 
Always Starting Over

By Alton Brit

Copyright 2015 Alton Brit

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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### Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

About Alton Brit

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Other Books by Alton Brit:

Preview of Stories from Morris Pointe: Book 4 Loves Lost and Found

### Preface

Life takes interesting, if not strange, twists and turns. Consider the case of Callie Kramer. A week after she should have started tenth grade, Callie's fifteen year old, unwed, pregnant mother was put on a bus to go live with her aunt in Elizabethton, TN, until after her baby was born. Later in the fall, another girl in her same situation arrived in Elizabethton. The two girls met while walking in a park one day and became friends. By coincidence, both girls arrived at the hospital on the same day, in labor. On March 27, 1968, both young mothers gave birth to baby girls. After their babies were born, the two young mothers never saw each other again. Mary Murphy was listed as the mother of one of the babies. There was no father listed. Even though she used poor judgment and made a bad decision one night, Mary was an intelligent girl. She realized she was not prepared to give her daughter the kind of life she deserved. Early in her pregnancy, she made the decision to make her baby available for adoption. Sandra Belk, the other mother, committed to give up her baby for adoption too, but a few days before her baby was born she changed her mind. On March 30th, Mary went home with her aunt. She was heart broken, but knew in her heart it was the best decision for her little girl.

Victor and Nancy Simon took their baby girl home to Jonesborough, TN, and named her Callie Bea. Sandra took her baby home to face teen single motherhood in the late sixties. In early May, Mary's aunt took her to the bus station to return home to pretend it never happened.

Callie was a happy little girl in her new home with her new parents. She learned to walk and talk and run and play. By the age of three, it was obvious she was a smart little girl. Victor and Nancy began to save for her college education.

Callie's world and her life shattered on the morning of November 3, 1971. Victor and Nancy Simon died in an automobile crash on their way to work after dropping her off at the baby sitter's house. That afternoon, her Aunt Carol, Nancy's sister, picked her up. As Victor's parents and siblings and Nancy's parents and siblings gathered for the double funeral, the subject of Callie's future was on everyone's mind. What was going to happen to the adorable little girl? Both sets of grandparents said they were too old to take on the responsibility of raising a little girl. None of her parent's siblings felt like they could take her either. They all felt bad, but not too bad. After all, she wasn't blood. A week after the accident, on November 10, 1971, Callie entered foster care in Tennessee. She never saw any of her parent's families again.

Chapter 1

On May 9, 1992, as Callie Simon impatiently waited for things to get started, she questioned her decision to participate in her graduation. She looked around the sea of black robed graduates on the coliseum floor for a friendly face. After a few minutes she gave up on finding any of her few friends among the graduation candidates. She was sure they all had families and friends in the stands surrounding them. She, on the other hand, was totally alone. All her life she had felt something was missing in her life and this morning was no exception. Before the ceremony could get started, she decided she should have opted to have the University mail her degree. Unfortunately when it was time to make the decision to walk or not walk, she had felt a need to walk across the platform, shake the hand of a Memphis State University official and hear them say congratulations. Afterward, there would be no family, and few, if any, friends to congratulate her. She had taken six years to complete a degree program designed to be completed in four. As a result, most of her friends who had started college with her had graduated two years earlier. Also, most of her friends had moved out of the dorm after a year or two. Dormitories were the most economical housing option, so Callie lived in dorms for all six years.

At the age of eighteen in 1986, Callie graduated from Greeneville High School. The Carters, her second and final foster family, attended her high school graduation and consented to allow her to continue living with them until it was time to leave for college. In August, she loaded an old Chevy Chevette with all her worldly possessions and drove to Memphis to attend Memphis State University.

Expectations of the people of Greeneville weren't very high for Callie. Most expected she would follow in her mother's footsteps and become teen mother, but she didn't.

Some social workers pointed to her as an example of the success of the foster care program. She just thought of herself as a survivor. She had lived with two foster families in fifteen years. She was fortunate to have lived with the Carters for all four years of high school.

For the first two years at MSU, Callie maintained ties with the Carters. She made the trip back to Greeneville to spend Christmas and New Years with them. During her third year, they moved to Idaho and she never saw them again. They continued to send a Birthday Card and a Christmas Card each year, but that was it. She never spoke to them again after they moved.

The social workers she had encountered during her fifteen years of foster care would have probably been surprised, even though they considered her a success of the system, if they knew she was graduating with a degree in Business Administration. That is, if they remembered her at all. It had taken six years to complete a standard four year course of study because she had to work full time to support herself while she attended classes. Hard work in the classroom and on the job paid off. On graduation day she only had about three thousand dollars in student loans.

When the graduation ceremony began, Callie checked her watch and was glad to see they were starting on time. She and her fellow candidates patiently endured speaker after speaker as the ceremony slowly progressed toward the part that really interested them. She began to believe the speakers might drone on forever. Each time one of them sat down, she made a mental check mark on her program and checked again to verify that her name had not vanished from the list of candidates for graduation.

The air conditioning units at the Mid-South Coliseum were making a valiant effort this morning, but the unseasonably warm May morning was winning the battle. She, as well as most of her neighbors were using their programs as fans. It was getting uncomfortably warm in the uncomfortable chairs. Her mind began to wander and she quit paying attention to the speeches and started to think about the rest of her day after graduation. She thought about her somewhat trusty sixteen year old Chevy Chevette, parked outside in the blazing sun. All her worldly possessions were packed inside, getting hotter with every minute that passed. She hoped her stuff didn't melt. The car's air conditioner hadn't worked for the past two summers.

As soon as this ceremony was over she planned to hit the road. It was probably going to be a hot, uncomfortable drive to Nashville. Her tee shirt would probably be soaked with sweat by the time she got to the city limits. She had hoped for a cloudy, cool day for her drive to Nashville, but it looked like there would be no such luck. Her attention was drawn back to the platform when the last speaker eventually sat down. All around her the candidates for graduation began to pay attention again. When her row was directed toward the platform, she was certain she felt a drop of sweat run down the small of her back, but she stoically awaited her turn to walk across the platform to receive her degree. It seemed like she had waited forever to actually receive her degree, but when she returned to her seat it seemed to take even longer for the rest of her fellow graduates to receive theirs.

A few minutes after noon, after all the degrees had been conferred and the air had been filled with graduation caps, Callie picked her way through the throng of graduates and their families to the parking lot. She climbed into the Chevette, rolled down all the windows and headed for Nashville and a real job.

Recruiters from Peabody Strauss had conducted interviews on campus the proceeding March, with prospective May and December graduates. Callie felt good about her interview, and in mid April she received an offer. She accepted their offer and began to dream about all the money she was going to make at a real job. Her reporting date was Monday, June 1, in Nashville.

Some of her fellow graduates planned on vacations before their new careers but that wasn't an option for Callie. She had three weeks to survive before she started to work for Peabody Strauss. She also knew it would be another three weeks after starting before she would get a pay check. She was due one more pay check from Walmart, but she knew money was going be tight for a while.

She stopped in Jackson for a late lunch and arrived in Nashville a few hours later. She was relieved she had no car trouble. She checked into a questionable motel whose only redeeming quality was that it had a rate she felt she could afford for a few days or weeks, until she could find something permanent.

On Sunday and Monday, she told herself she was enjoying life, resting and relaxing. On Tuesday, she admitted to herself that she was terribly bored. She decided to get out and see the city so she drove downtown to locate the offices of Peabody Strauss. As she drove through downtown, she saw the Nashville Convention and Visitors Bureau and decided to stop. She was browsing through a rack of brochures for Tourist Spots in and around Nashville when she thought she heard her name called. At first she thought she was imagining it, but then she heard it again. She turned around and looked for the voice.

"Callie Simon, it is you. Girl what are you doing here in Nashville?"

Callie saw a young woman, about her age. She looked somewhat familiar, but she couldn't recall her name. The woman seemed to know her. She smiled, "I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

"Of course you do, I'm Monica Shirley. Greeneville High Class of '86. Go Green Devils!"

"Oh, hi Monica. I'm so embarrassed. What has it been, six years?"

"Almost. The last time I saw you, you were about to leave Greeneville to go to Memphis to college."

"I was. If I remember now, you were going to Virginia Tech."

"I did, and now, here we are in Nashville."

"How are your mom and dad?"

"They're good. They don't think I come home often enough. How are the Carters?"

"They moved to Idaho about four years ago. I haven't seen them since they left Greeneville. You know, I haven't been back to Greeneville since Christmas of 87."

"So what are you doing in Nashville?"

"I'm going to start working for Peabody Strauss on June first."

"Really?"

"Yep, I finally graduated last Saturday. I drove over here Saturday afternoon."

"What have you been doing? Have you been out on the town yet?"

"No, not yet. I've been lounging around the motel, but to be honest, I've been pretty bored. I can't remember the last time I was off from work more than two days in a row. Girl, I can't believe I didn't recognize you, but you were a brunette when we were back in high school, weren't you?"

Monica laughed. "You know, they say blondes have more fun. I can't speak for all blondes, but it's working for me. I decided to go blonde before I moved down here. I don't plan to go back anytime soon. You should try it."

"I'm not so sure." Callie laughed. "I just can't see myself as a blonde."

"That's right. You tried being a red head didn't you?"

"I did and it didn't work out so well." Callie decided to change the direction of the conversation. "So what are you doing here?"

"I'm the Convention Support Director for the Nashville Convention and Visitors Bureau."

"I'm impressed. That's quite a mouthful."

Monica suddenly frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just had a thought. I'll bet you already have a place to live."

"Not really. I have a room at a motel not too far from here. I'm going to stay there until I can get squared away and get a pay check. Then I plan to find something permanent."

Monica smiled. "Girl, we need to talk." She glanced at her watch. "It's 11:45. Let's go to lunch."

"I don't know, I'm having to watch my money pretty close right now. You know, I've been on my own since high school and money is really tight now. I'm afraid it's going to continue to be tight for a while until I can get started with the new job."

"Don't worry. Lunch is on me, today."

"Monica, I don't know."

"Look, how many times did you bale me out in Mr. Platt's Algebra class?"

"I don't know. Not that many."

"It was more than you apparently remember. Just think of lunch today as a partial payback. Come on. There is a great place just around the corner."

Monica turned and started walking toward the door. She called to another woman at a desk across the lobby. "Samantha, I'm going to lunch."

"Okay," she replied.

Monica waited at the door and held it open for Callie. "It's just right up there." She pointed up the street. "It's not far. You can almost see it from here."

They walked along in silence for most of a block. Callie was at a loss for words. Sure, she had known Monica in high school, but she never remembered them being more than casual acquaintances. Today, Monica was talking to her like they were long lost best friends.

"So, what ever happened with you and Steve Burbank? As I remember, you two were pretty hot and heavy."

"That was over by Christmas of our freshman year of college. He went to UT in Knoxville and I went to Memphis State. By the end of the first semester, we had gotten to the point that we were not even talking to each other on the phone with any regularity. When I went to the Carter's for Christmas I saw him one time. By then, I was tired of the red hair and had let it grow out to brown, the curls were history and shortly after Christmas, so was Steve. I've not heard from him since."

"Wow."

"It's not so bad. He moved on. I moved on."

Monica stopped. "We're here," she said and led the way into the little cafe.

Over a lite lunch, the two women talked about everything and nothing. Monica shared that she had been living in Nashville since she graduated from college two years earlier. She had been hired as the Assistant Convention Support Director. After a year, the Director retired and she got the job.

Toward the end of lunch, Monica said, "One of the reasons I wanted to take you to lunch is that you said you don't have a permanent place to live yet. I don't know if you would be interested, but I live in a house with two other girls. We are losing one of our roommates at the end of this week. She is getting married, and for some reason, her fiancée doesn't think it would be a good idea for him to move in with us." She smiled. "We even offered them the Master Bedroom. Seriously, I would like for you to think about moving in with us. It would be great to have someone we know, instead of running an ad in the paper."

"Who is your other roommate?"

"You know her, Stephanie Wells. She was in our class."

"I think I might have had a class with her once."

"She's great and we've talked about how much we wanted to avoid a want ad roommate."

"It sounds really good. Tell me more."

"Okay, you're going to love it. It is on a quiet street about ten minutes from downtown. We have three bedrooms and two bathrooms. Stephanie has been living there the longest. She has the Master bedroom, but the other two bedrooms are really good sized. We have a living room and dining room and of course, a kitchen. There is a two car garage and the back yard is fenced. There is room for another car in the driveway."

"It all sounds good, but how much is it going to cost me."

"The rent is $700 a month. We all put in $375 a month and that pays the rent, utilities, insurance and hiring a guy to mow the grass. Sometimes we have to kick in a little extra in the summer for the AC."

"It sounds really good."

"Great. I'll call Stephanie. Can you come over and see the place this afternoon? We are usually home by six. You guys can talk and we can answer any questions you have."

"Sure," Callie smiled and laughed. "I never counted on this kind of luck finding a place. By the way, what is the address?"

"I guess that would help. It is 5725 Mountain Valley Cove."

Monica smiled and looked at her watch. "Wow, I better get back to work." She pulled her business card from her pocket and handed it to Callie. "If you will call this number, I'll have your cell number."

"Sure."

When they got back to the parking lot, Callie said, "I'll see you this afternoon around 6:15."

"Don't forget to call me, so I'll have your number."

"I won't."

Callie walked to her car and Monica went back to work. When she got back to the motel, she sat down in the chair beside her bed and looked at the untidy pile of her belongings. She remembered Monica's card and pulled it from her pocket. She dialed the number and waited for a ring.

"Monica Shirley."

"Hi, Monica, it's Callie Simon. I'll see you tonight. Bye."

"Wait, don't hang up. Do you have a minute to talk?"

"Sure."

"One of the things I do for the Convention and Visitors Bureau is to contract with individuals to act as hosts and hostesses at some of the conventions we host. While we were at lunch, one of my regular contractors called and said she is not going to be able to work until the first of the month. I'm in a bind now. We have five conventions in the next two and a half weeks and I am one hostess short. You mentioned that your money is tight. If you're interested, you could help me out and make some pretty good money at the same time."

"What are we talking about?"

"When conventions come to town, a lot of times they don't want to pay to bring their own support people. It is a lot less expensive to hire people here and not have to pay travel expenses, so they have us provide them with people. That's where the contractors come in. We don't have full time work for them, but it is to everyone's advantage to have a lot of the same people at every convention. The hosts and hostesses generally work at the registration desk prior to the start of the first session on the first day and then act as a liaison between the convention and the center, for the rest of the meeting. They know who to contact when there is a problem. For example, they have contacts for the maintenance department if there are maintenance problems or the temperature isn't right, that sort of thing. Our hosts and hostesses are in place to meet the business needs of the conventions. They do all kinds of business related activities. Sometimes they make copies. They can provide a list of vendors for services the customer didn't anticipate needing or forgot to secure.

The job is pretty easy and the pay is excellent. Generally speaking, they work between 6 and 10 hours a day for $20 per hour. We pay the contractors at the conclusion of each convention. Do you think you would be interested?"

"Absolutely. I'm going nuts sitting around here with nothing to do."

"Great. The dress code is conservative, office casual. Black slacks or skirt with a white top and comfortable black shoes. You have the potential to walk a lot. We can talk about it more tonight, but I would like for you to come to the office in the morning to set up your contract. Better yet, I'll bring the contract home with me this afternoon. I would like for you to work tomorrow from 10 to 6, then Thursday from 7:30 to 5:30 and Friday from 7:30 to 3."

"How about if I come back up to your office this afternoon and sign the contract?"

"That would be even better."

"Do you have a picture of what I need to wear? I may need to go shopping."

"Better than that, there is a convention going on right now. I'll take you over there and you can see some of our hostesses at work."

"Okay, I'll be there in about forty-five minutes."

Callie had barely ended the call when she pulled the door closed and stepped out into the bright sunshine. The Chevy started, which was always a relief, and she backed out of the parking place and turned toward downtown. She couldn't believe her good luck. Just six hours a day at twenty dollars for maybe fifteen days would help her hold out until her first real payday at Peabody Strauss. It was way better than what she was used to making at Walmart.

When she got back to the Convention and Visitors Bureau, she walked to the desk in the lobby. It was the woman Monica had told she was going to lunch. "May I help you?"

"Yes, I'm looking for Monica Shirley."

"You must be Callie, I'm Samantha Mix. Monica is expecting you. Her office is through those doors and then the second door on the left."

"Thank you." Callie followed Samantha's directions and quickly found Monica's open door. She knocked on the door frame. Monica looked up and smiled.

"Callie, you don't realize how much you are helping me out." She stood and walked to the door and hugged her. "Before we do the paper work, I would like to take you over and let you see a hostess in action."

"Okay. Sounds good."

They walked over to the convention center with Monica explaining things along the way. On the first day, prior to the start of the first session, Callie would be assigned to the registration table. As soon as the convention got underway, all but two of the registration hosts would start rotating through the meetings and breakout sessions. Two would stay at the registration desk that would serve as an information desk. She met some of the hosts and hostesses and was able to see their uniforms. It was going to be necessary for her to buy a new blouse or two. After a few minutes at the convention, they walked back to Monica's office.

"So, does it look like something you would like to do?"

"Absolutely. This will keep me busy until I start to work at Peabody Strauss and it will make my transition to the real world, a little more comfortable."

Monica opened a folder on her desk. She took out a single page of paper and handed it to Callie. "This is our standard host/hostess contract."

Callie began to read.

Monica continued to talk. "It is extraordinary pay for part time work. Most of our hosts and hostesses are retirees looking for something to do. During the summer, we have a few college students. Some of our hosts and hostesses have been contracting with the Bureau for several years. Others have come and gone. Most of the contractors that don't work out don't come back after the first day. I'll check with you a couple times during the first two days to see how it's going. Like I was telling you, there are two more conventions next week and two more the next week. If you still want to do it after the first convention, I can use you Sunday, Monday and Tuesday next week for one convention and Wednesday, Thursday and Friday for another one, then the same schedule, the next week." Monica stopped talking and watched as Callie continued reading.

When she finished reading the contract, she picked up the pen on the desk and signed it. Monica signed below her signature in the proper spot. Monica took it to a copier and made a copy for Callie. She handed Callie a copy and said, "Welcome to the team."

"Thank you. I think."

Monica smiled. "I'm sure you'll do great. Are you still coming over to see the house this evening?"

"Yes. I'll see you at 6:15. I need to get going to do a little shopping so I'll be ready for tomorrow."

Callie stood. "Thanks Monica."

"Don't thank me. You are doing me a favor."

Callie left the office and walked to her car. She thought about going shopping, but changed her mind. She knew she had both a black skirt, black pants and two white blouses that would work. She remembered Monica's statement that most of the contractors that didn't work out didn't come back after the first day. She had never given up on anything that quickly in her life, but the reality of her checking account balance convinced her to resist the urge to buy new clothes for a part time job that might not pan out. She went back to the motel and pulled out the clothes she thought would work for her new short term job. She found her iron, and using a towel on the bathroom cabinet as an ironing board, she was able to get the wrinkles out of two outfits in a few minutes. She could wait until at least the end of the second day to spend any of her limited funds for clothes.

At 6:10, Callie parked in the street and walked to the front door. She pressed the button for the door bell and waited. The door opened and she said, "Stephanie?"

The young woman smiled and said, "Callie?"

She nodded. Stephanie pushed the door open and said, "Come on in and have a seat."

Stephanie led her into the living room and they sat on the couch. She smiled and said, "I almost didn't recognize you. The last time I saw you, you had curly, red hair."

"It has been a long time. I never colored it red after high school."

"Wow. I didn't really know you that well back in those days. To be honest, Monica had to remind me who you were. When did you do the red head thing?"

"It was the spring of my junior year I started playing kitchen beautician."

"You dated that new guy that came to town our senior year. What was his name?"

"Steve Burbank."

"That's right. What ever happened to him?"

"We drifted apart when he went to Knoxville and I went to Memphis. I haven't seen or heard from him since Christmas of 86."

"Monica tells me you just moved to town."

"Yeah, I've been in town since Saturday."

The sound of the garage door opening interrupted their conversation. "That must be Monica," Stephanie said, "It's incredible that Monica saw you today at the CVB. Around here, that's what we call the Convention and Visitors Bureau. It saves a lot of time and breath. Anyway, last night we were talking about how we were going to have to start looking for a new roommate."

Monica walked through the door at about that time. Stephanie commented, "You're home a little earlier than usual tonight."

"I didn't want Callie to have to wait too long for us to be able to talk. Have you shown her around?"

"No, she's only been here a few minutes. Go change clothes and we will start the tour." Monica disappeared down the hallway and Stephanie stood up. "I'll show you my room first."

They walked to the end of the hall and Stephanie opened the door. "You probably aren't that interested, but this is my room. It's not super huge or anything but it is a little larger than the other two bedrooms, and it has it's own bathroom, with a shower."

There wasn't much for Callie to say. She took a look at the bathroom and noticed the carpet in the bedroom was in pretty good condition.

Stephanie opened a door at the end of the hall, "This is a linen closet, but we use it for whatever." She stepped to the next closed door and opened it. "This will be your room. It is the same size as Monica's and you'll see hers in a minute. It looks like Debbie has moved some of her stuff out already. Last night, she said she was going to start moving today. I see she has taken all her pictures down."

Callie stepped into the room. The room was bigger than her half of her dorm room. Debbie's full size bed was still in the room, along with a chest of drawers and an old ladder back rocking chair like the Carters had on their sun porch, back in Greeneville. The window faced south, overlooking the front yard and the street. The sun would shine into the window during the winter. The closet wasn't huge but it was bigger than the one back at the dorm. It would be plenty large enough to hold all her clothes.

"We also have a coat closet in the living room."

"Oh, good," Callie said, as if a coat closet would make a difference in her decision making process. By this point, Callie had decided she would take it, as long as the kitchen was even marginally acceptable.

Monica opened her door and stepped into the hallway. "This is my room. It is the same size as yours. Have you seen the bathroom yet?"

"No."

Across the hall from Monica's bedroom was the bathroom. Monica took over the lead in the tour at this point. She stood in front of the closed door. "You won't find a picture of a bathroom like this in any of the home decorating magazines, unless you stumble upon a very old one. She laughed. "The first time my grandmother saw it, she loved it. I have to warn you, it is right out of the sixties, and it is blue." She stepped aside and opened the door for Callie.

"Wow, that is blue." Callie smiled and turned to Stephanie. "I can't say you didn't warn me." She had never seen so much blue in one room, before, in her life. The bathtub, lavatory and toilet were all blue. The flooring was one piece vinyl. It was another shade of blue. The walls were covered with blue ceramic tiles up about half way. Above the tiles, the wall was painted an off white color. There was an old gas wall heater, just inside the door. A window overlooked the back yard. There was a spot for a washing machine, but no washer. Overall, it was old and out of date, but very clean.

"You and I will share this bathroom. Debbie and I alternated cleaning it. She took the odd number months and I took the evens. We buy cleaning supplies out of the kitty money that is left over after paying the utilities. Stephanie is an accountant. She keeps up with the books." Monica rolled her eyes and said, "She insists we have a tenant meeting on the first and fifteenth of the month. She will send you an email reminder."

Callie gave her a questioning look. "Callie, it works. We talk about anything we need to do or any issues we need to take to the landlord."

Callie smiled. "Okay."

Monica said, "Come on this way to the kitchen."

Callie and Stephanie followed her. The kitchen was a surprise. There were no harvest gold or avocado green appliances in sight. It was an eat in kitchen that was larger than she expected. The table was fairly new and there were six matching chairs. The cabinets looked almost new and there was an automatic dishwasher.

"Come this way and I'll show you the garage and laundry room," Monica said.

They stepped into the two car garage and then the utility room.

"Here is the washer and dryer. I'm sure you noticed the spot for a washer in the bathroom. A long time ago when the landlord lived here, they didn't have a dryer. When he put in the dryer, he also moved the washer out here for his wife. Let's go back inside."

When they got back to the living room and sat down, the door opened. Stephanie turned to the door and then back to Callie. "Good, I was hoping you would get to meet Debbie."

Callie turned to the door and was shocked to see Debbie Saunders in the living room. She stood up. "I had no idea that Debbie was Debbie Saunders."

She met Debbie in the middle of the living room and they hugged.

Monica and Stephanie looked at each other in disbelief. Monica laughed and said, "I take it you two know each other."

Debbie smiled, "I'll say. Callie and I were counselors at a summer camp in West Virginia." She sat down on the sofa beside Callie. "How many summers were you there?"

"I worked there for two summers. I was nineteen and twenty and was counselor for a cabin with sixteen eleven year old girls."

"You wised up quicker than I did. I worked three summers. I had sixteen, ten year old girls in a cabin. It was a lot like herding cats."

They all laughed. Stephanie said, "So did you guys go to college together?"

Debbie said, "No. I guess we just both responded to the same ad in the back of a magazine. Really, why did you not come back after the second year?"

"I started working at Walmart after that summer and decided to work and take summer classes so I could stay in the dorm."

"So, do you think you can live with these two?" Debbie asked and pointed to the two women from Greeneville.

Callie looked first to Monica, then Stephanie. "I think so."

Stephanie and Monica were visibly relieved to have a new roommate, especially one that was not totally unknown to them.

"When can I start moving in?"

Monica turned to Debbie. "That all depends on Debbie."

"I can have all my stuff out of here tomorrow. Then it will be all yours."

Callie and Debbie started talking about old times. After a few awkward minutes, Monica stood and said, "I've got some things I need to pick up at the grocery store, if you'll excuse me."

"Sure," Callie said, "I'll see you at the CVB, tomorrow at 9:45."

Monica turned to Debbie. "I probably won't see you until Saturday night."

"Okay, see you then."

Stephanie stood up. "Bill is coming by to pick me up at seven thirty. I need to get ready. I guess you can start moving your stuff in as soon as Debbie is moved out." Stephanie held up a key. "Here, take this key so you'll have it when you need it. I guess I'll see you around."

"Thanks, Stephanie."

Stephanie left the room.

"So, you're getting married."

"Yes, I am."

"How did you get hooked up with these two?"

"Stephanie and another girl were living in the house and they put an ad in the paper."

"I'm confused. You have only been out of college for a couple years."

"Stephanie moved in before she graduated. She went to Vanderbilt."

"Oh."

"They were living here when I moved in. About a year later, the other girl moved out. Steph knew Monica was looking for a place and invited her to move in. It has worked out pretty well. Now it looks like there will be three Greeneville girls living here."

"I guess so."

Debbie took a deep breath. "I've got a little problem."

"Oh?"

"I've got to figure out what to do with the furniture in my bedroom. I thought we were going to put it in our third bedroom at our new place but his mom and dad just told him this afternoon that they are giving us a bedroom suit for a wedding present. We are supposed to go pick something out in the morning. Now we're going to have to move the furniture that we've already got set up in our bedroom to the third bedroom. I don't really have time this week to mess with this stuff, but you need it out of here so you can move your stuff in. I guess I'll call one of those donation places in the morning to come get it."

"Maybe we can help each other out."

"How so?"

"You need to get rid of this furniture. I need some furniture. How much would you take for it?"

"You want it?"

"Yes. I do."

"You can have it."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. If you want it, it is yours. That helps me out a bunch. If I don't have to do anything with the furniture, I'll be out of here tonight."

They talked for a few more minutes and Stephanie came out of her room, dressed for a night on the town.

"Guess what Steph." Debbie said.

"What?"

She smiled and looked at Callie. "I just sold my furniture to Callie. I'll have my stuff out of here tonight."

"Okay." The doorbell rang and everyone looked to the front door. "That must be Bill."

Stephanie opened the door and stepped out. "I guess I'll probably see you tomorrow, Callie."

Callie and Debbie both said, "Bye."

Callie turned to Debbie and frowned. "What was that about?"

"It will be easier for all involved if Stephanie believes I sold you my furniture."

"Why?"

"She wanted the rocking chair."

"Oh."

After Stephanie left with Bill, Callie helped Debbie gather the last of her belongings and packed them in her car. They walked back inside for Debbie to make one final pass through the house to make sure she didn't miss something. Convinced she had everything, they walked out together. When they got to Debbie's car, she started to get in, but stopped.

"Callie, I don't know what I was thinking. I would like to personally invite you to my wedding on Saturday." She reached into the car and came back with an envelope. "Here is an invitation. All the details are in here, along with a map. I hope you can come."

Callie accepted the invitation and gave her a hug. "I'm so glad you invited me. I'll see you on Saturday."

Chapter 2

Wednesday morning, Callie treated herself to breakfast on her way downtown. At 9:45, she reported for her new job at the Convention Center. Monica introduced her to the contractor supervisor, a woman named Gretta who looked to be in her early sixties. Gretta took her around and introduced her to the other hosts and hostesses. With introductions out of the way, she said, "Callie, you will pretty much shadow someone until we are confident that you understand and can play your role. Come with me. You need to know where our office is."

She led Callie down a hallway, past some storage and utility rooms, to a door marked Hospitality. She opened the door, stepped inside to turn on a light and said, "This is it. Come on in."

Callie followed her inside a room that resembled a large utility closet. It was a long narrow room which she guessed to be about ten feet wide by twenty feet long. A single eight foot long florescent fixture provided lighting. There were no windows. The floor was unfinished concrete that appeared to be stained with coffee and other unidentifiable liquids.

The only reason Callie didn't think it was a junk room was that Gretta had told her it was their office. The room smelled of stale coffee and cleaning fluid. Just inside the door was a coffee pot and microwave. The two appliances shared a table with what looked like a charging station for hand held radios. Two round tables with six chairs each gave the room the look of a depressing break room. A six foot long banquet table was setup along the far wall, with a battered, five drawer file cabinet at one end and a metal storage cabinet at other end. Above the table hung an overly large bank calendar. Gretta motioned for Callie to sit in an old banquet table chair beside the file cabinet. She rolled an executive chair that had the look of a cast off, from under the banquet table and sat down facing Callie.

"As you can probably imagine, I spend as little time as possible in this dungeon. This morning, I couldn't get around it." She turned to the table and picked up an envelope. She turned back to Callie and opened it. She pulled out a name badge and handed it to her new hostess.

Callie took the badge and looked it over. It was about two inches by three inches. On a brushed gold looking face it was engraved with Nashville Convention Center across the top and Callie centered below it. She looked to Gretta and said, "I'm impressed."

"I don't understand."

"I didn't get my paper work finished until the middle of yesterday afternoon."

Gretta smiled. "There is a print shop, just down the street that makes these for us. If we order by four, they deliver by nine."

"Oh."

"Come on, let's get back to the land of decent lighting and good coffee." She stood and walked to the storage cabinet. She pulled out a padlock and key and handed it to Callie. She pointed to a row of lockers Callie had not noticed behind the door. "Pick an empty locker and store your purse there. You can use this lock, or you can use your own. It's your choice."

Callie stowed her purse in an empty locker, locked it, and put the key on her ring with the Chevy key and her new house key. When they stepped outside the office and closed the door, Gretta handed Callie another key.

"We keep this door locked, but there are a lot of keys floating around. That is why we all lock up our purses, and lunches. We take a break in the morning and one in the afternoon. We have staggered lunches from 11:30 to 1:30. Some of us come down here for breaks and lunch and some don't. Personally, sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. If the weather is nice, I try to go outside. If at any time you think of a question, stop me. I have a tendency to go on and on." She smiled.

"I can't think of anything now."

"Come on then. It is really pretty easy. Before the meetings get started, we mostly check names off lists and direct people to rooms. After they get started, a few of us stay at the registration table that becomes the information table. There is usually at least one of us in each of the meetings, in case there are environmental or equipment issues. If there are, you either get in touch with me or whoever is acting for me. As soon as you are operating on your own you will have a two way radio." She smiled. "You seem like a smart girl. You'll probably be on your own by this afternoon."

They approached a bank of three tables. There was an empty chair behind the table. Gretta motioned to a woman sitting beside the empty chair to join them. When she was within hearing range, Gretta said, "Lois, this is the woman I told you about this morning. Her name is Callie Simon, she is going to be working with us." She turned to Callie. "Callie, this is Lois French. She is going to show you the ropes this morning."

The two women exchanged greetings and Lois directed her to sit in the empty chair beside her. For the rest of the morning, Callie mostly watched Lois work. Lois was a friendly woman that was the kind of woman Callie would have wanted for a grandmother, if she had one. Lois showed her what to do and as time went by, she let Callie do it. While the meeting was on break in the middle of the afternoon, Monica came by to check on her. She took Callie aside and asked, "How is it going?"

She smiled. "So far, so good. Lois has been showing me the ropes. It seems pretty straight forward."

A little apprehensively, she asked, "So, you will be back tomorrow?"

Callie smiled again. "Oh, absolutely."

Monica sighed with relief. "Good. I'm glad to hear it. Listen, I talked to Debbie last night. She told me you bought her furniture."

Callie grinned. She was very happy with her purchase. "I did."

"That's great. I know she was fretting about how she was going to get it all moved. Feel free to move in anytime now."

"That's great, I'll move in tonight. That will save me two more nights at the Ritz."

Monica looked confused. "The Ritz?"

She could see that Monica did not understand. "My motel, it's more like the rots."

"Oh, I get it. I better get back to the office. I'll see you at home tonight."

Lois located Callie as the break was coming to a close. "Callie, I think you're ready to fly solo." Lois handed her a two way radio with an earphone. "Clip this on your belt, put the earphone in your ear and you will be good to go. Try not to fall asleep in the meeting room."

Callie looked up in surprise.

Lois continued, "I'm just kidding. I know you won't do that. If you need anything at all, just step out of the meeting and call me. I'll be at the information desk for the rest of the afternoon."

Lois was right. Callie was ready. She walked into the meeting and took up a spot at the back of the room. As she sat, she started thinking about how her luck had changed lately. First, she stopped in at the Convention and Visitors Bureau and stumbled upon a place to live. Second, a good paying, easy, temporary job, more or less fell into her lap. And third, the roommate moving out of the house she found was an old friend that needed to get rid of her furniture, so she gave it to her. Maybe the perfect guy was just waiting out there for her, as well. She nearly fell out of her chair when that crazy thought ran through her mind. When the afternoon session was over, Callie walked to the information desk to find Lois.

"The afternoon session is over," Callie said as she approached.

"Alright. You are finished for the day. Take your radio back to the office, put it on a charger and you are ready to go. I'll look for you in the morning."

Callie flashed her a grin and said, "Okay. I'll see you then." She drove back to her motel and started packing. In fifteen minutes, she had everything loaded. She went to the office and paid for Wednesday night, but she saved two more nights by checking out early.

When she got to her new home, no one was there, so she parked inside the garage while she unloaded. After about eight or ten trips from the garage to the hallway outside her bedroom, the car was empty and she moved it to the end of the driveway. To make the room her own, she rearranged all three pieces of furniture before moving her things into the room. When she had everything unpacked and put away, she sat down in her new rocking chair and admired her new room. Eventually she thought she would buy matching bed linens and curtains and some pictures for the walls, but more critical today was her need to buy some groceries. She hadn't eaten since lunch.

Her roommates still hadn't made it home when she got back from the grocery store. "They must have really active social lives," she told herself, somewhat enviously. She fixed something to eat and they still weren't home. After dinner, she cleaned up the kitchen and made herself comfortable in the living room watching TV. After the ten o'clock news, she showered and went to bed.

When her clock radio came on at six o'clock on Thursday morning, she heard the shower running. She was glad she showered the night before. When she started getting ready for work she realized she needed to ad a mirror to her shopping list, and maybe some sort of makeup table. For this morning, she took her overnight bag to the living room and put on her makeup in front of a mirror there. She made a pot of coffee and was finishing up a bowl of cereal when Monica first appeared at the kitchen door, dressed for work and ready to walk out the door. "Good morning."

Callie replied, "Good morning. Late night?"

Monica smiled when she thought about the night before. "No, not too late. I was home by eleven thirty. I met Carl after work. What time did you go to bed?"

"10:30. I was tired and didn't have anything else to do."

Monica thought for a second and gave her a conspiratorial grin. "We'll have to see what we can do to change that."

Callie frowned. "I've never been one for doing a lot of socializing."

Monica looked serious as she thought back to high school. "As I remember, you always sort of stayed on the sidelines."

Callie smiled a sad smile. "That was me. You might as well say it. I don't mind. I was a wallflower, a Plain Jane."

Monica looked at her from head to toe and cocked her head to one side. "Look, Callie, you've got too much going for you to keep doing that. We don't have time to talk now, but Stephanie and I can help you get a new look if you're interested."

Callie was a little apprehensive. "I don't know."

Monica flashed her best smile. "Well, let's get to work now, but you think about it. Steph and I will both be home tonight. We'll talk then. I would offer you a ride to work, but I don't think we will get off at the same time this afternoon."

Callie was glad the subject changed. "That's fine. I'll see you in a few minutes."

Callie spent the first half of the day with two of the other hosts at the information desk. In the afternoon, she sat in on two break out sessions discussing irrigation equipment. It was fascinating, but she doubted the information would ever do her any good.

That evening, when Callie got home at six, Stephanie and Monica were waiting for her in the living room. Monica said, "Sit down, we need to talk."

Callie had to fight the urge to run out the front door or at least run to her room. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Absolutely not." Stephanie smiled. "Monica called me today and told me about you guys' conversation this morning."

Callie was relieved. "Oh, about that."

"Yes?" Monica said, leaning forward.

"I've been thinking about what you said Tuesday and this morning."

Monica temporarily looked puzzled. "What did I say Tuesday?"

"You told me you decided to go blonde when you moved here. You also said you wouldn't be going back to brunette. I've spent my whole life on the sidelines in social situations. The boys never paid any attention to me and now the men aren't either. I don't think I want to become a blonde, but now that I will be making some real money I would like to get some nice clothes, learn to use makeup and get something done with my hair. Do you think you guys could help me do all that?"

"Oh, absolutely," Stephanie enthusiastically answered for both of them. "You mentioned three things, clothes, hair and makeup." She stopped for a second. "Can we take a look at your closet?"

Callie looked at them skeptically. "When?"

Monica smiled to reassure her. "Right now would be good. Debbie told me she invited you to her wedding. Would you rather go as the new you or the old you?"

Callie smiled a hopeful smile. "Absolutely, the new me."

"Great, let's have a look." Stephanie stood and started walking to Callie's room. Callie got to her closet door first.

"I need to tell you something before I open the door. My wardrobe is very limited. You remember I lived in foster homes from the time I was three, until I went to college. Since high school, I've worked whatever jobs I could get, to pay my way through college."

"Don't worry," Monica said, as Callie pulled the door open and stepped to the side. Her roommates looked into the closet and found that she had not exaggerated. There were less than a dozen hangers in the closet. She watched for their reaction as they surveyed the situation. At first there was total silence. Then Stephanie said, "Let's see your makeup."

Callie picked up her overnight bag and dumped it onto her bed.

"Okay, let's go back to the living room," Monica said and reached for Callie's hand. Stephanie followed closely behind.

When they were back in the living room sitting down again, Callie said, "I can understand if you want to back out. I know I'm a lost cause."

