You never take me anywhere. I want to have some fun, Stuart.”

He began to wonder if she was worth the aggravation. Twice he tried to end the affair but both times he called her and begged her to come down to see him. Both times she came. He had noticed recently that the balance had shifted in their relationship. Victoria had taken control. She became more and more demanding of his time and attention when they were together. At times he reminded him of his wife. A couple of times he actually called her Bonnie by mistake. “I’m not your damn wife, Stu, although sometimes I can understand why she left you. You can be such a selfish bastard. You never think of anyone but yourself. I’m surprised she stayed with you as long as she did.” He clinched his fists to keep from hitting her. He knew if he ever lifted a hand against her he might not stop until it was too late. Best to keep the anger buried deep inside. Anger was an emotion that men in his position couldn’t afford.

He’d learned that lesson as a young boy. Lindsey Jaffe had hidden his emotions. Denied his rage. Stuart had seen it though. He had seen the white patches under his father’s cheek bones, the bulging veins at his temples and the fists clinched against his sides. He’d secretly watched his father stand stock-still while his mother pounded against his bare chest until red whelps formed. She had pummeled him until her rage was spent. When she finally stopped his father had turned without a word and walked calmly out of the room. Stuart never saw his father strike his mother. When his mother had been found beaten to death beside her car at the end of a dirt road Stuart watched as his father organized the search for her killer. He watched as his father wept over her closed coffin and as he was consoled by his friends. They never apprehended the person who killed his mother. But Stuart knew the truth.

The tattoos had been a concession to Victoria’s incessant demands. An attempt to quiet her. It had been a mistake. He resented her more than ever. He was repulsed by the stain on his shoulder. His bitterness against her grew until it turned to revulsion. Now she was gone and he still carried the mark. He’d carry it until he died.

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Traffic had been heavy on Route 29 and it took every bit of Carl Stone’s patience to keep his speed down when he finally merged onto I-66. He knew he couldn’t afford to get pulled over. By now the kid had probably given the police his description and they would be looking for him. His only hope was that no one had tied him to Stuart Jaffe. Maybe he’d made a mistake leaving a witness. It was too late to worry about that now. He had to get back and figure out how to get the Senator out harm’s way.

When he got to the house in Great Falls he drove by the house slowly. The house was dark. The garage door was open and the Navigator wasn’t there. There didn’t appear to be anyone watching the house. He circled through the neighborhood and drove past again to be sure. He was comfortable that there was no one there. He parked his Honda a couple of streets away and walked back to the house and let himself in and turned on the light in the foyer.

He went directly to the Senator’s office. The first thing he noticed was that someone had ransacked the office. The desk had been pried open. A twisted letter opener rested on top of a stack of letters. He picked up the letters. They were all from that woman. Stone couldn’t believe the Senator had saved them. He stuffed the letters in his pocket without reading them. He would destroy them later.

Only a few people could have been in the house and only one would have had the daring to break into the Senator’s desk. Stone hurried upstairs to see in Bonnie Jaffe was still in the house. He looked in the guest room first. The bed had been slept in but there was no sign of Mrs. Jaffe. Stone sat down on the unmade bed and tried to imagine what would have motivated her to rummage around in her husband’s office. He knew he couldn’t avoid the more critical questions. Where was she now and who was she talking to?

Chapter Fifty-Seven

“Nurse, could you call down to the cafeteria and have them let Mr. Britt know that his wife is resting comfortably now. I want to talk to her when she wakes up, but it might be helpful for him to be here when I do.” He glanced at the open laptop on the bedside table. He felt sure that something in that email message must have triggered the reaction. Memory loss was almost always an indicator of a traumatic event, but what made it so difficult to analyze was that the nature of the event was locked in the mind of the patient.

The door opened and Harold Britt came in. “How is she, doctor?”

“Her blood pressure and heart rate have returned to normal and she appears to be resting comfortably now. Do you have any idea why your wife would have had such an extreme reaction to this email?”

“Fanny had been giving Abby advice on a number of thing– including some thorny issues related to her marriage.” Harold could tell that the doctor was puzzled. “Fanny is Abby’s AA sponsor, doctor.”

“I understand. I did see in Fanny’s history that she’d been sober for a number of years. How long has she sponsored Abby?”

“About two years. They met when Abby started going to Fanny’s home group.”

“Did you know Abby’s husband?”

Harold nodded. “He was in the program too. I met him at one of the meetings I go to. Richard had a reputation for being a hot head. I wasn’t comfortable with the idea of Fanny sponsoring Abby. I’d heard a rumor that he’d made some threats against his wife’s previous sponsor.”

“Did you know about the accident?”

“Yes, Abby left a telephone message for Fanny saying that Richard had been killed in a car crash. I didn’t tell Fanny about the call. Abby said she’d told Richard recently that she was going to leave him. She said she thought he was going to kill her.”

“Was your wife acquainted with Richard?”

“No. I don’t think she ever met him. With everything else that has happened, doctor, I just don’t understand why his death – as tragic as it is – would have affected her so severely.” He sat down in the chair next to his wife’s bed. “Oh, Fanny” he whispered. ”I wish you could tell us what happened to you.”

“I think she is trying to tell us, Harold. When she wakes up have the nurse call me immediately, I will be in my office.”

Chapter Fifty-Six

“We want our client released immediately. You know as well as I do you have no reason to hold him.”

Felton Chambers had been waiting in Jacoby’s office when he arrived. Now he was in the next room seated across a table from Jaffe’s attorneys listening, but not responding, to their demands. Jacoby was impressed to find the young Assistant U.S. Attorney waiting for him but frustrated that Jaffe’s attorneys had been there too. Chambers had instructed him to wait in his office while he talked to the two attorneys. “You’ve done your job. Now let me do mine. And, Jacoby, under no circumstances are you to have any contact with Jaffe. Is that understood?”

“Understood.”

“Okay. Looks like you’re going to have a real shiner there. The Senator really got you good, didn’t he? Don’t look so gloomy, Jacoby. We’ve got him just where we want him. Why don’t you go grab yourself a sandwich?”

Jacoby sat at his desk for a while pushing papers around. When he tired of going that he decided to take Chambers advice. He grabbed his coat and headed across the street for a sandwich. When he got back forty-five minutes later Bonnie Jaffe was waiting for him.
“I brought some things for Stuart. Toothbrush and a change of clothes. Is that okay?” Mrs. Jaffe had changed clothes herself. She was wearing an expensive looking knit pantsuit and comfortable looking shoes. The kind of clothes a woman chose when she was going to be traveling.

“Are you heading back to Oregon, Mrs. Jaffe?”

“Yes I am. And I asked you to call me Bonnie. Is it alright if I smoke in here?”

“Be my guest. I just quit a few days ago. After tonight, I may start again.”

Bonnie lit a cigarette and leaned back comfortably in her chair. She didn’t seem to be in any hurry.

“Is there something you want to know, Bonnie? You didn’t come all the way down here to bring your husband a change of clothes and a toothbrush.” She looked like she had recovered from the confrontation at the fundraiser and didn’t appear to be showing the effects of the drinks she had consumed earlier. “You didn’t drive yourself here did you, Bonnie?”

“I hope you’re not planning on arresting me for driving under the influence, Detective. I needed to ask you about the woman you suspect my husband was involved with. What did she look like?”

“She was blonde. In her mid-twenties. Pretty.”

“She took a photograph out of her purse. “Is this the girl?” She handed the picture to him. “The girl in the picture is a friend of my oldest daughter. Her name is Victoria Sherwood – or it was when I knew her. The picture is pretty old. It was taken about six years ago but it’s the only one I could find. Victoria and my daughter were inseparable when they were growing up. Shortly after the girls graduated from high school Victoria’s family moved away. I haven’t seen her since. Is that the girl, Detective Jacoby? Is that the girl that they found?”

“Yes, Bonnie. It’s her. How did you know?”

“I always suspected that my husband had a thing for Victoria. Stuart has a weakness for young girls. When I got home this evening I went through his desk and I found letters from this girl to my husband.”

“Bonnie, is it alright if I keep the picture?”

She nodded sadly. She looked nothing like the animated woman who had flirted with him a few hours earlier.

“I’m sorry to have to put you through this, Bonnie, but I need to have someone come in and take a statement from you. Would that be okay?”

Again, she nodded.

“I’ll be right back.

Jacoby walked next door to where Felton Chambers was still listening to Jaffe’s attorneys express their indignation. “Mr. Chambers, may I have a word with you please? It’s important.”

When he’d closed the door behind himself, Chambers gave Jacoby a wry smile. “Thanks. I needed a break from those two. What’s up?”

“We have an ID on the Virginia murder victim.” He handed the photo to Chambers. “Her name is Victoria Sherwood. I just learned from Mrs. Jaffe that she was an acquaintance of the Senator.”

Chapter Fifty-Five

The nurse had summoned the doctor who arrived in less than thirty minutes. Fanny’s condition had not changed. She hadn’t spoken a word since reading the email from Abby. After examining her briefly the doctor suggested to Harold that he wait in the hallway. “It will just be for a few minutes. I want to keep the surroundings as calm as possible until her brain has an opportunity to process whatever brought the shock on.”

When Harold protested, the doctor was adamant. “I understand your reluctance, Harold, but it will be better for your wife if we let her deal with this without any added strain. You can wait just outside the door.

Harold was pacing up and down the hallway Jerry Benson rushed up to let him know that he’d just heard from his friend at the Charlottesville Police Department. “Pete is safe. The police arrived to find him sitting just outside his front door tied to a kitchen chair.”

“What happened?”

“Apparently Stone showed up at Pete’s apartment about two hours ago. I guess it was Stone. Pete said the guy didn’t identify himself. The intruder placed a call to your home number and left a message instructing you to bring Fanny to Pete’s apartment in Charlottesville – or else.”