"Callie, sweetie, you are far from a lost cause," Stephanie said and looked to Monica for support.

Monica took up the sell. "I admit, there is a lot to do to change you from wallflower to hottie, but we can help you do it. Would you say that your wardrobe has been most limited by funds?"

Callie nodded. "That and not knowing what to buy."

Monica looked at Stephanie and then back to Callie. "I think we can help you with those two things."

"How?"

Stephanie jumped back into the conversation. "I need to ask you some questions, first. Question 1. Do you have school loans?"

"Yes, a little less than $3000."

Monica looked pleased. "That's not too bad."

"Question 2. Do you have a credit card?"

"Actually I do. I got it the spring I should have graduated. I use it a little, but I try to pay it off every month. Right now it has a zero balance."

"That is great. We didn't look, but I'm going to guess that most of the clothes in your dresser are jeans and tee shirts.

"That's right."

"With your new job, you are going to be expected to dress in a certain way. I promise, you need to look the part, if you are going to advance."

Callie looked a little dejected. "I know."

Stephanie took her hand. "Your line of work is not that different from mine or Monica's when it comes to wardrobe. We can help you learn to buy the right clothes. "

"Okay."

"If you had a trust fund to draw from, this wouldn't be difficult. We would go to the mall and start shopping. You don't, do you?"

"No."

"Okay, so you are going to have to build your wardrobe slowly and carefully. It will be a matter of setting priorities and making buys to meet those priorities. If you were the same size as either of us, we could help you supplement your wardrobe by loaning you some of our clothes, but that obviously won't work here."

They all three looked at each other and laughed. Stephanie stood a full foot taller than either Monica or Callie and Callie would more or less overflow every outfit she had seen Monica wear.

"So, what am I going to do?"

"You are going to buy coordinates at consignment shops. You are wearing a pair of pants now that you can match with coordinating tops. You just need some more like that and then some tops."

Monica asked, "You mentioned buying some more clothes for your hostess job. Have you done that?"

"No."

"Good."

Callie looked puzzled.

Monica looked at her and smiled. "If your money is tight you need to spend your money on clothes you can wear to your new job. We have a washer and dryer here. Now, for the fun part. As you are buying your work clothes, think about how you can wear some of them when you go out at night."

"I don't go out very much."

"You haven't in the past, but that is going to change, remember?"

"Okay? How am I going to do all this and still afford to pay my rent?"

"For some time, while you are assembling your wardrobe, you will need to plan on spending a pretty substantial amount of your paycheck on clothes. Fortunately, you didn't come out of college with a lot of debt."

"Okay, guys, that is good, but there is a pressing problem."

"What is it?" Monica asked.

"Debbie's wedding."

"Oh, you're right. That would be a great opportunity to introduce the new you, but you don't have the clothes, shoes or makeup for it. If you don't mind me asking, what do your finances look like now?"

"After I gave you my check for rent for the rest of the month, I have enough for my car insurance and the June rent."

Stephanie said, "Okay. You have one more paycheck coming from your old job, right?"

"I do."

The accountant in Stephanie analyzed the situation. "Then you'll have all the money from your contract work at the CVB. If you feel like you can spend half the CVB money on clothes and shoes, you'll be in pretty good shape, as far as clothes go, when you start your new job."

"I've got an idea," Monica said. "You get paid Friday afternoon. Friday night or Saturday morning I'll take you to my favorite consignment shop. We'll find you a dress for Saturday night. Hopefully we'll find shoes too."

Callie was surprised. "You shop at consignment shops?"

"Of course. The good old CVB doesn't pay me that well. Besides, why would I want to pay full price if I can get bargains at a consignment shop?"

"Good point."

"Okay, now that we have a plan, let's go get something to eat. After we eat we'll go to one of the big department stores and let one of their makeup girls to make you over. Then we'll help you pick out some makeup."

Friday morning, Callie came to breakfast looking like she had on Wednesday and Thursday. Monica took one look at her and said, "Why did you buy all that makeup last night if you're not going to use it?"

Callie looked a little sheepish and shrugged. "I don't know."

"I don't know, either. Now young lady, go back to your room and fix yourself up like the girl taught you last night."

Callie grinned. "Yes, Ma'am."

"You know I'm just messing with you?"

"Yes, I know." She turned around and left the kitchen. Ten minutes later she came back looking very much like she had the night before.

Monica set her coffee down. "Now that's much better. You look like the new Callie again. Now remember, the look is only part of it. Remember to be more assertive. When you walk somewhere, walk with purpose. When you talk to someone, remember that they are interested in what you have to say. Don't forget, we are going shopping after work. When you get off at three, come to my office."

"Yes, mother."

"Ha, ha. We don't have to do this."

"Don't get me wrong. I want to do this, but I have to warn you. You may have to prod me along from time to time."

"Alright, do you want to ride to work with me today?"

"Sure."

"Let's go."

Gretta noticed something different about Callie on Friday morning but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Wednesday and Thursday, she had worn very little make up. Friday, she appeared to have put on a little more and she had a more sophisticated look. She also seemed a little more enthusiastic about her job. Gretta thought it might just be that it was Friday, pay day and the beginning of the weekend.

Callie wasted no time getting to Monica's office at the end of the day. She was waiting in the outer office at 3:15. By 3:30, they were on their way to Cinderella's Closet, a high end consignment shop in an exclusive part of town. When they got there, Monica reminded her of their objectives for the day. Callie needed to find something to wear to the wedding, but it should be something that she could wear to fancy parties or formal events in the future. Monica said, "It should be black, as short as you are comfortable wearing, and low in the front, to show off the girls."

"Okay, but this may be one of those times you have to push me in the right direction. I've never had a black dress and the dresses I have bought in the past have been long in the hem and high on the neck. The girls have never seen the light of day in public."

"Well, you've got them, you might as well put them to work for you."

"I'm not sure about this."

"Don't worry. We won't get something too daring. Stick with me and I'll get you through it."

Callie stopped at the door. "Since you know what you're doing, why don't you pick out things for me. It will probably save time."

"Okay. You know you are going to need shoes for this fancy dress."

"I know. You're probably going to make me get heels."

"You are getting the idea. Come on." Monica opened the door and waited for Callie to step inside. With Monica's help, Callie found the little black dress that she needed for Saturday in short order. Callie was shocked to find a dress that still had the tags on it at a consignment shop. She couldn't imagine getting rid of a dress she had never worn. Her clothes were usually threadbare when she finally threw them out. They also found some heels as well as some sensible black shoes that she could wear to work. She also picked out a couple outfits that she would be able to wear to work at Peabody Strauss. She couldn't resist another black skirt and white blouse that she could wear at the CVB as well as Peabody Strauss later.

On Saturday afternoon when they finished getting ready for the wedding, Callie couldn't believe the woman that was grinning back at her from the mirror. Monica had helped her with her hair and make up. "I can't believe what you've done to me."

"It's not bad is it?"

"Absolutely not."

"It's nothing that you can't do for yourself. It just takes a little time and practice. Now, when we get there, don't allow yourself to blend into the woodwork. Mingle. Weddings are great places to meet men. The men that go to weddings are at least somewhat aware of the the concept of marriage. Your assignment this evening is to flirt. Meet men and exchange numbers. Remember, the new you is smart, fun, confident, attractive and self assured. Men will be standing in line to talk to you."

Callie thought about what Monica said. "Wow. I would probably like to talk to me, too, if that was the case."

"Don't forget to exchange phone numbers."

The three beautiful roommates rode together to the wedding in Stephanie's new Oldsmobile because it was the nicest of their three cars. Before they left home, they had Callie practice walking back and forth through the living room until Monica was satisfied that she was carrying herself correctly. They were about to walk out the door when Stephanie noticed Callie's purse absolutely did not go with her dress and shoes.

"Wait just a minute," she said and hurried to her room. She returned to the living room in a few seconds with a black clutch purse. She handed Callie the purse and waited for her reaction.

Callie looked first at the little purse and then back to Stephanie. She smiled. "There is no way I can get all my stuff in this little thing."

"Callie, you don't need to carry all the stuff you lug around in that pack you call a purse. All you really need is your ID, a little cash, maybe a credit card and your keys."

"Okay, okay." She pulled out the few items Stephanie listed along with breath spray and a handkerchief. She put it into the little clutch and said, "I think I'm ready."

Monica looked her over from head to toe and said, "That's better. Now remember, you are a confident, smart, interesting, beautiful woman. Men want to talk to you."

Callie laughed. "If you say so. I feel like my same old plain self in somebody else's dress."

Stephanie took her by the hand and led her to the mirror. "Look at yourself, you are beautiful. Know it, believe it, act like it, and you will be it. Now come on, we want to be early enough to get you noticed."

As two of the roommates expected, they caused quite a stir when they walked into the hotel where the wedding was being held. Monica and Stephanie were known to most of the Bride and Groom's friends, but the stir among the men in attendance was caused by the woman in the spectacular black dress and high heels that came in with them.

The three women were ushered into the hall and seated on the bride's side. When they were seated, and the ushers had returned to their posts, Monica noticed that Callie was smiling. "What's going on?"

"The usher asked me if I would dance with him at the reception."

"You mean, James?"

She grinned. "I don't know what his name is, but he is cute."

Stephanie asked, "Are you going to dance with him?"

"I almost have to, or you guys would probably make me walk home."

"We wouldn't do that."

"I know."

The wedding ceremony was beautiful, but Callie became distracted as her thoughts ran to the idea of dancing with James at the reception. Monica interrupted her daydreams when she tugged at Callie's arm to get her to stand up as the couple marched down the aisle as husband and wife.

At the reception, Callie danced with James, and all the other ushers, as well as quite a few other men. She was actually relieved when Stephanie hinted that it was time to go home. She was exhausted, but giddy.

Sunday morning, Callie was eating a bowl of cereal when Monica walked into the kitchen. She looked up from her breakfast. "I want to thank you for all your help."

"What are you talking about?"

"For everything, the dress, the makeup, a place to live, a job, everything. You have made me feel valuable. I can't get over how good I felt at the wedding. I felt beautiful and desirable. That's never happened to me before. I've spent my entire life feeling incomplete and insignificant."

"Callie, you are welcome, but the woman at the wedding has always been inside you. Stephanie and I just helped you find her."

"That outfit made me feel like a million bucks."

"It wasn't just the clothes."

"Come on. I know better."

"Callie you are wrong. Will you do something for me?"

"Sure."

"Show the same attitude you did at the wedding when you go to work this week and when you do your everyday stuff and see what happens."

She decided to take Monica's advice when she returned to work. Her clothes were the same as last week. She put on her makeup like she learned at the department store, but the main change was in her attitude. It made all the difference. In the next two weeks, she was called by two men she just met. She actually went on a date with James. By the time she finished up her contract work for the Convention and Visitors Bureau, she was in the best financial shape of her life, but most importantly, she had developed a new outlook on life.

Chapter 3

On Monday morning, June 1st, Callie arrived at the Peabody Strauss Nashville Division office, fifteen minutes early. The doors of the elevator opened into an impressive lobby on the eighth floor. Across the lobby, a reception desk displayed the Peabody Strauss logo on its front face. The receptionist saw her, looked down for a second and then watched her every step as she approached the desk.

A name plate on the desk read, "Jenifer Strauss." Callie was all set to introduce herself when the young woman said, "You must be Callie Simon."

She smiled. "Yes, I am. How do you know?"

The receptionist smiled a warm smile in return. "I'm a psychic."

"Really?"

She laughed. "Heavens no, I have a list of the new hires that are reporting today, and the other two women on my list are already here."

Callie's heart sank. "Am I late?"

"Oh no, you're early. There are still two men that haven't arrived yet. By the way, I'm Jenifer Strauss." She paused a second and then added, "I'm not related to the founder. You can call me Jen."

"It's nice to meet you, Jen."

"It's nice to meet you Callie. Come with me," she said as she stepped around the desk and ushered Callie into a conference room. Just inside the door, Jen stopped at a table. She picked up a folder with Callie's name on the outside and handed it to her. She also handed her a lanyard with an ID badge with her name on it. There was obviously a spot for a photo on the badge, but it was blank.

"You will need to wear your ID at all times when you are in the office. Most everyone prefers a lanyard instead of pinning it to your clothes so they started providing one but you aren't required to use it. You can use any lanyard of your choice. You will see quite a variety around here. It has sort of become a way for us to express ourselves and our interests and causes. The folder has some orientation materials and some forms that you will be filling out this morning. You don't need to start filling them out yet. We have some pastries and coffee and juice for you, this morning. Mr. Patterson will be in at about 9:15. Until then, meet the other new hires, have a pastry and coffee or juice and find a seat at the conference table."

Callie saw that everyone was wearing their lanyards so she slipped hers over her head. She turned to say something to Jen, but when she did, she saw Jen making her exit. She was already through the door, on her way back to her post. Callie's gaze then drifted to the four nervous looking individuals in the conference room. Two men and two women. Callie didn't know what they knew, but she now knew there were three women and four men expected this morning. She wasn't sure if that information held any value for her, but she decided to keep it to herself. The two women held foam cups with some sort of drink. They had found seats about midway down one of the long sides of the oval conference table. Callie assumed Mr. Patterson would take a seat so that his back would be to the window. She walked to the position at the table to the right hand of where she expected him to sit and deposited her folder. She walked to the refreshment table and poured a cup of coffee. It wasn't bad, for office coffee. She looked around the room. She reminded herself that she was smart, fun, confident, attractive and self assured and then proceeded to introduce herself to everyone in the room.

She introduced herself to Kathrine and Brenda and sat down at the table across from them. Kathrine was newly graduated from Vanderbilt and Brenda from Louisville. Two more men entered the room with Jen, right at nine o'clock. As she had done with Callie, Jen gave them their folders, their ID badges and the speech and then left the room. The two new guys set their folders back on the table where they got them and went for coffee. They gravitated to the first two guys in the room. Callie gave them a few minutes and then left the women at the conference table. She walked over to the group and introduced herself. Jerry, Brian, Bruce and Richard were their names. She quickly learned that Jerry graduated from Ohio State, Brian was a SMU grad, Bruce was from Ole Miss and Richard graduated from Cincinnati. She immediately noticed Bruce and Brian wearing wedding rings. She felt creepy, when she talked to Richard. All during their conversation, his eyes kept settling to her chest. Jerry struck her as a really nice guy, but she had already decided that anyone at work would be strictly off limits. She was most interested in her career. Her social life, if it was going to exist, would have to exist outside the office. By the time she met everyone, Callie figured out she was probably the oldest of the trainees and even though the difference was at most, two years, she felt a surge of confidence. It also could have something to do with the fact that she had been in the workforce since she was sixteen. It didn't hurt that she was becoming comfortable with her new look and outlook on life, thanks to Stephanie and Monica. For two of her fellow trainees, it was their first day on their first paying job.

After introductions, Callie walked to the conference table and made herself comfortable in the chair she had claimed. She began to talk with Kathrine and Brenda across the table. Callie's initial impression of Kathrine was that she might be a diva, but after talking to her a few minutes, she decided they might possibly become friends.

Kathrine asked, "Do you guys have apartments yet?"

"No, I'm in a house," Callie responded, "I came to town right after graduation last month and ran into an old classmate from high school. She and another girl from back home rent a house with another friend of mine. My friend got married the week I came to town and moved out. Lucky for me, I ran into her and now I'm all set."

"I'm still looking. I have been for a week. I could stay in the apartment I had during college but would like to move up, at least a little bit." Katherine added.

Brenda smiled and said, "Rick and I have a place rented about two miles from here."

"Rick?" Katherine asked.

She held up her left hand and smiled. "My husband. We've been married about six months."

At about ten minutes after nine, the men began to migrate to the conference table. Bruce and Jerry took seats across from Callie. Katherine and Brenda were already in the next two places. Brian sat beside Callie and Richard took the seat at the end of the table.

At 9:15, the door opened and a man entered the room. He carried a three ring binder and a mug of coffee. He had the look of a boss. He stopped to warm up his coffee and then walked to the table. Callie watched him closely, especially after she saw Richard sit at the end of the table. When he saw someone in his seat, he frowned. He walked straight to him. He smiled and extended his hand. "I'm Paul Patterson."

Richard stood, reached for his hand and shook it. "It is nice to meet you Mr. Patterson. I'm Richard Rhodes."

"Richard, would you mind moving to another chair? I usually sit there."

"Yes, sir, I mean no, sir," Richard stammered, "I didn't realize it was your chair. I'm sorry." Richard turned red with embarrassment and couldn't gather his folder and coffee quick enough to get out of the boss's place. "I apologize, sir." He settled into the next seat past Brian. For Richard, his first day at a paying job would always be memorable, but not in a good way.

Mr. Patterson set his notebook and coffee on the table and sat down. "Good morning and welcome to Peabody Strauss Nashville. I am Paul Patterson. I'm Division Vice President for Peabody Strauss Nashville. You young women and men are seven of the newest members of the Peabody Strauss Team. Each year we hire six to ten new graduates at each of our Division offices. As you know from your interview, you were hired for a training position. You will be in your position for up to a year. As you know, we make our money when our clients buy and sell stocks, but there is much more to our business than simply buying and selling stocks. That is why each of our new team members are given extensive training in all phases of our operations. Beginning today, you will begin a four week orientation process. During the next four weeks you will be introduced to all the working groups within Peabody Strauss. At the end of the orientation phase, you will choose three of the working groups that interest you, for further training. You will train with each of the selected groups in a three month rotation. You will be evaluated at the end of four, seven and ten months."

He paused and looked around the table. The silence was deafening. "We don't like to think about it on your first day, but some of you may not be with us after ten months. After ten months, you will be evaluated and receive two months of additional training with one of your three selected groups. At the end of twelve months, you will be evaluated and transfered to a permanent position. That position could be here but it will most likely be at another of our offices. Especially early in your career, Peabody Strauss believes exposure to multiple locations makes a more productive team member."

Mr. Patterson paused and made eye contact with each person at the table. Then he began again. "Peabody Strauss is a very rewarding place to work. It is also a very demanding place to work. Over the past fifteen years, forty-two percent of our new hires are still with us after five years. On the other side of the ledger, forty-five percent of our new hires are no longer with us after a year. Twenty-five percent of our new hires are no longer with us after six months. I don't say that to scare you. We just don't want anyone to believe that Peabody Strauss is a place where someone just hangs out for eight hours a day for a pay check."

A door opened at the back of the room and a woman entered the room and took a seat near the other end of the conference table. Mr. Patterson smiled and continued his remarks. "The first thing we want to do today is to get your picture on your security badge. I'm glad to see that everyone is already wearing their ID badge. Mary Watkins joined us a few moments ago. She is our physical security manager. In a few minutes you will go with her to get pictures taken for your security badges. One thing you will learn rather quickly is that security is very important to us. Mary is going to tell you all about your responsibilities for all kinds of security. One of her team members will take your picture and finish processing your ID badge, which is also your key to the office. Losing your ID badge is grounds for dismissal. You don't want to lose your ID badge. When you are finished with Mary and her group, she will take you to Human Resources. They will help you complete the forms in your welcome packet. They will also show you to your office spaces that have already been assigned. By the time you finish with HR, it should be lunch time. After lunch, you will meet back here. Our Information Technology Group Leader will be here to talk about the computer that will be delivered to your office tomorrow, as well as computer usage and data security policies. You assured us during your interview that you know how to use a computer. The IT Group will tell you everything you need to know to stay out of trouble with your computer. Do you have any questions?" Of course, there were none.

"I'm going to turn you over to Miss Watkins now."

Mary Watkins walked to the head of the table as Paul Patterson walked out the door.

The first few days at Peabody Strauss passed in a blur. There were new people to meet almost daily. Callie was grateful for the ID badges more than one time as she struggled to remember names of those she had met previously. There was one thing that seemed to be consistent with each new working group the trainees met. Each group held a steadfast belief that their group did the most important work in the firm.

Even though they were hired as Analyst Trainees, the group of seven was introduced to the Human Resources, Procurement and Facilities Management Groups. They were provided training regarding Information Technology to enable them to operate their computers on the Peabody Strauss data network. The trainees learned there was a group that serviced customer's transactions, a group that actually made the trades in the markets and a group that researched the different companies and stock issues. There was a group that was involved with promoting the Peabody Strauss brand to the public. There were groups that internally monitored the activities of the other groups. They were presented so much information in such a short amount of time that some days, Callie went home with a brain overload.

After her first payday at Peabody Strauss, Callie was a little disappointed. She was satisfied with the salary she was to earn when she was hired, but she realized she made more as a contractor for the Convention and Visitors Bureau in two weeks than at Peabody Strauss, in two weeks. She mentioned it at home and Monica reminded her that there were no taxes withheld from her Convention and Visitors Bureau contract work. She felt some better. She also knew that the permanent positions at Peabody Strauss paid much better than her current trainee position and with advancement she would earn even more.

At the end of the first month, the new hires experienced their first casualty. Richard packed his few personal belongings, turned in his computer and ID badge and left, never to return. He felt like he got off on the wrong foot with the boss on the first day and never recovered. Brian, Bruce and Jerry tried to convince him he was imagining things, but he couldn't be convinced.

When it was time to submit their three choices for training with the different groups, Callie was the only member of the group of six not to request training with the Account Representatives Group. She really liked what she saw in the Research Group. Her other two choices were the Internal Control, and the Customer Services Groups.

Her first training rotation was with the Customer Services Group. Time seemed to drag. Her years of retail experience helped her understand the work, but she didn't necessarily like it. Three months of work with the Internal Control Group resulted in her developing a skeptical point of view regarding all areas of her life. Toward the end of those three months, Stephanie and Monica started counting the days until she started a new rotation.

The day she began her rotation with the Research Group, she knew she had found her niche. She was very interested as the staff members explained the roll of the Research Group in the overall operation. Her involvement was very limited, at first, but she enjoyed the search for facts to explain trends in individual stock issues as well as companies. She found that she enjoyed digging into the conditions of new and old companies. Her training researcher quickly recognized her aptitude and enthusiasm and brought it to the attention of the group leader. For her advanced training, Callie stayed with the Research Group.

During the period of advanced training, Brenda decided to leave the trainee program. She decided to pursue something else. During their year as trainees, the five, which were the seven, became rather close friends. Toward the end of the year, whenever they had time to talk, they speculated about where their next assignments would be. On evaluation day at the end of their training, to a person, they were pleased with their supervisor's recommendation for a career path. Callie had discussed staying in Nashville with the group leader from Research, but he just did not have a spot for her. He assured her, on multiple occasions, that he would put in a good word for her to get a good assignment.

Callie's career goals included working in the New York office at some point in the future, but a Research Analyst I position, in the New York office was way beyond her highest hopes, so early in her career. When the assignments were announced, she was surprised, shocked and pleased to find herself assigned to just that position. Jerry got to stay in Nashville. Bruce was transferred to the Seattle office, Brian transferred to Chicago, and Kat transferred to Denver.

From the first, Callie's roommates knew she would probably only be with them for a year. For several weeks in the spring, she reminded them that her time in Nashville could end soon. The day she came home with news she was moving to New York, there wasn't a dry eye in the house.

Chapter 4

Callie had not lived in New York City very long when she realized it was way too expensive for her to maintain a car in the city, especially when the car was ancient and not worth a thousand dollars to anyone but her. She sold the old Chevette to a used car dealer in New Jersey and began learning to live without personal transportation at her fingertips. It was a good thing her Research Analyst I, position in New York had a significantly higher salary than the training position in Nashville, because everything was more expensive. Her apartment in Queens was twice the price of her part of the house in Nashville and not as big as the combination of her bedroom and any one of the other rooms in the house. The limited storage space in the apartment and small appliances forced her to learn to buy smaller quantities of food and shop more frequently. Eventually she began to justify eating most of her meals out.

She continued to enjoy her job and continued to become more proficient. While her social life, at best, sputtered from time to time, her career progressed nicely. Callie's supervisor found her work to be first rate and gave her assignments beyond the capabilities of most level I Research Analysts, just to see if she could do the work. She never disappointed him. She was promoted to Research Analyst II after a year. Along with more challenging work, she got another raise. She moved to a nicer apartment and upgraded her wardrobe. She slowly began to think of New York as home. By the time she observed the fourth anniversary of her arrival in New York, she had all but quit looking forward to the day she could return to Tennessee.

In September of 1997, while attending a three day training course on computer spreadsheets, Callie attracted the attention of another student. On the first day, C. Bartlett Kramer caught her first name, but nothing more. There was something intriguing about the assertive, smiling brunette sitting across the room from him that already seemed to know all about spreadsheets. Being the resourceful young attorney that he was, he introduced himself and learned her last name and where she worked during a break on the second day. On the third and final day of class, he suggested they go out for drinks after class. She told him she had another commitment that afternoon and declined his invitation. She returned to work the next day and forgot all about him. Needless to say, he didn't make the impression on her that she made on him.

He went back to work the next day, but Callie Simon kept hanging out in the corner of the back of his mind. Over the next few days, he couldn't believe he hadn't at least tried to get her phone number. When he was still thinking about her after a month, he instructed his secretary to find a telephone number for Callie Simon at Peabody Strauss. While he was away from the office, she found the number and left a note with Callie's name and number on his desk. He got busy and didn't find the note for three days.

When he found it, he called, got her voice mail and hung up. The third time he reached her voice mail, he left a message. "This is Bart Kramer. I hope you remember me. I can't seem to forget you. We met at the computer spreadsheet class, about a month ago. I would really like to get together with you sometime. My number is 555-0837."

Callie got his message and went so far as to write down his name and phone number. She talked it over with a friend and decided not to call him back. She wasn't sure she even remembered exactly who he was. They decided if he was serious, he would call back. Two days later, he did. Again, she was away from her desk. "This is Bart Kramer again. Callie, I'm wondering now if this is really your number. The message says it's your number and it sounds like you, but maybe it is an old number that hasn't been assigned to someone else yet. Please call me back. My number is 555-0837."

This time, she decided to call the number. When she called, he was in a meeting and couldn't answer the phone. She laughed at the irony and left a message. "This is Callie Simon. You really have my phone number, but I spend a lot of time away from my desk. It appears you do too."

After his meeting, Bart listened to his message, and returned her call.

She picked up the phone on the second ring. "Callie Simon." She paused.

"Ah ha, you do answer your phone sometimes."

She recognized his voice from the messages and decided to have some fun at his expense. "I am not at my desk at this time. If you will leave your name and number I'll call you back."

"Oh, no, not again. This is Bart Kramer." When he heard laughing, he stopped in mid-phrase.

"Gotcha," she said and continued to laugh.

"So you're a comedian."

"I might be. Are you a phone stalker?"

"Absolutely not."

"Why are you calling me?"

"When we met at the computer class, I thought for sure I would like to get to know you. If you remember, I asked you out for drinks on the last day of class."

"Now I remember you. I had an appointment that afternoon."

"Did you really?"

"I really did."

"Why didn't you call me back when I left my first message?"

"I don't call men that I don't know."

"You met me at the computer class."

"But I don't know you."

"But you do."

"Attention, it's my rule. I apply it where and when I want."

"Well, would you like to go out for drinks sometime?"

"Sure, but I've got to go now. Bye." The line went dead in his hand. When he immediately redialed the number, it went to voice mail. He slammed down the receiver. "That blasted woman."

"Did you say something Mr. Kramer?" his secretary asked from just outside his door.

"Nothing important."

A week later, he dialed the number and Callie answered the call. "So, you do answer your phone sometimes."

"Who is this?" she demanded, even though she thought she recognized his voice.

"Bart Kramer."

"Hi, Bart."

"Would you like to go out with me for drinks this afternoon?"

"I'm sorry. I can't make it this afternoon. I'm leaving on a little vacation as soon as I can get to the airport after work. I might even sneak out a few minutes early."

"How about when you get back?"

"I don't know. I'll have to wait and see."

"You know you are killing me."

She laughed. "Maybe." She heard him sigh. "Bart, call me next Monday. I think you will have better luck then."

"I will?"

"Yes."

"Have fun on your trip."

"Thanks. Bye."

"I'll talk to you Monday, bye." He hung up the phone and went back to work.

Over the course of the weekend, Callie tried to remember just exactly who this Bart Kramer guy was. She had only talked to him, face to face, twice. By Sunday night, when she got home, she decided it wouldn't hurt to meet him for drinks sometime. She had to admit that he was persistent, if nothing else. She also remembered he was kind of cute. If he called again, she decided she would agree to meet him.

On Monday, everything at the law offices of Singleton, Rogers and Judd was thrown into turmoil. A major client of the firm was notified they were being sued by someone in Milwaukee, alleging gross negligence and wrongful death. Bart was dispatched to Milwaukee to begin gathering facts to mount a defense. Calling Callie never crossed his mind until many busy days later.

On Wednesday evening, Callie remembered that the guy from her computer class was supposed to have called on Monday. "Well, that's that," she said. She opened her day planner, pulled out the piece of paper with his name and number, and dropped it into the trash can.

Callie got busy with a new research assignment and Bart spent three weeks in Milwaukee. Neither thought about the other. Their ships had passed in the afternoon, and kept right on going.

Chapter 5

The annual Peabody Strauss Christmas Party was quite a spectacle, especially in the good years. Her coworkers joked that you could predict the size of the year end bonus by the location and guest list of the party. This year the party was going to be held at the Waldorf Astoria. Expectations were running very high. Last year, the party had been held at a mid town hotel ball room and Callie had decided not to attend, but changed her mind at the last minute under duress from one of her office friends. This year she planned to attend, and she even bought a new dress for the occasion.

On the night of the party, when she stepped into the lobby of the hotel, a man stood and approached her as she reached the welcome desk for the party. She thought she recognized him.

"C. Bartlett Kramer, at your service."

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, it just so happens that Singleton, Rogers and Judd, does some work for Peabody Strauss. Our firm was on your guest list and tonight I am the official representative of the firm."

"Well, Mr. Kramer, I thought perhaps you were dead or something."

He was momentarily taken aback. "I assure you that I am not."

"You said you were going to call me on a certain Monday, as I recall." She held her face in a stern expression.

"I did, and I must apologize. On that particular Monday morning I was dispatched to Milwaukee where I remained, for three weeks, embroiled in defense preparation for what will be a major trial. After so long, I thought it best to hope to run into you this evening. It appears that fate has once again brought us to the same place in time."

She smiled. "I suppose that means we can finally have that drink together."

He smiled with relief. "It is my hope that it will be the first of many." He offered her his arm and they walked in to the party together.

"Do you always speak with such a dramatic flourish?"

"Not really. Mostly just when I'm nervous."

"There is no need to be nervous."

He looked at her and smiled, warmly.

The first year Callie was in New York, she made an appearance at the Peabody Strauss Christmas party, but she did not use the and guest portion of her invitation. She stayed for an hour or so and left. In 1994, she brought a guest but it was a disaster. He over indulged at the open bar and was eventually put into a cab by an embarrassed Callie Simon. She skipped the next Christmas party and vowed never to bring another guest to the party. Last year she made a token appearance to satisfy her friend Paula who was constantly trying to fix her up with someone.

Once inside the party, Bart asked her, "Have you been to many of these?"

"This is the fourth I've attended since I've been here. I skipped one. To tell the truth, I usually don't stay very long. I make sure I've been seen and slip out."

"Well, this is my third. Singleton, Rogers and Judd usually gets an invitation and I usually try to wrangle it for myself. You guys throw one of the better parties in town."

"You seem to know more about it than I do."

He smiled. "I hope you don't plan to rush away tonight."

"Really, why?"

"The dance starts later and you look like you would be a good dancer."

"Looks can be deceiving, Mr. Kramer. I wear two left shoes."

He looked down, and she laughed. "Gotcha."

He looked up into her eyes and smiled. "I suppose you did."

They talked and snacked on finger foods as they made the rounds of the room. It seemed that Bart knew more people at the party than Callie did. He introduced her to more people than she would remember. She managed to introduce him to Paula. She hoped Paula would see it as a sign that she could quit trying to set her up with every eligible man she knew.

When the band started playing, Bart found an empty spot on a table to ditch their drink glasses. "Would you like to dance?"

"I haven't been dancing in years."

"Dancing hasn't really changed that much."

"Since junior high?"

"It will come back to you. Come on." Bart took her by the hand and led her to the dance floor. She was tentative at first, but he was right. It did come back to her. In a few minutes she was dancing and didn't feel like everyone was watching her. The fast dances were okay, but her whole opinion of dancing changed when the band played a slow song. At her junior high, slow dances were not allowed. Swaying to the beat of a slow song in Bart Kramer's arms at the Peabody Strauss Christmas Party was a turning point in her life.

In the days and weeks after the Christmas Party, Bart and Callie began a whirlwind romance. Roses on her desk rarely had time to wilt before a fresh bouquet arrived. She began spending all her off time with him.

Before she started seeing Bart, she spent time after hours with a group of friends from the office. Early on in their relationship, they noticed they seldom saw her after hours anymore without him. In June, Bart and Callie went away for a romantic weekend in the Caribbean and came back married. Her friends were surprised she got married so soon, but she seemed happy.

They were happy, at first. He helped her move her things into his much larger two bedroom apartment and they began keeping house. They spent all their off time together. In the afternoons and evenings, they shared the things that happened at work. Her friends figured she would start to hang out with them again after a few months, but she didn't. At first, she said she was busy at home, merging their two apartments into one. That was reasonable, but four months later, she was still making excuses. Callie frequently returned to work on Monday morning talking about a weekend trip away from the city. Her friends missed her, but many of them were also jealous.

When it came time for the Peabody Strauss Christmas party in 1996, Callie planned to go, right up to the afternoon of the party when Bart came home with airline tickets. They skipped the party and went to Saint Lucia for the weekend. They flew out on Friday evening after work and returned late Sunday night.

On Monday morning, Paula was waiting for her. As soon as Callie set her purse down beside her desk, Paula slid into the visitor chair in her cubicle. "Where were you Friday night?"

Callie decided to have some fun with her. "What are you talking about?"

"You know good and well what I'm talking about. You missed the Christmas party and you didn't answer any of my calls, all weekend."

"Bart and I were out of town. You didn't leave any messages on the machine."

Paula frowned, "So, where did you go this time?"

Callie smiled, then she closed her eyes and remembered the beach where they swam and sunned and various other activities. She whispered, "Saint Lucia, but please, don't tell anybody." Uncharacteristically, Paula had no immediate response. Callie opened her eyes.

Paula was staring at her with a frown on her face. "You went to Saint Lucia for the weekend?"

Callie pursed her lips together and slowly nodded her head.

Paula shook her head and a smile slowly spread across her lips. "Let me guess, you went to Saint Lucia and laid out on the beach all weekend. Meanwhile, I went to the company Christmas party with a lame date and spent the rest of the weekend worrying about you. I am so jealous, again."

"What can I say?"

"There is something I want to know, young lady."

"What is that?"

"Why did I talk you into taking my slot at that training class when you met Bart?"

Callie shrugged her shoulders and said, "I can't answer that for you."

Paula dropped her head. Callie took her hand and smiled. "The good news is that we have stocks to research today, so good old Peabody Strauss will continue to make deposits into our bank accounts."

"Okay, okay. I know you want to get right to work." Paula stood. "I'm out of here, but remember, I'm just over the partition. When you get ready for your break, let me know."

"I will." Callie turned to her desk and switched on her computer monitor. Paula left Callie's cubicle and three short steps later, turned in to her own.

On Tuesday after the Saint Lucia trip, Bart came home from work more excited than usual. "You won't believe what happened to me today." He took Callie by both hands and led her to the sofa to sit down.

"You have tickets for a trip to Hawaii?"

"No, but maybe better."

Callie smiled. "Tell me before you burst."

"I had lunch with Elliot Pratt from Fincher Fowler & Pratt."

"Oh, you did. I had lunch with Mary Ann from accounting."

"You don't understand. This could be big. He told me that my work has come to his firm's attention and he asked if I would be interested in thinking about making a move to their firm."

"Is that good?"

"Oh, yes. It is very good. Their firm is one of the most prestigious in the city. They have a lot of very wealthy, very important, very connected clients."

"Are you interested?"

"Absolutely. It would be a big step up for me. This is my opportunity to move up to the big time. Singleton, Rogers and Judd is a respected law firm, but Fincher Fowler & Pratt is Major League. Sweetheart, he already made me an offer."

"Really?"

"Yes. It is nearly twice what I'm making now."

"Wow."

"He said there would be some travel involved and some of their clients can only meet outside of regular business hours. That would take away some of our time together, but get this, he told me that if you are in town and have to schedule a meeting after six, they expect you to keep up with the hours and take off the same number of hours at a time of your choosing. He said most everyone uses the hours around weekends and holidays, but you don't have to. You can take it an hour at a time, if you want. He said I will have four weeks of vacation, starting my first year. After seven years it increases to six weeks and after fifteen years it goes to eight weeks every year. We won't have to be limited to weekend trips anymore. Callie, the potential earnings are unlimited. Now get this. Last year the firm billed almost twice as much as Singleton, Rogers and Judd. There are eight partners and I would be the twenty-second associate. Last year, over half the associates earned six figures. At Singleton, Rogers and Judd, there are also eight partners and fifty-five associates. There, you have to be a partner to pull down more than the low six figures."

"It sounds like you have already made up your mind."

"I wanted to talk to you, but I don't think it is an opportunity we can afford to pass up."

"When do they want you to start?"

"As soon as I can."

"What are you going to do?"

"I told him I would like to think about it and I would get back with him by close of business on Friday."

"So, which way are you leaning?"

"I like working at Singleton, Rogers and Judd, but I like the potential opportunities at Fincher Fowler & Pratt. Mrs. Kramer, would you give me your best analysis."

Callie thought about what he had told her and then boiled it down like she always did at work. "You have to take into consideration that this evaluation is based on VERY little information." She laughed. "I would normally want to study a proposal much more carefully before making an evaluation."

"Stop, hold it," Bart said, with a smile. He took her into his arms. "Please, just tell me what you think. I don't need five minutes of disclaimer. I know it is quick and you haven't researched it. I also know there is always the 'unknown' about any new job. I know what I think about it and I know how I feel. I just want to know how you feel, because it will affect us both."

She took a breath. "Okay. I'll start with the pros. Of course, the money, the vacation time, and the low associate to partner ratio. As for the cons, I'm hearing more travel and more later hours. In all honesty, you work late quite a bit now already."

He smiled, "Okay, if it was solely your decision, what would it be?"

She thought for a minute. "I would probably say yes, but with reservations. I always tend to question my decisions at first."

He said, "I agree. I think I'm going to do it. I'm going to wait until the fifteenth and give Singleton, Rogers and Judd two weeks notice. I'll tell Fincher Fowler & Pratt that I can start on the first business day of 1997."

He picked her up and spun her around. "Let's get dressed up and go out on the town to celebrate, but I don't think we should say anything to anyone about it until I give my notice."

His first month at Fincher Fowler & Pratt was a good one for Bart and Callie. He had three overnight trips and only four or five after hours meetings. For the first time, in a long time, Callie went out with the girls after work. When his first paycheck was deposited, they rationalized that the money more than made up for a few after hours meetings and three overnight trips.