“How did Pete escape?”

“He didn’t. He told the police the guy just went nuts when he saw the news story about Senator Jaffe being arrested and ran out of the apartment like his hair was on fire. My guess is it was definitely Stone and when he learned that his boss had been taken into custody he raced off to bust him out of jail.”

“Jaffe was arrested?”

“Of course. You wouldn’t have heard about it. You remember how Jacoby said he was crashing a fundraiser for the Senator this evening? Well ‘crash’ was the operative word. Jaffe got upset and took a couple of swings at Jacoby. The Senator was arrested for assaulting an officer. Stone must have totally freaked when he saw the Senator being hauled away in handcuffs.”

“What do you think Stone is going to do next?”

Benson smiled. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to worry about Pete. His apartment will be watched by Charlottesville’s finest around the clock.”

Harold just shook his head. “I just don’t understand it, Jerry. How did my family sucked into this nightmare?”

“Hopefully it will be over soon. How’s Fanny doing?”

“She’s had a setback. It’s my fault. I let her check her email and there was a disturbing message from a woman she sponsors. It upset her. The doctor is in with her now.”

The stress caught up with Harold all of a sudden and he began to weep. Jerry put an arm around his shoulder and walked him up the hall, away from the guards. “Any man would crack under what you’ve been through the last couple of days. Come on. Let’s go outside for a few minutes. You need some air. You wait here. I’ll let the guards know where we’re going in case there is any change.”

Harold allowed Jerry to walk him to the elevator and watched as he pressed the button for the lobby. When the elevator doors opened, Mosby Ellis greeted them. “I’ve been watching the news. It doesn’t look like they’re going to be able to hold Jaffe. A pack of attorneys has descended on the Fifth District Police Station. Jacoby will be lucky if he doesn’t end up behind bars himself.”

“Don’t underestimate our friend Detective Jacoby. He’ll figure something out. Harold and I are going to grab a coffee. Why don’t you join us?”

“What about Stone?”

“He’s somewhere north of Charlottesville and I doubt very much if he’s going to be showing up here tonight. Come on. You look like you could use a cup of coffee. I know I can.”

Chapter Fifty-Four

Pete tried to push the door closed but Stone forced his way inside and closed it behind himself. “Just back up slowly and take a seat. If you’re a good boy, maybe you’ll live to see your Mom and Dad again. That’s right. Nice and slow.” Without taking his eyes off of him he deftly cut the cord of a nearby lamp and used it to quickly lash Pete to a chair. “Now we’re going to make a call to your father. You’re going to tell him you’ve had an expected visitor who wants to talk to him.” He brought the telephone close to Pete. “What’s your home number?”

“703-968-3187.”

Stone dialed the number and held the receiver to Pete’s ear. Pete heard the phone ringing and then his mother’s voice on the outgoing message. “I’m getting their answering machine.”

Stone put the receiver to his own ear. “Mr. Britt. We’ve never met but I’m sitting here in your son’s apartment and we were thinking how nice it would be if you and Mrs. Britt joined us for a little visit. And Mr. Britt, let’s keep this little visit our little secret, okay? Because if anyone hears about this, it might not be too healthy for young Peter. We’ll be sitting here getting better acquainted while we wait for your call.” Stone hung up the telephone and clicked on the television. “What say we watch a little TV while we’re waiting for your dad to call us back?” He switched the channel to Fox. “Look at that. America’s Most Wanted. My favorite.” For the next forty-five minutes Stone silently watched television while tossing his knife from his left hand to his right. Every now and then he stood up and taunted Pete by bringing the knife closed to his face.

When the Ten O’clock News came on Stone got up and walked over to the telephone. “Guess we better make another call.” He hit redial, and started to bring the phone to his ear. His motion was abruptly stopped by what he saw on the screen. He was watching Senator Jaffe being led out of the ballroom of the Ritz-Carlton. The announcer described the scene. “In a surprise development Senator Stuart Jaffe was taken into custody this evening at a fundraiser in Northern Virginia. His office has had no comment but we have learned that at the time of his arrest, the Senator was being questioned in connection with a series of recent homicides including the gruesome murder of Lillian Petulengro.”

Stone let the telephone drop from his hand and ran from the apartment. Through the open door Pete watched Stone get into his car and speed away toward the highway. Still lashed to the kitchen chair, Pete began to slide himself toward the open door.

Chapter Fifty-Three

“I think you’d better leave, Detective Jacoby.” Jaffe was having a difficult time regaining his composure. The knuckles of the hands that were still gripping his wife arm were white. Beads of perspiration glistened on his forehead.

Jacoby didn’t retreat. “Senator, I will leave as soon as you answer my question. What do you know about the murder of Lillian Petulengro?”

“Answer the man, Stuart. What’s all this about? Why is he asking about tattoos and murders and that detestable dwarf that is always hanging around you?”

Jaffe looked like he was going to be ill but he recovered enough to mount a weak offensive. “Bonnie, can’t you see that this is a stunt dreamed up by my opponent to discredit me? There is no truth to what this man is saying.”

“Senator you can answer my questions here or we can take a ride downtown. It’s up to you.” Jacoby knew he was bluffing but he was hoping the Senator didn’t. “The way I see it you had Stone murder Petulengro before she could link you to the murder of the blonde whose body was discovered just a few miles from here. You didn’t want her to tell anyone she’d given the two of you matching tattoos. Is that the way it was, Senator?”

Bonnie pulled her arm away from Jaffe’s grasp. “You low life, son of a bitch. I hope they fry you.” She punctuated her statement by spitting into her husband’s ashen face before storming away.

The crowed which had been watching in stunned silence as the scene unfolded now parted to allow Bonnie Jaffe to pass. Cameras flashed as Jacoby handed the Senator a handkerchief. He grabbed the handkerchief and flung it to the floor. “Your career is over, Jacoby. Before I’m through, you won’t be able to get a job as a crossing guard.” He turned and followed walked off in the direction his wife had done.

Jacoby called after him, loud enough for those standing near him to hear, “There’s just one thing I haven’t been able to figure out, Senator.” Jaffe froze. “Why did you and Stone have to kill Dennis Doggett?”

Before Jacoby could react the Senator had landed a crashing blow to left jaw. Cameras flashed again as Jacoby theatrically crumbled to the floor. When he was sure all the photographers had gotten a good shot he stood up and brushed himself off and announced loudly “Senator, you’re under arrest for assaulting an officer. You have the right to remain silent…” Before he could finish, Jaffe swung at him again. This time Jacoby ducked. He took Jaffe by the elbow and escorted him very slowly out of the ballroom.

Chapter Fifty-Two

“Harold, could you try Peter again. I’m getting worried. Maybe it’s because I don’t have a lifetime of memories to distract me but I can’t stop thinking that something has happened to him.”

Harold sat down next to Fanny and put his arm around her. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to go talk to Jerry for a minute.” He gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

“See you later, bye.”

“What did you say?”

“See you later, bye.”

“Honey. That’s kind of a little ‘thing’ we always said to each other. Don’t you see what that means? If you can remember things like that, it means you’re going to be able to recall other things soon.”

“I hope so, Harold. I feel like I am living in some kind of alternate reality. Hurry back.”

Jerry was sitting in front of the nurse’s station staring at the bank of elevators. He looked as exhausted as Harold felt. “I really appreciate what you’re doing, Jerry. I don’t think I could go through this alone.”

“You’d do the same for me, Harold. How’s Fanny doing?”

“She’s getting more and more frustrated at not being able to remember, but what’s really got her upset is not being able to contact Pete. He should have been home a long ago. We’ve tried his cell and his home phone. Nothing. Fanny thinks something has happened to him. Jerry, I’m worried too.”

Jerry frowned. He was worried too. “I’m going to call a friend of mind in the Charlottesville police department and have him take a ride by Pete’s apartment.”

“Do you think that’s necessary, Jerry?”

“I hope I’m just over-reacting, but I’ll feel better if someone checks on him. You go back in and try to keep Fanny calm.”

Harold returned to the room to find Fanny busy at her laptop again. He was relieved she’d found something to distract herself. Now he just needed to do the same. He had expected Jerry to dismiss their concerns about Pete. The fact that his friend had reacted so quickly reminded Harold they were dealing with desperate men who would stop at nothing.

“What are you writing, honey?” Harold hoped he sounded calm.

“Actually I’m not writing. I’m trying to get into my email. My username is here but not the password. I’ve tried everything. I tried putting in your name, Peter’s – even Arlo’s. No luck.”

“Did you try ‘mypassword’?”

“Why would I use your password to get into my email?”

“No. M-Y-P-A-S-S-W-O-R-D. You got irritated a while back at having to remember so many passwords and you started using ‘mypassword’ as your password. Try it.”

“That was it. I’m in. Thanks. Wow. Look at this. I have 146 unread emails.”

Harold leaned over her shoulder to look at the list of messages. “Looks like most of them are from people on your writing loop.” He saw that meant nothing to her. “See there – all the ones that have ‘writingloop’ at the beginning of the subject line. Those are from people on your on-line writing loop. It’s a carryover from a writing conference you went to out in New Mexico a few years ago. Someone posts a topic a few times a week and everyone writes on the topic.”

“Okay. Let’s see what topic everyone is writing on now…that’s ironic. Looks like the topic is ‘I remember’. That will be a really short write for me.” Fanny scrolled through the list of messages until she came to one that wasn’t from the writing loop. The message line read ‘Richard is dead’. She clicked on it before Harold could stop her.

Fanny –

I’ve left messages at all your numbers. Maybe you’re traveling. I don’t remember. If you happen to get this email please call me. Richard was killed earlier today in an automobile accident. The police don’t know how it happened. He hit a pole on Suitland Parkway. They’re waiting for the toxicology report but they don’t think he’d been drinking. I guess I should feel something but I don’t. You know how I felt. I guess what I am feeling is guilty because things are so much simpler now. I really need to talk. Please call me.