In late February, Callie shared with her friends at work that she and Bart were going to have a baby. They were overjoyed for her. In their rush to get married, Callie and Bart never discussed whether or not they wanted to have children, and if they did, how many they wanted. When she shared their good news with Bart, he was not overjoyed. He was furious.

"Who is the father?" he demanded.

She was shocked at his reaction. "You are, of course."

"Oh, no! I always use a condom. Tell me the truth. Who are you sleeping with? I knew you couldn't wait for me to be on the road."

"That's crazy. I love you. Only you," she said as she began to cry. "Bart, it's our baby. Sometimes condoms fail."

He stormed out of the apartment and didn't return until several hours later. She cried herself to sleep in her misery. She didn't know if it was worse that he didn't trust her, or that he didn't want a baby. When she woke up the next morning, his arms were wrapped around her. When they got up, he tried to act like nothing was wrong, but a problem in their marriage that had been hiding had awakened and now come to the surface.

A few weeks later, Callie miscarried the baby. She was devastated to lose the baby, but even worse, was the idea that Bart might never want to have another baby. She might have just lost her only opportunity to be a mother. Another thing that gnawed at her was that after she lost the baby, he seemed to return, somewhat, to his old self. During her recovery, she tried on several occasions to approach him with the subject of children. Initially he refused to discuss the matter at all, but eventually realized it was in his best interest to agree to have children, just not now.

The second month with the new firm, Bart averaged working sixty hours a week. In addition, he made six overnight trips. By the end of the third month, Callie began to wonder if his views on having children was contributing to the amount of time he was spending at work. That month, she also began to wonder, for the first time, if his attitude about having children, combined with the demands of his new job would destroy their marriage. When her doctor told her it was safe for her to try to get pregnant again, she asked for a prescription for birth control pills instead.

Into the fourth month of Bart's new job, Callie began to think that it was quite possible that they would never be with each other enough to get pregnant if they decided to have children. She also began to worry that if they had children, they would never see their father and she would practically have to raise them alone. She didn't want that either. Maybe in time, he would change his mind about children and he wouldn't have to put in so many hours at work.

In June 1997, their first anniversary rolled around. Callie was a little surprised that Bart was going to be in town. They went out to dinner and a movie. When they got home, he sat down at the kitchen table and began looking at legal documents. She went to bed. When she awoke the next morning, he was already gone. "Well, so much for being newlyweds," she said to their empty apartment.

After the disappointment on their anniversary, she decided not to mention children for a while. One good thing was that with him working so much, she had more time to spend with her friends. It didn't seem to bother him at all. In fact, he decided spending time with her friends helped keep her mind off kids. She made no effort to hide her activities from him, but she was actually surprised when he occasionally commented, which meant he noticed. Most days after work, she rode the subway home, fixed dinner for herself, did some housework and either watched TV or read until bedtime. Most nights, he made it home before she went to bed, but he was usually so tired that he just wanted to unwind, as he called it. For Bart, unwinding required a supply of his favorite beer, a recliner and a TV to make noise if he wanted to sleep, which was most nights after a couple beers. Most mornings he woke up in bed with Callie, but he frequently spent the night in his recliner.

They hardly ever talked about anything any more. She grew tired of asking about his day and he quit asking about hers. By Christmas, the obligatory appearances at both their company parties were their only holiday activities. The night of the Peabody Strauss party, he spent an hour when they got home, grilling her about every man that had spoken to her in the short time they were at the party. When they returned from his office party a few days later, it was just as bad, if not worse. All the time they were at the party, he seemed determined to prevent her from talking to any of the wives as well as their husbands.

By the time their second anniversary rolled around, she was almost glad there was no baby in their lives. In the eyes of the law, she and Bart were married. They shared an apartment, but they weren't really together. She casually mentioned the name of a male co-worker who joined the group one afternoon after work for drinks and Bart became very upset. She just laughed. "You don't want me, but you are so afraid someone else might." She walked to their bedroom, slammed the door and locked it.

A few days later, he called to tell her that he would be home later even than usual. She wasn't home. She had gone to the grocery store. When he got home, he accused her of having an affair with Jim, the co-worker she mentioned a few days before. The next evening, he brought a cell phone home to her. He instructed her to always carry it so he could find her if he needed her.

Over the coming weeks, Callie noticed more changes in Bart. He began to make decisions for them without involving her. When the lease on the apartment expired in September, he decided they needed to move to a nicer neighborhood. She got home one day to find Bart with a man from a moving and storage company, taking notes about moving their furniture. She didn't want it to appear to the mover that she wasn't aware of what was going on, so she kept quiet until he left.

When the man left, she asked, "What's going on?"

"We're moving."

"What?"

"You heard me. We're moving. The lease is expiring and it is time that we moved to a nicer place."

"When were you going to tell me about it?"

"I'm telling you now."

"So, you just decided that we should move. Didn't you think, even for a second, that I should have had some input into this decision?"

"Actually, no."

"Bart, you have changed. You aren't the sweet, thoughtful man I married."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't know if it is the job, or the hours, or what, but you have changed. I don't know if I even want to be married to you anymore. We're never together anymore anyway."

"Listen, we are not even going to talk about getting a divorce. At least not until I make partner. No one has ever made partner at Fincher Fowler & Pratt if they weren't married."

"What about children?" She was furious. "Are there any requirements to have a certain number of offspring to make partner at good old Fincher Fowler & Pratt?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I am very serious. It seems that they are calling all the shots in our lives now, instead of us. We are just puppets and they are pulling the strings. You are hardly ever at home any more, and when you are here, we just argue."

"You're being unreasonable." He paused for a second like he knew he wanted to say something else, but didn't. He continued, "The movers will be here Tuesday. I gave them keys to this place and the new one. You can be here or not while they're packing. It is entirely your choice." He handed her a piece of paper and a key. "That is the address and the key to our new place, as of next Wednesday. You can go look at it before then, if you want."

Callie took the paper and key with a look of stunned disbelief. He looked at his watch. "I'm late now. I've got a meeting this evening. I don't know how late I'll be." He turned and walked out the door.

As soon as Bart left, Callie decided she should go look at the new apartment. When she started thinking about moving, she realized there would never be a better time to leave him than when everything was packed into boxes for the move. She could make sure she knew which boxes held her things and load them into a car and go. When she quit daydreaming and came back to reality, she decided she better go check out the new place, so she went downstairs and hailed a cab. For the most part, she was pleasantly surprised at the new address. The apartment was nice, it had three bedrooms instead of the two at their current address. The kitchen was more up to date, the view was better and there was an elevator.

On one hand, she couldn't understand why he hadn't involved her in selecting the new apartment, but on the other hand, it was so typical. The only thing that bothered her about the new apartment was that the neighbors were not friendly. She didn't see anyone in the building before she went into the apartment, but the two people she passed on her way out did not even return her greeting. Otherwise, it seemed like a good place. It was close to shopping and a subway stop.

She thought more about leaving, but when it came right down to it, she realized she didn't have the courage to leave Bart. The following Tuesday, she stayed home from work to supervise the movers. It wasn't really necessary. They asked very few questions as they systematically put everything into boxes and loaded the truck. When the truck arrived at the new apartment, she supervised as they brought in and set up the furniture. By the time Bart got home, she was sitting on the sofa in the living room, looking at a mountain of boxes, wondering how long it would take to get everything sorted out.

"It's great, isn't it?" he asked.

She found it hard to share his enthusiasm. She just saw a lot of work ahead of her. "It might be, if we ever get things unpacked and put away."

He sat down beside her and put his hand over hers. "Well, I have a surprise for you. I know you've taken off the rest of the week to get things squared away. I'm going to take off the rest of the week too. If we can get things put away quickly enough, maybe we can get away this weekend."

She looked up at him in surprise. "Not that I'm complaining, but who are you and where did you stash my husband?"

He gave her a pleading look. "Hey, give me a break. I know I've been away a lot lately, but there has been a lot going on."

She pulled her hand away and frowned. "That's an understatement. I never see you anymore."

"It should be better now for a while. It looks like things are going to slow down a little for me." He put his arm around her and gave her a hug, for the first time in a long time. She was stiff at first, but quickly warmed to his touch. She felt a slight glimmer of hope that things might get better between them.

Chapter 6

For a few months after they moved into the new apartment, Callie didn't bring up the subject of children. Bart noticed and hoped she had forgotten about it. No such luck. When she started bringing it up again, each time he had a new excuse for why it was not a good time to have a baby. She grew tired of his excuses, and soon the excuses led to arguments. Their marriage continued to deteriorate. All the while, although she didn't notice it at first, he became more and more demanding and controlling.

One Friday night, after an argument about children, Bart slapped her and pushed her down. He stormed out of the apartment and did not come back home that night. On Saturday morning, there was a hand print on her face and a bruise on her thigh. That afternoon, a friend called and invited her to a girl's night out. The bruise on her thigh was not a problem to hide, but it took several minutes to cover the hand print on her face. Julie mentioned that it looked like she was wearing more makeup than usual. She dismissed it by saying that she was trying a new look. She wasn't sure if her friends bought it. At least they didn't press her.

When he came home on Sunday night, Bart acted as though nothing was wrong. After that weekend, he became even more controlling, if that was possible. He demanded to know where she was at all times. He went so far as to forbid her to go out with her friends any more, but she didn't stop. She just hid it from him. He refused to talk about having children. He became extremely jealous at the mention of any male co-workers. He alienated them from their neighbors by being extremely rude.

By the time their fourth anniversary rolled around in June of 2000, Callie was afraid of Bart. Their marriage was a joke, but no one else knew. In public, the few times that ever happened, they were able to play the happy couple. She desperately wanted out of the marriage from hell, but felt like he would never let her go, at least not until he made partner. He had told her as much. She was embarrassed she had let it get this bad. Monica and Stephanie would never approve of the way she had allowed him to take over and dominate her life. As she sat alone watching TV on their anniversary, she made a decision. She was not going to let life just happen to her any more. She decided to take her life back. She began to lay the groundwork for her get away. She rented a mailbox at Self Service Storage, a few blocks from their apartment. She contacted the credit card company and reactivated her account that had been inactive for four years. She also decided to set up some more accounts and start working to establish her own credit history. At some point, she knew she would need it. She changed the address on her personal checking account to her rented mailbox and started using it too.

In March of 2001, she got an email from Monica. The Greeneville High School class of '86 was planning their fifteen year reunion. She asked Monica to pass along her new address to the organizing committee. In a few days she received an informational packet in the mail. She knew Bart would not want to go with her. Furthermore, he wouldn't let her go without him. His jealousy was a real problem on top of everything else. When she found out the dates for the reunion she began to try to figure out a way to attend. After thinking about it for a few days, she came up with a plan. She began to look for events that Bart would be interested in attending on the same weekend.

She found a Continuing Legal Education class for him on a Wednesday thru Friday in Denver on the same weekend as a four game series with the Rockies and Mets. It was too much for him to pass up. He even persuaded three of his lawyer buddies to go to the same CLE.

On the morning he left for Denver, Bart was as excited as a little boy on Christmas Eve. He set his alarm and got up early to pack the last few items for the trip. He went to work as usual, but left his office promptly at three to rush home, change clothes to get to the airport. The last thing he did before rushing downstairs for the taxi to the airport was to open his laptop bag to make sure he had his airline tickets. When he saw his backup diskettes, he muttered under his breath, and looked at his watch. There was no time. Periodically he made backup copies of his work files on his laptop computer. He kept six sets of the diskettes stored in their storage room in the basement. When he brought home a new set, he took the oldest set and reformatted them to use the next time. Today, he had stopped in the basement as was his custom when he had a new backup and made the swap, but he was in such a hurry, he forgot to reformat the diskettes on their home computer when he got upstairs. Now, he picked up the diskettes and looked around the room. This one time he would have to leave them to be reformatted when he got home. As he looked around the room again, he saw his suitcase and had an idea. He walked to Callie's closet, pulled down her suitcase, unzipped the side compartment and dropped in the two diskettes. He carefully replaced the suitcase on the shelf and closed the closet door. He picked up his suitcase and his laptop case and hurried downstairs to wait for his cab.

Since he was going to be unavailable for several hours, Callie was not expected to check in with him on Tuesday. When he got to Denver, it was late. He figured Callie would be asleep, but he called home anyway.

"Hello," she mumbled, when the phone woke her up in the middle of the night.

"I'm at the hotel. I'm in room 1214. I put the hotel's main number on the marker board in the kitchen."

"That's nice."

"You aren't really awake, are you?"

"I am now." Slowly, she sat up in bed and reached to switch on the lamp. She opened her eyes and waited for them to adjust to the light. Then she reached for the notepad and pen she kept on her night stand. "Okay, I'm awake now. What is the name of the hotel?"

"I'm at the Downtown Hilton in Denver. The number is 970-555-2800. I'm in room 1214."

She only wrote 1214. She had the rest of the information. "Okay, I've got it."

"Callie?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks. I would have never thought about combining a CLE class with a baseball trip. This is going to be so much fun. I wish you could have come too."

She thought, "No, you didn't, or you would have invited me." She actually said, "Maybe next time."

"Yeah, maybe next time. If I'm out when you call, just leave a message so I'll know you are okay."

"Will do. Have a nice night."

"Good night," he said and the line went dead.

Callie looked at the receiver and thought, "He didn't even wait for me to say bye," and then hung up the phone. After she switched off the light, she got sad when she tried to remember the last time either of them had said, "I love you."

Wednesday and Thursday afternoons, she called his hotel as soon as she got home from work. With the two hour time difference, he was still in class both days. She was happy to leave a message so she didn't have to talk to him.

Chapter 7

On Friday, Callie took a day of vacation to travel to her reunion. Bart almost never called her at the office any more, but if he had called that day, he might have been suspicious of her voice mail message. "This is Callie Kramer. I am going to be away from my desk most of the day today. Please leave your name and number and I'll call you back." She was understandably nervous. She was seldom away from her desk for any length of time any more, and never for most of the day. Bart knew that. She worried that if he called and left a message, she might not return the call as quickly as he expected. If that happened, he might call one of her co-workers, or her boss. They all knew she took the day off, but she hadn't told anyone what she was doing. She also worried that her boss or one of her co-workers would hear her message and become suspicious. Beginning at 9:30, she called to check for work voice mail messages at the bottom of every hour until she left for the airport at noon. At the airport, she called her office voice mail one more time before she took off at 1:25. Her first order of business when she landed in Knoxville at 3:30 was to check her voice mail and change the greeting. There were no messages. She called home and hung up after the third ring. If there had been messages, the machine would have picked up after the second ring. She rented a car with her own credit card and felt more alive than she had in months.

As she drove east on I 40 toward Greeneville, she began to remember her life when eastern Tennessee was all she knew. There had been times when she longed for the quiet she thought she vaguely remembered. Once she reached Greeneville, she checked in to what she remembered as the only nice hotel in town. She unpacked her suitcase and changed clothes. She hadn't been back to Greeneville since March of 1988, so she decided to make a pass through town to see if the old town had changed, before heading to the reunion.

As she drove slowly through downtown, she saw that it was all pretty much the same. At the turn off for the Greeneville Country Club, she realized she had never been there before. Foster kids didn't play much golf or swim in country club pools when she was a kid. They probably still didn't. There were several cars in the parking lot, but it was far from full. She parked her rental car, but hesitated before going inside. She could see that several of her classmates and their spouses or dates were already inside. She wished now she had opted for the luxury model instead of the subcompact she was driving. The class of '86 was now fifteen years removed from GHS. It was quite possible that everyone had changed as much as she had. She hoped she would recognize her classmates without making a fool of herself, and at the same time, she hoped she didn't look anything like the poor orphan she was in high school. She thought it would be very satisfying to be the, "Who is she?" girl at the reunion. She looked into the mirror to check her makeup, took a few deep breaths and stepped out of the car.

Fifteen years before, when Callie left Greeneville to attend Memphis State, her entire wardrobe had consisted of four pairs of blue jeans, a selection of tee shirts, two skirts and three blouses she could wear with the skirts, interchangeably. She always wore either a pair of athletic shoes or what Mrs. Carter would call, a nice pair of sensible black flats. Her wardrobe had come a long way since she was last here. When she thought about it, the outfit she was wearing probably cost more than her whole wardrobe back then.

Callie had given a lot of thought to what she was going to wear to the different functions over the course of the weekend as she packed. Friday was billed as a casual get together, dinner and dancing with a DJ. Saturday morning, a tour of the high school campus was scheduled. At noon a family picnic was planned at the city park and a formal dance was planned for Saturday night from 8 to midnight.

As she walked up the sidewalk toward the club house, she smiled. She was the picture of a confident, smart, beautiful woman in a killer red dress with matching shoes and purse. She had decided to dress for maximum impact and it was working. Conversation among the smokers congregated just outside the double glass doors stopped as she approached the building. Two of the men rushed to open the door. Fortunately, she remembered both their names. "Thanks Carl. Thanks Jason," she said as she swept through the door.

After the doors closed behind her, the smokers looked at each other in confusion. Carl said, "I don't have any idea who that was."

"I don't think she was in our class. I'm sure I wouldn't have forgotten her."

"So who is she?" one of the others asked.

Still another one said, "I don't know, but as soon as she leaves the registration table, I plan to find out."

When she reached the registration table, it was probably more organized than necessary. Shelly, Jane, Elaine and Beth sat at the table behind signs for A-G, H-M, N-T, and U-Z. Two splits would probably been enough, but all the planning committee members wanted to be seen. The four women had seen her when she swept through the door and immediately began to try to place her. They were still talking among themselves when Callie stepped up to Elaine's part of the table.

"Hi, Elaine," she said, and waited for recognition.

"Hi, Welcome to the Class of '86 Reunion."

Callie smiled and then laughed. "You don't recognize me, do you?"

"I'm sorry."

"I was Callie Simon, now I'm Callie Kramer."

"Oh, Callie, it's so nice to see you." Elaine found Callie's name tag and handed it to her. "We are asking everyone to wear their name tags, so we don't embarrass ourselves."

Callie smiled and took the name tag. "Oh, no," she said, when she looked at the tag. "I have worked so hard to forget about that awful picture."

Everyone's name tag had a their senior picture beside their name.

Elaine smiled. "I must say, you are gorgeous."

"Thank you." Callie was jumping up and down on the inside and trying her best to remain the picture of calm on the outside.

Jane spoke for the first time. "Tonight is our casual function."

Callie flashed her a big smile. "This is my casual."

She looked around the room and then back to the table. "How many are we expecting tonight?"

Shelly smiled. "We have paid registrations for about 125. There are about 77 graduates and 50 spouses. A few of us married each other."

"Is Steve Burbank registered?" she asked, trying to appear indifferent.

Callie's friend Beth said, "No, he couldn't make it. He did send us something for the memory book. He and his wife and three boys live in Phoenix, Arizona."

A little of her enthusiasm for the evening evaporated when she heard that.

Seventy-seven of the two hundred and fifty-six graduates were preregistered for the weekend. She looked around the room. There were only about ten of her classmates on her mental list of those she really wanted to see. It wasn't that she didn't want to see the others, but back in the day, there were only about thirty or forty of her classmates that she interacted with on a regular basis. Of those, only about ten, she thought of as good to marginal friends.

It quickly became clear that very few of the people Callie actually wanted to see, chose to attend the reunion. She had received an email from Monica on Wednesday that said she wasn't going to be able to make it. There was a problem with a convention scheduled to begin on Saturday. Monica had told her that Stephanie might come if she called her. When Callie called, Stephanie told her, in no uncertain terms that she was not going to the reunion. She just didn't want to go. Monica said it was because Stephanie's old boyfriend was already preregistered. Shelly and Elaine were on her short list of people she wanted to see, but they were so involved with getting everyone registered that she didn't get a chance to talk to them until later.

She found her friend Darla looking at the silent auction items and was talking to her when she saw a man that she didn't recognize, walk into the room.

"Who is that?"

Darla turned around and looked at the hunk that entered the room. "I can't believe you don't recognize him."

"Come on, who is he? He looks a little familiar."

"He should. He was your chemistry lab partner."

"There is no way Micah Marsh turned into him."

Darla grinned. "I'm afraid so, and he has been asking about you ever since we started putting the reunion together."

"You're kidding."

"No. At first, when he found out I was on the committee, he started calling me every week, bugging me for a list of people who had confirmed. It took a while, but I finally got him to tell me who he was looking for. When I promised I wouldn't tell anyone, he told me that it was you. You can't begin to imagine how disappointed he sounded when he found out you are married."

Callie smiled and watched him walk toward her. "Hi, Callie. Long time, no see." He walked right up to her and gave her a big smile.

"Hi, Micah."

Darla said, "Well, I'll leave you kids to get reacquainted. I'll catch you later." She winked at Callie and walked away.

Micah watched her walk away. "Callie, you look fabulous."

"Thank you."

"Would you like something to drink? Punch, beer, iced tea?"

"I would take some punch."

"I'll be right back."

Avi walked up to Callie as Micah was walking away. "Hey girl, I haven't seen you in forever."

They hugged. "I know. After we graduated, I haven't been back much. You know my foster family, the Carters, moved away from here the second year I was in college."

"I heard that. Well, you could come back to see the rest of us."

"I know, but you know how it is. You get busy."

"I know that. Where do you live now?"

"New York City."

"Wow. I don't guess you can very well drive down for the weekend can you?"

"No, not really." She smiled and shook her head. "It would be a little far for a weekend visit."

"Listen, Callie, I've got to run now, the caterer is supposed to be ready any minute and I'm in charge of dinner tonight."

Avi walked away and Micah returned seconds later with her punch in a Styrofoam cup. "Here you go. One cup of punch."

"It's not spiked is it?"

He smiled a dazzling smile. "I don't think so. I know I didn't spike it."

Across the room, Avi found a microphone. When she picked it up, it squealed. Some frowned and others just looked for the source of the noise. "Um, can I have your attention please?" She waited for the conversation to die down. "Sorry about the squeal," she said. "Welcome to the 15 year reunion of the Greenville High School Class of 1986. It's time for us to have dinner. If you will all find a place to sit at the banquet tables, the caterers will begin serving."

Micah turned to Callie. "Shall we?"

Callie looked at her hand and noticed that she had forgotten to put on her wedding rings. "Sure, lead the way."

Micah chose a spot at the end of a long row of banquet tables. "Is this okay?"

"I suppose. It is kind of away from everyone, isn't it?"

"It is, but I was hoping we would get a chance to talk."

"You know, I'm married?"

"Yes, but I also see that you aren't with your husband or wearing a ring."

"Micah, I just forgot to put my rings back on. I know what you must be thinking, but, ..."

"I'm thinking I haven't seen you since high school and I would like to talk with you tonight. Talk. That's it."

"Okay. I don't guess there is any harm in talking."

"Good."

"Fine."

They settled into the last two seats and waited for the table to fill up around them and the food to be served. The food was served quickly, but the seats around them never filled. As a result, there was no one to talk to but each other.

After a few minutes, he smiled and said, "It looks like some things never change."

"What do you mean?"

"I hate to bring it up, but you do remember the way we ended up as chemistry lab partners in eleventh grade, don't you?"

"Oh, yeah."

"We were the last two left without partners."

"It worked out pretty well for me."

"I think it worked out really well, too. We became friends and we probably wouldn't have if we hadn't been lab partners."

"We were good friends, weren't we?"

"Yes, for a while."

"I still think of you as a good friend."

"I'm not surprised."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm not surprised you thought we were good friends. You never suspected I had a crush on you, the whole time."

"You didn't."

"Yes, I did, but that was a long time ago."

"Let's talk about something else."

Micah nodded his agreement.

Callie continued, "I don't have a whole lot of fond memories from high school. It always seemed like I was on the outside. I never felt like I was a part of anything. It always seemed like something was missing in my life."

"Well, at least you made it into the in group."

"Just barely. Only after I started dating Steve."

"Oh, yes, Steve Burbank. I could never forget him. I had almost made up my mind to ask you out when Steve Burbank moved to town and swept you and your curly red locks, off your feet."

She laughed again. "I have tried so hard to forget about my red, curly hair phase. Between you and me, I hated that permanent."

"Well, I have pictures. I thought you were pretty cute as a redhead, and apparently Steve did too. You know his wife has curly red hair?"

"No, I didn't know."

"Yes. Tell me, what happened with you two?"

"He went to one college, I went to another and I quit perming and coloring my hair. The permanent grew out along with my brown roots." She laughed. "By the end of the first semester we had both moved on. Honestly, I was kind of hoping he would be here this weekend."

Micah smiled, "So he could see what he missed out on?"

"Something like that."

"I saw him last fall at the homecoming football game. He's put on about fifty pounds since high school and it's all around his middle."

"Really."

"Yep, Mr. Burbank has developed a spare tire."

His words just seemed to hang in the air over the table for a few seconds.

Callie wasn't sure how to respond to that. "Micah, tell me, what happened to you. You didn't look like this in high school."

"Well, it's taken quite a while, but I've made quite a few changes over the past several years. For one thing, when I went to college, I quit getting my haircuts in my mom's kitchen. I got contacts and I went to a Dermatologist and got some medicine for my face. I quit eating my mom's cooking and started exercising. Then, a couple years ago, I hired someone that taught me how to buy my clothes."

She gave him an admiring look and said, "All I can say is wow!"

She wasn't sure, but she thought he blushed. "You don't exactly look like you did in high school either."

"No, the Carters didn't spend as much on my clothes, shoes, makeup, hair and nails as I do now. Do you remember Monica and Stephanie?"

"Sure. What about them?"

"When I got out of college, I moved to Nashville for my first job. I accidentally ran into Monica and ended up living with her and Stephanie for a year before I moved to New York. They are the ones that taught me how to dress and do my makeup."

"I have to say, you look fabulous."

"Thank you. You are so sweet. I wish I felt fabulous."

"Well, you certainly look the part."

"Thank you, again. Okay, we have established that I'm married. What about you? Is there a Mrs. Marsh somewhere out there?"

"There was, at one time, for a little while, but not anymore."

"Oh. I'm sorry. Is that a touchy subject?"

"It was for a while, but I've pretty much moved on now."

Callie got serious. "A few minutes ago, you said you were about to ask me out when Steve moved to town. Why didn't you?"

"Are you kidding?"

"No. Steve and I didn't really date exclusively until Christmas of our senior year."

"I never knew that. Every time I saw you two together, you looked pretty chummy. When you and I were together, he was all you wanted to talk about." He paused and looked down at his plate for a while. He raised his head, "Would you have gone out with me if I had asked?"

She thought about it for a few seconds before answering. "I honestly don't know. As I remember, we were pretty good friends, but I never had any idea you were interested in me for more than my superior Chemistry knowledge."

"Yeah, right," he laughed and smiled.

The tense moment had passed. She smiled, too. "Who knows, if you had asked me out, we might be sitting here tonight worrying about the kids at home with a babysitter."

Micah didn't say anything for several seconds. She sensed something was wrong. "I'm sorry, Micah. Did I say something wrong?"

"No. It's just that Connie didn't want to have any children. I did. That's why we broke up."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"It's okay. You couldn't have known."

"I don't know that it will make you feel any better, but I know exactly how you feel. Bart doesn't want any kids either."

"How do you feel about that?"

"I'm coping. I hope he'll change his mind some day."

"Why didn't he come with you?"

She took a quick, short breath, pursed her lips together and contemplated lying or telling the truth. "He is in Denver for the weekend. He doesn't know I'm here. When I found out about the reunion, I told him about a Continuing Legal Education class the three days before a four game series between the Mets and the Rockies." She quickly thought, "Why did I tell him that?"

"Oh." Micah watched Callie's face as she turned and gazed across the room without really seeing anything. She turned back to Micah and her eyes focused on his. It was like a switch was thrown somewhere in her mind.

"So, Micah, what kind of work do you do?"

Her question caught him off guard, but he hesitated only a second. "I am a Industrial Water Quality Engineer."

She smiled, "Okay, what does an Industrial Water Quality Engineer do?"

"This particular one consults with companies whose manufacturing plants utilize water in their manufacturing process."

"So, do you have an office in a big office building somewhere?"

"No, actually, my office is an RV that I drive around the country. I stay in a town close to the plant where they have problems until the problem is solved and then I drive to the next job."

"So, you're on the road a lot."

"Yes, I have a condo in Florida, but most of the time, I'm on the road."

"Wow."

"It's not that glamorous. I spend most of my days around loud factories."

"I'll bet you see some pretty scenery between jobs."

"I suppose, but I'm usually in too big a hurry to enjoy it."

"Too bad."

"What do you do?"

"I research companies and stock issues."

"I'm impressed."

"Don't be. I work in a cubicle beside forty other analysts on the seventy-third floor of a high rise office building in Manhattan."

"I had heard you lived in New York, but I had no idea what you did for a living."

"I work for Peabody Strauss. Like I said, I research companies, all day, every day. I make recommendations to my boss and he makes recommendations to his boss and then his boss acts on them and he then looks brilliant. The bosses also tend to make a boat load of money while they're at it."

"Is living in New York City as glamorous as it looks on TV?"

"Heaven's no. Not for me, anyway. I've been to maybe a half dozen Broadway Shows. I've only been to Central Park a hand full of times. I've never been to Times Square on New Years Eve. Bart goes to an occasional Mets game, but I don't. I ride the subway in to work every morning. I go up to my cubicle, do my job and then ride the subway home. I walk from the subway stop to my apartment, take the elevator or, if I'm in the mood to exercise, walk up four flights of stairs to our three bedroom apartment and fix dinner.

You know, it is never quiet in New York City. There is always something making noise. I've got four locks on my door. My life is anything but glamorous."

On the other side of the room, a DJ started playing music and it became impossible to carry on a conversation.

"Would you like to dance?" Micah asked.

"Not really. Actually, I would like to get out of here."

"Okay," he said, "let's step outside."

They walked outside and found a garden bench. After a few minutes of conversation, Micah mentioned the hotel where he was staying.

"I figured you would be staying with your parents," she said.

"No, they moved to Arizona about five years ago. Mom's doctor said she needed to live in a drier climate. Where are you staying?"

"The same place as you."

"Interesting."

"Not really. It is the only really decent place to stay in town."

He laughed. "It shows what you and I know. I found out there is a new hotel on the other end of town now. Just about everyone else at the reunion from out of town is staying there."

"Oh, well. That is just about par for the course. You and I are one place and everybody else is staying somewhere else."

"I don't know about you, but it has been a long day for me and this bench is getting harder by the minute."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying this. I'm not interested in dancing tonight. I am having a great time talking to you. Since we're staying at the same hotel, why don't we see if we can find a couple comfortable chairs there and continue this conversation?"

"Micah, you know that if we both leave now, we will be the topic of gossip, all weekend."

"If anyone notices."

"Someone will notice."

"Okay, how about this? Let's go back inside and mingle for a while. You leave in about fifteen minutes and I'll leave in thirty."

Micah reached into his pocket and pulled out one of his business cards. He turned it over and wrote a number on the back. "Here, take this. My cell number is on the front. My room number is on the back."

Callie reached into her purse and found one of her own cards. She wrote her cell number and room number on it and handed it to him.

He looked at it and said, "I'll call you when I get to the hotel."

They walked back into the clubhouse together. She stopped off at the ladies room and he made his way back to the ballroom. In the ballroom, there was less dancing and more visiting than he expected. He looked around the room and saw little pockets of two and three and four people trying to talk above the din of the music of their youth. He sought out some of his closest high school friends. They were cordial, and they talked for a while, but their lives had moved on since high school and they no longer had the connection they once had. He ran into some friends who still lived in Greeneville and realized he had changed more than he thought. He was satisfied with his life and couldn't imagine what it would be like if he had stayed here.

Callie found Elaine and Beth with a group of classmates talking about what their kids were doing. It was most of the same popular group from back in the day and she still felt like an outsider. The problem was that she had not belonged to the group long enough in high school to have made lasting connections with any of the girls. She and Monica and Stephanie had become closer while she lived in Nashville than they ever were in high school, but now she had been gone from Nashville for eight years and they had drifted apart too. She realized she didn't know anyone in Greeneville. It was a little disappointing. Everyone was friendly, but with most of them, she felt like she was with a group of strangers that one time lived at the same place. More than a little disappointed, she slipped out the door and left.

Micah didn't see her leave, but he left after thirty minutes. It didn't matter. No one paid any attention when either of them left. It was just like when they were in high school.

Chapter 8

When she got back to the hotel, she changed into a pair of shorts and a tee shirt. She began to think about some of the things Micah had said to her. For some reason, she was surprised when the phone beside her bed rang a few minutes later.

"Hello?" she said.

"Hi, Callie. It's Micah. Do you still want to talk?"

"I don't know." She wanted someone to could confide in, but she was unsure if Micah Marsh was the right person. Sure, they had been friends in high school, but there was something different about Micah now. She had the feeling he wanted more from her than she was in a position to give. As bad as her marriage was, she was an intensely loyal person and she had made a commitment to Bart, and Callie Simon was a woman that kept her commitments.

"We can talk in your room, in mine or we can find a quiet corner of the lobby." He waited anxiously for her answer.

She closed her eyes and weighed the pros and cons of the situation.

"Are you still there?" he asked after several uncomfortable seconds of waiting.

She opened her eyes. "I'm here." After another short pause, she said, "The lobby would be okay. I'll meet you there in five minutes."

When she walked into the lobby, Micah was waiting for her. He had picked out two chairs, away from the front desk, in a cozy corner, away from a television that was droning on with an infomercial. They talked for several minutes about inconsequential things before Micah's curiosity got the best of him.

"Did you say your husband's name is Bart?"

"Yes. Actually it is C. Bartlett Kramer."

"It sounds like old money."

"That's what he would like for people to think, but that's not the case. His parents own a struggling dry cleaning store in a strip shopping center in New Jersey."

"What does the C stand for?"

Callie laughed. "It stands for Coffey. It's a family name. I think it is his grandfather's mother's last name. I can't help but believe his parents have a strange sense of humor. At least they did when they named him. At some point, he decided C. Bartlett Kramer had a more dignified ring to it than Coffey Kramer."

Micah smiled and laughed out loud, "I can see his point. What kind of work does he do?"

"When we met, he was a general practice attorney, but he went to work for a different firm about three years ago and now I'm not really sure what he does."

"Oh. How long have you guys been married?"

"It will be five years, later this month."

"Then you guys are still almost newlyweds."

"Not hardly. He is almost never ever at home and when he is, we fight all the time."

"You don't have any kids?"

"No."

"So, if you aren't happy, why do you stay with him?" As soon as he asked the question, he wished he hadn't, but she seemed to ignore its inappropriateness.

She looked intently at him for several seconds. He was about to apologize for the question when she began to answer it. "He is all about his image and he is trying to make partner at his law firm. He says he won't give me a divorce until he makes partner."

"So, you've talked about it?"

"A few times actually."

"How much longer will it take for him to make partner?"

"It could be a while. The last new partner had been with the firm for twelve years before he made partner. Bart has been with them for almost four."

"Ouch. You said he doesn't want kids. How does he treat you otherwise?"

"As long as I don't mention kids, things are tolerable. He works a lot of hours and we really don't see each other that much. He likes to know where I am all the time, but that's not so bad. He does his stuff and I do mine."

"Is that what you want?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you are, what, thirty-two now?"

"I just turned thirty-three."

"Okay, in another eight years, you will be forty-one. If you stick around that long, or maybe longer before he makes partner and you actually manage to get away from him, having a baby might not even be possible. There is no guarantee you will find someone to have a baby with you when you're ready."

"Don't remind me."

"I can't believe you are considering staying with the clown."

Callie became a little indignant. "Hey, you don't even know him. He is a nice guy."

Micah came right back at her. "A nice guy that doesn't want to have kids with you, but has no qualms about exploiting you to help him make partner at a law firm."

"You make him sound pretty bad."

"It sounds to me like he is. Can you honestly say you are happy with him?"

She started to say something, but then she didn't. She thought for a few more seconds before she frowned and sighed. "Not really."

"Again, I ask, why don't you divorce him?"

"He won't give me a divorce. If I left, he would probably just hunt me down and make me go back home."

"You think he might get violent?"

"I'm not sure. I saw him punch out a guy at a club one night that said something to me that he didn't like."

"Has he ever hit you?"

"Once he slapped me, but he apologized later and promised never to do it again."

"And you believed him?"

"Yes. It has been almost two years and things are fine now."

"Callie, they aren't fine. You had to use trickery to get your husband to go out of town so you could go to your high school reunion without him knowing. What has you so scared?"

"Nothing."

"Then why didn't you bring him to the reunion, or at least tell him you were coming?"

"If I told him, I was afraid he wouldn't let me come."

"Why wouldn't he let you come?"

"He doesn't like for me to talk to other men."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I don't know."

"I can tell you why. He doesn't want you to talk to other men because he doesn't want you to figure out that he is not good for you."

"Look Micah, I've thought about it, a lot. He has said he won't give me a divorce, now. The only thing I could do is leave him, but I would always be looking back over my shoulder. There are not that many places I could get a job in my field and if I did, I'm afraid he could track me down through professional registrations and such."

"You're probably right. If you worked in your field, he might be able to find you. How do you expect he won't find out about your trip down here?"

"I've started laying the ground work for a few months to get out, if I ever decide to. I've been putting a few hundred dollars a month into a bank account that he doesn't know about. I've got my own credit card and I have a rental mailbox a few blocks from our apartment. I'm using some of that money for this weekend."

"Callie, I hate to see you waste away, wanting to get away from him, if that's what you want to do."

They talked for over an hour, but she started to get agitated when Micah suggested, more than one time, that she leave Bart. She eventually quit listening to anything he had to say about the situation and left him sitting in the lobby. They both attended the reunion activities the next morning, but didn't spend any time together. She visited with the friends she didn't see on Friday night. He spent time with some of his friends who had not been able to attend on Friday night. She saw him at lunch, but when the group picture was taken, she noticed he was absent.

She watched for him after lunch, but never saw him. She felt bad that she was the reason he was gone. When she returned to the hotel, she had a message on her room phone. "I'm sorry about last night. I would really like to talk again, if you want to. Give me a call on my room phone, please."

She smiled. Behind all that smooth debonair exterior was her sweet, kind, nerdy friend from high school. She dialed his room, but he didn't answer so she left a message. "Hi, Micah. Sure, I would like to get together. I'll be here for an hour or so, but after that, I'm going to drive around and see what else has changed in town since I've been gone."

There was a knock at her door ten minutes later. She looked through the peep hole, saw it was Micah and opened it wide. "Come on in. What is with the sunglasses and hat?"

"I don't think I should come in."

"Okay, what do you want to do?"

"Do you remember the where the Piggly Wiggly is?"

"Yes."

"Stay here for fifteen minutes then drive to the Piggly Wiggly. Park out by the street and I'll pick you up."

"What's going on?"

"I'll explain everything when you get there."