Christine

Fanny was trembling. Harold took her laptop and put it on the table. “What’s the matter, Fanny?” She didn’t respond. Her face was frozen in a mask of fear as though she was watching some gruesome film play out before her eyes. He hurried to the door that was still guarded by the two policemen. “Please get a nurse. Something’s wrong with my wife.”

When the nurse arrived less than a minute later Fanny was still in a stupor. She was conscious but apparently unaware of anyone or anything around her.

“What’s the matter with her?”

The nurse didn’t answer him. She was too busy checking Fanny’s pulse and blood pressure. When she had finished noting her vital signs she responded. “It looks like something must have triggered a memory that upset your wife. Do you remember what she was doing right before this happened?”

Harold pointed at the laptop that was still open on the bedside table.

Chapter Fifty-One

When Jacoby walked into the lobby of the Ritz-Carlton he realized he didn’t exactly blend in and that’s what he had intended. He wanted Jaffe to notice him. Most of the men were in formal attire. The women looked like they’d spent the afternoon at the beauty shop. Most of them had chosen some variation of the same black dress. He followed the crowd to the stairway that led up to the ballroom. As he passed a muted flat screen television at the end of the lobby he noticed the silent images of the rioting in Pakistan. The camera panned slowly over bloody bodies. It always struck him that people like him spent hours and hours pursuing a single criminal while the slaughter that took place in other parts of the world was no more than a blurred image a television screen. Jacoby scolded himself. He should save the philosophizing for later. He and Lieutenant Columbo had a killer to catch.

It wasn’t hard to locate Jaffe in the crowded ballroom. The Senator was surrounded by his minions. Jaffe looked around for Stone but he was no where to be seen. Jaffe looked relaxed and confident. If he was worried about anything it didn’t show on his tanned, unlined face. His grey eyes managed to focus on the people around him and the room at the same time. His right arm never left the shoulder of the striking, dark haired woman at his side but the woman appeared to be more interested in her drink than in whatever the Senator was saying. She was obviously the Senator’s wife. As he moved closer Jacoby got a better look at the woman. He imagined she must have been a beautiful woman at one time but time and the booze had taken their toll. A waiter walked by carrying a tray of drinks and Mrs. Jaffe handed him her empty glass and helped herself to another. It looked like the Senator tried to whisper something to his wife but she pulled away from him and moved a few feet away. Soon the gulf between the Senator and his wife was flooded with well wishers and hangers-on. Jaffe took advantage of the opportunity to approach Mrs. Jaffe. He helped himself to two glasses from a passing tray and worked his way to her side. “Thought you might like a fresh drink, Mrs. Jaffe.” She accepted the drink, and finished the drink she’d been holding before handing the empty glass to Jacoby.

“Thank you. I don’t think I know you.”

She was hiding it well, but Jacoby could tell from experience that Mrs. Jaffe was smashed. “Sorry. I’m Detective Jacoby. I’m here to talk to your husband in connection with a series of murders. One of them occurred in my district.”

She didn’t flinch. Maybe she was too intoxicated for his words to register with her. She took a sip of her drink. “Detective Jacoby, I have no doubt that my husband is guilty of many, many things, but I don’t believe murder is among them. However, Detective, as you may know the Senator and I have – drifted apart of late. Perhaps I don’t know him as well as I once did.”

“Tell me this, Mrs. Jaffe. Does the Senator have a tattoo on his shoulder?”

She laughed. “Detective, the only thing on my husband’s shoulder is a giant chip.”

She laughed again at her joke. Jacoby found the joke neither funny nor terribly accurate. “I heard he had gotten a tattoo recently. Are you sure?”

“As I’m sure you already know, the Senator and I don’t spend much time together these days.” She pointed to Jacoby’s drink. “You gonna’ drink that?”

Jacoby handed her his glass and disposed of the empty one she handed to him. “You know, I was wondering, Mrs. Jaffe…”

She interrupted him by placing a perfectly manicured finger on his lips. “Why don’t you call me Bonnie?”

“I was wondering, Bonnie, is the Senator’s little friend here tonight?”

He let her stew for a moment in a mixture of shock and confusion before clarifying. “I’m referring to Carl Stone. Bonnie, you didn’t think I was asking you.... Forgive me, Bonnie. I have been anxious to meet the inscrutable Mr. Stone this evening.”

“I haven’t seen Carl since I got in this morning. And that’s unusual now that I think about it. Carl is usually closer to my husband than --- I was going to saw his shadow, but maybe I should say a tattoo.” Her second quip of the evening sent her into another ripple of drunken giggles. Before she recovered, they were joined by Senator Jaffe.

“Ah, Senator. I was hoping to have a chance to chat with you this evening. Bonnie and I were just getting acquainted.”

“Yes, Stuart, Detective Jacoby is much more attentive than you are dear.”

“Detective? What brings you to our little gathering this evening?” Jacoby had to hand it to the Senator. He was one cool customer.