She was quite confused by his attire and his actions, but then she remembered that in high school he sometimes had a flair for the dramatic. In those days, he always had a method to his madness. He also read a lot of detective stories and spy novels. That probably explained his cryptic conversation at her door. She closed the door and waited fifteen minutes. She walked downstairs, through the lobby and out to the parking lot. She got into her car and drove to the Piggly Wiggly, using an indirect route. She figured she might as well get into this cloak and dagger stuff too. She parked by the street, but away from the entrance. In a few minutes, a car rolled up behind hers. She got out of her car, locked it and walked to his. She got in and closed the door.

"Is this a rental car?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Mine is too. I noticed they are the same model."

He looked at hers and smiled. "So they are."

"So, Mr. Secret Agent, what's up with all the sneaking around?"

"I will explain everything. Let's get out of here first." Micah pulled out of the parking lot and turned to drive out of town.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Not far, just to the lake. We can talk there."

"Oh, okay."

Micah drove out of town in silence. When they got to the lake, he parked at a picnic area and led her to a table in the shade, overlooking the water. When they sat down at the table, Callie looked at her friend and said, "Okay, what's on your mind?"

"I've been thinking about our conversation last night. You said that you have been laying the ground work to leave your husband."

Callie was surprised. "Yes, I did say that, but I don't know if I will ever actually have the nerve to do it."

Micah hesitated longer to reply than was comfortable, took a deep breath, looked earnestly into her eyes and said, "I would help you."

She was shocked and her body language showed it. "You would help me do what?"

Very seriously he continued, "I would help you leave your husband."

She found herself holding his hand. "Why would you do that?"

He looked down at his hand and smiled. "I'm your friend. Remember?"

She pulled her hand away from his. "I couldn't let you do that."

He suddenly looked hurt. "Why not?"

She thought for a few seconds about how she should respond. "Bart is so possessive. It scares me to think of what he might do to you."

"What can he do?"

"Plenty. I didn't tell you everything last night. A few months ago, Bart and I were at this club, not far from our apartment. Bart went to the restroom and while he was gone, a guy from my office walked up to me and started talking. We have worked on a few projects together and he is a nice guy. We were just talking. When Bart came back, I could see that he was unhappy, because this vein on his neck stands out when he is about to get mad. He tried to pretend like it didn't bother him, but Steve and I could both sense his anger. Steve went back to his table. A little later, I went to the the ladies room and when I returned, Bart was on the phone. He still had that mad look in his eye. When I asked who he was talking to, he said it was someone from work.

Steve was not at work the next day. About a week later, I saw him and he looked awful. He told me that he got mugged on his way home from the club on the night he talked to me. He was about a block from the night club when this big guy jumped out of the shadows and beat him up and took his wallet. I didn't press him for more information, but I'm almost positive Bart had something to do with it. I wouldn't want to do anything that would put you in danger."

Micah took her hand again. "Look, so far he has nothing to connect us together. I've never called you on your cell phone and you haven't called me on mine. That's why I was so specific about calling on the room phones at the hotel just now."

She smiled for the first time since they left her car. "Micah, you sound like you are channeling someone from one of those spy and detective novels you used to read."

He matched her smile. "Don't make fun of me. Several of the books I have read are based on actual events."

"Okay, okay. I won't make fun of you. You just don't understand my situation and my life." She dropped his hand again.

"You're right, but here is the thing. You told me your husband won't give you a divorce. If you want one, he can't legally stop you."

She looked away and then back at him. "Micah, that is the thing. He might not be able to stop me legally, but I don't think he will ever let me get away."

He became very serious. "Callie, you just need to get into a financial position where he doesn't hold all the cards. You probably make good money at your job."

"I do."

"It's really none of my business, but how do you handle your money?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you have separate bank accounts or do you put everything together?"

"We put it all together."

"Does he have his own accounts?"

"I don't think so, but I don't know."

"Does he ever just suddenly have something you've never seen before and you never see a bill or it doesn't show up on the credit card billing statements."

"I don't know. He handles all that."

"If you're ever going to leave him, you will need some cash to tide you over until you can get established somewhere else. From what you've told me, I think you would need to continue to live like nothing has changed between you until you are ready to make your move. Then you need to strike quickly, before he can react."

"I would never know how to do all that. Let's face it, I'm just stuck. Maybe he will decide he wants children before it's too late."

"You would actually want to have children with him, after the way he has treated you?"

She didn't say anything. She just frowned.

"You don't have to be stuck. I'm telling you, I can help you get away from him."

She closed her eyes and rubbed them. After a long pause, she said, "Okay, let's talk hypothetically. If a woman was interested in leaving her husband, in your opinion, what would she need to do?"

"As I said, I believe it would be much easier if the woman had someone that was willing to help her. Assuming that, you would need a way to communicate with the person helping you that would be impossible to trace. These two people would need to individually purchase prepaid cellular phones, using cash, reload them only with cash, and only use them to communicate with the other prepaid phone. They would need to establish email accounts to use exclusively for communicating with each other. They would only access the accounts using web interfaces and they would never ever save any messages to their computers. Face it, we both know we are talking about you. You said you have a private mailbox at a storage rental place. Rent a small storage unit too. Keep your prepaid phone at your storage unit unless you need to use it."

Callie looked at him with quiet fascination, not quite knowing how to react.

He continued. "Do you have access to all your joint bank accounts?"

"Yes."

"Do you know how much money is in the accounts?"

"I have a general idea, but I can check at any time."

"You said he travels a lot."

"Almost every week, why?"

"When he is out of town, you will be able to do things to get ready that you can't do when he's home. Does he know where you went to high school?"

"He knows I went to Memphis State, I mean, the University of Memphis. He knows I don't have any family. I'm not sure I ever mentioned high school."

"Even if he doesn't know, he would more than likely be able to eventually find out, but there is no need to make it easy for him. If you have a keepsake box, leave it where it has always been, but the next time he is out of town, you should empty it of anything that would connect you to me or any of our high school friends, or Greeneville. If you have any pictures with me in them, get rid of them or move them to the storage unit. In fact, move any pictures to the storage unit. Be careful to only move a few things at a time to storage. You don't want anyone to think you are moving out of your apartment. It would probably be a good idea to buy a backpack. It needs to be fairly large, not a kids book bag. Pack it with enough clothes for three or four days, in case you need to leave in a hurry at some point."

Micah thought for a few moments. "You should probably find out if Bart is having you followed."

"How would I do that?"

"Go someplace that you know would get a reaction."

"I could go to a Yankees game with some of my friends."

"You're getting the idea. You could do that. Just do something that he couldn't let pass without a comment, but not something that would cause him to get upset with you. When and if you decide to make a move, send a text message that you are thinking about going on vacation. I will reply with the name of a location on the west coast. Send a return message with the date your vacation is to begin. Buy a bus ticket. After you are underway, call me on the prepaid phone and we will arrange a place to pick you up. Ideally, you will withdraw as much as you want from your bank accounts and catch your bus going west. Call me and we'll arrange a place for me to pick you up. I'll take you to my condo in Florida and you can hang out there until you decide what course of legal action you wish to take."

"How much money would I need?"

"You won't need much. I'm not going to charge you anything to stay at my place. I'm not there most of the time anyway. It just sits empty. All you would have to buy are your groceries and gas for the car, if you want to drive. I keep a car there to drive when I'm at home. How much money can you access?"

"I think there is about forty thousand in savings and eight or nine thousand in the checking account."

"That would keep you going for quite a while, even if you only took half of it."

"I don't know if I could do it."

"Well, you've heard my advice. Now you'll have to decide what to do with it. Whatever you do, don't tell anyone else what you have in mind."

"I don't know."

"I think you should be prepared in case you decide to get away from him."

"You're probably right."

"I know I'm right. If you wait too long, you risk getting cut off from your money and any way to live until you can get reestablished. I think you would also benefit from having someone in your corner."

"Okay, so tell me again about the phones."

"Here is what I think you should do. Buy a prepaid cell phone before you go home. Before you go to the airport, buy a phone."

"I'll buy one sometime next week, away from here. I'm flying to Montana tomorrow. I'll get one there. I've got your business card from last night. I'll call you next week. What is the best time to catch you at your desk?"

"I'm there every day from eight until five. I go to lunch at one."

He thought for a minute. "I won't leave a message. I'll call back if I don't get you. When you answer, I'll give you my new phone number. Then you can call me when you can, with your new cell phone. When you return my call, I'll have your new number. Be sure you don't call any other numbers and don't call that number from any other phones."

"Okay."

"Are you a computer person?"

She actually laughed at him. "You're kidding, right?"

He frowned, then smiled. "Oh yeah, you couldn't very well research companies if you couldn't use a computer. Do you ever go to the library?"

"No."

"You might want to start. Find out where they have public access workstations."

"Sure."

"We will eventually need to send some emails back and forth. Only use the online interface and always delete the history."

"Okay. It sounds like you thought a lot about this. Did you sleep at all last night?"

He smiled. "A little bit."

She looked very seriously at him. "Micah, why are you doing this?"

"I can not stand the idea of you being unhappy."

"You're so sweet." She smiled and reached out to put her hand on his.

He pulled his hand back. She looked up in alarm. "What's wrong?"

Micah took a deep breath. "Nothing, and everything. What I want to do is wrap my arms around you and promise you that everything will be just fine, but that is not an option, at least not for now."

"Micah," she whispered.

"Callie, I have always had a special place in my heart for you. I want you to be happy. If you think you can fix things with Bart, tell me to mind my own business and I will forget about all the foolishness I just described."

Callie looked out across the lake in silence for several minutes. Micah didn't know what to make of her silence until she turned back to him. "I don't think Bart and I can be fixed. I want children and he doesn't."

"Do you want out?"

"Yes, I'm afraid I do. I just need to figure out some things."

"What do you have to figure out?"

"I have to figure out how I'll support myself. I won't very well be able to do what I do from just anywhere."

"Why not? Don't you do everything on line?"

"I suppose I do."

"Does Bart have any influence with your employer?"

"No. Not that I know of. What are you thinking?"

"When you leave, send them a letter outlining your reasons for leaving. Apologize for the lack of notice. Ask if they would entertain the idea of a remote workplace or a relocation for you."

"That might work."

"It is worth a try."

"Callie, I think it would be better if I don't go back to the reunion."

She looked at him in alarm. "Why?"

"I'm just thinking it would be better for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's just assume you eventually decide to leave Bart. It is very likely he will talk to someone that is here this weekend when he tries to find you. When that happens, it will be better if the most anyone remembers is that we sat together at dinner last night."

He turned and looked out over the lake in front of them. What he really wanted to say was that if he went to the dance, he would have to dance with her. He knew that if he ever held her in his arms for more than a few seconds it might lead to other things. She didn't need any more complications in her life at this time. So far, the only thing between them this weekend was meaningful conversation.

He turned back to the beautiful woman sitting on the table beside him. "It is especially important that no one sees us dancing together all night, tonight."

Callie smiled. "Is that what will happen if you come to the dance?"

"I certainly would hope so."

She didn't say anything, but she nodded her agreement.

After a bit, she said, "I'm not sure I want to go to the dance if you aren't going to be there."

"You have to."

"Why?"

"Because if both of us are not at the dance tonight, it might be seen as significant as if we danced together all night. We don't want to do anything that will make anyone think we did more than have a conversation Friday at dinner. Callie, I really think you should go to the dance tonight. If anyone asks about me, you haven't seen me since last night."

"I hate for you to miss anything, because of me."

"Don't worry about it. Honestly, I wouldn't have come to the reunion at all if I hadn't known you were going to be here. If I go to the dance tonight and don't hang out with you, I would probably be forced to spend the evening with the other pathetic losers without dates."

"Micah, you are no loser."

"Thank you. We know that, but there aren't many of our classmates that will ever put forth the effort to find out."

She looked deeply into his eyes. "Maybe in another twenty years."

"Maybe so." There was so much more that Micah wanted to say, but he knew it was better if he didn't.

"We better get you back to your car so you can get ready for the dance."

"What are you going to do?"

"I am going check out of the hotel and drive to Knoxville. I'll get a room over there tonight so I won't have to get up so early in the morning to catch my flight to Billings. It's going to take all day tomorrow to get back."

They walked back to the car. For the first time in a long time, a man opened a car door for her, waited for her to get inside and closed it behind her. She was surprised how she was affected by that simple act. She sat back in her seat and Micah started the car. As soon as they were back on the highway to town she turned to Micah. "Before we get back to my car, I want to make sure I'm clear on everything I need to do. I'm going to buy a prepaid cell phone with cash, somewhere between here and Knoxville. I'll wait for you to call my office next week with your new cell phone number. I'll call your new phone number from my new phone and that will give you my new number. Is that it?"

"Almost. Remember to set your phone to silent. I will never ever call you. If I need to talk to you, I'll text you and ask you to call me back at your convenience. After we get the prepaid cellular phones set up, I'll set up two email accounts that we will only use to communicate with each other. We will only use the online interface to access the email accounts and always delete the history when we log off. We won't save any of our messages. After I pick you up, we'll get rid of the phones."

"Okay, I've got it. When you set up the email account, set the password to 'Callie99'"

"Do you have a laptop computer at home?"

"No, we have a desktop."

"Don't save anything on your home or work computer that would link you to me. You don't want to leave any clues behind. You will want to be able to leave the bus somewhere along the route without anyone noticing, so you will need to travel light. Get some boxes to pack anything you can't fit in your backpack. You can either ship your other things to me, if you have time, or prepay for the storage unit and we will go to New York and pick them up later. Realize you will probably have to leave most of your clothes behind."

"I'll ship them to you. If I ever leave, I don't want to have to go back."

Micah dropped her off at her car and drove around for a few minutes. He decided to get something to eat before he checked out of the hotel. Callie drove straight to the hotel. She walked across the parking lot to a fast food restaurant. As she ate, she realized she was more than a little sad. When she arrived in town, she had hoped to reconnect with a few of her friends, make Steve Burbank jealous and prove to everyone that they were wrong about Callie Simon. Things hadn't worked out like that. Steve didn't come and the only one she had really connected with was Micah. He was quite a surprise, a very pleasant one.

She sat at the table and thought about everything that had happened with her and Bart. They had been in much too much of a hurry to get married. They didn't know each other at all. After they got married, it was too late. She didn't know if Bart changed because she got pregnant or if he had been hiding the real him from her, all along. She knew the job at Fincher Fowler & Pratt had to be a contributing factor. Micah was right, she needed to get away from Bart. She deserved to be happy. She wasn't happy now. That thought reminded her. She took out her cell phone and dialed Bart's hotel. Of course he wasn't in his room. "Hi, Bart. Everything is fine. See ya, Monday afternoon."

She ended the call, finished eating and walked back to the hotel. She noticed Micah's car in the parking lot. She briefly thought about going to his room to say goodbye, but resisted the urge.

Chapter 9

Callie went to her room and got ready for the dance. Everything was just perfect at 7:30. Her hair and makeup was perfect, her tight fitting, low cut, black dress with the mid calf length, flowing skirt looked fabulous. The black heels would be the envy of every woman at the dance. She purposely sat in her room and waited to leave the hotel until she knew she would arrive after the dance started. She knew she might not see these people for several years, if ever again. She decided to make an entrance no one would soon forget. When she got to her car, there was a piece of paper under the wiper blade on the windshield. Her heartbeat quickened. She retrieved it before opening her door and getting inside. After she closed the door, she read a simple message.

C

Good Luck.

Until we meet again,

M

At the Greeneville Country Club, there were about the same number of cars in the parking lot on Saturday night as the night before. By 7:45, the single men and some of the husbands were talking among themselves in pockets around the ballroom. "Does anyone know if Callie Simon is going to be here tonight?"

"Man, I hope so."

"I wonder if she will be wearing the same red dress as last night?"

"I don't know. We can only hope." There were some scattered laughs in the group.

"I heard some of the women complaining about her dress last night."

"What were they saying?"

"They said she was showing off. Friday night was supposed to be casual."

"I heard that she told them it was casual for her."

"I think some of them are just jealous."

"I can't wait to see what she wears tonight, if that was casual. Does anyone have the number for the fire department?"

Some of the women, both single and married, were talking in their groups as well. A group of her classmates in the group she could never quite break into, were the most vocal and catty.

"Everything we sent out about the gathering last night said it was to be casual."

"Can you believe the dress she wore, and then she said it was her idea of casual. Give me a break."

"I bet she'll have the same dress on tonight. It's probably the only party dress she owns, if she didn't borrow it from someone."

"Who does she think she is?"

"She's not here yet. She probably has crawled back to where ever it was that she came from. You know she was a foster kid."

"If she does show up, some of the guys are probably going to make fools of themselves drooling over her. Someone needs to talk to them."

"My husband better not even look at her, much less talk to her."

At eight o'clock, as advertised, the dance began. Midway through the third song, Callie stepped into the ballroom. She smiled. She knew she looked like a million dollars. At that moment, she wished Micah could see her. Little did she know that he did. After they parted, he decided he wanted at least one final glimpse of her, even if it was from across the room. Micah was in a group of men in the back corner.

Within seconds, every single man in the room and many of the married men had noticed the beautiful woman who had just entered the ballroom. If she had any doubt that she would be noticed and asked to dance tonight, those doubts vanished in seconds. The most eligible bachelor in the class of '86 was the first to appear at her side.

"Callie, would you like to dance?"

"Sure." She took his offered hand and stepped onto the dance floor. In her wildest dreams in high school, she would never have imagined being asked to dance by Jack Eller.

When that dance was over, another guy materialized to asked her to dance. Micah watched the woman of his dreams dance two more dances before he left and drove to Knoxville. Callie danced with at least ten of her fellow classmates over the course of the next two hours. With some of them, she only danced once. With others, she danced multiple times. She danced with most all the single guys and some of the married guys who thought they could stand the heat at home later. They all said they wanted to know all about what had been going on in her life for the past fifteen years. Some of them actually seemed to listen when she told them what she wanted them to know. She worked at a Brokerage House and was happily married to a successful attorney in New York City.

For the most part, the male members of the Class of '86 were cordial and friendly, with a few exceptions. Her observation regarding the women during the evening was that the women who considered themselves socially superior to her in high school were the most unhappy with the attention she was taking away from them during the dance. The more the women from the old in crowd looked distressed, the brighter her smile became.

The women who had been socially snubbed during their high school years were extra friendly to her. Her old small circle of friends was honestly interested in talking to her. They enjoyed watching the way she was making all the beautiful people feel uncomfortable.

On a break from dancing to catch her breath, she walked across the room to the refreshment table, alone. She helped herself to a cup of punch. As she stood sipping her punch, watching her classmates on and around the dance floor, she began to reflect. Before this weekend, she would have never believed that being the center of attention at her high school reunion would prove unfulfilling, but it was. She was totally aware of the fact that she was a novelty this weekend. She had transformed herself since high school and was now the pretty girl, but very few in this crowd knew who she was now or who she had been back then when she was just plain Callie. At that moment, she realized her very best friend from high school might also prove to be her very best friend in life. In that instant, she knew she would have traded all those dances tonight for just one with Micah.

Callie set her punch cup on the table and walked to the Ladies Room. In a few minutes, the door opened and she stepped into the hallway. To her left, she could hear dance music behind a set of double doors. To her right, she could see another set of double doors leading to the parking lot. She turned and walked through the double doors. The sound of dance music began to fade and mix with crickets, as she walked to her car, and like Cinderella, she disappeared into the night.

The next morning, she awakened in her hotel room to the strains of a rockabilly anthem coming from the clock radio beside her bed. She was fairly certain she had never heard that particular song played on her favorite New York radio station. It was time to go home. Greeneville had been home at one time, but it was no more. She packed and loaded the little rental car and was on the road to Knoxville by nine o'clock.

She stopped at a gas station in Mosheim, TN. She filled up the car with gas and bought a prepaid cell phone. She continued on to Knoxville and caught her flight home. When she got home it was almost time to call to check in with Bart. She decided to wait for a while. She emptied her suitcase and carried her clothes to the hamper. She set the papers from the reunion on the kitchen table. She didn't feel like cooking, so she heated up a frozen dinner and sat down to eat. It wasn't necessarily tasty, but it would keep her from starving before breakfast. She looked through the papers from the reunion as she ate and decided to throw most of them away. To avoid a nasty confrontation when Bart returned on Monday, she dialed the number for his hotel in Denver. When the call rang through to his room, he was out. What a surprise. "Hi, It's Callie. All is well." She ended the call on the cell phone he bought for her. When she returned to her bedroom, she saw her luggage on the floor beside the bed. She picked up both bags and carried them to the closet. She lifted the overnight bag to its normal spot on an upper shelf and then lifted the suitcase to set it on the shelf beside the overnight bag. As she lifted the suitcase, she heard an unusual noise. She thought she must have not unpacked something so she carried the bag back to the bed and opened it. It was empty but she knew she heard something. She unzipped the internal pockets and also found them empty. She was still certain she had heard something. She picked up the bag again to put it away and heard the sound again. When she set the bag back on the bed, she realized she had not looked in the zippered compartment on the outside of the case. She unzipped what was actually a magazine sized pocket. She looked inside and discovered two diskettes. They were labeled CMA6A and CMA6B, and the labels were written in Bart's distinctive scrawl.

She sat down and took another look at the diskettes. They looked just like the ones they used on their home computer and just like the ones she used at work, but she knew they weren't hers. She wondered why would Bart put two diskettes in her suitcase.

On her second look, she saw dates on the CMA6A diskette. She looked at the dates and noticed there was about a month and a half between each of them. The most recent date was almost two weeks before, 6-5, a week before Bart left for Denver. It became obvious to her that it was probably a set of backup diskettes, but why was Bart doing his own backups? They had discussed her making the backups on their home computer and as far as she knew, he was happy with the way she was doing them.

She walked to their home office and switched on the computer. She laid the two diskettes on the desk and waited for the computer to power up. She opened a drawer in the file cabinet and checked their supply of diskettes. The labels on the diskettes from her suitcase matched their own supply. She also found the backup diskettes she used for their home computer.

When her curiosity got the better of her, she inserted CMA6A into the diskette drive and pulled up a directory listing of the diskette. She had done that on occasion with their home backup diskettes. The directory listing on this diskette did not look like the directory listings on backup diskettes she had seen before. This one looked like a regular directory. She ejected A and inserted B. Its directory listing resembled the other one. None of the file names bore any resemblance to the files and directories on their home computer.

At her office, the IT department was responsible for backups. Fincher Fowler & Pratt was a big firm. She was surprised that Bart had to do his own backups. She was about to eject the second diskette when she pointed the mouse pointer to one of the files and double clicked on the file name.

A window popped up, prompting her for a password. C. Bartlett Kramer was a very good attorney in a high powered New York City law firm, but he hated computer passwords with a passion. He complained that he could never remember them. When they first got married, Callie had helped him make up a password that was considered strong, but easy to remember. They hadn't talked about those kinds of things in forever. She still remembered it and wondered if he still used it.

She typed in the combination of letters and digits and clicked on OK. The file opened. She was now certain that Bart was the owner of the diskette. He wasn't just storing it for someone else. Her momentary feelings of success were soon replaced with confusion. The file opened on her screen, but she couldn't make heads or tails of it. The file had eight columns of data, but it made no sense. She closed the file and opened another one. It had the same format as the first one. She closed it and opened another. The third file was different, but equally confusing. It contained three columns of letters and numbers. Callie exited the file and ejected the diskette. She turned off the computer. She picked up the two diskettes and walked back to their bedroom.

This was just great. All she needed was another dilemma. She couldn't very well ask Bart about the diskettes and not disclose that she had used the suitcase while he was gone. She put the diskettes back in the suitcase and put the suitcase on the shelf in her closet where it was always stored. On Monday morning she went to work as usual. Not knowing a safe place to keep her new phone, she took it to work and locked it in her desk drawer.

Chapter 10

Monday afternoon Bart was already home when Callie there. He was reading what looked like some papers from work. In the early days of their marriage, he could easily be enticed to have a little intimate interlude before dinner, but those days were apparently gone forever. Her attempt this afternoon to be affectionate was met with indifference and ultimately a turn down, as usual. They talked a little more than usual, but he didn't once mention his trip to Denver other than to say he had picked up several baseball cards. The man was obsessed with baseball cards. Later that evening, he got ready to go play poker as usual on Monday night. She tried again, to persuade him to stay at home with her, but he wouldn't. While he was out, she pulled her memory box from the top of her closet and began to go through things like Micah suggested, pulling out anything that could connect her to anyone back in Tennessee. When she finished, she stacked everything back in the box and put it on the shelf in the top of the closet, beside her suitcase. Next she pulled her suitcase from the shelf. She unzipped the side pocket and looked inside. The pocket was empty. She zipped the pocket closed and put the suitcase back on the shelf.

During the night, she woke up and felt Bart's presence in bed with her, although they were nowhere close to touching in the king size bed. She slipped from the bed and walked to the living room. She picked up his computer case where he always left it, and carried it to the guest bathroom. She quietly closed and locked the door. She turned on the light and unzipped the front outside pocket of the case. She quickly looked through its contents. The diskettes weren't there. She looked through three other pockets with the same results. She had almost given up when she thought about looking in the main compartment. She quickly discovered the same diskettes that had she had found in her suitcase, stuffed beside the laptop. She put everything back in the case as it was, and returned the bag to its regular place in the living room.

I wonder what that is about? For most of the rest of the night, she struggled to find sleep. The last time she remembered looking at the clock on her nightstand, it was 4:38. The next morning, as usual, Bart left for work before Callie. She went to work but left an hour early in the afternoon. On her way home, she stopped to check her mailbox and while she was there, she rented a storage unit and bought a lock.

Before going home she stopped at a grocery store, bought a few items and got an extra hundred dollars cash. Bart wasn't home when she got there, but that wasn't unusual. She cooked dinner and ate alone. He got home in time to eat while the food was still warm.

Wednesday morning, she stopped to drop off her pictures, mementos and the extra cash at the storage unit on her way to work. Wednesday afternoon her office phone rang. She picked up the receiver and said, "Callie Simon." A voice on the other end that did not sound like Micah, said, "I found that number you wanted Saturday. It is 406-555-2359. Did you get it?"

She repeated it back, "406-555-2359. Thank you."

Over the next few weeks, it became her habit to withdraw extra cash every time she had the opportunity. Sometimes it was an extra ten, sometimes twenty or a hundred. It all went into an old wallet she had taken to the storage unit. She frequently stopped at the storage unit on her way to work to drop off things she didn't want to leave behind. Over time, the storage unit became a refuge of sorts. Paranoia also began to build in her mind as she imagined what it would look like if someone saw what she was accumulating in her unit. She decided to get a tension rod and a cheap shower curtain to hang, a foot or so inside the door so that if it was open and someone walked by, they could not casually see what was inside. From then on, any time the door was raised, the curtain concealed the rest of the unit. When she bought a back pack and dropped it off, she realized she was actually going to go through with it. She was actually going to leave Bart. She just didn't know when. She hoped she was making the right decision.

One day she got a text message. "check sg336915@emailme.com"

At the library that afternoon, she stopped to check the new email account. There was a single message: "my email is lp336915@emailme.com"

The next day, during lunch she stopped at the library and sent a message to lp336915@emailme.com

I am definitely going to take a vacation. Not sure yet when or where. I'm thinking lately I might prefer a train ride.

P.S. What is lp and sg?

The next time she checked sg336915@emailme.com she had a message.

Advise when plans are firm. Trains are great. Lab Partner & Sweet Girl

In a few days she received another message. "Watch for snail mail."

She replied, "Okay. I prefer Loyal Prince"

A week later, she stopped on her way to work to check her mailbox. There was a letter with no return address.

The message was type written. It started:

I would rather talk face to face, but this will have to do. Be sure to destroy this after reading and don't take it home.

"He must think I'm an idiot," she thought.

I have given this situation a lot of thought and have some more recommendations. When you decide on a date, send a text message with the date alone. I will reply with a vacation destination where I think you should go for the best vacation. Book a ticket to that location and send a text with the route name. I'll send a message to let you know where I will pick you up. A diversion would be good too, so a day or two before you take off, book an airline flight somewhere. Schedule the flight for the evening you are leaving. Be sure to use your joint credit card.

Disable your old cell phone before you leave town. Make sure it is not working at least an hour before you leave. When you are underway, send me a text message using the new phone.

LP

She read his letter twice and ran it through the shredder when she got to work. For several days after she made her decision to leave Bart, she had second and third and even fourth thoughts. Giving up on their marriage was a bitter pill for her to swallow. Everything had been fine between them until she got pregnant. She should have taken her own precautions instead of relying on him, but she never dreamed there would be issues. Everyday, for the past several months, she had been alert for any sign that their marriage could be saved. Through those long sad days, he gave no indication things would ever get any better between them. He didn't even seem to want to talk to her and avoided her most days. She continued to sock away as much cash as she thought she could, without his detection. She did some research on line and got the size limits for carry on bags for Amtrak. One evening when he was away on business, she went shopping and bought a duffel to go with her backpack that would meet the size limitations.

On Monday, August 20, two men appeared at the opening to Callie's cubicle. That, in itself, was not unusual. As one of them asked, "Is there someplace we could talk in private?" They both flashed their identification. They were a little surprised with her reaction. She actually showed no reaction. The two FBI agents were surprised that she remained cordial. That was not the reaction they usually received on an unannounced visit to someone's place of employment.

"Sure, we can use one of the small meeting rooms. Come this way." Before she left her cubicle, she looked over the wall to Paula. "If anyone comes looking for me, I'll be with these gentlemen in one of the small meeting rooms." She led them down a little hallway. She stopped at an open door and wrote "Kramer" on a dry erase board by the door and stepped inside. "You can close the door if you want."

The two agents looked at each other in disbelief. The second agent closed the door.

"Please have a seat," she said as she took her seat at the round table.

When they were all seated, she said, "Okay, I'm sorry, I didn't catch your names. What can I do for you gentlemen?"

They introduced themselves again as Special Agents Sam Waters and Trent Maddox. "We have a few questions we would like to ask you."

"Okay. I must admit, this is the first time I've been asked questions by the FBI. From time to time I've been asked to provide information to the SEC, but this is the first time I've been approached by you guys."

"Well, Mrs. Kramer, this is going to be a little different."

"I don't understand."

"Mrs. Kramer, your husband is an associate at Fincher Fowler & Pratt. Is that correct?"

"Yes," she said with the first hint of trepidation the agents detected.

"We have reason to believe that a person or persons at Fincher Fowler & Pratt are involved in some questionable activities."

Momentarily, the color left Callie's face.

The second agent continued. "We don't believe your husband is deeply involved, but we need to talk to him."

Callie realized Bart might be in trouble. So it's these guys that are following Bart. She thought that these guys would expect a wife to respond in a certain was so she quickly decided to try to appear appropriately indignant. She waited a few moments for their statement to sink in, then decided to tell them something close to the truth. "I am fairly certain you are not going to believe me when I say this gentlemen, but I have absolutely no idea what my husband does at work. When he worked at Singleton, Rogers and Judd, he used to come home everyday and tell me about his day. When he went to work at Fincher Fowler & Pratt that all stopped. He makes good money, but I hardly ever see him anymore. For the past four years, sixty hours is a short week for him. All I know is that when he was being recruited, he was told that a lot of their clients could not meet during regular business hours, so he has a lot of night meetings."

"I can imagine that could put a strain on a marriage."

"You could say that."

"Do you have any children?"

"No, he doesn't want any." Why did I say that?

"Mrs. Kramer, we need to talk to your husband as soon as possible if we are going to be able to help him. We thought it safer not to contact him directly." Agent Maddox held up a plain white card with a number handwritten on it. "Tell him to call me any time, day or night. It would probably be best to call from a pay phone."

Agent Maddox slid the card across the table. Callie picked it up. The two agents stood to leave. "Mrs. Kramer, if your husband is involved, we may be able to help him, if he can help us."

Callie sat at the table staring at the card until Paula stuck her head in the door. "Are you going to need this room much longer?"

She was shaken from her trance. "I'm on my way out now."

"Who were those guys? The tall one was cute."

"They had some questions about one of the stock issues I'm researching."

She walked out the door past Paula without really answering her question.

For the rest of the day, Callie wrestled with how to approach Bart about her visitors. She figured she would have time to come up with a plan after she got home, before he got there. She was wrong. From time to time, as bad as their marriage was, she caught glimpses of the Bart she fell in love with and married. That afternoon, was one of them. When she opened the door of their apartment, he was waiting. He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her for the first time in months. "Let's go out tonight." She was shocked, but when he smiled and rubbed her shoulders, she forgot all the good reasons she should refuse. He kissed her on the forehead and said, "You probably should change clothes. We don't have to do anything fancy. Let's just hang out."

It was then that she noticed he had changed out of his standard lawyer uniform and into jeans and an open collar shirt. In somewhat of a daze, she went to their room and changed clothes. She noticed his cell phone on his dresser when she was walking out of their room and picked it up. He smiled when she handed it to him when she got back to the living room. Instead of putting it in his pocket he set it on the table by the door before they walked out of the apartment. She was shocked, and a little worried. He led her to the building lobby and out to the sidewalk. Instead of walking down the street to the garage for the car, he turned to her and said, "It's a beautiful tonight, let's walk for a while."

"Okay." She was starting to get apprehensive.

Two blocks from their apartment, he asked, "What would you like to have for dinner?"

This wasn't like Bart. He always had something in mind when he suggested they go out, but she decided to play along. "How about pizza? We haven't been out for pizza in a long time."

He dropped her hand that he had been holding and put his arm around her waist. "Okay. Where?"

Callie stopped and turned to look him in the eye. "I don't know, let's try something new."

He smiled and she could almost see the old Bart. "Okay." He hailed the next cab that came down the street. When they got inside, the driver said, "Where to?"

Bart looked at Callie and smiled. "Let me ask you a question, sir. Where is the best pizza you've ever eaten?"

The driver smiled. "In New York?"

"Yes."

"Without a doubt, it is Zini's in Brooklyn."

Bart thought about it for a second or two. "If I'm not mistaken, Zini's is not too far from here."

"It's eight or ten blocks. You asked for the best. It is the best."

"Okay. Zini's it is. Let's go."

"Alright."

They settled into the cab and in almost no time, they rolled up in front of a little neighborhood Pizzeria. "This is it."

"You're sure?" Bart said as he paid the fare and started to get out.

"Yes, I guarantee it. Here," the driver said as he handed Bart a card. "Call me when you finish eating. If you don't love it, I'll take you home for free."

Bart smiled, "Sure you will. I'll probably never see you again."

"I'm serious. I know you'll like it. If it's not, call me. I'll take you home, at no charge."

"Okay."

Inside, Bart walked to a booth in one of the corners of the dining room, opposite the double swinging doors of the kitchen and a hallway leading to restrooms and a back door. He waited for Callie to choose a side of the booth and then slid in beside her. For the first time in a long time, they sat on the same side of a booth in a restaurant. He looked around. This place was perfect for what he had in mind tonight. There were eight tables in the center of the dining room. They were sitting in the last of six booths along the wall, opposite the kitchen door. Four booths stood on the wall shared with the kitchen. There was only one other couple in the dining room. There was plenty of privacy.

A gum chewing girl that looked like she might still be in high school, brought two menus and two glasses of water and put them on the table. A black badge with gold lettering proclaimed her name to be Antonia. "Welcome to Zini's," she said, with a clear lack of enthusiasm. Next she asked, like she was working down a script, "Have you dined with us before?"

Bart looked at the girl and smiled. "Dined with us before? Who says that anymore?"

She stopped and looked at Bart and then Callie. She quickly scanned the dining room and then leaned in a little closer. "No one does, but my Papa makes me say it, every single time." She exhaled with frustration.

Bart laughed. It was the first time Callie remembered seeing him relaxed for a long time. He said, "Actually it is our first visit to your fine establishment."

Antonia smiled. "Can I get you something to drink while you look at the menu?"

Bart looked up at her and grinned. "Is that the next line of your Papa's script, or is it your own?"

Antonia giggled. "It's mine. After I ask you if you've ever dined with us, I get to say pretty much what ever I feel is appropriate. So, can I get you something?"

"Sure, I'll have a cola."

Antonia looked to Callie. "And you?"

"I'll have a diet whatever you have."

"I'll be right back." True to her word, she was back in under two minutes. She set the glasses on the table and asked, "Do you need a little more time to look over the menu?"

Bart and Callie exchanged a look. It was the first time that had happened in a long time. Callie smiled and said, "The cab driver that brought us over here guaranteed us that you have the best pizza in town."

Antonia rolled her eyes and mumbled something under her breath.

Callie said, "Excuse me? Did I say something?"

Antonia frowned. "Oh no. It's just that he is at it again."

"Who is?"

"There is this cab driver. He wants to go out with my mom and she isn't interested. At least once a week, he brings someone to the restaurant. I don't know how he manages it. Sometimes it's two or three in a week. He guarantees that you will be happy with your meal or he will take you home for free."

"That's exactly what he said. Has he taken many people home for free?"

"None that I know of."

"Interesting," Bart said.

"The really annoying thing is that he comes in here about once a week to talk to Mom and brag about how much business he is bringing us. He likes to think he is like some sort of restaurant promotion expert. He evidently gives people his card and he asks them to call him for a ride if they don't like the food. He also asks them to call and let him know if they are happy with the food. I guess he thinks if he sends enough business to the restaurant, Mom will eventually go out with him.

"Is it working?"

"Not at all."

Bart pulled the cab driver's card from his pocket. "Is this the guy?"

Antonia looked at the card and put it down on the table. "Yes, Joey Bosco. That's him."

"Okay, Antonia, what is your favorite pizza?"

"That's easy. My most favorite is the supreme on thin crust." She looked down at her name tag. "This thing says Antonia, but you can call me Toni."

"Okay Toni, we'll take a medium. No, make that a large."

Toni smiled. "It will be ready in about twenty minutes. I know you'll like it."

While they waited for their pizza, Bart and Callie had a conversation about their upcoming vacation. Callie wasn't looking forward at all to going anywhere with Bart these days, but he came home about a week before and said they were going on a road trip vacation this year. For the sake of appearances, they took off from work the same two weeks together every year. They usually went somewhere, but some years they just stayed home. The way things had been going she didn't figure they would go anywhere this year.

"We have never been on a road trip, so this time on our vacation, we are going to drive to the South Carolina Low Country."

"What? Are you crazy?" The idea of a road trip, out of the blue, was so typical of the way he had been since shortly after going to work for Fincher Fowler & Pratt.

"We are going to take road trip to Charleston, South Carolina."

"That's almost to Georgia."

"Good, you are familiar with it?"

"Why not just fly?"

"The drive is what we will be doing."

"Bart, I don't know that we can survive a trip like that."

"Look, Babe, we will be fine. You've got almost a month to get used to the idea. We are going to leave, bright and early on Saturday, the 15th."

Toni arrived with their pizza before Callie could respond to his last comment. She put it on the table along with two plates and forks. "If you need anything else, I'll be around."

They ate the pizza and agreed that it was very tasty. He thought the crust was the key. Not surprisingly, she thought it was the sauce. Toni came back to check on them from time to time. When they finished eating, she took the pan, plates and forks. She brought refills for their drinks.
They continued talking for quite some time. At about 8:30, Toni came by to check on them, again. Bart asked, "Toni, what time do you close?"

"Let's see, it's Monday. We close at ten."

"Can we get our ticket? I would like to take care of it and you, but stick around here for a while to talk, if it's no problem."

She looked around the nearly deserted dining room. "I don't see a problem. It doesn't look like we are going to need your table."

"Good." Toni put their ticket on the table and turned to leave them. "Hold on a minute," he said.

Toni stopped and turned around. "Yes?"

Bart pulled out his wallet and pulled out three twenty dollar bills. Will this cover the pizza and give you a good tip.

She looked at the three bills and smiled. "Yes, Sir. It will be my best tip ever on a Monday night."

"Toni, one more thing." Bart picked up the business card, looked at the name and handed it to the girl. "Would you call Mr. Bosco and ask him to pick us up at 9:45?"

"What do I say if he asks if you liked the food?"

Callie leaned forward and smiled. "Tell him we loved it."

Toni disappeared but came back in a few minutes to see if they needed more refills. "He said he will be here at 9:45."

"Thanks."

Toni turned and walked away. Bart took a deep breath and said, "Callie, I've got something I need to tell you."

Her heart dropped into her stomach. After a few seconds, she asked, "What is it?"

"It's kind of a long story."

She didn't respond so he continued. "Not long after I started working for Fincher Fowler & Pratt, I began to have suspicions about some of our clients. If you will remember, not long after I changed jobs I quit telling you anything that went on at work."

Callie nodded. "I noticed."

"Well, I did that so that if you were ever asked, you could truthfully say you don't know anything about my job."

Considering her conversation with the FBI, she was more than a little apprehensive. "Bart, you are scaring me."

He frowned. "I know. I'm sorry. To protect you, I'm still not going to tell you anything about any of our clients. I've been involved in some things that I didn't want to do."

"Have you done anything that is against the law?"

"You don't want me to answer that."

"Bart, why are you telling me any of this?"

"Because at some point, it may be necessary for me, and you, to relocate, in a hurry."

"You're scaring me again," she said. Her mind began to race. In those seconds, she made up her mind, once and for all. She fixed her eyes on him with the most serious face she could muster. It would almost be funny if you didn't look so serious. Here you are, telling me that we may need to get away from some unnamed someone and I am sitting here knowing I'm leaving you. I hope I can keep a straight face through this. The best thing for me to do is play along and humor you.

"I'm sorry. I think someone may be following me."

"Oh, Bart. Who is it?"

"I don't know. That is the reason we came here tonight."

"I don't understand."

"I wanted to be able to talk to you without worrying about someone else listening. I can't be sure the house and the car are not bugged."

Callie began to gather her wits about her. "Okay, what can you tell me?"

In a very low voice, he leaned close to her and said, "Like I said, we may need to relocate on short notice."

She turned to look him in the eye. "How short?"

"Hopefully we would have at least a few hours."

"Bart, what have you gotten us into?"

He hesitated for a few seconds and looked around the dining room. "You don't want to know."

She looked at him and frowned. She shook her head. "That's the second time you've told me that. So, what is your plan?"

"I've put together a nest egg."

She raised her eye brows. "A nest egg?"

He took her hand. "Yes. You know I've been collecting baseball cards for a long time."

She rolled her eyes. "So, you plan to sell baseball cards to live?"

He nodded. "Yes, but that's only a part of it. My collection is in a safe location."

She pulled her hand away. "Bart, this is nuts. You're scaring me again."

He sat up straighter. "I'm sorry it is happening this way. I wouldn't be doing this if I felt like there was any other way."

"Okay, if I agree to this nonsense, what are we going to do?"

"It is not a question about agreeing. For your own good you will just do as I say."

"Bart?"

"I'm not kidding. I don't want to leave you behind, but if you don't do what I say, I will. If it ever becomes necessary."

Callie sighed. "What do you want me to do?" The loving, caring Bart that she thought she might have found when she got home that evening was gone and the controlling Bart was back. The doubts she had been having about leaving him were also gone. She couldn't be sure, but she began to suspect that Bart was deeper into this trouble than he admitted.

"Okay, that's better. I have $500 cash stashed in a book in my office. I also have $500 hidden in my wallet. I want you to do the same in case we need to take off when we are at work."

"Let me make sure I understand this. We are going to take a thousand dollars out of the bank, split it and hide it in my purse and at my office. What about at home?"

"I already have $2000 stashed there. I also have the cash for you to squirrel away, so there is really $3000 at home."

"Okay, so let's say I've got everything stashed as you say it. What then?"

"If I ever contact you with the code phrase, I want you to meet me at noon the next day in the coffee shop across the street from the Amtrak Station in Boston. Do you have any questions?"

"A few."

"Okay."

"What is the code phrase?"

"I have tickets for the opera."

She actually laughed. "That's pretty good. I can't imagine we would ever actually go there. What then?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what do I do next?"

"You wait for me."

She frowned. "What if you don't show up?"

"If that is the case, you are on your own, but you would be better off there than if you were at home and I left."

"That doesn't sound too good, for me."

"Everything will be fine. I will join you in Boston. We'll make arrangements to pick up the nest egg and be on our way to a safe haven, out of harm's way."

"Bart, I don't know about this. There has to be a better way. There is no guarantee that when and if decide to activate your plan we will both be at home or at our offices. What if you are on one of your business trips?"

"What do you mean?"

"Let's say you are in Atlanta, San Francisco, Dallas or some place else when you decide you need to activate the plan. It may be impossible for you or me or both of us to get to Boston by noon the next day. We need to have the ability to adapt, in case something doesn't go according to plan. If we are hiding out, we can't afford to sit at a coffee shop for several days. It would also help if I knew who was trying to find us."

"You have some good points," Bart said, and looked around the dining room. "Do you have any suggestions?"

Callie smiled. "Of course I do. I'm your wife. First, if you think the apartment or the car might be bugged, we need to find out for sure. We have to know whether it is safe or not to talk at home. We need to hire someone to detect bugs. Since you think someone may be following you, it will probably be best for me to take care of finding someone. Second, we need a signal that we need to get out of the house to a place we can talk. Third, we need a way to communicate with each other in an emergency."

"Can you find someone to sweep the place tomorrow?"

"I can do that."

"What do you think would be a good signal to get out of the house to talk?"

"Let's wait and see if the apartment is bugged first."

"That's reasonable."

"As far as a way to communicate in an emergency, I can set up an email account for us. We would never actually send messages from the account and we would never give the address out. If we need to communicate, we could log on and create the draft of a message. For instance, if you were in San Diego and you need me to drop out of sight, you could call me and tell me that I need to call my niece. I would know to check the draft email message telling me where to meet or some other information. Also, if you had to drop out of sight and didn't have time to call, I would know to check the email account for information when I couldn't get in touch with you. If I can find a site that will allow us to encrypt our messages, it would be even better."

"That's two more passwords to remember."

"If you want, we can use that one I helped you make up after we got married."

"We can do that?"

"They won't know it isn't different from all your other passwords."

"That seems like a lot to remember."

"If we ever need it, it won't be too much to remember."

"Okay, when can you do it?"

"At least by tomorrow."

"That sounds like a good idea. You can pass me a note like back in grade school when you have it set up. I'm sure I'll have questions."

"Remember, don't say anything at home about the account until we know that no one is listening."

"Come on, let's go home. Our taxi should be here soon."

They walked out the front door as the taxi rolled up a little before 9:45. They got in and rode home. A half a block down the street, a nondescript sedan began to follow the cab. When the cab stopped in front of their building, the trailing car kept going. A man in another car across the street watched as they walked inside.

Chapter 11

It wasn't long after they got home that Bart's phone rang and he had to go out. They had not been big on conversations at home for quite some time, but tonight it was even more difficult to make small talk when they suspected that someone might be listening. When he left, Callie sat down at their home computer and set up the new account.

When he got home, she was already asleep. When he came to bed, he found a note on his pillow.

New account: cbcb1996@emailme.com

password: BartCa11ie the ls are ones

Try it tomorrow and leave a message.

At work the next day Callie made a few calls to private investigators and found one that could check their apartment for listening devices at nine o'clock on Wednesday morning. The investigator emailed her a script of sorts that they would use while conducting the sweep. Callie arranged to stay at home that morning. On Wednesday, her tail wondered why she was not leaving for work at her regular time. At 8:45, a cargo van from Big Apple Designs and Interiors, parked in front of the building. A very attractive woman got out of the van and unloaded two large sample cases. She placed them on a two wheel dolly and walked into the Kramer's building.

The door bell rang and Callie answered the door. "Good morning, Sara, I'm so glad you could come so quickly."

"Good morning, Mrs. Kramer."

"Oh, please call me Callie. Let's sit at the table so I can see the samples you brought."

"When you called yesterday and told me what you wanted to do, I pulled together a few samples that I thought might interest you, but before we look at them I would like to look around and get a feel for your apartment. You said you wanted me to make some recommendations for your window treatments. If you don't mind, would you close the curtains so I can take a look at them."

"Sure, I can do that."

As soon as the curtains were pulled, Sara began to unpack her equipment from the two sample cases. Two minutes later, she began to sweep for electronic eavesdropping devices. As she swept the living room, she kept up a running dialog of observations about the room and its decor. As she moved out of the living room, she gave Callie a thumbs up. Callie played along and said, "I'm pretty happy with the dining room. What do you think of the wall color and how it works with the table and chairs?"

As she said, "I don't see any problems with the wall color," she pointed to the light fixture hanging over the dining table. She set her sweeping device on the table and removed a laser pointer from her pocket and shined it on a tiny square of brass that didn't quite match the rest of the fixture. If you don't mind, I'll take some pictures so that when I get back to the studio I'll be able to remember everything exactly as it is." She walked around the room taking pictures.

"I think I've seen enough in here to have a good idea of your current theme. Let's take a look at the rest of the house." She smiled and pointed to her ears. "I'm going to need more pictures." Sara walked to the master bedroom with Callie close behind. The discovery of the first bug increased the young woman's intensity. She proceeded to take pictures and find bugs in the master bedroom, the master bath, the home office, and a sweep of the kitchen turned up one over the sink. They didn't find anything in the third bedroom or the second bathroom. Without a word, Sara returned to the living room and swept it again.

When she was convinced it was clean, she packed away her electronic sweeper and said, "You can open the curtains now." While Callie opened the curtains, Sara pulled out some fabric swatches and paint samples. She handed Callie her business card. "Now that I've seen your apartment, I'm going to go back to the studio and make some drawings. This place has a lot of potential. We will need to set up an appointment for me to show you my ideas."

"How soon?"

"I'll call you in a few days. I think you and your husband will be interested to see the options I put together."

"I'm sure he will. We'll look forward to it."

"Okay." Sara stood to leave and began to load her two wheel cart. Sara mouthed to Callie, "Ride down with me."

"If you'll wait just a second," Callie said, "I'll ride down with you. I'm going to go on to work now."

"Great, where do you work?"

"Peabody Strauss on Greenwich Street in Manhattan."

"Really, I've got to go up on Broadway, I can drop you."

Callie followed her out the door. When they were in the hall, Sara mouthed, "Don't talk yet."

Callie nodded her head in agreement. In the elevator, Sara took a card and wrote on the back. "Don't say anything important until we are in my van."

She handed it to Callie. Callie read it and nodded.

Down the block, across the street in a vacant apartment, two members of Team C saw Callie emerge from the apartment building with an unknown woman. Through binoculars they watched her get into a van.

"It looks like the Kramers might be getting ready to do some decorating."

"Where is Bob?"

"He is parked a block up, waiting for her to pass."

"You better let him know he will be driving and not walking today."

"Will do."

"Trent said they have a line on an apartment right across the street. It would sure make our lives easier."

"You better call Bob."

"10-4"

When they were safely inside the van, Sara said, "I didn't want you to say anything in the hallway outside your door or in the elevator, because they might have bugged them too. Do you have any idea who would do this?"

"I hoped you could tell me. Can you tell anything from the bugs they used?"

"I don't think they are legal."

"What do you mean?"

"They don't look like the stuff the police and the FBI use these days. Don't get me wrong, the devices are good, but they are a few generations old."

"What should we do now?"

"That is always a good question. You could dump them all in the toilet, but then whoever bugged your apartment would know. You have three clean rooms, the living room, the third bedroom and the second bathroom. You should conduct all your private conversations in one of those rooms. I probably wouldn't talk about anything important in the living room. It's pretty close to the bugs in the kitchen and dining room. You could put in new light fixtures and get rid of three of them without seeming to know about them. A new computer hutch would take care of another one and a new bed would take care of the last one, but if they got in to install them once, they could probably do it again. I notice you have a dry erase board in the kitchen. I would definitely get at least one more and two would be better. That will allow you and your husband to communicate without talking. Playing music in the rooms with bugs will help mask your conversations. You can start playing music all the time, the louder the better, and really give them headaches. I would either buy a new player or a new CD to provide whoever is listening with an explanation for the sudden interest in music, if you haven't had one before. Be sure to say something about it so they will know it is new."

"That's a good idea. What about TVs?"

"Sure, they make good masking noise too."

Sara dropped Callie at her office in Manhattan. Bob reported that she was at work. Sara really did go up on Broadway, to a fabric store. After she paid for a bag of pillow stuffing, she walked to the store's front window and saw the blue Oldsmobile that had followed them from Brooklyn was still parked out front, three spaces behind her van. She made a call and two minutes later, an unmarked box truck pulled up alongside the car. A man with a clipboard jumped out of the truck, ran around to the back, raised the door and pulled out a small box. He turned and walked inside a building across the street. With the her tail effectively boxed in, Sara calmly walked to her van and drove away. When the driver of the box truck got another call from Sara, he returned to his truck and drove away.

Thursday when Bart got home from work, he picked up his dry erase board at the door. With a smile on his face he found Callie in their bedroom. He held up the board for her. It read, "I drafted a message."

She smiled and said, "Hi, how was your day?"

"Same ole, same ole." He smiled and pointed to the headboard. "Have you ever seen one of those gadgets that plays the sound of waves, or running water, or white noise to help you sleep?"

"I think so."

"I'm thinking about getting one to see if it will help me sleep."

"It would be worth a try. I bought a new CD today."

"You did?"

"I sure did."

"What did you get?"

She held up a CD and laughed. "I bought the soundtrack from O Brother, Where Art Thou?"

He laughed, too. "Why?"

"I know it's not my usual kind of music, but I liked the movie."

He remembered the movie she had dragged him to see. As he remembered it, the music would be great for their purposes. "Let's put it on."

"Come on." She held up her marker board. "It will drive our listeners nuts."

He nodded. They both smiled, a very rare event. Bart left the bedroom and took the CD to the living room. In under a minute the apartment was filled with the sounds of the movie. A few minutes later, she found him and showed him her marker board. "I saw the draft of the message. I think it will work if we ever need it."

He scribbled on his board and held it up. He walked to the third bedroom. She followed him inside and closed the door. Even though the room was supposed to be free of listening devices, he turned on the TV and neither of them spoke much above a whisper.

Bart sat down on the bed and patted it for Callie to sit beside him. He said, "The bugs bother me."

"I know what you mean."

"I'm afraid it's either Fincher Fowler & Pratt or one of our clients. Some of them are not above doing something like this. I'm afraid we may need our cbcb mailbox sooner than I would have liked."

She also thought it might be the FBI, despite the Private Investigator's observations, but she didn't share her concerns "You won't tell me more?"

"I can't. Just remember this. A few years back there was a song that had a lyric that went 8675309. Remember that?"

"Why?"

"That is all I'm going to say. What was the lyric?"

"8675309."

"And it went over and over again."

"Okay." Callie was confused but didn't ask anymore questions. She made an assumption that the number had something to do with the nest egg he had hidden somewhere.

The following Monday, Agents Waters and Maddox met with their investigative team. Sam asked the group, "How is the happy couple these days?"

"They haven't left the apartment together since the first day we started the surveillance." The Team Leader for Team C said, "and another thing, they may be getting ready to do some decorating. Wednesday morning Mrs. Kramer met with a decorator at the apartment."

Sam continued, "In our initial interview, I got the impression she was not a happy camper,"

The Team Leader for Team B said, "I wonder if she might give him up?"

Maddox answered, "She claims she doesn't know anything about his work."

"Convenient, don't you think?" one of the Team C members added.

"All we can do is keep our eyes on them and hope one of them makes a mistake," Maddox said.

Waters stood up. "Time to get to work."

The room emptied except for Waters and Maddox. "Sam, I just get the feeling there is something else going on here."

"What do you mean?"

"Mrs. Kramer seemed awfully cool when we met with her the other day and Mr. Kramer hasn't called."

"She claimed she had worked with the SEC on some things. Maybe she is just a cool customer."

"She could be. I had expected at least a little change in her husband. From what our guys are telling me, he hasn't changed anything about his routine and he doesn't seem to be any more nervous than he was."

The longer Bart worked at Fincher Fowler & Pratt, the more suspicious he had become of their standard practices and procedures until he had no doubts. By that time, he was in too deep, as they say, in the illegal activities. The problem was that now he didn't know how to get out. Despite what his supervising partner and the managing partners constantly drummed into the associates, he knew things were not on the up and up. When he became aware of someone bugging his apartment and following him, he just knew it had to be his employer. He felt confused, angered and betrayed, not good feelings to have for your employer.

On Tuesday morning, Callie stopped to check her secret mailbox on the way to work. Team C took note. Later Tuesday morning, another Team C member paid a visit to Self Service Storage and learned that Callie Kramer had a mailbox and a storage unit at their facility.

On Wednesday, Callie realized Bart hadn't been out of town for over two weeks. It was unusual for him.

At their Thursday meeting, the investigators talked about Callie's mailbox and storage unit as well as Bart staying close to home. There was discussion, but there was no consensus as to what it meant.

Thursday night, after a rare dinner together, Callie noticed Bart working in their home office. He was actually using their desktop computer and his laptop at the same time. His cell phone rang a few minutes after nine and after a short conversation, he gathered a few things, stuffed them into his computer case and headed out the door. On his way out, he said, "One of the clients has an emergency and I have to try to sort it out. I'll probably be late."

A few minutes after Bart left, she noticed the light on in the office and went to turn it off. When she got to the door, she saw that he had left the power cord for his computer. If he was going to be late, he might need it, so she hurried downstairs to the lobby with the idea of catching him at the garage they rented for the car. He had more of a head start than she thought. He drove past the building as she pushed the door open. She waved but he didn't see her. A car parked along the street pulled out behind him in a hurry. It had tinted windows and no chrome. She remembered what Bart told her the last time they went out. He thought someone might be following him. Now she did too. The question was, who was it?

She went back upstairs and returned to the office. The chair bumped the desk when she pushed it in and the computer monitor came back on. In his rush to leave, he forgot to log off. On the screen was the web site of a Gold Dealer located close to his office. She was immediately concerned. If he was serious about relocating, he might try to convert their cash to gold. It became clear that it was time to make a move.

Bart wasn't gone as long as he expected and got home before Callie went to bed. She didn't mention anything about the car that followed him. Friday morning, she was on the lookout for someone following her as she walked to the subway station. She didn't see one, but knew she should start being more aware of her surroundings. At work, she called HR to see what was necessary to change her payroll direct deposit. A few minutes later, she went to fill out the necessary forms.

Friday afternoon when he got home, Bart said he had to fly to Denver the following Monday. He said he would be back on Friday night. They would still be ready to leave for Charleston on Saturday. Her heart almost stopped at the news. It was the perfect opportunity. It was too bad he didn't tell her about the trip on Thursday. Now she would have to wait to leave until Tuesday because there were things that had to be done that could only be done on a business day. Even so, she would have almost a three day head start before he would find out she was gone, if everything went according to plan. Hopefully there would be enough time to meet Micah and drop out of site.

Friday night Bart had another of his late night emergency calls. He left the apartment at 9:45. Callie made good use of her time. She looked through her closet and picked out the last of her clothes to ship to Micah's condo. She set them aside.

Saturday, she couldn't wait for Bart to leave to play golf, if that was really what he did. She put the last of the clothes she wanted to take with her into a book bag and a shopping bag and headed to the storage unit. She walked the three blocks and went inside. Her shadow picked a spot across the street and waited patiently. She first stopped to buy boxes, then she walked through the maze of hallways to her locker, worked the combination and stepped inside. She smiled and switched on the light. She looked to see that no one was in the hall and closed the door.

Her next task was to send a text message to Micah. It said, "Next Tuesday." At that point she felt committed. There was an instant when she worried about what she would do if Micah had changed his mind about helping her.

That worry evaporated just minutes later when she received his reply. "Sacramento is nice at this time of year."

Over the weeks since she had rented the storage unit, she had made it more functional. She had snagged a clothes rack that someone else had abandoned. It now held the clothes she planned to take with her. She had a battery powered lantern hanging from a wire wrapped around a screw in the wall. She had even picked up an abandoned chair. In addition to her clothes, there were two small boxes of photos and keepsakes. Her goal for Saturday was to pack the duffel and backpack and then pack everything else she had into boxes. It was a little sad when she thought about all the clothes she would be leaving behind. She was glad she was going to have the opportunity to ship her favorites to Micah's place in Florida. She worked in the storage unit for an hour trying to get everything into the two boxes she purchased on the way in. When she convinced herself it couldn't be done, she went back to the counter and purchased another box. She returned to her locker and finished packing. When she finished she had three boxes ready to ship. She stopped at the office and paid for her storage unit and mailbox through the end of the year. She left with the same book bag she had carried in. This time, the bulk of the bag was provided by a partially inflated pool toy and her new cell phone.

Sunday, Bart planted himself in front of the TV and started watching football when the first game kicked off. Callie had several things to do before leaving so she told Bart that she was going for a walk. She took a meandering route that led her eventually to a shopping area. All along the way, she was on the lookout for a tail. After about fifteen minutes she spotted the first one. The woman followed her until she went into a bookstore. Callie bought a word puzzle book and a paperback and continued her walk. She walked until she spotted the next tail, a man. After that, she made several stops. She stopped for an ice cream cone. She bought new sunglasses and a new reversible bag that looked like a beach bag. She stopped at another store and bought some granola bars and cheese crackers. At another store she bought a water bottle. She would definitely need to be careful to watch for tails on Monday and Tuesday.

When she got back to the apartment, Bart was still watching football. He never acknowledged her presence when she walked past him. She went to their bedroom and emptied the contents of her new bag into the drawer of her night stand. She walked to her closet, pulled something from a shelf and dropped it into the bag. She walked past him again without a word and closed the door behind her. This time when she left, she rode down to the lobby but instead of leaving the building, she stepped into the hair salon that she had never visited before.

"Hello," the young stylist said, "may I help you?"

Callie said, "Hi, can I get a haircut this afternoon?"

"Sure, follow me." The stylist walked toward a chair in the front of the shop by the window overlooking the street."

Callie didn't follow. "Can you cut it over there?" She pointed to a chair that was not in a line of sight of the door to the lobby or the window.

The stylist stopped. "I suppose so. Most of our customers prefer being able to look out the window while I'm working."

"Well, I want this to be a surprise for my husband and I don't want him to see it before you finish."

"What do you have in mind today?"

"I want it to be short and very low maintenance. I'm getting ready to go to Belize on Tuesday and I want to be able to wash it, dry it with a towel and be ready to go."

The stylist looked to a stack of magazines and pulled one of them out and looked at it. "Why don't you take a look at this and see if any of these styles are what you want?"

Callie took the offered magazine and began to thumb through the pages.

After a few minutes, she said, "This will work." She pointed to one of the pictures. "Can you do that?"

"Absolutely. It will look great on you."

The stylist began to cut her hair and Callie tried to not think about it. Her beautiful shoulder length brown hair was piling up on the floor around the chair. Twenty minutes later, the stylist said, "There, all done." She turned the chair around and Callie saw her new hair do in the mirror.

"What do you think?" the stylist asked expectantly.

Callie shook her head back and forth, ran her fingers through her hair and looked at her reflection from all angles. She smiled and said, "This is great. It is exactly what I wanted." She paid for the haircut and added a healthy tip. The young woman handed her a business card. "I would love to have your business."

"Thanks. How often do I need to come in to keep it looking basically like this?"

"I would recommend at least every four weeks."

"Okay. I don't have my calendar with me. I'll call you this week and set up another appointment."

"That would be great. Have a nice evening."

Callie walked out of the shop and straight to the ladies restroom in the lobby. She slipped on the collar length wig that she had bought one time after a bad haircut. She then returned to their apartment.

She was walking past Bart when he asked, "What happened to your hair?"

"I decided to get the ends trimmed."

"You sure did that."

"Do you like it?"

"Uh, sure." He hesitated. "Yeah, I like it."

"No you don't. You're just saying that. I walked out of here a while ago and you didn't say a word. I got my haircut to a style I love and now you ask me what happened to my hair. Don't even bother talking to me."

She stormed into their bedroom, slammed and locked the door behind her. She went to the nightstand and pulled out her puzzle book. She smiled as she began to work the first puzzle. She wondered if he would make any attempt to reconcile the current situation, but after thirty minutes, she began to realize he wasn't even going to try. The phone rang and a little later she heard the front door open and close.

A half hour after he left, she ventured out of the bedroom and found a note on the front door. "It's probably going to be a late night." She took advantage of her opportunity. She went into the second bathroom and booked a ticket on Amtrak to Sacramento, departing at 9:55 on Tuesday morning. She charged it to her credit card. The name on the credit card was Callie Simon.

She didn't know whether Bart got home Sunday night or Monday morning, but he was still asleep in the guest bedroom when she left the next morning for work. Her tail reported that she went straight to the office. While she was on the G train, she sent a text message to Micah. Her one line message: "The California Zephyr looks like a good ride."

Chapter 12

At ten o'clock on Monday morning, Bart woke up and started getting ready for his trip to Denver. His tail stayed with him until he boarded his flight at 2 pm. Another agent was waiting for him when he got off the plane in Denver.

At lunch, Callie checked her new cell phone for a text message. There were two messages. The first one was shipping instructions for her clothes. The second said, "Have you ever been to Denver?" She checked the Amtrak schedule and saw that the train would get to Denver 49 hours after leaving Penn Station. She deleted her browsing history after she checked sg336915@emailme.com one last time. Toward mid-afternoon, she told Paula she was going to leave a little early to run some errands. She smiled to herself when she thought about how mad Bart was going to get when he found out what she was about to do. She pulled her wallet from the old purse that was mostly empty and dropped it into her shopping bag. She left the purse on her desk next to the partition wall she shared with Paula. When she left the office, she was carrying the $500 Bart insisted she keep hidden in her purse. She also had the other $500 he wanted her to keep at work. Normally she left through a side door, but today she walked out the front door. Her FBI tail missed seeing her leave the building. She walked into First Brooklyn Savings a few minutes later and withdrew $130,000 of the $133,659.54 balance of their savings account. First the teller and later the branch manager tried to persuade her to take a cashier's check but she insisted on cash. She told them she wanted thirteen straps of $100s. She asked them to put it in a plastic shopping bag. She dropped that bag into what amounted to a cloth shopping bag. A few minutes later, she stopped at the Metropolitan Trust and Bank and withdrew $8000 of their $9400.56 checking account balance. Again, she couldn't be persuaded to accept anything other than cash. She wanted four straps of $20s. With the cash in her shopping bag, she left and walked to another branch of the same bank. There, she closed her personal account and took the $626.75 in cash.

At 4:15, Agent Maddox received the first of two calls from banks. The three banks where the Kramers had accounts were on alert for unusual activity. Agent Maddox called Agent Waters. "Sam, Callie Kramer made a substantial withdrawal from their joint checking account and one of their savings accounts this afternoon. She also closed out her personal account. I'm guessing she doesn't know about the other account. She may be about to make a run for it. I guess we should call and tell Bob it's not necessary for him to wait for her at five. Tell the agents in Denver to keep close tabs on Bart. We'll keep an eye on her at this end."

Callie made one last stop at the grocery store before going home. She picked up her dinner and a box of hair color. When she got home, she pulled off her wig. Bart had written the telephone number for his hotel in Denver on the dry erase board in the kitchen, as usual. She decided to wait to give him time to check in and go out to dinner, then she would call. She still had several things to do before tomorrow so she quickly went to work. She went back to the second bathroom and called the travel agency they always used and booked a flight to Belize, departing JFK at 8:30 Tuesday evening. It was pricey, but that was no problem. She charged it to their joint credit card.

With that out of the way, she went to the kitchen and heated up dinner. She ate the lasagna and watched TV for a few minutes. All the while she watched TV, she went over the preparations she had made and hoped she had thought of everything. For weeks, she had scoured every room of the apartment, looking for anything that could link her to Tennessee. She was certain every link to her past had been removed but she still spent several minutes going through each room, one last time. It was during this sweep that she remembered she hadn't checked their basement storage room. She got the key and started downstairs. She was about to pull the door closed when she remembered her hair. She stepped back inside and pulled the wig on. With her new, short haircut concealed, she rode the elevator down to the basement storage area.

The room was not very big, maybe 6 x 10. They had installed shelving units when they moved in to maximize the space. Mostly it was Bart's junk, like golf clubs and other sports equipment. There was some camping equipment he had not used since they had been married. Most everything was covered with a fine coating of dust, except for his golf clubs and the ice chest. On the top shelf, she saw a shoe box size plastic box, labeled pictures. When she pulled it down, she noticed it wasn't dusty either. She sat down on the ice chest and opened the picture box to find a few pictures from way before they met, but the most interesting thing in the box was five sets of two diskettes, labeled like the ones she found in her suitcase, after the reunion. CMA1 A&B, CMA2 A&B, CMA3 A&B, CMA4 A&B, CMA5 A&B. The last date on CMA5-A was 9-7, CMA4-A was dated 8-31, CMA3-A was dated 8-24, CMA2-A was dated 8-17, CMA1-A was dated 8-10. CMA6-A would have most likely been dated, for 9-14, but it was not there.

Obviously Bart felt these diskettes were valuable, so naturally, she did too. She took them upstairs. She went to the broom closet for the vacuum cleaner and took it to the office. She smiled and said, "Bart won't even recognize the place without all the dust on the base boards and the dust bunnies under the computer table." She turned the vacuum cleaner on and started making copies of the diskettes. She put her copies with the small pile of other last minute items to take that were stacked on the kitchen counter. She returned to the office and turned off the vacuum. "Much better. I should have done this, weeks ago." She took the original diskettes back downstairs and put them back in the box and replaced it on the shelf. Some day it might be handy to have what ever it was that Bart thought he should be hiding. She turned off the light and locked the door.

When she got back up to their apartment, it was time to make her call. She dialed the number, ever the submissive wife. It eventually went to voice mail like they almost always did. "Everything is great at the Kramer house in the Big Apple." She hung up. "Won't he be surprised?" she said to the empty room and laughed.

With the call to Bart out of the way, she sat down for a few minutes in her favorite chair to think about all that she had done today and anything she still needed to do before leaving. Monday had been busy. She retrieved the money she had hidden at work. She made the bank withdrawals. She bought the hair color. When she got home she retrieved the hidden money under the hamper. She copied Bart's backup disks and left a message for him at his hotel. She booked the decoy flight. All that was left for tonight was to color her hair and write two letters.

Coloring her hair came next. She went to the bathroom and returned to the kitchen with an old bath towel. She opened the hair color box and read the directions. Less than an hour later, she towel dried her hair and walked to the living room to check out the new look in the mirror. Her new auburn hair looked much better than the carrot red color from her high school days. She noticed a little of the hair color on the towel, so she threw it in the trash.

The last two items on her list was the letter to her boss, Mr. Summers and one to Bart. The first one was easy.

Dear Mr. Summers,

For quite some time my marital situation has been deteriorating. It has recently become intolerable. I have left my husband this morning out of concern for my personal safety. I regret that I couldn't give you more adequate notice. I hope that you can understand.  
Callie Kramer

She folded the letter, placed it in an envelope and addressed it to him at Peabody Strauss.

The note to Bart would be a more difficult chore. Thirty minutes later, she put it in an envelope and printed an address label on the computer so that she wouldn't have to address it by hand. She sort of hoped he wouldn't open it right away.

Tuesday morning, Callie woke up early. The first thing she did was to disable her old cell phone. She walked to the kitchen, wrapped the phone in a towel, pulled a hammer from the junk drawer and unceremoniously smashed it. When she was convinced the phone was destroyed, she dumped it into the trash. With that chore out of the way she took a shower and dressed as if she were going to work. She straightened up the apartment and made her bed as usual. She knew it was going to be a long two days until Micah could pick her up in Denver. She made sure she had snacks packed and her phone charger for the new phone where she could get to it.

After watching someone follow Bart's car last Thursday night, she was pretty certain someone was at least interested in Bart's comings and goings. If it was the Feds, they might be watching her too. She had a feeling they didn't believe her when she told them she didn't know anything about Bart's work. A few minutes before her regular time to leave for work, she walked to the front window and looked out on the street below to look for obvious tails. She didn't see anything, but she knew her experience at spotting them was limited. She was acutely aware of the 140,000 plus dollars in cash in her purse and shopping bag. A few minutes later, she walked out of the apartment for the last time. She dropped a trash bag into the trash chute and took the elevator to the lobby. She waved to the building manager as she came out of the elevator. Instead of going to the front door, she went the other way and exited the building down a set of stairs to the alley. She was very conscious of not appearing nervous. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder for a tail.

It was a beautiful fall morning in New York as she emerged from the alley. She walked to Self Service Storage to check her mail, just as she did two or three days a week. To anyone watching, it looked like a normal Tuesday morning. After checking her mail, she stopped at the office to borrow a cart. She pushed the cart to her unit, unlocked the door, pushed the cart into the unit and closed the door behind her. The three boxes stood ready and waiting. She loaded the boxes and pushed the cart to the shipping counter. She filled out the shipping labels as the attendant weighed each of the boxes. She was in no great hurry, so she selected the most economical ground shipping option United Shippers offered. The clerk assured her it would go out this afternoon. She returned to her unit and changed clothes into the only clothes still hanging on the rack, a pair of well worn blue jeans and a three quarter length sleeve tee shirt. She had never worn the outfit before this morning. When she bought it, she thought the logo on the tee shirt would be more appropriate for a much younger woman. She had two more similar outfits packed in the top of the pack.

She folded her business clothes and opened the top of the back pack. She pulled her old wallet from a pocket of the backpack and counted the money she had set aside. It was not a good idea to carry as much cash as she was carrying, but in this case, she had no choice. She was not, however, going to put it all in the top of the pack. She pulled everything out and carefully placed all seventeen tight bundles of cash in the bottom of the pack. She knew it would be at least two days until Micah would pick her up in Denver. She had to pack so that she would not need to dig to the bottom of the pack while she was on the train or at a station. Immediately on top of the cash, she packed the clothes she wore out of the house this morning. Next came two pairs of blue jeans and four tee shirts. She put five sets of underwear and socks next. Then she packed her windbreaker. On top of the windbreaker she packed two sets of socks and underwear, two more tee shirts, two more pairs of jeans, a sweatshirt and a hoodie. At the last minute she decided to wear the hoodie. She was able to cram her shoes into a side pocket. She was almost ready to walk out of the storage unit when she noticed her wedding rings. She took them off and put them in a small, flat plastic box with her toiletries. She pulled off her wig and ran her fingers through her hair to give it a little life. She stuffed the wig into a pocket in the flap of the duffel. When she picked up the fully loaded pack and duffel for the first time, she was surprised they weren't heavier. She put her arms through the shoulder straps of the backpack, fastened the hip belt and adjusted it to her liking. She opened the door and stepped out of the storage unit as a red head. She relocked the door, walked out a side door of Self Service Storage and turned in the direction of the nearest subway stop.

At eight o'clock, Paula stood up and looked over the partition into Callie's cubicle but it was empty. Callie was never late for work. Paula hoped nothing was wrong. As she looked into the cubicle, something was different, but she wasn't sure what. She saw Callie's purse. It wasn't where she usually kept it, but she thought, "Oh good, she's around here somewhere."

A prominent photo of Callie and Bart, taken at last year's Christmas party was not on her desk. She had shredded the photo and thrown away the frame on her way out of the office on Monday afternoon. Paula, Callie and Dan, one of the brokers, had a meeting with a customer scheduled at an office on Warren between Broadway and Church on Tuesday at 9 am. Paula and Callie were supposed to meet Dan at the meeting. Paula called Callie's cell phone at 8:15 and didn't get an answer. At 8:30, she gathered the materials for the presentation and headed to the meeting without her. It was a nice morning so she decided to walk. She left a note on Callie's desk.

Callie

I had to leave without you. Come on as soon as you can.

Paula

At eight o'clock, Trent Maddox called the Team Leader for Team C. "Jim, what's going on with Mrs. Kramer this morning?"

"About that, we had a little problem this morning."

"What do you mean, a little problem?"

"Travis Knight was scheduled for this morning and he got a call from HR, get this, at six thirty this morning and he was directed to attend Sensitivity Training this morning at 7:30. He was already in position. He called me. I tried to call them, but didn't get an answer. I called your boss. He said the training was mandatory. I didn't have anyone else to put on it with such short notice."

"Will someone be available this afternoon to pick up the surveillance after she gets off work?"

"Yes. Absolutely. Someone else was already assigned to this afternoon."

"It probably doesn't matter anyway. We got a hit on their credit card last night. She booked a ticket for Belize for tonight at 8:30 out of Newark."

"Nice. One ticket or two?"

"One."

"Who is going to get that duty?"

"I don't know. I've never been to Belize. Maybe I'll take it. More likely, we'll pick her up at the airport."

Two blocks from her storage unit, Callie wasn't struggling with the bags yet, but they were heavier than she was comfortable carrying. She decided it wasn't wise to strain her back and deal with back pain on a train for the next two days. Her plan had been to walk from the storage unit to the subway stop and ride it to Penn Station. She changed her mind and decided to splurge for a cab so she flagged one down. She shrugged out of the pack, tossed it and the duffel into the back seat and slid in beside them.

"Penn Station," she said.

"You know, luggage carts work with backpacks and duffels."

"Thanks. I know. I need to get one."

"As it happens, someone left one in the cab a few days ago. For twenty bucks, it's yours."

"You've got a deal."

At Penn Station, the cab driver got out and produced a luggage cart from the trunk. She got out and dragged the backpack and duffel behind her. While she pulled out her wallet, the driver strapped the wheels to the duffel. "Thanks," she said, and handed him the fare plus two twenties. "Will this cover you?"

"Absolutely. It's a pleasure doing business with you."

She walked into Penn Station, pulling her bag behind her. She found a mailbox and dropped off the letters. She was now past her point of no return. She picked up her ticket and went to find her train.

It was about 8:40 when she settled into her seat and began to study her ticket. It was going to be a long trip of two long days. The first leg of the journey to DC would take about three and a half hours on the Northeast Regional. A three hour layover in DC would give her time to stretch her legs and get a late lunch. The DC to Chicago leg of the trip on the Capitol Limited would be almost 17 hours, leaving DC at 4:05 pm and arriving the next morning at 8:45. She would have time in Chicago to do a little sight seeing. The California Zephyr was scheduled to leave Chicago at 2 pm on Wednesday. She was ticketed to Sacramento, but Micah planned to be in Denver to pick her up on Thursday morning at 7:15.