“Like I said. I was hoping to have a chance to talk to you. I had a few questions for you.”

“He wants to know if you have a tattoo, Stu. I assure him that you are unblemished.” Bonnie looked like she was in danger of losing her balance. Jaffe reached out to steady his wife but Jacoby didn’t miss the stunned expression on his face. “He also want to talk to little Carl, don’t you Detective?”

“Detective, in the future, if you have questions, you please direct them to me.” The Senator had abandoned his good manners. He was clearly furious. Jacoby could see white patches under his tanned cheekbones.

“Very well, Senator. What do your know about the death of Lillian Petulengro?”

Chapter Fifty

Harold hung up the phone. “Steve said he’d go over now and get Arlo and bring him over to their place. He and Cooper will have a great time. I hope that the two of them don’t totally destroy Steve and Mary’s house. He’s a really good neighbor. He said he’d walked by about noon and heard Arlo barking like crazy. He let himself in and took Arlo for a walk. Said he figured Arlo might be a little lonely.”

“The way you talk about them, I feel like I should know them. It’s so frustrating.”

“Just give it time, honey. It’s all in there.” He tapped her lightly on the forehead. “I’m going to try Pete one more time. I can’t understand why he hasn’t returned my call. It’s just not like him.”

***

Stone had decided that since the hospital was off-limits he’d stake out the Britt house. He didn’t actually have a plan but didn’t have any other options. The house was empty except for a dog. He could hear it barking and occasionally it would jump up a look out the front window. He got a good look at the dog when a guy – probably a neighbor – came over to take him for a walk. Stone always liked dogs better than he liked people. This one was a beauty. Pure white with a majestic way of walking.

Not long after the neighbor brought the dog back the son came back home. The kid let the dog out in the front yard and let him chase tennis balls for a while before taking him back inside. When he came back out he had his overnight bag with him.

When the kid backed out of the driveway, Stone followed him. There were too many nosey neighbors around the house to try anything so he decided to follow the son and wait for an opportunity to do something. As he drove, a plan began to form in his mind. If he couldn’t get close enough to the woman to shut her up maybe there was another way to make her keep her mouth shut. The kid drove west on I-66 for a while before taking the 29 South exit toward Gainesville. Stone was pretty sure he knew where he was heading. Probably back to school and based on his direction it was probably the University of Virginia. Stone knew the school well. He’d visited there often with the Senator’s father when Stuart Jaffe was in law school there. Stone relaxed and put a little more distance between Britt’s car and his but he always kept it in sight.

Britt parked his car in front of a two story apartment building that looked like it was built for off campus housing and let himself in to the ground floor end unit. Perfect. Now all he had to do was waiting until it got dark.

Chapter Forty-Nine

It was a little after five when Jaffe knocked on the door of Bonnie’s room. “Are you about ready? We need to leave in about a half hour.” There was no answer. “Bonnie. Listen. I can’t be late for this.”

“If you don’t stop yelling at me you can go to this damn fundraiser alone. I have a splitting headache.” The door opened. Bonnie had dressed flawlessly as usual. Not a hair out of place.

“You look very nice, Bonnie. Very nice.”

“I’d like a drink before we go.” Jaffe followed her downstairs to the bar. He noticed that she was walking a bit unsteadily and wondered if she had come downstairs while he was working and fixed herself a drink – or several drinks. He poured them both a drink. He didn’t want to get in a fight with her right before the fundraiser.

“You really do look exceptionally nice tonight. Bonnie.” He meant it. He took a sip of his drink and waited for her to respond. The tenor of her response would tell him the kind of evening that awaited him. He looked at her and wondered when he had stopped finding her attractive. When he had stopped loving her. It would have been so much simpler if he could have just been happy with Bonnie. But he wasn’t happy with her. He needed other women and because of his weakness three people were dead.

Bonnie put down her empty glass. “I’m ready. Let’s get this charade over with.”

While Senator and Mrs. Jaffe were making the silent journey from Great Falls to the Tyson’s, Jacoby was sitting in his car in the parking garage next to the Ritz-Carlton. He needed a quiet place to think He’d been sitting there for more than a half an hour planning how he would confront Jaffe. Before getting out of the car he made one last call to Benson at the hospital.

“Nothing happening here, Detective. All quiet. The Fanny and Harold are getting reacquainted and Mosby has just about talked me into getting a tattoo. Did he tell you that he has the Garden of Eden tattooed on his backside?”

“The only tattoo that I’m interested in right now is the one on Jaffe’s right shoulder. I just have to figure out a way to get the Senator to give me a look at it.”

“If you can pull that one off, Jacoby, I’ll nominate you for Chief of Police.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

Peter’s drive back to Charlottesville was uneventful. The miles passed quickly as he mulled over the situation with his Mom. He would have preferred to stay remain at home until her memory came back but the Post-Baccalaureate Pre-Med Program was more even more demanding than he’d expected. He knew if he missed more than a day or two of work he would fall hopelessly behind. Pete was a dedicated student but not a particularly gifted one. His Pop said it was because he was easily distracted, but his Mom said it was because he was blessed with an active imagination.