8:46 EDT

American Airlines Flight 11 crashed into 1 World Trade Center

8:55 EDT (6:55 local time Denver)

In Denver, Bart finished eating breakfast in the hotel restaurant. He was reading the newspaper and drinking a cup of coffee when he heard the first murmur about an airplane crashing into the World Trade Center. His first appointment was at ten o'clock, so he hurried back to his room to see if there was anything on the news yet. The first speculations were that it was an accident. It was probably a small plane. There might be a fire, but he wasn't worried. He called Callie's cell phone and didn't get an answer. He still wasn't worried. He knew she kept the phone in her purse and it was probably locked in her desk drawer and she might not hear it. A few minutes later, he called her office phone and didn't get an answer either. He changed to a different channel. Then he, like everyone else, saw the first reports of the fire in the North Tower.

When the plane flew into the South Tower, Bart called and canceled his morning meeting. He was scheduled to meet with the client and they were to begin discussing some complicated financial transactions and management strategies. Wednesday and Thursday, they planned to work on the client's tax strategy.

He dialed the main number for Peabody Strauss and didn't get an answer. He began to have concerns. He called the manager at their apartment building, but didn't get an answer. "Is anyone answering their phones today?" He looked at his cell phone in disgust.

8:55 EDT

As Paula got closer to her meeting, she heard the first sirens. Sirens weren't that uncommon on a workday morning in Manhattan. When she saw the convoy of fire trucks and emergency vehicles heading south toward lower Manhattan, she began to have concerns. When she got to her meeting and was told what had happened, at first, she took it in stride. The first reports were that a plane had hit the building. Light planes had hit buildings before. It was no big deal for a building like the World Trade Center, but it was too bad for the pilot, passengers and anyone near the impact point. The Twin Towers were strong and solid.

9:03 EDT

United Airlines Flight 175 cashed into 2 World Trade Center

When the image of the airliner crashing into the South Tower came across the TV, Paula lost all color in her face and someone suggested she sit down. One airplane crashing into a building might be an accident, but two sounded like an attack. She tried to call the office several times, but couldn't get an answer. They continued to watch on TV as emergency responders converged on the scene. Their meeting agenda was forgotten.

9:17 EDT

An announcement over the train's public address system sent cold chills up and down her spine. "All Amtrak service has been temporarily discontinued, indefinitely." Callie got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. What have I gotten myself into?

Callie and her fellow passengers were at first confused by the announcement. As reality set in, there was a wide range of emotions. Amtrak personnel advised the passengers to get off the train. It was announced that they could get refunds for their tickets.

Callie grabbed her pack and her bag and stepped off the train into an utterly chaotic Penn Station. She sent a text to Micah and turned on the phone's ringer.

Soon after the trains stopped, the airplanes and buses did too. New York mass transit was on lock down.

09:25 EDT (7:25 local time Sheridan, WY)

Micah's alarm had not yet sounded when he heard a chirp, indicating he had a text message on his new phone. He looked at the time on the clock radio and decided he might as well get up. It was already daylight in north central Wyoming. He picked up the cell phone from the night table beside his bed. Ever since Saturday, he had kept the phone with him at all times.

He read her message "Problem. We need to talk ASAP!! 911"

He had told her he would never call her on the new phone, but he was dialing her number fifteen seconds later.

"I'm so glad you called."

"Remember, no names."

"Okay. Something has happened here and they have shutdown all the trains. What am I going to do?"

"Where are you?"

"Penn Station."

"Are you safe?"

"Yes, for now."

"Good. Just a minute. I'll turn on the news." Micah picked up the remote control and turned on the TV. When the picture came on, it was the image of the Twin Towers on fire, and it wasn't even one of the all news channels.

"Oh, my god. Both of the towers of the World Trade Center are on fire. They are saying two airliners crashed into them."

"What am I going to do?"

"First, don't panic. We'll figure it out."

"We never thought about anything like this happening."

"Of course not, but don't worry. You'll be fine. Give me a second. We'll think of something."

As he tried to reassure her, his brain came up to speed and he began to formulate a new plan.

"Okay. Think about this. The train shutdown can't last forever. If they will let you, rebook your ticket for tomorrow. In case the cellular network gets flaky and we can't communicate by cell phone, go to a store and buy a prepaid phone card. That way if you can't get through on the cellular network you might be able to get through on the regular network. You can call me on this number and let me know when you can get another ticket. It will take a while, but I can come to New York to get you and I will if I need to. I think it would be a good idea for you to get a hotel room close to the train station so when the trains start running again you will be close."

"That's a good idea. It will also give me a place to rest and be safe."

"Okay, so check into a hotel. Get a phone card just in case, and call me back at noon, your time."

"Okay."

"Be careful, Sweet Girl."

Chapter 13

9:30 EDT

Callie walked out of Penn Station with no idea of where she was going or what she was going to do. Going back home was not an option. Micah was right. She needed to stay near the train station so she would be ready to go as soon as trains started running again. She wanted to believe the shutdown would last no longer than a day or two. If it lasted longer than that, she would have no choice but to go home and try to make it look like she had never left. The letter to her boss would have to be explained, but she could probably intercept Bart's letter.

She remembered the library was on 5th Avenue and figured it would be a good place to spend some time off the street, so she slowly started walking southeast on 33rd Street. When she looked up and saw the Hotel Pennsylvania sign, she decided to get a room. It might be expensive, but it was close to the Train Station. It was too early to get into the room, but she checked in and was able to store her duffel at the front desk. The clerk offered to store the backpack too, but she said she wanted to keep it with her, for obvious reasons. Later she realized it would have probably been safer in the hotel storage room than with her on the street.

9:38 EDT

American Airlines Flight 77 crashed into the Pentagon

For New Yorkers that morning, life was a totally surreal experience. It was like watching a big budget action movie, but it was their city and it wasn't fiction. There were no special effects. It was all real. It was all playing out on live television. Shortly after reports of the first jet crashing into the north tower, a few images of the actual crash began to surface. With the instant media coverage of the event, there were more images of the second crash. By the time the first of the towers crumbled to the ground, the world was watching on live TV.

9:45 EDT

With a place to spend the night no longer a concern, Callie sat in the hotel lobby for a few minutes before stepping back out on the street to continue her walk to the library. She knew it would be quiet in the library and she could pass the time until her room would be available at four o'clock. As she walked, she couldn't help looking over her shoulder toward the burning Twin Towers from time to time. As she walked, she heard and felt a rumble and turned to see a huge billowing cloud of dust and smoke. She got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, for the second time that day.

10:06 EDT

United Airlines Flight 93 crashed into a field near Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

If it hadn't been for the meeting, Paula would have been in the tower when it was hit and who knows what would have happened to her. She tried but couldn't reach anyone at the office. She struggled to convince herself that meant everyone made it out safely. She began to tremble and shake. They were only a few blocks from the Towers and began to have concerns about their own safety. The dust and smoke was already causing people, including her to cough. It was time to get out of lower Manhattan. She realized she would have to walk at least part of the way home so she walked out on the street and joined the throng of business refugees walking north toward safety and their homes and hopefully a place of normalcy. She had never considered walking home from work. She hoped she could get there before dark.

10:00 EDT

Agent Waters contacted Team B and Team C on the Kramer investigation. All New York assets were reassigned to the FBI Emergency Operations Team as of 10:00 EDT 9-11.

10:00 EDT (8:00 local time Denver)

Bart decided to call his office to find out what was going on.

"Fincher Fowler & Pratt, may I help you?" an unfamiliar voice answered.

"This is Bart Kramer. Can you tell me what is going on?"

"Bart, this is Emily Foster. It is crazy here. Almost everyone has gone home already. I'll be out of here soon. There are rumors you won't be able to get out of Manhattan if you wait much longer."

"My wife works in the North Tower. I've been trying to call her for almost an hour. I can't get anyone to answer."

"What floor is she on?"

"Seventy-three."

"They are saying the plane hit somewhere between 93 and 96. She is probably trying to get out of the building along with everybody else."

"Why doesn't she call?"

"Are you kidding? The cellular system is probably jammed. One of the partners was in a meeting on the forty-third floor of the North Tower when it happened. His secretary was listening to the radio and as soon as she heard about it, she called him. It took him fifteen minutes to get out of the building."

"Bart are you watching on TV?"

"Yes. I don't seem to be able to turn away from it."

"I know, it's like that here too. Listen Bart, the partners met a few minutes ago. We are only ten blocks away. They have closed the office and sent everyone home. Like I said, the office is closed now and it will be closed tomorrow. On Thursday, anyone that can is to report to the records warehouse in East Orange. As I understand it, Mr. Pratt has a big garage at his house, near Parsippany, New Jersey, where he stores his car collection. Most likely everyone will be working there or at the warehouse until things clear up down here. It is going to be a mess for a few days."

"I wish I was there. Right now, I just need to hear Callie's voice and know she's alright."

"I know exactly what you mean. I talked to Jim a few minutes ago. Oh, my god! Bart, it's coming down." She watched as on TV as the tower came down. Then she noticed through the windows that it was getting dark outside. "Bart, are you there?"

Two thousand miles away, Bart saw the South Tower buckle and collapse. He said, "Emily, I've got to go."

He started gathering his clothes to pack his suitcase and then thought better of it. In that instant, everything became clear. Everything he really needed was in New York. The one person he needed, more than anyone or anything else was in New York and he didn't know if she was dead or alive. He had been a fool. He had neglected her and wasted all his time trying to make a living for them and now all that might be for nothing. Children, and his idea that he and Callie needed to be financially secure before having them had caused a rift in their marriage that he had to try to repair somehow, if it was possible. He forgot about his clothes. He rushed from his room, down the elevator and through the lobby. A taxi pulled up in front of the hotel. The passenger got out and Bart jumped in. "I need to get to the airport, like yesterday."

"Haven't you been watching the news?"

"Hasn't everyone?"

"I just came from the airport. It is going to be a zoo out there. I just heard that US airspace is being closed until they can figure this thing in New York out. All civilian airplanes have been ordered to land at the nearest airport. I can take you to the airport, but you are probably better off here."

Bart was suddenly depressed, frustrated, scared and utterly alone. When he saw the tower collapse, he had an initial rush of adrenaline and he raced downstairs to take action. When he found he couldn't fly back home today, his frustration overwhelmed him. He went back to his room and joined the rest of the country and the world, numbly watching the scene unfold in lower Manhattan, knowing his wife was in the middle of that chaos and he was not able to do anything to help her. When the North Tower collapsed, he initially froze in terror. He sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. As the morning dragged on he reached deep within himself to find the courage to believe Callie was still alive. Until she was no longer missing, he would assume she was missing and he would hope for the best. He called home that afternoon and got the answering machine, countless times. He quit leaving messages after his fourth call.

10:30 EDT (8:30 local time Sheridan, WY)

Before Micah got Callie's text message on Saturday, he had scheduled to wrap up his work on Tuesday and have an exit conference on Wednesday. He planned to head back home on Thursday since he didn't have any jobs booked for a couple weeks. Callie's message changed all that. He worked the rest of the day Saturday and Sunday to be able to finish and have his exit conference on Monday. Monday didn't go as he hoped. He finished writing his report by mid morning, but the man he needed to meet with to wrap things up was away from the plant until Tuesday morning. He had no choice but to wait. Monday evening, he packed the RV and made it ready to roll. As soon as his meeting at 8:30 on Tuesday concluded, he planned to hit the road for Denver. It was a little under 425 miles from where he was parked in Sheridan, WY, to the train station in Denver. He made a reservation at an RV park in Denver for Tuesday and Wednesday nights. After that, he would play it by ear.

Before Micah's meeting could get started on Tuesday morning, news of the attack was all that was being talked about in Wyoming. Micah was known for being straight to the point and concise but this project completion meeting was probably his shortest ever. He outlined the conditions he found when he arrived, the changes he recommended, the ones they agreed to implement and the results so far. He reminded them it was all in his report. At 9:15 he left the plant in a visible hurry.

12:00 EDT (10:00 local time Sheridan, WY)

Micah sent a text. "A cat, pursuing a mouse, chases it into traffic. The cat believes, in error, that the mouse had been struck and killed by a vehicle. Is not the live mouse as safe as if it had run to its refuge, even if it is actually within site of the cat, behind a tree laughing. Call for details."

12:15 EDT

Callie selected the LP contact on her phone. In a few seconds Micah answered his phone. "Hello, Sweet Girl."

"Hello, Loyal Prince. I get it. I'll stay put for now. I've got my calling card if I need it."

"Good. What about your ticket?"

"They wouldn't let me rebook."

"If you can find a computer, you might be able to book on line. If not, I guess the best thing to do would be to watch the news and wait for an announcement that trains are operating again."

"Good idea. I'm at the library, I'll give it a try."

"Good. You may want to lay low. We wouldn't anyone to see our hidden mouse."

"Maybe so, but I don't really look like myself."

"What?"

"You'll have to wait to see for yourself."

Micah was puzzled by her remark but let it pass. "How about sending a text on the even hours to let me know you are okay?"

"I can do that."

"Okay. Hold tight and be careful."

"I will."

13:00 EDT

Peabody Strauss was one of the first firms to provide Emergency Management Authorities in New York with an employee roster for their New York operations. The Nashville Division office took the lead and coordinated the other division HR staffs in attempting to contact their New York employees. By the end of the day, all but eighteen of their employees had been located and contacted. Callie Kramer was one of the eighteen.

13:00 EDT (11:00 local time)

By the time Micah drove from the plant to Sheridan and finished getting everything ready to go, it was eleven o'clock. Before closing things up completely, he looked up the schedules for the Capitol Limited and California Zephyr and printed them. He ate lunch and studied the train schedules for several minutes. When he and Callie talked about this trip, he didn't realize how much time he would spend worrying about her from the time she left New York City until he picked her up. The pickup had always been one of his concerns. Fortunately, it worked out that a job was ending when she decided to make her exit. He looked at his watch. According to the plan, she should be rolling into Washington DC, in half an hour, three hours after her departure on the Capitol Limited. Unfortunately, she was still in Manhattan. In the wake of the attack, Callie's status had changed slightly. With Bart in Denver and unable to fly, it really didn't matter whether Callie was missing in the rubble of a collapsed office building or just missing and hiding out. Micah was pretty sure it wouldn't make any difference for a day or so. She would almost certainly be assumed dead when she didn't make it home tonight.

14:00 EDT (noon local time Denver)

Bart's frustration level ebbed and flowed all day Tuesday. At one point he got the idea to rent a car and drive back to Brooklyn. He called his travel agent and told her he wanted to rent a car. After he waited on hold for at least ten minutes, she returned to the phone. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kramer. I've checked with every company that serves Denver. There is not a car to be had. They are telling me that within forty-five minutes of the planes being grounded, all the cars in Denver were rented."

"I guess I'm stuck in Denver."

"I see that you are scheduled to return to JFK on Friday, departing Denver at 5:48. I can tell you now, planes won't be flying on Friday. I know you don't want to hear it, but no one knows when you will be able to fly again. Everyone hopes it won't be more than a couple days. With that said, I've got several customers that are stuck, just like you. A few of them have called me. I'll tell you what I'm telling them. If you want me to, as soon as I get the word that planes are going to start flying, I'll book you on the first seat that I can find for you and call you to let you know when and where to go."

"That sounds great. Thanks, I appreciate all you're doing."

After the idea to rent a car got shot down, he returned to the TV. The news media began to interview relatives of the missing. He had to change to another channel. He was one of them and he needed to be at home. At one point in the afternoon, he looked out his window and saw a U-Haul truck and briefly thought about trying to rent one of them. That idea lost its luster when he looked up the distance from Denver to Brooklyn. Nearly eighteen hundred miles in a moving van in his current state of mind was not a good idea. Even he knew that. He thought about buses and trains too, but only briefly.

In the end, he settled in for a long wait. He was faced with time to think. It had been so long since he had taken the time to stop and think about what he was doing. I've been a lousy husband and a terrible neighbor. I don't even know any of my neighbors. If I did, I could call one of them and ask them to check on Callie. I'll change that when I get back home. And Callie, how can I ever make it up to her? And then there is work. How am I going to get out of that without going to jail?

14:00 EDT (noon local time somewhere between Sheridan WY and Buffalo WY)

A text message came in from Callie. "2 pm nothing new."

He replied. "Msg Received"

According to their original plan, Micah was to pick up Callie in Denver on Thursday morning. At this point, the best they could hope for, if trains began running on Wednesday, was for her to get to Denver on Friday morning. That meant he needed to change his reservation to stay another night in Denver. He realized at his current pace he would arrive in Denver before 10 pm on Tuesday evening. He asked himself, "What am I going to do in Denver for two days?" He pulled off the Interstate at the next exit. He opened his road atlas and the train schedule. From NYC to Chicago on Amtrak took almost 24 hours. The earliest Callie could get out of Manhattan would be Wednesday morning. That would put her into Chicago on Thursday morning. When he looked at his road atlas, he found that it was about 1150 miles to Chicago from Sheridan. It would take about seventeen hours to drive it. It was almost 30 hours until 8:45 on Thursday. He called and canceled his reservation in Denver.

He got back on the interstate and continued south toward Cheyenne. When he got to Buffalo, instead of exiting to I-25 to Cheyenne and Denver, he continued on I-90. He wouldn't be as bored driving as he would be sitting around waiting for a Friday morning arriving train in Denver. Since they were going to Florida, they would be several hundred miles closer in Chicago than in Denver. Also, if the trains continued to be shut down, he would be that much closer to make a run to New York City if it became necessary. It was an easy decision.

16:00 EDT

Callie was finally able to get into her room and relax, sort of. She put the cash in the room safe and felt a little better. She sent Micah her four o'clock text. "Checked in. Nothing new to report."

He replied. "Msg Received. Call me."

In a few minutes, his phone rang. "Hello, Sweet Girl."

"Hello, Loyal Prince. What's up?"

"When you re-ticket, just go to Chicago."

"What?"

"I have to wait somewhere. I would rather spend my time driving instead of cooling my heels for two days in a campground in Denver."

"It sounds great to me. Thank you, so much, for everything."

"We better go now."

"Okay, bye."

"Bye."

17:00 EDT (3:00 local time Denver)

Bart finally got a call through to their apartment building manager, just before five o'clock in New York. She agreed to go upstairs and check the apartment. Bart said he would call back in fifteen minutes.

In fifteen minutes, the manager answered the phone. "Jayne Johnson."

"This is Bart Kramer. What did you find?"

"Nothing, really. Your apartment is really clean. It doesn't look like anybody has been there all day."

"Oh," he sighed, "I'm in Denver and I haven't been able to get in touch with Callie."

"I saw her this morning. I assume she was heading to work."

Bart felt a glimmer of hope. "Are you friends with her?"

"I wouldn't say we're friends. We speak occasionally and call each other by our first names."

"Ms. Johnson, I apologize."

"For what?"

"I should have been much more friendly and respectful with you in our dealings in the past."

"Thank you Mr. Kramer. I guess today has caused us all to rethink what is important."

"Please, call me Bart."

"Okay Bart, call me Jayne."

"Jayne, is your family safe?"

"Yes, we are. Thank you for asking."

"I'll let you go now. Thanks again. If you see her, please ask her to call me."

"I'm sure she'll call as soon as she can."

"I hope so. Bye."

"Good bye." At the time, she thought his response was unusual, but didn't think about it any more.

17:30 EDT (3:30 local time Denver, CO)

Bart's cell phone rang. "Bart Kramer."

The person on the other end of the call introduced himself as being with Peabody Strauss HR in Seattle. "Mr. Kramer, I am attempting to locate Callie Kramer. We are trying to make contact with all Peabody Strauss employees from the NY office."

"I am too. I mean I've been trying to contact my wife. My last communication with her was a voice mail message she left last night."

"Like I said, we are attempting to locate all our New York employees. If you speak with her, please contact us at 800-555-1492. Mr. Kramer, we only have two contact numbers for your wife. We have your cell number and your home number."

"She has a cell phone too." Bart gave him Callie's cell number. Apparently she had not updated her contact data when she got the cell phone.

18:00 EDT

Callie was eating dinner when she saw the announcement on TV that Amtrak was resuming operations. She walked to Penn Station and bought a ticket to Chicago departing at 8:55 on Wednesday morning. She paid for this ticket with cash. She composed the six o'clock text message. "Trains running again. All set for tomorrow."

Micah replied, "Great"

20:00 EDT

Callie's eight o'clock text said, "Nothing new. Good night."

Micah replied, "Sweet Dreams."

21:00 EDT (8:00 local time Mitchell, SD)

Micah was tired but keyed up when he pulled into the RV campground in Mitchell, SD. He wasn't quite half way to Chicago but there was a good place to stop in Mitchell. There was no need to be in a hurry. Callie wouldn't even leave Manhattan until morning. He parked the camper, made dinner and settled in for the night.

22:00 EDT (8:00 local time Denver)

By eight o'clock, Bart began to come to terms with the high probability that Callie was hurt, or worse. The facts were that she had been seen leaving the apartment on Tuesday morning and she had not called Bart this evening. She had only missed calling once or twice since he had begun to insist on it. Surely with everything in turmoil in New York, she would have called if she was able. He had never had this thought before tonight, but he actually hoped Callie was in a hospital and unable to call. At this point he refused to speculate on the possibility that she might have died today.

He went to the hotel bar with the idea of escaping from reality for a few hours but when he got there a TV was on and it was tuned to the news. After a few minutes he went back up to his room and called Jayne Johnson again. She hadn't heard anything but promised to call if she did.

Chapter 14

06:00 EDT September 12, 2001

Callie woke up easily when the alarm buzzed on Wednesday morning. She showered and dressed as she did on Tuesday. She hadn't figured on being able to have clean clothes on Wednesday so she put on a clean outfit just because she could. On the way back to the hotel from the library on Tuesday afternoon, she stopped at a fabric store and purchased a piece of cloth that closely matched the inside of her backpack. As she sat watching TV on Tuesday evening, she created a false bottom for the backpack. With the money more concealed, she felt a little better about it on Wednesday morning. She repacked the clothes in her backpack and checked out of the hotel two hours before her scheduled departure time in case there was a lot of confusion at the train station. She didn't want to take a chance on being late.

When she got to Penn Station, she was glad she was early. Security was much more evident than on Tuesday morning. The line at the ticket window was long. Her decision to purchase her ticket Monday night was the right one. She located the track for the Northeast Regional and waited to board.

She had not been on many trains, and she had never been on one with every seat filled. The passengers were told the train even had extra cars to accommodate more riders during the crisis. As the train pulled out of the station, she sent a one word text to Micah. "Rolling"

9:30 EDT (7:30 local time Denver, CO)

Bart's cell phone rang while he was eating breakfast. "Bart Kramer."

"Hello Bart, this is Jim Lewis. How are you holding up?" Jim headed up HR functions, security and travel at Fincher Fowler & Pratt.

"I'm alright, considering."

"That's why I'm calling. Is there anything the firm can do for you? This morning I talked to Emily. She said she talked to you yesterday morning and at that time you hadn't been able to locate your wife."

"That's right. I still haven't"

"I can make some calls and see what I can find out."

"I would appreciate that."

"Who does she work for?"

"Peabody Strauss."

"I'll first check with the Emergency Management folks to see if she has been located. They will be able to tell us what hospital she is in, if that is the case."

"I appreciate that."

"Don't think anything of it. Now, considering everything that has happened, I think it would be best for you to come on back home and schedule another trip to Denver when all this is settled. If I was in your place I don't think my mind would be on business."

"You're probably right."

"I've had some people looking into options for getting our people back home. There are three of you guys out this week. Amtrak seems to be our best option. Rumors are that it might be sometime next week before the airlines get back on schedule."

"I'm sure there is going to be some kind of backlog, once they do."

"Isn't that the truth? In your case we've found you can catch the California Zephyr at 7:10 tonight and get to Chicago at 2:50 tomorrow afternoon. You can then take the Lake Shore Limited at 9:30 pm and be back to New York at 6:23 on Friday. It's a lot of hours on a train but it will get you back before you were originally scheduled to get back. We can get you sleeping accommodations. If you want to go this route, I suggest you go to a store and buy a few books, magazines and a radio with headphones. You can listen to music or the news or read to help pass the time. Think about it and let me know as soon as you can. If you want to do it, we'll need to book your tickets before the trains fill up."

Bart didn't have to think about it at all. Getting home was exactly what he wanted, and the sooner the better. "Go ahead and book it for me. I'll do what I can here today, but I really need to be home."

9:40 EDT (8:40 local time Mitchell, SD)

Micah got up Wednesday morning and was glad he had driven far enough east on Tuesday to cross into the Central Time Zone. When he received Callie's message, it was 8:40 and he was washing his breakfast dishes. In a few minutes, he hit the road for Chicago.

13:00 EDT

At one o'clock when the train pulled into Union Station, there was a strange quietness about it. There was an obviously well armed police presence in the station. Passengers transferring to other trains were escorted to waiting areas and their tickets were closely scrutinized. She checked her duffel to Chicago and then went to get some lunch.

At roughly the same time, Micah exited I-90 at Albert Lea, Minnesota, to fill up the RV with fuel and eat lunch. While he waited for his food, he sent a quick text message to Callie. "Going well?"

Callie was also eating lunch when the text came in. She replied, "First leg completed. Patiently waiting to take the next step."

Micah smiled and typed, "Everything is well?"

"Yes." was the reply that came back.

Callie returned to the waiting area for the Capitol Limited. Her acute awareness of the amount of cash she carried in her backpack made her nervous. Her nervousness caused her to constantly scan the waiting area. Her constant scanning of the waiting area for threats, made her to appear suspicious herself. She noticed a police officer walking in her direction. The last thing she wanted was to be noticed by a police officer. She tried her best not to appear overly anxious. He walked right up to her and asked. "Excuse me. Is there something wrong? You seem to be pretty nervous."

She smiled. "Actually, I am sort of nervous. I'm on my way to Chicago and I'm carrying more cash than I'm used to carrying. I've got over $600 cash in my wallet. Every time I carry a lot of money, I get nervous."

He smiled. "Ma'am, I assure you that today you are absolutely safe from mugging in Union Station. There are too many police officers around. Try to relax. Have a nice day."

"Thank you, officer. I'll try not to be so nervous." She smiled again and he walked away.

She had receipts to explain the huge sum of cash she was carrying, but she didn't want to be remembered today, by anyone. It was bad enough to be nooticed as the nervous lady with $600. When the train began to board, Callie chose a seat and then sat on pins and needles waiting to see who would sit beside her. It was almost guaranteed that the seat would be taken. The car was almost full when four more people stepped through the door. There was a young couple that appeared to be traveling together, a man that honestly gave her the creeps and a woman who was obviously someone's elderly grandmother. As they walked down the aisle toward the rear of the car, Callie began to hope that Grandma, and not Creepy Guy would sit beside her, if either of them did.

Callie tried to make it appear that she was reading a book, but she was closely watching the situation. The young couple took seats several rows in front of her. That left Grandma and Creepy Guy. He passed her row and she began to breathe a little easier. Grandma was two rows past her when she said, "Oh, It looks like I've gone too far." She backed up to Callie's row, set her bag down and took the seat beside her. They exchanged nods of acknowledgment but nothing more. That suited Callie just fine.

Callie was never so relieved as when the Capitol Limited rolled out of Union Station. Her task now was to endure an almost 18 hour train ride and not be noticed. She decided to send a text message. She pulled the phone from her pocket. There was a message for her, from ten minutes earlier. "Waiting or rolling?"

She smiled. "Rolling" she typed and hit send. It might have been the first time she relaxed enough to really smile and mean it in days. There was someone in her life that cared enough to know her itinerary and care if she was on schedule.

She hoped the old woman sitting beside her would continue to keep to herself. Callie went back to reading her book. From the corner of her eye, she could see the woman fidgeting. She opened a cavernous purse and pulled out two Amtrak brochures. She unfolded the first one, looked at it for several minutes then refolded it and opened the other one. She looked at it, then folded it and dropped it back in the purse. She then proceeded to pull something from her purse that looked like some kind of antique camera. Callie had seen a camera like it once or twice when she was a kid, but she didn't know that anyone still took pictures with something like that. Her seat mate pressed a button on the box and then began to twist a knob. After a few seconds, she stopped turning the knob and opened the whole side of the camera. She removed a roll of film and put it into her purse. Then she dug around in her purse and produced another roll of film and reloaded the camera. When she finished, she looked up and caught Callie watching. She smiled and said, "I like to take pictures."

"That's nice," Callie said.

That was all it took. The woman launched into an hour long monologue. She said, "My name is Madge Turner. You can call me Grandma. Everyone does." She stopped, mid sentence and stared at Callie. Callie noticed her eyes almost went misty for a second. "You look a lot like one of my grand daughters except she has brown hair. I haven't seen her in a while."

She expected Grandma would wait for her to introduce herself, but she didn't. Callie wasn't disappointed. She wasn't interested in anyone remembering her on the train. Madge proceeded to tell her all about herself and her children and her grandchildren. She was a wealth of information regarding her family. She learned that Madge was 74 years old. She had been married for 51 years and she was traveling alone. She and her husband Ned had been visiting with their daughter and her husband in Gaithersburg, Maryland. She said she didn't like to ride with her husband so he drove and she took the train. After sitting beside Madge for a few minutes, Callie could understand if Ned drove badly on purpose, hoping she would not want to ride with him.

19:00 EDT (6:00 local time Chicago)

Micah pulled into a campground about an hour northwest of Downtown Chicago. He paid for one night and parked in his assigned spot. He unloaded his pickup from the trailer behind the RV and settled in for the night.

20:00 EDT

By 8 o'clock the Capitol Limited had rolled through two stretches of Maryland, across West Virginia and was in Pennsylvania heading to Pittsburgh. In the confines of the passenger rail car, steadily moving toward Chicago, a community of sorts developed. On a normal day, the train wouldn't be full and passengers could spread out and stay to themselves if they wanted, but there was nothing normal about this day. Everyone on the train knew the world had changed yesterday. Maybe that was why the passengers seemed to take more interest in each other. They had shared an experience, even if from a distance, that changed something in them. As they crossed West Virginia, the other passengers learned that Callie lived in New York. They learned that she had just boarded a train in Penn Station before Amtrak suspended operations and she had waited around all day to catch the train this morning. She became the local authority on all things New York. The other passengers were full of questions. When someone asked where she worked and they learned that she worked in the North Tower of the World Trade Center, there were actually some tears shed. They suddenly had a connection to the attack. Here was a woman who would have normally been at work on that Tuesday, riding to Chicago with them on a train. It got really quiet for a while after that. She didn't know what everyone else was thinking, but she began to worry. She didn't want to be remembered on this trip by anyone. Fortunately, no one had asked her name, yet. That could change at any moment. She began to think about what she would tell them. She finally decided that if she was asked, she would say her name was Kelly Simmons. She was on her way to visit friends in LA. She decided to say she lived in Queens if anyone asked.

21:00 EDT (7:00 local time Denver)

It was not reasonable to think a man should be expected to put his personal feelings aside and function as if nothing was wrong when the status of his wife was unknown and the building she worked in was now a pile of rubble. Bart met with the client and explained the situation. They talked about some of the issues he had come to discuss, but not nearly everything. He explained that he neede to get home as soon as possible to check on his wife and a follow up trip would be scheduled as soon as things settled down. The client seemed to accept it.

It was over thirty-six hours after the attack before he boarded the California Zephyr and settled in for the long ride to Chicago. Callie and Bart would have both been surprised to learn they were each on a train, at the same time, speeding through the night, anxious to get to Chicago as fast as they could.

Chapter 15

06:30 CDT Thursday September 13, 2001

Micah woke up and began to think about meeting Callie at the train station this morning. Every move they had made so far was calculated so as to not be noticed or remembered. As much as he wanted to greet her on the platform when she stepped off the train, he was afraid it could turn into something that a passerby might remember later. At this point, she needed to be invisible. He sent a text. "So that no one will remember you being met at the station, meet me at McDonald's in the station."

She was already awake when her phone vibrated. She had tried to nap during the night but had not been very successful. It had been two very stressful days. She replied, "See you there."

08:45 CDT

The Capitol Limited pulled into Union Station in Chicago, on time at 8:45. Callie claimed her bag and looked around the cavernous train station. There was no sign of Micah. That was no surprise. She located the golden arches and followed a group inside. In the back corner, she spotted him and two cups of coffee at a table.

He picked up his Chicago Tribune and was reading it when he saw the group come blowing into Mickie D's. They were young and loud. One girl ran past him to the restroom. Two of them picked on a third and two went to the counter to order. Another girl that was headed for the restroom stopped at the booth next to his and set her bag down. She turned her back to him and struggled out of her backpack. She slid it into the booth as well. He wasn't really interested in talking to anyone so he went back to his paper.

Instead of sitting in the booth, she turned around and thumped the backside of the newspaper he was reading and backed up two steps. "Hey, Dude. Why do you have two cups of coffee?"

He hadn't dealt with rude young people in a long time. They usually left him alone, especially if they ever saw him standing. He towered over most people. He wasn't interested in dealing with a derelict this morning. He figured if he stood up, she would probably scoot along on her way. He took a deep breath, slowly folded his newspaper without looking up and set it in the seat beside him. He slowly looked up. He had seen the girl from a distance but hadn't paid close attention. This time he did. He started at the ground. The shoes were okay. Her jeans were ripped in several places, but they were clean. Her belt was a chain. She wore a faded Hooters tee shirt that was too tight and a New York Jets hoodie that nearly swallowed her. Her dark red hair was cut short and it was spiked. She was wearing way too much makeup. She was chewing gum and wearing aviator sun glasses. She definitely would benefit from someone taking an interest in her, but it wasn't going to be him, not this morning.

"Excuse me?" He asked and began to stand.

The girl began to grin. It was not the reaction he expected. He was confused. She pulled her sunglasses down her nose and looked over the top of them and said, "I told you I didn't really look like myself."

There was that moment of instant recognition. He smiled, took two steps toward her, wrapped his arms around her and hugged her.

When he let her go, she said, "So, I take it that you do recognize me."

He smiled warmly. "I do now. Were you dressed like this when you left New York yesterday?"

"Not exactly."

"What do you mean, not exactly?"

"Well, I had the jeans on, but I had an Old Navy tee shirt on. The hoodie was stuffed into my backpack with the Hooters shirt in the pocket. About an hour out this morning, I went to the restroom and stepped up the look to what you see here. I added the chain, the heavy makeup and swapped shirts. I spiked my hair."

She slid into the booth. She smiled and pointed to the foam cup with a lid. "Is that mine?"

As he slid back into the booth, across from her, he said, "If you want it."

She peeled off the lid and took a drink of the steaming liquid. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and then opened them again. "This is good stuff."

"You really must be tired. I didn't think the coffee was that good this morning."

"You're right. I didn't know I could be so tired."

"I'm not surprised. You've been traveling for twenty-four hours and the twenty-four hours before that it had to be more stressful than I'll ever be able to imagine."

"I'm just glad to be sitting in a chair that doesn't feel like it's moving."

"Did you sleep much?"

"Not really. There was this grandma that sat beside me all the way from DC. When she sat down beside me I thought it was a good thing. I was wrong. I've never met anyone that could talk constantly for as long as she did. Then when she finally talked out, she dropped off to sleep, and snored like a sawmill."

"I am so very proud of you," he said, suddenly very serious, "I congratulate you on taking your life back."

"Thank you," she said, solemnly. "I don't think I could have or would have done it without your support." She reached over and put her hand on top of his.

He knew at that moment, he would do anything for this woman. He took a breath and smiled. "Okay, now for the important business of the morning. We can either walk back to the counter and order breakfast, or we can get my truck and head back to the RV. I'm totally fine, either way."

"Let's get a little something to eat now and then plan on a good lunch later, my treat." She smiled.

His heart melted a little more at the sight of her smile. "What would you like?"

"A bacon, egg and cheese biscuit plus a refill on this coffee."

"Are you sure you want coffee if you want to go to sleep later?"

"Good point. Make that orange juice. No, better yet, milk."

"Okay, you stay here with your bags and I'll go get our breakfast."

She watched him walk away from the table. "Girl, how did you not see him for what he was in high school?" she asked herself, under her breath. In a few minutes, he returned with their food. As they ate, they began to talk about their next move.

"It is now about 9:30. My RV is about an hour northwest of here in an RV park. I didn't know if you would want to travel today or rest. Their check out time is noon. What would you like to do?"

She smiled again. "What is your schedule? Personally, I don't have anywhere that I have to be." She tried to laugh at her attempt at a joke.

"Unless something comes up, I don't have anything scheduled until after the first of October."

"Wow. I need a job like yours."

He quickly replied before he thought, "I might be able to use an assistant."

She decided it best to send the conversation in another direction. "How far is it to your place in Florida?"

"You might as well call it a thousand miles. It is about 966 miles from where the RV is sitting, and the RV is about fifty miles from here. We are looking at probably eighteen hours on the road, by the time you add fuel stops. We can go back to the RV and head to Seagrove, or we can hang out for a day, or two, or more up here." Micah stopped talking and looked into Callie's tired eyes. "Is this your first time to be in Chicago?"

"No, the Carters drove up here from Greeneville, the first summer I was with them. We went to a Cubs game. If you're thinking about staying in Chicago to show me the sights, don't bother. I'm ready for the beach."

"You look awfully tired. Let's get my truck and go to the RV. You can take a nap on the way and when we get there, we'll decide what to do."

"It sounds like a plan." She stood up and stepped back to the other booth. She handed him the duffel. He gladly took it. When she picked up the backpack, he pulled it away from her and pulled it up on one shoulder.

"Let's go," he said and started to the door. Even tired, she had to smile. This man knew how to take care of a woman. Slow down girl. Outside it was cool. Summer was gone. His pickup was parked close by. He opened one of the back doors and put her bags inside. When he opened the front door for her, she saw a pillow that he had brought from the RV. She climbed in and he closed the door behind her.

When he closed his door, he said, "We need to get rid of our new cell phones. I've got mine, but it hasn't been turned on since early this morning. I don't know for sure that they can be traced, but I suspect they can. I was hoping I wouldn't have to use it to find you at the station."

She smiled and pulled her phone out of a pocket in the hoodie. "Great minds think alike. I turned mine off too after I got your message this morning."

"When we get to the RV, I'll destroy both of them and we'll throw them away in different locations."

"That sounds like a plan."

"Alright let's get out of here."

In fifteen minutes, they were well on their way. By the time they were out of downtown, her head was bobbing and she was fighting sleep.

"Use that pillow to make yourself comfortable. That's what it's for."

She smiled and leaned against the door. She was sleeping in five minutes. When the tires crunched on gravel at the campground, her eyes popped open. "Are we there?"

"Yes, we are." He parked the truck beside a huge motor home.

She looked around and then back to Micah. "Where is it?"

He pointed to the RV beside them.

She smiled and said, "You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not kidding. It's home. Would you like to see inside, or would you rather just stay out here?"

She sprang to life and tossed the pillow into the back seat.

"You may want to take that inside. I don't have many extra pillows."

She reached for the pillow as he climbed out of the cab. He walked around the truck and opened the door for her. In the process of turning to get out of the cab, she lost her balance and ended up, face to face in his arms. They both froze. She looked up and smiled. "This is awkward."

He smiled and set her down. "Just a bit."

He pulled her two bags from the back seat and they walked to the door of the RV. He unlocked it and held it open for her. She climbed up the stairs and stepped inside. He joined her and waited to see her reaction.

She turned to him and grinned. "When you said you had an RV, I imagined a camper trailer that you pull behind your truck."

"No, it's kind of the other way around. I pull my pickup on a trailer behind the RV."

"This is fancy."

"Would you like the tour?"

"Sure."

"I'll start at the front. Up front there are two captain's chairs that fully recline and swivel 360 degrees. There is a bunk above. You may not be interested, but the power plant is a Cumins Diesel. You are standing in the kitchen and dining area. It's got most of the stuff anyone has at home, except a dish washer. On back is the living room. The couch makes out into a bed and I have been known to take a nap or two on it and the two recliners. That little hallway goes to the bathroom and my bedroom. There is an apartment size washing machine and dryer in the hallway. There is also a generator, so I can pretty much setup anywhere. It's better if there are water and sewer connections but I have on board tanks for both. There is a satellite dish that I can set up if the campground doesn't have cable."

"Is that a king size bed?"

"It is."

"Wow."

Micah walked back to the living room and sat in one of the recliners. "It's not big, but it works for me."

Callie laughed. "My first apartment in New York wasn't this big and it was no where nearly as nice."

"Thanks."

"I'll bet the ladies like it."

"I wouldn't know."

"Don't tell me that."

"Honest. Other than my mother, you are the first woman to step foot in this RV."

She didn't respond and he didn't want it to get uncomfortable so he changed the subject. "Okay, now that you've seen the accommodations, you can see that there is plenty of room for the two of us. Would you rather stay here or hit the road?"

"Just one second." She got up from the couch and walked to the passenger seat up front. She settled into the captain's chair and proceeded to lean back. She smiled up at him and said, "Let's go to the beach. You forget, I slept on a train. I'm sure I can sleep here. This seat is much nicer than mine on the train."

"You haven't ridden in it yet, but the ride is pretty smooth. I don't think you'll have any trouble sleeping in that seat. If you do have any problems, you can take a nap in my bed or any of the other beds."

"Is it really 9:30?" she asked, pointing to a clock over the door.

"No." He looked at his watch. He reached over and turned the time ahead to 10:30. "I forgot to set it after I crossed back into the Central Time Zone."

"Can you take a shower while you're driving down the road?"

"No, the shower is in the back and I have to drive from up front."

"Very funny. Could someone take a shower while the RV is driving?"

"I guess you could, but it is probably not the best thing to do, why?"

"I've been wearing these clothes for almost thirty hours now. I would love to take a shower and put on some of my own clothes."

"Whose clothes are you wearing?"

"Ha ha. I bought them at a thrift store. I thought it would be good to travel with a little different look from my usual wardrobe."

"You certainly pulled that off. I didn't recognize you at all. I have to say, other than the makeup that is a little heavy for my tastes, you look smoking hot."

"Thank you, now about that shower."

Micah laughed. "Let me make a suggestion. I didn't connect to the water and sewer when I got here last night. I suggest you get your clothes and other stuff together and go over to the bath house and take a nice long hot shower in their big shower and I'll get this rig ready to roll. Whenever I can, I use the campground facilities for my showers. The shower in here is fine, but it is a bit small."

"Okay. Is it okay for me to unpack here on the couch?"

"Sure. I'll clear out some space in a drawer for your stuff when we stop tonight."

"Oh, thank you."

"I'm not going to drive all night like your train did." He stood and disappeared into the back of the camper and came back with a towel, washcloth and medium size gym bag. He stood at the door and watched her as she rummaged through her pack and duffel. When she looked up, he was standing in the door, smiling. "What?" she asked.

"Um, nothing. I brought you a towel and a wash cloth. Also, I thought you might like to use this bag." He pointed to the gym bag. "Sometimes I use it to carry my clothes and stuff back and forth to the shower."

"Thanks."

"I'm going to step outside now. I'm going to drive the pickup down to the office. I've got the car hauler parked down there. Unless you take really short showers, I'll be waiting for you at the bath house when you get finished." He walked out the door and left her alone.

She packed her clothes and toiletries into the bag. She looked around the RV for a place to stash her backpack. This was no RV or camper. It was a motor home. She wondered what his condo was like, if his truck and motor home were this nice. She picked up the bag and stepped outside. She could see him walking back toward the motor home. As they passed, he said, "Take all the time you want, you don't have to be in a hurry."

Micah walked through the RV, checking to make sure everything was properly secured for travel and then stepped outside. He unhooked the electrical connection. He stepped back inside and pressed the buttons to retract the leveling jacks. He took another walk around the vehicle to make sure the jacks retracted and the cargo doors were locked. With everything secured, he pulled through the space and drove to his car hauler. He backed up to the trailer and had it connected in five minutes. With the trailer connected, he loaded the pickup and strapped it down. He was ready to go. He drove around the loop of the park and stopped in front of the bath house.

In a few minutes, she walked out of the bath house. She was wearing a pair of shorts, a tee shirt and athletic shoes. She opened the door and climbed inside.

He thought she looked like a dream, but instead of saying that, he decided on something a lot safer, "Are you ready to go?"

She smiled. "I am. I feel much better now."

"Get buckled in and we'll get started." She closed the door.

"Give me your wet washcloth and towel and I'll hang them up to dry in the bathroom."

"I'll get it." She unzipped the bag, grabbed the towel and washcloth and dashed off to the bathroom. When she returned, the engine was idling. As soon as the buckle clicked on her seat belt, he released the air brakes and they were underway. At the first truck stop they came to, he pulled in to top off the fuel tanks. While they were there, he tossed her cell phone.

14:00 CDT

Two hours later, they were south of Chicago and her eyes were closed. They had been, for several miles. "Wake up, sleepy head."

"I'm not asleep. I'm just resting my eyes." She looked at him and then rubbed her eyes.

He grinned. "Whatever you say. Are you ready to eat?"

"Absolutely. Don't forget, I'm buying. Just so you don't try to let me off cheap, I want steak or seafood."

He exited I-65 at Merriville, IN, and pulled into a parking lot beside a seafood restaurant. They ate lunch, refueled and were back on the road a little over two hours later. His cell phone was dropped into a trash can at the truck stop.

14:50 CDT

Bart stepped off the California Zephyr at 2:50 pm in Chicago. The journey from Denver hadn't been too bad. In fact it was somewhat restful. All in all, he found it a pleasant way to travel, it just took too long to get from one place to another. The Lake Shore Limited to New York was not due to depart until 9:30 pm, so he had a lot of time to kill. There were some calls he needed to make, so he began to look for a quiet place. His first call was to Jayne Johnson, their building manager.

"Jayne Johnson."

"Hi, Jayne. This is Bart Kramer."

"Hi, Bart. Are you still in Denver?"

"No. I'm in Chicago. I'm heading back home on Amtrak. I'm booked on the Lake Shore Limited at 9:30 tonight."

"When will you get back to the city?"

"Tomorrow night at 6:23."

"You're kidding."

"No. I wish I was. Have you seen or heard from Callie?"

"I wish I had better news. I still haven't seen or heard from her. There was something strange though, this morning."

"What was that?"

"There were two FBI agents in the office, looking for Callie."

"Really?" Bart suddenly got tense. "What did they want?"

"Not much. They asked when I saw her last and I told them I saw her Tuesday morning. They asked if I saw her as she left for work very often. I told them nearly every morning. Then they wanted to know if she was carrying anything out of the ordinary on Tuesday morning."

"Was she?"

"No, not that I could see. I wonder what they were talking about?"

"I don't know. If you see her," he started to say.

"I know. I'll ask her to call you. Bart, if I hear anything, I will call you."

"Thanks Jayne, good-bye."

"Good-bye, Bart. Good Luck."

His second call was to the office. When the call was answered, it was a recording. "You have reached Fincher Fowler & Pratt. Due to the events of September 11th, our offices have been temporarily relocated. An information center has been established to coordinate services to our clients during this time." The recording went on to give a phone number he recognized as the number for the firm's records warehouse in East Orange, New Jersey. That confirmed the information Emily Foster had given him on Tuesday morning. He hung up the phone and called the records warehouse.

"Fincher Fowler & Pratt. How may I help you."

"This is Bart Kramer. I need to reach Frank Laslow."

"Hello, Mr. Kramer. This is Traci Osborne. Frank is actually working out of the temporary offices at Mr. Pratt's home in Parsippany. Everyone is using their cell phones, but there is a new central number over there to coordinate everything. The number is 973-555-2864."

"Thanks Traci."

"Everyone has been talking about you being stuck in Denver. Do you know when you will get to come home?"

"Actually, I'll be home tomorrow afternoon, late. I'm in Chicago now waiting for a train."

"Have you heard from your wife yet?"

"No, but I'm hopingl that she is alright, just unable to reach me."

"I hope so to. Good luck, Mr. Kramer. We're all hoping for the best."

"Thanks. Good bye." He hung up the call and called Frank.

He was about to give up and hang up the call when Frank answered. "Hi, Bart. When are you going to get back?"

"I'm supposed to arrive at Penn Station at 6:23 tomorrow evening. I'll be back to work on Monday. Do you have any idea how long we will be out of our offices?"

"Nobody seems to know. The office didn't sustain any actual damage, but the dust and soot in Lower Manhattan is a nightmare. I can't see how we will be back in there for several more days. They say we will need to have the HVAC filters changed almost daily for a long time. Our normal operations have not really been affected except by anxious clients calling to make sure we are taking care of them. If they would just stay off the phones it would be much easier for us to do what they pay us to do. Did you get everything squared away with Gordon Tildon?"

"Not at all. Before we were scheduled to start our meetings, you know what happened. I haven't really been able to concentrate on work since the attack."

"Have you talked to Callie yet?"

"No. Every time my phone rings I nearly jump out of my skin. I'm getting really worried. It doesn't look good, Frank. You can imagine how it would be if Carolyn had been there."

"Maybe she's in a hospital. There are still a lot of people in hospitals. She might not have had an ID and for some reason she can't talk."

"I never thought I would see the day that the thought of Callie being in a hospital, without an ID and unable to talk would be comforting. We live in strange times. Back to Tildon, he wasn't happy, but I told him I have everything setup for Moccasin Crossing like we discussed when he and I met in New Orleans in July. Everything is ready and can start right away, as soon as he gives his approval. Moccasin Crossing is almost identical to the setup for his Sunset View and Willow Holdings, with the enhancements we suggested. There is no reason to hold off on starting the operation. I told him I would come back and explain everything and take care of any concerns, as soon as things settle down in New York."

"It sounds like you did what any of us would have done in that situation. I guess I'll see you on Monday."

"Will do."

He hung up the phone and wondered what he would do to pass the time until 9:30.

After lunch, Callie surrendered to her exhaustion. She reclined the seat and drifted off to sleep. She slept all afternoon as they drove across Indiana and into Kentucky. Micah stopped for the night at a campground south of Lexington. She woke up in time to offer to help set things up, but there wasn't much to physically do to get it set up for the night. The pad was fairly level, but the automatic leveling system still made some minor adjustments. When he went outside to connect to the electricity, water, sewer and cable, she was at his side. Even though she didn't do anything but hand things to him from time to time, he thought it was nice to have company. When they got everything set up, he sat down at the picnic table outside. She sat down across from him.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Not so much," she replied.

"I've got sandwich meat, bread and other stuff for sandwiches in the fridge."

"That works for me."

She got up from the picnic table a little later and walked inside. She returned in a few minutes with sandwich fixings and soft drinks. She had changed from shorts to a pair of jeans, and the Jet's hoodie was back. She smiled. "I assumed that if the drink was in your fridge, it would be alright."

"It is."

They made sandwiches and ate in silence. They talked about this and that until the sun started going down and it started to get uncomfortably cool. It was mid September and Summer was fading fast. Fall and winter would soon follow. She was anxious to get to a warmer climate before it turned cold. She left most of her winter clothes with Bart, with the idea she wouldn't need them in Florida.

After dark, they went inside to watch TV. Micah left the living room after a few minutes and disappeared into his room. In a few minutes there was a knock at the door. He looked up and saw Callie. He pointed to an empty drawer. "Will this be enough for you?"

"Absolutely. That will be just fine. I travel light."

"That reminds me. What did you do with the rest of your clothes?"

"I shipped them out on Tuesday with United Shippers ground. With all the planes grounded, and everything going by truck, it may be next week before anything gets there."

"That will be just as well, I would rather be there when it arrives. Do you have the tracking numbers for your packages?"

"Yes. They are in my backpack."

"Good."

"Why?"

"I didn't tell you, but I had you do a little creative shipping."

"What do you mean?"

"I told you to ship them to your attention at the business name and address that I gave you. The business name I gave you is bogus and the address isn't mine either."

"How is that going to work?"

"If you'll get your tracking numbers, I'll start up my computer and show you."

While she was retrieving the tracking numbers, he sat down on the couch and reached beside it for his laptop. He turned it on and waited for it to boot up. She stepped over to the dining table, pulled up the seat cushion and pulled up on the lid to the storage area under the bench. She reached down and pulled out her backpack and set it on the table. He hadn't seen the pack since he had walked outside to get ready to leave the campground, northwest of Chicago. He watched as she pulled a plastic plug from the metal tube of the pack frame and pulled out a rolled up piece of paper. He got on line and went to the United Shippers web site and waited.

With paper in hand she sat down on the couch beside him and handed it to him. She realized they were sitting shoulder to shoulder and made a move to put more space between them. As he entered the tracking numbers he explained what he was doing. "I gave you instructions to ship the items to yourself at a phony business name and address. You didn't know it was fictitious. Since you specified ground shipping, it will take a while to get there. I am on their web site now and I'm going to request that they hold the boxes at the terminal for pickup. As long as we get to my place by the time the shipment does, we can pick it up at their terminal. Later on, if anyone gets curious and tries to trace the shipment, they will come to a dead end at an address that does not have the business name we used and no one knows you."

She looked at him and smiled. "Have you done this before?"

"No, but I have read a few books."

"I'm sure you have." She gave him a flirty grin and shook her head. He was still the same old Micah even if he was in a new package.

He was intently looking at the computer and didn't notice her last remark or the look she gave him. In ten minutes he was able to find out that the shipment was expected to arrive on Tuesday, but there was a notice on the web site that shipments might be delayed due to a larger than usual ground shipping volume.

He turned to her and smiled. "We shouldn't have any problem getting home before Tuesday."

She yawned and said, "Good. I would really like to go on to bed. Where will I be sleeping?"

He wanted to say, "You can sleep with me," but instead he said, "You can take my bed. I'll make up the bunk above the seats up front."

"No, you won't. I am not going to put you out of your bed. I've put you to too much trouble already. I can sleep in the bunk, just fine."

They argued, in a friendly sort of way, for a minute or two, but in the end, she prevailed. Once their sleeping arrangements were set, she unpacked the duffel and backpack into her drawer. She returned to the living room and the TV. The 9-11 Bombing, as one of the stations was calling it, dominated the three broadcast networks.

"I can set up the Satellite Dish if you want to watch something else."

"That won't be necessary. You can turn it off as far as I'm concerned. It is all still too close to me. I could have easily been in my office when it collapsed. I used to drink coffee with a friend on the 93rd floor. I wonder if she is even alive anymore."

He switched off the TV and they sat in silence. The little mobile apartment got really quiet. He looked up from what he was doing and found Callie watching him, "I figured it was going to be hard for you to walk away from your friends, but to not know if they are alive or dead has got to be even more difficult."

"It really is. If you don't mind, I'm going to go to bed. It has been a long five days for me since I made up my mind to leave Bart." She climbed into the bunk and pulled the curtain.

Chapter 16

05:30 EDT September 14, 2001

Bart woke up when the train stopped in Cleveland. It was still early, so he tried to go back to sleep. He gave up on sleeping and decided to leave his bunk when the train stopped in Buffalo. At nine in the morning, he was in New York but it would take another nine and a half hours to reach Penn Station. It would be another long day. Surely he thought he would have some news from or about Callie today.

08:00 CDT

Waking up was a totally new sensory experience for Micah on Friday morning. Before he even opened his eyes, he sensed something very different about the morning. He awoke to the aroma of a combination of bacon frying and coffee brewing. This wonderful scent was floating to his nose on a background of unfamiliar music. He had never awakened to the aroma of breakfast cooking in the RV. He frequently set the timer on the coffee pot and awoke to the smell of coffee brewing, but the addition of bacon and music was totally new and unexpected. He immediately remembered that he was not alone this morning and smiled. Still not totally awake, he sat up in bed and reached for his glasses on the night stand. He would put his contacts in later. The glasses helped a little bit. After he put them on, things began to come into focus literally. He rolled out of bed and fumbled around in his bedroom looking for his clothes. He gave no thought to the amount of noise he was making.

In the kitchen, between the sounds of the bacon sizzling in the pan in front of her and the light jazz floating from the speakers behind her, she was blissfully unaware of anyone else in the RV as she swayed to the music. She had decided to surprise Micah with breakfast for them this morning. The bacon was almost done when she thought she felt a noise, more than heard it, but she decided it was her imagination. It was still pretty early and they weren't planning to leave until around nine o'clock.

He put on a tee shirt and pulled on a pair of shorts. He opened the door to the bedroom and took two steps toward the kitchen. He was in no way trying to sneak up on her or surprise her, but he did. He took two steps into the living room and froze. Callie was standing at the range attending to a skillet of bacon. He quickly realized she didn't know he was awake. From the way she was dressed, that was obvious. She was standing there in just a tee shirt and panties. Seeing her like that, so close, made him seriously question how he was going to maintain a platonic relationship with this woman. He had made an offer at the reunion to help his friend. At some point in the future, when she was free and if she was interested, he would tell her how he felt about her.

"Good morning."

She turned to face him with the fork she was using for a spatula in her hand. She took one look at him and remembered what she was wearing, or more to the point, what she wasn't wearing. She looked down to see what he was seeing and dropped the fork. She spun around and lunged for the Jet's hoodie draped across the door of an open cabinet, two steps away. She quickly pulled the hoodie up in front of her and turned back around to face him. This all happened in the space of maybe three seconds.

He said, "I'm turning around now." She took full advantage of the opportunity and quickly slipped her arms into the jacket and zipped it up. "There," she said, "you can turn back around now."

He turned around and smiled. It was the same smile she remembered from high school. "I was cooking and it got so hot in this thing that I decided to take it off. I'm sorry."

"I'm not. You are beautiful with or without the hoodie."

"Oh, you're just saying that." She smiled, timidly.

"Only because it's true."

"No one has said that to me in a long time," she said very quietly, to no one. He knew she meant her husband.

"Well, he should have." He looked toward the stove top. "I don't want to distract you from what you're doing. Does that bacon need your attention?"

"I better get it out of the skillet before it burns." She turned around and got a clean fork from the drawer and proceeded to pull each strip from the skillet and put it on a paper towel covered plate to drain.

They stood, uncomfortably in silence for a few seconds before he spoke. "I should have made some noise or something to let you know I was awake."

"It's not your fault. It's your place. I'm so sorry." She was clearly embarrassed.

Micah tried to make it less awkward. "Look, don't sweat it. It is going to take us a little while to get used to being around each other."

She nodded and then seemed to think of something. "Now that I think about it, you did sort of mess up my plan."

He looked puzzled. "What was your plan?"

"I was going to get everything on the table and then call you to breakfast."

He smiled. "Oh, okay. I'll tell you what, I can go back to bed."

She flashed her beautiful smile at him. The awkwardness was gone. "Forget it. You've ruined the surprise now. Since you messed up my plan, you can answer a question for me."

"Okay. What is it?"

"When you fix breakfast, what do you drink? I know you drink coffee, but I saw some orange juice in the fridge."

"When I actually eat here, I usually have both, but I don't eat here very often. So, is there anything I can do to help?"

"You can set the table and get the orange juice."

He pulled the plates and flatware from the cabinet and set the table. She poured the eggs into the skillet. He opened the cabinet door to the cups and glasses and pulled out two juice glasses. He looked on the counter and saw that she already had a cup of coffee so he pulled down a cup for himself. He went to the refrigerator for the orange juice. He poured glasses for both of them and a cup of coffee for himself. "Can I warm up your coffee?"

"Sure."

As he poured the coffee, he asked, "What are we having?"

"Bacon, toast and eggs. I hope you like your eggs scrambled. That's the only way I can make them."

"Scrambled is great. I see they are just like I like them, still nice and yellow. Sometimes I leave them in the skillet too long and they get a little overdone and clumpy for my liking."

"What do you have to put on toast?"

"I've got strawberry and grape jelly and apple butter. Of course, butter too."

"I love apple butter."

"Apple butter coming right up." He set everything on the table as she finished serving up the plates and took her seat.

He sat down and looked at her with a strange look. "I have to tell you, no one has fixed breakfast for me since I left home."

"You're kidding."

"Nope, you are the first."

She sat down at the table and smiled. "I am honored to be your first, now let's eat."

They ate without any more awkward outbreaks of sentimentality. After breakfast, they washed dishes and put everything away. After they finished eating and were enjoying another cup of coffee, he said, "I've got an idea. Sometime today, we can stop and you can do a little shopping. I suspect you are going to need some things. I can't imagine that you are going to want to keep wearing your Jet's robe."

She smiled, "You don't think this is a good look for me?"

"Oh, it is absolutely a good look for you, but like you said, it may be a little hot, some times. Besides, if you wear it outside, you may not want to use it as your robe too."

"I'm really sorry about a while ago."

"Don't worry about it," he said, a smile spreading across his lips. "It's got to be a little warm in that thing."

"It is. When I started cooking, I really got hot, so I took it off and you know the rest of my embarrassing story."

"There is no need to be embarrassed."

"Anyway, ever since I left the apartment on Tuesday, I've been thinking of things I left that I wish I had been able to bring with me. A respectable robe is one of them. I'll be so glad when I get the rest of my clothes. Unfortunately, I didn't think I could bring all of them with me, or ship them either. I left most of my winter clothes in New York. I tried to pick out most of my favorites to ship to you, but I'm sure I'll find that I left some of them behind." She took a breath and continued. "I'm sure I need to buy some things."

"Well, right now, we are just south of Louisville, KY. It's almost 600 miles on to my condo. I don't usually like to drive this thing that many miles in a day. With all that said, I suggest we only drive as far as Birmingham today. That's about 350 miles. If you want, we can stop someplace along the way and you can do some shopping, if you want. We'll have plenty time."

"Are we going to pass through Nashville?"

"Yeah, it's only about 150 miles from here. If we get started by 10, we will be there this afternoon."

"There are some places I used to love to shop there, but I suppose we shouldn't even stop there for lunch."

"Unfortunately, I'm afraid you're right. You don't want to take a chance on being seen by one of your old friends or colleagues."

Callie thought about her choice to live life for a while at least on the run. After a minute or so of silence, she got up from the table. "Do we have time for me to take a shower this morning?"

"Oh absolutely, I've been thinking about taking one too."

"Good." She walked to his bedroom to her drawer and got her clothes. She pulled the towels he had washed the night before from the dryer. She folded them and put one in the shopping bag she had been using on her trips back and forth to her storage unit in New York. She put her clean clothes and toiletries into the bag and walked back to the dining table and sat across from Micah.

"I've got a shower bag too," she said, holding up her shopping bag.

"It appears that you do."

She smiled. "If you'll hurry, I'll let you walk with me to the showers."

"I'll be right back," he said, and he was, in under three minutes. They walked to the bath house and took their showers.

When he finished his shower he walked next door to the campground office and picked up brochures for several shopping destinations between Louisville and Birmingham. When she finished her shower he was waiting on the bench in front of the bath house looking over their choices.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm checking out some possible retail opportunities."

"How was your shower?"

"It was great, and yours?"

"Heavenly. Are you going to share?" She pointed to the brochures on the bench beside him.

"Sure," he said, smiling. He handed her the stack of brochures. They walked back to the RV to prepare it for traveling.

"Callie, can we talk about a few things before we get on the road today?"

"Sure, is something wrong?"

"No. Absolutely not, but I want it to stay that way."

"Okay." She started to get a little concerned with his sudden solemn attitude.

"At the reunion when I offered to help you I want you to know that my offer to help comes with no strings attached."

"Okay," she said tentatively.

"Sometimes relationships between men and women get complicated. We are old friends from high school. You are in an unfortunate situation and I think I can help you get out of it and I'm willing to do it. My help comes with no expectations other than a thank you."

"You aren't gay are you?"

He smiled. "No. It's just that you are a married woman and I respect that."

"Thanks, I'll do my part to maintain the distance that we're going to need to keep our relationship platonic."

"Good. Then we understand each other. I'll do my part too."

"Good," she thought. Then she smiled. He's not gay and someday I won't be married.

At 9:52, they left the campground, and continued south.

11:30 CDT

"Could I interest you in an early lunch?" He asked, as they approached Bowling Green, KY.

She looked up from her paperback. "How far is it to the next place to eat?"

"It's about fifty miles to the edge of Nashville. One of those brochures," he said, and pointed to the stack of papers on the console between them, "is for the Greenwood Mall. It's just ahead. It claims to have a hundred stores. If it's too early to eat, you could take care of your shopping before we eat."

She put down her book and reached for the brochure. "Okay, let's stop."

Micah exited and drove to the mall. He found a good spot to park and stopped. With the Greenwood Mall brochure in her hand, they walked across the parking lot. He held the door open for her and then had to rush to catch up with her.

"Hold on a minute," he said.

"What?" she asked when she stopped.

"I'm a little afraid to ask, but can you tell me what is on your shopping list, or at least how big it is?"

"Well, you know I need a robe. I might buy a gown to match. When we get to Florida, I don't want to look like a ragamuffin, so I need to pick up a couple new outfits to get me by until my clothes arrive from New York."

"Okay." He took a breath. "I think it would be best if you go in one direction to do your shopping and I will go in the opposite direction to do mine. I'm sure I'll see the robe you buy eventually, but it would be better for my mental health if I don't know what is under it."

She laughed at him. "How do you propose we handle this situation?"

He looked at his watch. "It's 11:45 now. Let's meet in the food court in an hour. We'll eat and decide then if we're ready to go."

"Sounds like a plan."

There wasn't anything he wanted in particular. He strolled through one of the anchor stores and then back out into the mall. He found a mall directory and walked to the book store. He went inside to look for the latest Tom Clancy novel. Once he found and bought it, he returned to the food court to wait for his passenger.

A smiling Callie walked up to his table with three shopping bags at 12:30. They ate lunch and continued toward Nashville. They stopped for the night before six o'clock at a campground south of Birmingham, AL.

18:23 EDT

Bart arrived at Penn Station just before 6:30 on Friday evening. He claimed his baggage and was heading out to get a taxi when he heard someone call his name. "Bart. Bart Kramer, wait up."

He looked all around the vast station and to his surprise, he saw one of the partners from Fincher Fowler & Pratt. Anson Fincher was rapidly walking toward him wearing a golf shirt, khakis and a windbreaker. It was a surprise to see Mr. Fincher, or any of the senior partners from Fincher Fowler & Pratt at Penn Station on Friday evening to meet him, but it was an even bigger a shock to see him wearing something other than a thousand dollar suit. "Welcome back Bart. How was your trip?"

Bart was suddenly uneasy. Something was up. He saw partners from time to time at the office, but very seldom saw one of the top three. Fincher was one of the top three. Bart smiled his best lawyer smile and said, "It was surprisingly comfortable. I even managed to get quite a bit of sleep. I had heard horror stories about Amtrak, but they must have been from people that were trying to sleep in a coach seat."

"Bart, I have some bad news."

"What is it?" He set his bags down.

"Callie has been added to the missing list."

Bart was surprised that Mr. Fincher even knew her name. "What do you mean?"

"I mean she hasn't been seen since around eight o'clock on Tuesday morning. She was scheduled to go to a meeting with two of her coworkers at nine o'clock. There is a woman named Paula O'Connor that she said she knew you. O'Connor said your wife must have forgotten about their meeting, but she had to be close by, because her purse was on her desk. When it was time to go to the meeting, your wife hadn't made it back, so she left her a note and went on to the meeting. That's all we know."

"How is Paula?"

"She is in the hospital with respiratory issues. She already had asthma. The smoke and dust made it worse but the doctors told her she should be okay in a few days."

Bart didn't look so good, so Fincher guided him to a chair and had him sit down. He looked at Fincher in disbelief as he so casually presented the information the firm had gathered. He closed his eyes, tried to gather his composure and then opened them. His face looked like it was a huge effort not to break down.

Fincher continued. "We've checked with Emergency Management and with all the hospitals. No one has seen her. Miss O'Connor said Callie had a friend that worked on the ninety-third floor. Sometimes she would go up there to have a cup of coffee with her in the morning. That was just about where the jet impacted."

He didn't say it, but he knew that Mr. Fincher was telling him that his wife was probably dead. He also knew that when Mr. Fincher said we've checked, he actually meant one of the secretaries, paralegals or one of the newest associates had checked. His time was way too valuable to be calling hospitals looking for an associate's wife.

There was something else going on here. A junior partner or associate could have met him at the station to deliver this information. His supervising partner, Frank Laslow, probably should have been stuck with that chore. He didn't understand why Anson Fincher was here now.

"Bart, there is something else. I got a call today from Gordon Tildon. He isn't happy."

Bart suddenly understood. "Did he call Frank?"

"Frank said he didn't. He came straight to me. He wasn't happy. He said you weren't acting professionally and that our firm obviously didn't value his business."

"Mr. Fincher, he can't be serious. I'm always professional with all our clients. Tuesday was a day from hell for me. There will never be a day like that again. I would have been no use to him that day in the frame of mind I was in. It's not much better now. I met with him before I left to come home on Wednesday and explained that I would return as soon as our schedules could be coordinated. Hee seemed to understand it at the time."

"Unfortunately, it appears that he changed his mind. Look Bart, Gordon Tildon is a pompous pain in the butt. I would like to tell him to take his business elsewhere." He paused for a few seconds. "I will always deny that I made either of the two previous statements. Unfortunately, he gives the firm enough business that he gets by with being that way."

"If you don't mind me asking, sir, what does he want from us?"

"He wants me to fire you."

"You're kidding. You aren't going to do that are you?"

"No, Bart, I'm not going to fire you. We hired you because you do good work. I'm going to re-assign Gordon Tildon's work to someone else, at least for a while."

Bart shook his head. "The really strange thing is that I thought Gordon and I were getting along rather well."

"You don't call him Gordon, do you?"

"That's what he told me to call him."

"Then it's obvious that he is just blowing smoke. He doesn't tell just everyone to call him Gordon. He is probably trying to gain some kind of advantage over us. Okay, enough about that. What about you?"

"I don't know. I'm really looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight."

"I know you are going through a lot right now. Do you need to take some time off?"

"I honestly don't know. If I was off from work, I don't know what I would do, other than sit by my phone, waiting for news."

"Well, if you change your mind, you can take off all the time you need."

"Thank you. I understand the firm is temporarily relocating to the records warehouse and Mr. Pratt's place at Parsippany."

"Some of us that live north and west of the city are setting up there. You live in Brooklyn don't you?"

"I do."

"That would be one awful commute for you, wouldn't it?"

"It would be pretty long, but I can do it."

"Did you take any client files with you to work on at night while you were in Denver?"

"Yes, sir."

"I figured you did. Good. We may be able to get back into our space by the end of next week. Stay at home and work on those files. Call in to the office and let them know where you will be. The main number is now being forwarded to the records warehouse. That's where most of the clerical staff is operating."

Fincher stood and Bart followed suit. "Are you ready to go home now? My car is just down the street."

"There is no need for you to drive me home. I can get a cab."

Almost immediately, Fincher said, "Okay, I'll see you around the office." He turned and was well on his way to the door before Bart picked up both his bags.

Bart walked outside to the taxi stand. In three minutes, he was on his way home. Thirty minutes later the cab pulled up in front of their apartment. When he unlocked the door and stepped inside, he said, "Jayne was right. It is clean."

In the safe haven of their apartment, he was able to let down his guard for the first time in days. Tears began to flow. It was good to be home but the apartment seemed even more empty than he anticipated. He walked from room to room in the apartment. Callie's touch was on everything. He sat down in a chair in the living room and stared at the walls. He turned on the TV but soon became too emotional as he watched the incessant coverage of the destruction of his life. He decided to go have a few drinks and take his mind off trying to figure out what he could do to find Callie and what he was going to do to try to get her to forgive him. He took a shower, changed clothes and went downstairs. For the first time since getting the call to activate him, the man in the car across street had something to do. Bart walked two blocks to a bar he sometimes frequented when he needed to get away from Callie. The second he stepped inside, he knew it was going to be as bad here as it was at home when the TV was on. Every TV in the place was tuned in to the running coverage of the World Trade Center attack. He took a seat at the bar, ordered a beer, but not because he especially wanted one, and sat for a few minutes. His tail had little more than entered the bar, when he stepped back out on the street and headed home. When he got home, he took another shower, turned off the lights and went to bed.

Chapter 17

08:00 CDT September 15, 2001

Micah woke up early on Saturday. It was exciting to know he would be home to sleep in his own bed tonight. When he left the RV to go to the bath house, Callie woke up. She quickly gathered everything for a shower and headed that way herself. When she got back to the RV, he had things ready to roll.

"There is a good place to stop for breakfast just down the road. Besides, I checked and we don't have enough groceries to cook this morning."

"It sounds good to me."

After breakfast and a fuel stop, they continued toward the coast. A few hours later they left the interstate, just south of Montgomery. When they crossed over I-10, she sensed they were getting close. Soon after they crossed Choctawhatchee Bay, he slowed and stopped at a plumbing supply company. It was Saturday and the parking lot was empty. "This is where I park the RV when I'm at home. It's still about ten miles from here to the condo," he said. At the back of the parking lot was a fenced lot where trucks and construction equipment was parked. The lot had gates at both ends of the fence running along the parking lot. He drove up to the gate closest to the building and stopped. He reached into the glove box and pulled out a key.

"I'll be right back," he said as he opened a door she had not previously noticed and climbed down to the pavement. He unloaded his pickup truck, walked to the gate, unlocked it and pushed it open. He climbed back into his driver's seat and put the big rig in gear. He drove through the gate and parked the RV parallel to the back fence. He turned to Callie. "Are you ready to go to the beach?"

"Absolutely"

"I'm going to bring the truck along side. We need to load everything in the truck that we want to take to the condo. If you'll get your stuff, I'll get mine and the linens. We can do all the laundry at the condo."

14:00 CDT

Just after two o'clock, Micah unlocked the front door of his condo and pushed it open.

Bart and Callie should have been driving south toward Charleston, but 9-11 changed all that. Instead, Bart walked downstairs on Saturday morning to check the mail. The box was full. He pulled everything out of the box and thumbed through it on his way back upstairs. He walked into the office, sat down at his desk and sorted the mail into stacks by importance. Among the items was a letter addressed to him. It had a first class stamp, but no return address. He picked it up, looked it over and decided that if someone didn't want it back if it was undeliverable, it probably wasn't important, so it went to the stack with the other junk mail. He was looking through the first of the first class mail when the phone rang. He looked to the place the cordless phone was supposed to be and it wasn't there. He remembered leaving it in the living room so he picked up the important mail and went to answer the phone.

Micah held the door open for Callie to step inside. He followed her inside, set his suitcase and the laundry bag down and switched on a lamp. The drapes were drawn, so there was very little other light in the room. "You can set your bags down here. We'll figure out where to put everything in a minute. I want to show you the place first. Come on," he said, with a note of obvious pride in his voice.

He walked through the kitchen and living room in a rush to get to the far corner of the room. He reached for the wand and pulled the drapes all the way across the wall to the opposite corner. Immediately the room was flooded with light. She squinted until her eyes adjusted. He pulled the sliding glass door open and stepped outside. "You've got to see this view."

She stepped out on the balcony and was overwhelmed. She had worked on the 73rd floor of 1 World Trade Center, but she had never had an office near a window. Most of what she had seen from the windows of the WTC had been the tops of other buildings and the ground, several miles away, on clear days. She was seldom close enough to a window to see the ground, anywhere near the base of the building. Micah's condo was on the sixth floor, but the view of the white sand and blue water was incredible. "I like to sit out here in the mornings and in the evenings. In summer it gets really hot in the afternoon, but the sunsets are worth it." There was a table and four chairs on the balcony. She followed him back inside and the tour continued.

"This is a sleeper," he said, pointing toward a tropical looking sofa. Without the curtains drawn, she could see that the condo had nine foot ceilings. It gave it a very open feel. The kitchen, dining area and living room were one big open room. His dining table was surrounded by six matching chairs and there were two stools at a bar that ran along the back side of the kitchen counters. Around the corner in the kitchen was a laundry area. They walked back to the living room to a door and stepped into the master bedroom. "Wow!" was all she could say. A bay window had the same view as the balcony and a glass door opened to the balcony. Somehow, she had missed noticing the door when they were on the balcony a few minutes earlier. The master bath had twin sinks, a shower, a jetted tub and of course, a toilet. Back closer to the entry door were doors leading to the second bedroom and a standard bathroom. The standard bathroom was accessible from the the bedroom and the living room. The second bedroom was a nice size room with a queen size bed. Both bedrooms, as well as the living room had TVs. The condo was very nicely decorated.

"Well, what do you think? Do you think you will be okay to hang out here for a while?"

Callie pretended to have to think about it for a few seconds. "Hmmm. I think so." She began to laugh. "Are you kidding? It will be like being on a forever vacation."

"Then you will stay?"

"Of course I'll stay. I would stay even if I had a choice." She reached out and hugged Micah before she thought better of it.

"Alright. Let's get settled and then we will go eat and go to the grocery store. Did you bring a swimsuit?"

"Why?"

"It will still be warm enough to swim in the gulf for a few more weeks and the pool is heated so you can swim most days in the winter."

"I haven't been swimming in years."

"You'll have to change that, now that you live on the beach."

"I can't get too used to it. I won't live here forever."

"You could."

She decided she should send this conversation elsewhere, so she turned and walked back to her bags. "It won't take long for me to unpack." She picked up the backpack and carried it to the second bedroom and returned for her duffel. He carried the laundry bag to the washer. He unpacked his suitcase and returned to the kitchen. He switched on the ice maker and checked the refrigerator. Other than a few condiments, it was empty which was good. He hadn't been home since May. It had been a busy summer.

When Callie finished unpacking, she returned to the kitchen. "I noticed some clothes in the closet."

"Oh, yeah. My mom and dad left some things here. She didn't want him to wear those tropical print shirts when they returned to Arizona so she made him leave them here."