When he got back to his apartment Pete had to resist the temptation to take a quick nap before hitting the books. Instead he made himself a pot of strong coffee and tackled the most difficult assignment. His Mom always said to eat the biggest frog first. “Pete,” she’d told him when he was only twelve years old trying to whether to do his arithmetic or vocabulary first, “if you’re stuck in a roomful of frogs and you can’t leave until you’ve eaten every single frog, the best thing to do is to eat the biggest frog first. After that it will be a cinch, my boy.”

He’d been at the books for a few hours when there was a knock at the door. “Who the hell is that?” he said shoving the books aside. He hated to have his concentration interrupted. He pushed away from the table. There was another knock. More insistent this time. “Keep your britches on! I’m coming already.” He realized he was grouchy. He was grouchy because he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He promised himself that as soon as he dealt with whoever was banging at his door he would head down to The Mousetrap for a pizza.

“Hello. What can I do for you?” Pete didn’t recognize the man who was standing at his door. It was an older guy. A little older than his Pop. He was a small guy with a decidedly grim expression on his face. He stood there just glaring at Pete. Not at him exactly – more like through him. The man was making Pete very nervous. He surprised himself by impulsively pushing the door closed but just as it was about to click shut the man blocked it with his foot and pushed his way in. The first thing Pete noticed was the knife.

Chapter Forty-Seven

After Peter said his goodbyes and left to return to Charlottesville, Harold remained behind reading a magazine while Fanny busied herself with her writing. In many ways it was familiar. Harold sitting and reading on one side of the room while Fanny worked on her novel. They’d spent many contented hours like this in companionable silence. At one point Harold noticed that the steady clicking of the keys had abated and he looked over at Fanny and saw she was absorbed in something on the screen. “What are you looking at honey?” It felt so natural to address her in affectionate terms forgetting that he was still a stranger to her.

“I’m reading my journal. It seems I’m a very lucky woman and that you’re a big part of it. Listen to this. It’s dated September 12th – just a couple of weeks ago.”

This morning I am surprised to find myself "crying for happy" as I sit on the deck soaking in the changes the seasons bring. I am overwhelmed with a sense of peace. The peace is undisturbed by Arlo who still feels the need to bark at the gulls that circle at eye level over the creek. He believes, I think, that they are invading his space. Each bark echoes back to him from across the creek. Soon he ignores the birds and begins barking at his echo as he searches in vain for the dog across the creek. It is chilly here on the deck. I wrap myself in a blanket. I sip my coffee. I am totally content. As I write, Harold is seated cross legged at the end of our pier in meditation. Abundance looks so different than it once did. Warmth, nourishing food, loved ones near by, my health. That is abundance.

“I’m not saying it’s prize winning material or anything, but it makes me very happy to know that this is the way our life is, Harold.”

Fanny smiled at her husband and went back to reading her journal. There was an entry dated May 31st.

Blue Moon

Second full moon this month. The seem to be coming around more often, but according to this morning’s news it’s really only every two and a half years. The moon wasn’t up yet when I took Arlo for his walk.. Or maybe it was and I was too busy talking to my friend Emmy. She’s here for our regular Thursday night write. It’s late. Almost 9:00 and we have just begun writing. We sat on the deck and talked for a while. She helped herself to some salad while I tried a slice of the bread she had brought from the farmer’s market in Bethesda. We watched Arlo play in the backyard. Still daylight then. No moon. Blue or otherwise.

My left knee is sore. For the past few days I have been running on the treadmill. They moved the row of elliptical machines to a part of the gym that is gloomy and only has one TV. In their place they put new treadmills that are supposed to have a soft track to cushion the knees and ankles. Not soft enough. I noticed the first twinge just as I was fastening Arlo’s leash. Maybe it’s time for another cortisone shot or maybe I’ll just go back to the ellipticals – even if it is gloomy there. Whatever I do, I can’t let this be an excuse not to exercise in the morning.

“You know, Harold, it really amazing how much one can learn about themselves by reading their journal. But I do have a few questions.”

“Okay – ask me anything.”

“All right. Who is Emmy?”

“Emmy is your best friend. She’d like the sister you would have had if you got to pick your sister. And she is your writing buddy. She comes over to our house every Thursday and you two write together while I am at my meeting. Does any of that ring a bell?”

Fanny turned her head to one side and looked off into the distance as though she were trying to hear a figurative bell. Then she shook her head. “No, honey. Nothing. But I do have another question. Do I have a bad knee?”

“You’ve got a pretty complete journal there. Yep. It’s your left knee. You have a torn medial meniscus. Right before we went to Italy last year you went to a doctor at Georgetown Hospital. He took some pictures of your knee, gave you a shot of cortisone and prescribed physical therapy. You walked all over Italy – pain free. Any bells?”

“No bells. Sorry.”

Harold got up and walked across the room to where Fanny sat. He was about to kiss his wife when suddenly the door opened and in rushed Jerry Benson along with Detective Jacoby and a third man that Harold didn’t recognize.

“Sorry to bust in like this, but something has come up and it couldn’t wait.” Jacoby was dressed casually in a sweatshirt and jean but he still managed to convey the persona of a hard-boiled detective. “Mrs. Britt, we want to move you to a more secure location.” Harold put his arm around Fanny protectively.

“You’re not thinking of taking her back to jail?”

“Let me explain. Let’s start at the beginning.” Jerry Benson sat down on the corner of Fanny’s bed. “Late yesterday afternoon. Mosby Ellis came to my office.” He pointed toward the stranger who was leaning uncomfortably against the wall. “He gave me some very disturbing information about the person who is apparently responsible for the murder of his friend Lillian Petulengro and a similar murder down in Calvert County.” Fanny’s eyes widened. This was the first she had heard of a second murder. “The reason we barged in like we did is because about an hour ago Mosby saw that man in the lobby of this hospital.”

“Did you see him yourself, Jerry?”

“I saw a man running away. I didn’t get a look at his face. However, Mosby is absolutely certain it was the same man.” As he stood in front of his friends trying to explain the reason for his distress, Jerry realized that much of the evidence against Jaffe and Carl Stone was circumstantial. All that really tied them to the murders was a tattoo and a forty year old news story.

Mosby interrupted. “I know it was the guy. And the only reason he would have for being here is that he’s afraid you saw something that day at Lilly’s shop. You’re in danger, Mrs. Britt.”

“Now just hold on a minute, Ellis. My wife has been through some kind harrowing experience that we can only imagine. She’s still suffering the after effects of that trauma. I won’t have you barge in here and alarm her further.”

“I can appreciate that and I am truly sorry. But Lilly was my best friend. I want to see her killer punished. But even more important – I don’t want anyone else hurt.”

Jacoby held his hand up. “Mr. Britt, Jerry and I have just talked to your wife’s doctor. He assures us Mrs. Britt will suffer no ill effects from a move to a more secure location. We can’t protect her here at the hospital. There’s too much activity. Too many people coming and going. We have a safe house up near the Washington Cathedral. We’re going to move you there now. And we’re going to add a second guard.”

Jerry reached over and touched Fanny’s hand. “We’re going to step outside now so you can get ready, Fanny. This will all be over soon. The police are going to catch the guy that’s responsible and then you and Harold can get back to living a normal life.”

The men left the room. Harold left with them. Fanny looked down at the words on her computer screen – the ones she had just read to Harold a few minutes earlier. I am overwhelmed with a sense of peace.

She closed her computer. Everything and everyone was strange to her. She had no reality to grasp. No certainty. She had not choice but to let go. Even as the phrase “let go” came to her mind she felt strangely secure.

When Harold returned to the room ten minutes later he found his wife sitting in a chair by the window still dressed in her gown and robe.

“I’m not leaving, Harold. This is the safest place for me. Jacoby and the rest of them say they can’t protect me here but they’re wrong. Think about it. If they’re right they know exactly who they have to watch for. I think he’d be crazy to show up here again after being practically chased from the lobby. If he does, they’ll catch him. They’re really underestimating the nurses on this floor. Those women don’t miss a thing.”

Harold marveled at his wife’s ability remain rational and calm in the face of all she had been through. But then why should he be surprised? This was the woman who had coolly and competently steered their lives for twenty-five years. Why had he thought for a moment that a little thing like losing her memory, being arrested for murder and being marked for murder by killer would take away her spirit?

“Fanny, darling, it’s Jacoby’s business to know how to handle things like this. Shouldn’t we let him do his job?”

“It may be his job, Harold, but it’s my life. Right now all I can recall of my life is the last two and a half days and I’ve spent more than half of that in this room. This is all I know. I feel safe here. I AM safe here. I’m not going anywhere.” She folded her arms and stuck out her bottom lip.

Harold recognized that posture. He mind was made up. She wasn’t going anywhere. Harold had to admire her tenacity. He left her sitting by the window and went back out to let Jacoby know that it was a done deal. Fanny was going to be staying right where she was.

At first Jacoby reacted just like Harold had expected him to. “Your wife is in no condition to call the shots here, Britt. We’re moving her and that’s final.”

“You’re underestimating Fanny, Detective. The only way she’s leaving that room is if you carry her out.”

“Maybe there’s another way, Jacoby.” Next to Harold, Jerry Benson probably knew Fanny better than anyone. “I think we can protect her here. You can add a second guard. Mosby and I can watch the lobby entrance. How many other access points are there?”

“I’ve seen him. I can help. Just tell me what to do.” Mosby Ellis wanted the bastard who had killed Lilly behind bars.

“Okay. I know when I’m outnumbered. Let’s do this thing.” Jacoby looked at his watch. “But let’s step on it.”

“You got a hot date, Jacoby?

“You might say that, Benson. I’m going to be surprise guest at the Senator’s fund raiser tonight.”