Callie laughed. "Do they visit very often?"

"I've lived here for five years and they've visited twice. They left the shirt last March."

"Your condo is beautiful."

"Before you ask, I didn't decorate it. The person that decorated it was also the person that showed me how to dress."

"She did a great job."

"He."

"Oh, he did a great job. He did a great job with you too."

There were a few moments of awkward silence and then he said, "I think it is way past time for lunch."

She nodded. "Good idea." It was going to take a while for them to get used to interacting with each other.

He walked to one of the drawers in the kitchen and pulled out a key ring and handed it to her.

"What is this?" she asked and held up one of the keys.

"That is a key to the front door."

"And this?" she asked holding the next one on the ring.

"RV."

She held up the next one.

"My truck. And the last one is parked downstairs."

"What is it?"

"You'll see in a minute. Let's go to the parking garage."

They took the elevator to the garage. As soon as they got off the elevator, she pressed a button on the key and a car horn sounded and lights blinked.

"You're cheating."

"You forget. I am a researcher, or I was. I find out things with the tools I'm given. This," she said, holding up the key, "was the only tool available to me."

She walked straight to the Volkswagen and held out the keys for Micah.

"You're driving. I told you there was a car here for you to drive. You might as well start learning your way around. I won't be here with you all the time. I hope it will start. It hasn't been started since May. Can you drive a standard?"

"Of course. You forgot about my trusty Chevy? It was a stick."

"That's right."

It was a little sluggish, but the Golf started. Callie expertly navigated out of the garage to the highway. They headed west and were soon in the midst of a vast variety of dining choices.

"When you see something you want to try, stop."

"Okay."

She spied out a seafood restaurant and pulled into the parking lot.

"I take it you like seafood," he said.

"I love it."

"Good. I do too."

They ate a late lunch and Micah insisted on paying. At the grocery store, Callie was sneaky. At the check out counter, she remembered something else they needed. She sent Micah to get it. When he got back, she had paid for the grocery order. On the way back to the condo, he said, "We need to have a talk about your money."

"Okay," she said and smiled.

He didn't expect that response.

15:00 EDT

It wasn't a good day for golf at Three Hills, but they weren't really there for golf. Anson Fincher, Blake Fowler and Elliot Pratt met at this golf course when they wanted to get away from curious ears. They never mentioned that they would discuss business, but they only went to this particular golf course when there was business to discuss. It made it easy to call a meeting. They played many other courses, but when one of them suggested this one, it was for golf, but mostly for business. At three, all three men arrived. They went to the parking space for their carts in the cart shed. Before saying anything, Fowler pulled an electronic device from under his car seat and proceeded to sweep the carts and all their golf bags for bugs. Sure they were paranoid, but they also knew there were hazards in their business.

Once they were convinced everything was clean, they loaded the carts and headed to the first tee. Even though the carts had been swept, conversation on the carts was limited, by mutual agreement, to non business topics. At the first tee, Blake asked, "What is the status of Bart Kramer?"

"I met him at the station last night when he got in from Denver. He is a mess."

"We better have someone keep tabs on him until things settle out." Elliot suggested.

Anson pulled his driver from his bag. "We should play some golf."

They each took their opening shots and went back to the carts. As usual, the man with the ball closest to the flag didn't have to drive. Elliot Pratt gloated and claimed his passenger seat.

Later, on the green, Anson said, "Jim Lewis has someone keeping an eye on him."

Eliot asked, "Do you think that is really necessary?"

"Yes, with his wife missing, he is under a lot of stress. The feds might try to lean on him. If they do, we need to know it so we can take appropriate action. Jim's contacts tell him they are nosing around again."

Anson, ever the one to remind them they were supposed to be playing golf, pulled out one of his irons and walked toward his ball, the furtherest from the pin, on this hole. "Come on gentleman, let's play golf."

It was the seventh hole before anyone discussed business again. At the tee, Elliot asked the other two, "How much exposure do we have with Kramer?"

"Too much," Anson answered, "he did all the work on the new project for Gordon Tildon. Then Tildon said he wanted him fired."

"Does he know it?" Blake asked.

"Yeah. I felt like I had to tell him. I reassigned that project to Eckhart."

"I wish you hadn't told him."

"Why?"

"He might be pissed about it. It may be a lot easier to decide to betray the confidence of someone that wanted you fired."

"I suppose you're right."

On the eighth green, Elliot asked, "What if they make a play for him?"

"What do you mean?" Blake asked.

"What I means is if the feds make a play for him, he will either tell us or he won't. It really doesn't matter. Our people are watching and will tell us," Elliot began.

"How will they know?" Blake asked.

Anson smiled. "You don't want to know."

"Oh."

"If he tells us about it, we can handle it like we always have. If he doesn't tell us, we have a few decisions to make. Does it mean he turned them down flat or he is going to play ball with them? If he turns them down flat, we will know. If he agrees to play ball with them, we will know that too. The most dangerous scenario is if he doesn't tell us and he doesn't tell them yes or no, either."

"All we can do is wait and watch."

"We could just eliminate the risk."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't want to know."

"Oh, that."

The three partners finished their round of golf and went home. The only thing they could do was wait to see how it played out with Kramer.

When they got home from the grocery store and everything was put away, Micah reminded her, "We need to talk."

"Okay. Can we go out on the balcony?"

"Absolutely. First, I need to get some things."

Callie went outside and sat down at the table and he joined her three minutes later with two pads of paper, a calculator and two pens.

"I never got over being a nerd," he said as he passed her a note pad and pen.

"That's okay, notes are good. What do you want to talk about?"

"The first thing I think we need to discuss is your financial position. At the reunion, you were concerned about having the resources to tide you over until you could get a divorce and establish some kind of income. I don't want to seem indelicate, but how much do you have to work with?"

She smiled a knowing smile. "A hundred and forty-one and change."

He blinked a few times. "A hundred and forty-one dollars and change?"

"No, no. A hundred and forty-one thousand dollars and change."

He dropped his pen. "When we talked in Greeneville, you mentioned taking half of maybe forty thousand from savings and eight or nine thousand in checking."

"I was right about the checking account. It had about $9400. I took eight thousand from that one. I took 130 of about 133 from savings."

"What caused the change of heart?"

"You mean about taking half the money?"

"Yes."

"There is no way we saved that much money with our incomes. I suspect some of it may be dirty money."

"Still, that's only 138 thousand. Where did the other three come from."

"That is the other thing that convinced me to take a bigger piece of the pie. About three weeks ago, Bart told me he was concerned that we would need to relocate in a hurry, so he gave me $500 to keep with me at all times and another $500 to keep hidden at my office. We also had $2000 hidden at home. I brought all of that when I took off. He also said he had a nest egg hidden somewhere. Something he is doing is not on the up and up. He can have his nest egg, but I took most of the rest."

"Have you considered that the 138 thousand may be the nest egg?"

"I hadn't thought about that. Oh well."

"Maybe you can make me a loan."

She smiled. "How much do you need?"

"I'm kidding."

"I'm serious."

He pushed the pad and calculator aside. "I don't suppose you will need to make a budget and spending plan."

"I don't think so. At least not for a while."

"So, where exactly is this treasure trove?"

"It is in a plastic shopping bag behind your clothes washer."

"Are you serious?"

"I am."

"We probably need to find a better place to keep it."

"I know that is exactly right."

"I know you aren't supposed to do it, but you could put it in a safe deposit box at a bank."

"If I rent a safe deposit box, I'll have to use my social security number and I don't want to do that just yet."

"You don't want to make it any easier for him to find you."

"Exactly."

"So, what do you want to do?"

She looked out to the horizon for a few moments and then turned to Micah. "In no particular order, I want to get a divorce, figure out a way to safeguard my money, go swimming, work on my tan, read a few good books, research some stocks for my own benefit, do some traveling, find the love of my life, get married and have a baby." She thought about what she had said for a moment, and then added, "I suppose I should try to get a job."

"That stock thing for your benefit might be a pretty lucrative job if you are good at what you do."

"I am."

He laughed. "Okay, now that we know your life goals, let me rephrase my question. What would you like to do this afternoon?"

"Honestly, the beach looks awfully inviting. Since I don't have a swim suit, can I go shopping for one?"

"Of course. It's kind of late in the season, so if you don't want to spend all day searching twenty different stores, you can go to a specialty shop over in Destin that only carries women's swim wear. You can be there in about thirty minutes. You probably won't get back in time to swim this afternoon, but you can be ready for tomorrow."

"Will you go with me?"

"Sure."

"Great. Let's go."

By the time they got to Destin and she found three swimming suits she liked, it was six thirty. Since it would be after sunset before they could get back to the condo, he suggested dinner at yet another seafood restaurant, this one in Destin. When they got home, they logged on to UnitedShippers.com to check on the status of her shipment. It was still scheduled for delivery on Tuesday.

22:00 EST

Bart's experience in the bar around the corner from their apartment on Friday night soured him on the whole idea of going out, at least until the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center weren't on TV 24/7. On Saturday afternoon, he walked to a neighborhood liquor store and purchased five bottles of liquor so he would have a variety of drink choices. He had never been one to drink alone or at home but he did both on Saturday night.

Chapter 18

08:00 CDT Sunday, September 16, 2001

Callie woke up and looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was eight o'clock. She was instantly concerned that it was so dark in her room, until she remembered how dark the whole place had been when they arrived yesterday. She yawned and stretched and enjoyed the comfort of a real bed instead of the bunk in the RV. The linens smelled good and felt good against her skin. She pushed the covers aside and got out of bed. She slipped into her new robe and stepped into the bathroom. She returned to the bedroom to get dressed. She made her bed and emerged to look for Micah. A box of breakfast cereal that they bought the day before, two bowls and a bowl of fruit sat on the table. A coffee cup sat on the counter beside the coffee maker. She poured a cup and walked to the balcony. She opened the door and stepped outside.

"Good morning, sleepy head," he said.

"Good morning."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Never better. That bed is heavenly."

"I'm glad you like it. What is on your agenda for today?"

"I'm still interested in going to the beach."

"When do you want to go?"

"As soon as I can get ready."

"I have two beach chairs and a beach umbrella. The sunscreen is under the bathroom counter in your bathroom. There is a small ice chest in the front closet that you can take, if you want."

"You're coming with me aren't you?"

"I can, if you want me to."

"Micah Marsh, would you go to the beach with me?"

"Sure."

"How long will it take you to get ready?"

"About five minutes. How about you?"

10:00 EDT

Bart woke up with a terrible pounding in his head. He opened his eyes and struggled to focus on the numbers on the clock radio. It was ten o'clock. He wondered why he felt so bad for maybe ten seconds before he remembered the massive volume of alcohol he had consumed on Saturday night. He considered pulling up the covers and going back to sleep. He suddenly felt ashamed when he remembered Callie was out there somewhere. He didn't know if she was alive or dead. He dragged himself out of bed and staggered to the kitchen. He started a pot of coffee and went to the bathroom. He tried to remember the hangover remedy he used to use in college. He took as many aspirins as he thought halfway safe and staggered into the shower. He hoped the hot water and steam would help to clear the cobwebs from his head. Without a better plan, he stood under the shower until the hot water was gone. When he stepped out of the shower, he began to think he might actually live through the day. He went to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. After his second cup, he walked to the front door to get his copy of the Sunday New York Times. He brought it inside and started reading anything he could find about survivors and victims of the attack. He found a phone number to call for more information and another to call to register as looking for someone. At both numbers, the people were helpful, but couldn't offer any information.

At noon, the realization that there would be no professional football games this Sunday guaranteed him the day would be even longer than he anticipated. He found a cable movie channel, but could watch only so much of the drivel. In the middle of the afternoon, he decided to get out of the apartment and go for a walk. The moment he stepped out of the building, he was under observation. A man got out of a car parked on the opposite side of the street and began to follow him. Halfway down the block, he crossed the street and fell in behind him, about seventy-five feet back. Bart didn't notice. The FBI did. Bart's first tail was intent on keeping him in sight. So much so that he didn't realize he was being followed as well.

He walked to a park. For a while, he watched a group of kids playing football. When he got bored with that, he moved along and eventually stopped to sit on a bench near the park entrance. He couldn't stay there long either. The sight of happy families and children playing made him even more depressed. The tail felt sure Bart looked right at him at least three times, but didn't notice. He was in a daze and oblivious to everyone around him.

2:30pm CDT

As they sat on the beach, Callie began to realize that as nice as it was to sit and watch the waves roll in, she was going to need something to do, and soon. She hadn't worked in almost a week. "Micah, do you have Internet service?"

"I don't, but I think it is available. Are you going to need it?"

"It would be nice. I think I am going to look at laptop computers tomorrow. I can already see that I'll need to be able to do some research, just to keep my sanity. I wonder if I can get the Wall Street Journal down here."

"You can probably get it at a news stand."

"I'll have to be on the lookout for it."

"You could read, or take up knitting or cross stitch or needle point or painting."

"I don't like doing that kind of stuff."

"Maybe you would like to go with me."

"I might. I guess it would depend on where you're going."

"I suppose we need to talk about our situation here."

"What do you mean?"

"How are you or how am I going to explain your presence here?"

"Oh, I haven't given it any thought."

"It would probably be even more difficult to explain if you were on the road with me."

"You've got a point."

"Most of the units in this building are rental units. The owners are here for a week or two during the year and they try to keep them rented the rest of the time. There are very few full time residents and there are some, like me that aren't here much and don't rent much either. As far as I know, there are no full timers on this floor. In most of the units, there is a new set of occupants every Saturday or Sunday. I'm thinking that anytime you are here by yourself and you feel you must say something, you should say you are renting the condo. When I'm here, you can say you are my cousin. Realistically, it probably won't ever come up. I seldom have any contact with the neighbors. People on vacation are usually only interested in what they have planned for the week."

"It sounds reasonable to me."

"I don't see why it won't work."

"Do you actually have any cousins?"

"I have three, but we aren't close. I haven't seen any of them in years."

"So they aren't likely to show up here, unannounced, for a visit?"

"No, not a chance."

"What about your parents? How likely are they to show up unannounced?"

"They did that just after I bought the place and I wasn't home. They learned their lesson. Both times they've been here since, they called several days ahead."

East Orange, NJ

At 7 pm, Jim Lewis knocked on the front door of the Fincher home. He was expected and quickly ushered into the office. Normally they would have had this meeting at the office, but the current situation downtown was far from normal. There were certain things that all the partners chose not to know. Internal security was one of them. Fincher was the partner's contact for matters of security, uncovered by Jim's staff.

"Have a seat." Fincher directed Lewis into a chair and then sat across from him. "Talk to me."

"I'm not to sure what to think about our boy, Bart Kramer. He has been easy to monitor this weekend. He's only been out of his apartment building three times since he got home. He went out to a little bar around the corner from his apartment for a few minutes on Friday night and he paid a visit to a liquor store around the corner on Saturday afternoon. Today, he went out for a little walk in the park. The man is walking around in a daze. I'm starting to get concerned. Up to this point he has always been a team player, but this situation with his wife could change everything. He is going to need to be monitored closely until his situation is resolved and we can tell if he is still going to be an asset. Right now I believe he is becoming a liability. His liability may eventually exceed his value to the firm if he doesn't get his act together, and soon."

"At this point, all we can do is keep an eye on him."

"I know. He is our number one priority right now. There is something else."

"What is it?"

"Today, our guy noticed someone else following them."

"What do you mean?"

"Our guy noticed that there was someone else following Kramer."

"Who is the other tail?"

"We think it is probably the FBI."

"Do you think it could be someone working for Tildon? He was very unhappy with Kramer last week. He might have sent some of his people to keep an eye on him."

"No, I don't think so. He would have had to send them on the same train with Kramer on Wednesday. Bart Kramer is having a hard time right now, but he has always been a team player. Tildon knows that."

"You're probably right."

"On another matter, I've come across some new information that is pretty interesting. I probably should share it with everyone."

"Is that so?" Lewis had his attention now.

"Yes."

"Blake and Eliot are going to meet me for a round of golf at Three Hills tomorrow afternoon. Be there at three."

"I'll be there."

"Jim."

"Yes?"

"Good job. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bright and early."

Monday September 17, 2001

Micah was sitting on the balcony with a cup of coffee when Callie opened the sliding glass door and stepped outside. "You really do like it out here."

"I could sit out here all day, and some days I do."

"Seriously, what do you like to do when you're down here?"

"You're looking at it."

"That might work for you for a few days, but in the long run, I don't know if I can spend every day on the beach or up here on the balcony watching the beach."

"You have to admit, the view is pretty spectacular."

"I agree. I can't say that I've seen anything that can come close to it, but I'm going to have to find something to do with myself to keep from going nuts."

"I understand. I'm only here for a few weeks at a time, and then I go back to work."

"I just don't know if I can adjust to this way of life for more than a few weeks."

"You might be surprised. Give it a little time."

"Right now, this morning, I want to go down the beach for a little while, but there are some other things I want to do before too long."

"Touristy kinds of things?"

"Sure, there are some of those kinds of things I would like to do, but I'm thinking about more serious things."

"Okay, what do you have in mind?"

"I'm going to need a computer. I'm thinking about buying a laptop."

"Okay, I'm not sure where you will have to go to get one."

"I'm not looking for anything fancy. Probably any place that sells computers will have something that will work for me."

"When do you want to go?"

"I would like to go, this afternoon."

"Okay, you need to know that you don't have to wait for me. You have a key to the Golf. You can go anywhere you want, whenever you want to go."

She smiled, "I'm trying to get used to that. I'm probably going to get a new cell phone, too. For now, I'm just going to get a prepaid."

"I'll be glad to go with you if you want. Just let me know so I can get ready. Destin is probably a good place to start looking, and you can probably find something over there. If you don't, we can expand your search area."

"Thanks. I'm off to the beach now." She turned and stepped back inside.

Bart took Mr. Fincher's advice and stayed home to work on the case files he had intended to work on in Denver. He called the clerical staff at the records warehouse and got a list of people that had left messages while he was out of town. He returned calls and checked on the projects he knew needed his attention. He even did some preliminary research on two potential projects.

In the afternoon, he made calls to the same people he talked to on Sunday regarding his search for Callie. This afternoon, he got the same words of encouragement and promises to contact him with any new information that he got on Sunday. He hung up the phone more frustrated than before the calls.

Paula O'Connor looked up when she heard the knock on her hospital room door. She forced a smile when she recognized the two men at her door as the men who had come to see Callie a few days earlier. She was a little surprised to see them and very surprised when they introduced themselves.

"Miss O'Connor, we need to ask you a few questions." Agent Waters began, after their introductions.

Paula smiled, "Please, call me Paula."

"Okay, Paula, we need to ask you a few questions about last Tuesday morning."

She looked puzzled. "I was out of the office after about 8:30 when I left for a meeting."

"We are just trying to get some background information."

She smiled sweetly and said, "I don't see how anything I know will help, but I'll tell you everything I know."

"Great, so let's get back to my question, what can you tell us about last Tuesday morning?"

Paula took a deep breath. "I got to the office at about 7:30. I was a little earlier than usual. Callie Kramer, Dan Washington and I had a presentation to make uptown at nine o'clock. I wanted to make sure I had everything ready for the presentation so I came in a little early. Callie usually takes the lead on presentations like this one, but she asked me to do it this time."

"Does she do that often?"

"Do what?"

"Ask you to do her work."

"It's not a matter of doing her work." Paula wasn't smiling any more. "She and I do the same kind of work. She likes the presentation part of our jobs better than I do, so she does most of them. If anyone is doing someone else's work, it would be her."

"I see."

"Good. Anyway, the weather was nice, so I decided to walk to the meeting. Callie always likes to walk, so I knew she would go for it. We were going to meet Dan there. At about 8 o'clock, I hadn't seen her so I checked her cubicle. Her purse was there, but she wasn't. I knew she must have been somewhere close to have left her purse out on her desk like that. She sometimes drinks coffee before work with a friend of hers on the 93rd floor. Sometimes she goes up there and sometimes Joan comes to her office. Anyway, I called her cell phone, but didn't get an answer. I waited as long as I thought I could, but I finally had to leave, so I left her a note and started walking."

Agent Maddox asked, "Was there anything unusual about Mrs. Kramer on Monday?"

Paula began to get agitated. "You aren't really here to talk about the attack at all are you?"

Agent Maddox didn't even acknowledge her question. "Miss O'Connor, was there anything unusual about Mrs. Kramer on Monday?"

"No, she was her same old self. One head, a lot of other things in pairs."

"Miss O'Connor, did she say or do anything unusual?"

"Not that I recall. She left a few minutes early, but I wouldn't call it unusual."

"Thank you, Miss O'Connor, you've been a great help." Agent Maddox stood to leave and Agent Waters joined him at the door.

"You're welcome," she said, but didn't mean it. I wonder what those guys really want with Callie?

In the elevator on the way to the lobby, Waters asked Maddox, "Why were you in such a hurry to get out of there?"

"I didn't want our witness to come to the same conclusion that I did."

"And what is that conclusion?"

"I don't think Callie Kramer came to work on Tuesday. I think she left her purse on her desk to make Paula O'Connor or anyone else think she was there if they came looking for her on Tuesday. I'll bet there wasn't anything in her purse."

"You could be right."

"The problem is that we'll never know."

"Okay, let's say I buy your theory. It raises another question."

"What is that?"

"Why didn't she go to work? We already know she had booked a ticket for Belize that didn't leave until 8:30 on Tuesday night."

"Maybe she had some more errands to run. Maybe she was going to clear out their other savings account."

"Do we know that she didn't?"

"That bank hasn't called. Maybe I should check with them."

"One of us should."

"Okay, let's assume she had things to do on Tuesday. What did she do when all the planes were grounded?"

"That, my friend is the task at hand."

"Any ideas?"

"I'll let you know."

There was a thump on the top of the umbrella and Callie looked up. Micah knelt and set a small ice chest on the sand in the shade. He spread out a towel and sat down in the sand beside her chair. "You must have decided not to go shopping for a computer today."

She grinned sheepishly. "Honestly, I was reading and fell asleep." She stretched. "What time is it?"

He laughed and said, "It's time for you to get a watch." He took his eyes off her for a second as she started to stretch. "Seriously, it's almost 1:30." He had never before realized that a woman stretching could be so seductive. He began to wonder how seductive she could be if she was trying.

"Oh my. I lost track of time. When I first came down, I went out in the water for a few minutes and then came back up here and started reading. I intended to only stay out until noon. I don't want to get sunburned. I started to get hot while I was reading and went back into the water to cool off. When I came out of the water for the second time, I had every intention of reading for a few minutes and going back up stairs. I woke up a few minutes ago and my book was laying in the sand."

He laughed. "This place will do that to you. It is very conducive to relaxing."

She shook her head. "I had no idea it was this late. I'm going to have to do something about that."

"Do something about what?"

"Keeping up with time. In the past week, I have thrown away two perfectly good clocks on cell phones. I've never been a fan of wrist watches. I might get a small radio. I could keep up with the time on a radio." She paused for a few moments. "Is it too late to go shopping?"

"No, I don't think so. I just came down to make sure you were alright and I brought you some lunch."

"That is so sweet. You are going to spoil me."

"You probably should wait till you see what I brought."

"I'm sure it will be great."

She reached for the ice chest, opened the lid, and laughed. Inside the ice chest, on a layer of ice, were two bottles of water, an apple, a banana and an orange.

"This isn't very much for two people."

"Oh, it's just for you. I wanted to make sure you were set before I went to lunch. I'm thinking about fajitas at this little place just down the street."

She smiled and closed the lid on the ice chest. "Can I go too? Fajitas sound pretty good right now and then maybe we could do a little shopping later."

"Sure, if you'll carry the ice chest, I'll grab your chair, the towels and the umbrella."

"You've got a deal."

They returned to the condo. She took a quick shower and was again glad she had cut her hair. She was ready to go in twenty minutes. They ate a quick lunch and headed to an electronics store. She picked out a prepaid phone, a laptop computer and case. It was fun to peel off hundred dollar bills and pretend it was the most normal thing in the world. She wondered if Bart knew what she had done yet. She realized she didn't even know if he had been able to get home. Her letter had probably been in the mailbox on Wednesday or Thursday. She tried to imagine his reaction. To see the look on his face would have been priceless.

Any time he met with the Big Three at a Three Hills, Jim Lewis made every effort to be the first to arrive. Today he arrived at 2:45. He didn't meet often with them at Three Hills, but he had been given a key to their cart storage. He unlocked the door and pushed it open part way. He opened the tailgate of his SUV, pulled out his golf clubs and carried them inside. He switched on the light and closed the door. He pulled an electronic device from his golf bag and swept the carts, the storage bay and his bag for electronic eavesdropping devices. There were none. There never had been any here, but when the Feds were nosing around it was better to err on the side of caution. He put his sweeping device back in his bag, opened the door and took a seat on one of the carts to wait for the partners to arrive.

Jim spotted Pratt first as he pulled up beside the building. Fowler and Fincher pulled into the next parking place before Pratt opened the trunk of his car. Fincher and Pratt carried paper cups from a fast food restaurant. The Big Three only did fast food if they wanted to talk privately. They had already had a meeting to get ready to meet with their head of security. Jim was not surprised. The three of them had their secrets, even from him.

The three, somewhat overweight golfers carried their golf bags into the cart bay. Fincher put his clubs on the cart beside Jim's. The other two put theirs on the other cart. Jim Lewis reported directly to Anson Fincher, so they always rode on the same cart when he was invited to Three Hills. When his clubs were loaded and secured to the cart, Fincher pulled out his own sweeping device and proceeded to sweep the bay, the carts and their bags. When he was finished, he looked at Jim. "Clear. Same as you?"

He nodded his agreement. Jim Lewis had instructed his boss in the use of the bug sweeper, as Fincher called it. He smiled and put the device in his golf bag. "You can teach this old dog new tricks. Gentlemen, I don't know about you, but I can't wait to hit a golf ball today."

At the first tee, the partners took their first shots. When it was his turn, he got a little nervous. He found it was more nerve wracking to make sure he didn't play as well as his boss and the other partners than trying to play his best golf. He hit the ball solid, but not much further than the shortest drive of the other three. When he got to the green, he could make up for any good tee or second shots.

When they got to the first partner's ball on the fairway, they all four walked out on the course to discuss the situation. Fortunately, there was no one waiting behind them.

Anson Fincher set the agenda for their conversation when he said, "Men, Jim has told me he has interesting information."

Jim looked to each of the partners and said, "I have heard an interesting rumor."

"What is it? Don't keep us in suspense," Pratt said as he swung a practice swing. His ball was furtherest from the pin.

"You know that we have been aware for some time that the FBI was nosing around, and that someone in the Federal Prosecutor's Office is looking to make a name for themselves and has decided Fincher Fowler & Pratt is their target."

"That's not news," Pratt said. He stepped up to his ball, looked toward the green and took his second shot. It was pretty good. It continued to amaze Jim that these three men could discuss serious security matters for the firm and play descent golf at the same time.

"Yes, Jim, we know all that. I believe it is your turn." Fowler said. He turned and walked toward the next ball. When they got to Jim's ball, Anson Fincher stood over it. It was obvious he wanted Jim to share his information sooner rather than later.

"Well, do you know where their offices are located?"

"Who?"

"The FBI and the Federal Prosecutor."

"No."

"They are in temporary space now, but they were in the World Trade Center."

"Okay."

"Gentlemen, it's a bit premature to have a party, but any physical evidence or hand written case notes or unbacked up computer files went down with the rest of the building last Tuesday morning."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that it is quite possible that they have lost at least some and perhaps all of their physical evidence, if they had any and I'm not saying they did. Right now, I suspect they are scrambling to determine the extent of the damage to their active and pending cases. If they decide to continue their harassment of the firm, they are quite possibly going to have to start over. It is even quite possible that some of the investigators and attorneys died in the collapse."

Fincher moved away from his ball and Jim took that to mean it was time for him to make his second shot. The partners moved out of earshot while he took a couple practice swings. After delivering his news, Jim felt he could risk a good shot and put the ball on the green. They walked to the next two balls without conversation and each partner made his shot. On the walk back to the carts, Fincher said, "Jim has some pressing business back at the office downtown. He needs to check on the status of the cleanup. I'm going to run him back to his car."

"Jim, thanks for coming out." Fowler said.

Eliot Pratt actually managed to smile and said, "Keep up the good work."

"Thank you."
Jim stepped onto the cart where Anson Fincher was waiting and rode back to the clubhouse. He knew that all work related conversation was over.

Chapter 19

Tuesday was rather uneventful for Bart and Callie, at first. Callie spent the greater part of her day, sitting on the balcony, getting her new computer configured like she wanted. As she set about redefining her life after Bart, she decided a new email address was in order. With that decision made, she logged on to the emailme.com website and began to setup her account. Her first step was choosing an account name. She decided to pick something that would not give away her name or initials or address. She thought back to her first car and decided on the letters vette. She needed at least three more characters so she decided to use Micah's trick of taking two digits, adding them together, adding that to the string, then adding the last two digits and adding it to the string and repeating it until you had the number of digits you wanted. She chose 77 as her starting number, so she decided on vette77145. She looked at it and thought it looked like a zip code. She looked it up and found that it was a zip code in Houston. That would be perfect. Not surprisingly, vette77145@emailme.com was available. The next decision was the name to use. She didn't especially want to use Callie. It was a fairly uncommon name. The site allowed her to use an initial, so she used CB as her first name. For her last name, she didn't want to use Kramer or Simon. She thought back to the train and the woman that sat beside her. Madge had told her to call her grandma, so Callie decided to list her last name as Turner. For her address, she used the address of the building next door.

In just a few minutes, she was setup as vette77145@emailme.com. She was starting to feel like the new Callie was rejoining the world. She decided that as soon as Micah left for his next job, she would find an attorney and begin divorce proceedings.

She ventured out for the first time by herselfe in the Golf on Tuesday afternoon. She drove back to the electronics store in Destin and bought Microsoft Office and a computer game that the little Geeky guy recommended. She also signed up for their preferred customer program. She just knew that junk email messages would soon start filling her inbox.

She stopped at another store to buy a few snacks and saw a display for prepaid credit cards. She picked one up and added it to her basket. When she reached the check stand, she loaded the card with $200.

While Callie was out, Micah called and ordered Internet service and an online subscription to the Wall Street Journal. He thought she would be pleased.

Tuesday morning, Bart made a call to the temporary office in East Orange.

"Fincher Fowler & Pratt, may I help you?"

"This is Bart Kramer. I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to work at home again today."

"Yes, sir. I'll update the board."

"Thanks."

Tuesday afternoon, he decided to take a break and go for a little walk. His tail from Fincher Fowler & Pratt was with him. They were joined by their shadow from the FBI. It was like Bart was leading a little parade and he didn't even realize it.

When he got back to the apartment building, he checked the mail. There was a single padded envelope in the box. It had his address and no return address. He opened the envelope on the elevator. Inside the envelope was a necktie. It probably wasn't something he would have chosen, but it was okay. He looked it over and looked into the envelope again. He saw a small piece of note paper in the bottom. By then, the doors were opening on his floor. He stuffed the tie back into the envelope and stepped off the elevator. He walked down the hall to his door, unlocked it and stepped inside. He dropped his keys into the bowl on the table by the door. He sat down on the sofa, pulled the tie and paper out of the envelope again and began to read.

Mr. Kramer,

I'll bet you didn't know you are being followed by Fincher Fowler & Pratt security. They must have doubts about your loyalty. It seems obvious they don't trust you. We should talk. I can help you stay out of jail. You don't have to go down with the rest of them.

When you decide to talk, wear this tie. I'm watching too.  
Your best friend

He put down the note and looked at the tie. He squeezed it all over to make sure it didn't have a listening device embedded in it. Just before five o'clock, his cell phone rang.

"Bart Kramer," he said, a little tentatively.

"Hi, Bart. Frank Laslow here."

Bart exhaled with relief. "Hello, Frank."

"Bart, I need you to come in to the temporary office at Parsippany tomorrow. We need to talk about some of your projects."

The hairs on the back of Bart's neck were starting to stand up. "Alright. Do you have any idea when we will get back into the office. I'm going to need to pick up some more files if I'm going to be able to work off site."

"Jim Lewis was down there yesterday afternoon and there was still a lot of dust and soot outside. He told us there is a lot of dust inside too. The experts, whoever they are, are suggesting that everyone change the HVAC filters daily until there is no visible dust on the filter after one day. I think he had someone start looking for a large supply of filters yesterday. If you will email me a list of the files you need, we'll get HazRecovery to bring them to you."

"What is HazRecovery?"

"It is a company that goes into hazardous areas and retrieves items of value, decontaminates them and delivers them to you. In our case, they pick up the files, put them in this air chamber that blows all the dust off them and filters it out. Then they deliver them to the records warehouse office. It's pricey, but we'll eventually figure out how to charge it back to the clients."

"Where did anyone ever find out about them?"

"Jim Lewis had them on his Rolodex."

"This is going to change everything."

"Yes it is. We'll see you in the morning?"

"Sure."

"Alright. Have a good evening."

Bart hung up the phone and shook his head in disbelief. Frank had not asked him about Callie at all.

The note in his mailbox was disturbing. He was going to have to decide what to do with it. He was not about to mention anything about it over the telephone and he probably wouldn't mention it to Frank at all. He thought Jim Lewis should be the one to talk to. He was always the one that talked to the associates about security. Bart already knew there were listening devices in the apartment. The PI that checked them out thought they were not from the FBI. The note had to be from the Feds. No one else would claim they could help him stay out of jail. If he could just find out about Callie, he would better know what to do. Maybe the feds could help him find out where she was. He didn't have to tell them anything. He could just talk to them and get them to help him. He might even get the firm to play along so he could get some answers.

Whatever he found out about Callie, there was still his nest egg and their savings. If it wasn't for not knowing about Callie, he would take off as soon as he could think of a way to get away from his tail.

Micah was sitting at the dining table looking at his computer when Callie returned from the store. He looked up and smiled. "Hey there, did you find what you were looking for?"

"I did, plus I found a few other things. I bought a prepaid Visa card so I don't have to carry cash all the time."

"That's probably a good idea."

She went to the kitchen to put away the snacks. "What sounds good to you for dinner?"

"I don't know. What about Italian?"

"That sounds good."

"Oh, I almost forgot. I checked on your packages and they have arrived at the terminal."

"When can we go get them?"

"I thought we would wait until in the morning. It is about a two hour drive to Dothan."

Callie got excited. "Do we have to wait until tomorrow? I can't wait to get my clothes from New York."

He looked at his watch. "We can be there by 5:30. If you are sure you want to go this afternoon, we need to get going."

"I do. I need to change clothes first and then I'll be ready to go."

Bart made a list of all the files he needed to work at home. He emailed it to Frank and wondered if he would be working at Parsippany or at home.

The drive to Dothan was uneventful. They stopped on the south side of town at a cafe and went inside. They sat down across from each other in a booth and Micah ordered a glass of iced tea. "Are you sure you want to do it this way?" he asked.

"I think so. Will you be okay to wait here?"

"Sure, I'll be fine. Just go pick up your boxes and come back to pick me up."

"Okay. I'm going to the restroom and then I'll be on my way."

"Text me when you're on your way back and I'll meet you out front."

"It's a plan."

"Good luck."

He watched her as she walked to the restroom with her shopping bag. Five minutes later, he began to wonder if she was okay. Another minute later, the door opened and he nearly choked on his sweet tea. He had no idea she was planning to reprise her role as a punk rock groupie. As she passed his table, she flashed him a killer smile and a wink. He smiled back and and watched as nearly every man in the place, and a few of the women, looked out the window to watch her walk to the truck and climb in. From the way she was walking, he knew she was enjoying the attention.

When she got to the United Shippers Depot, she parked on the first row of parking places in the space furtherest from the door. She walked inside, took off her sunglasses and flashed a smile at the clerk as she handed him the paper with the three tracking numbers. "I need to pick up three parcels." She continued to smile. Her face was almost hurting.

After he stammered, "Wait here, I'll be right back," he disappeared through a set of swinging doors. In a few minutes he found the boxes and returned with them on a dolly. She signed the necessary papers, smiled at him again and asked, "Is there any way I could borrow your dolly?"

"I can do better than that. I can wheel them out to your car for you."

"Oh, I drive a truck."

"That's okay, it's slow around here this afternoon. I can take them to your truck for you."

By the time they reached the truck, she had nearly hypnotized him with the rhinestones on the back pockets of her skin tight jeans.

"I'll be happy to load those for you."

"No thanks. I need the workout."

She turned and took the cart from the clerk and parked it so she could open the driver's side passenger door and walked completely around the dolly. "Can you hold the cart for me?"

"Sure." He stepped right up and held both handles. Facing him, she picked up the top box and then turned around and placed it on the seat. She pushed it across the seat and and stretched until only one foot was on the ground. She climbed up on the seat, gave it a final shove and moaned at the same time. She turned around and slid out of the truck. She then bent at the waist to pick up the next box, using the wrong technique, but with the desired effect. She put it in the backseat and turned to find him smiling. She smiled back and bent over to pick up the last box, then bent her knees and picked it up correctly. She put the last one in the truck and turned to her helper. "I guess that about does it. Thank you so much."

"No problem. Are you going to need any help unloading them?"

She smiled. "No, I think I'll be able to manage."

She closed the passenger door and he was still standing there. She looked at the dolly and then him. She smiled, "Is there something else?"

"Oh, no. I guess I better get back inside and get to work."

"Yes you should." She smiled. He started pulling the hand truck back toward the door. She turned, climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. She saw that he was standing outside and she picked up her purse and began to pretend to look for something. She looked up again and he was still standing on the sidewalk, in front of the door. She put down her purse, smiled at him and waved. When he didn't move, she made a flicking motion. He took the hint and walked inside and closed the metal door. She backed out of the parking place and drove away.

A block from United Shippers, she stopped and took advantage of the heavy tint on the truck windows. She shinnied out of the skin tight jeans and put on the comfortable shorts she was wearing before they stopped at the cafe. She thought about staying with the hooters shirt but decided to change back into something more appropriate. She then sent a text to Micah.

Ten minutes later, she drove the truck into the cafe parking lot. Micah got up from his seat and walked outside. She motioned for him to come around to the driver's side. She moved to the passenger seat as he climbed up into the cab.

He smiled. "There are some very disappointed people in there."

"How so?"

"I'm sure they were hoping the punk rock girl would return for me."

"Oh, that." She grinned.

"How did it go?"

"See," she said, pointing to the boxes in the back seat. "I got them and I doubt seriously that the clerk at United Shippers will remember anything but my tee shirt and jeans."

Micah smiled. "You are a bad, bad woman."

"I know. This is the first time in my life I've been anything but straight laced vanilla. It may be time for me to reinvent myself and have some fun."

He reached up and touched the fake nose ring clipped to her left nostril. Her hand came up and she held his hand against her cheek for a poignant five seconds.

He slowly pulled his hand away. "When you reinvent yourself, don't forget your old dull friends."

She reached over and put her hand on his. "My friend, you are certainly not dull. I promise, I will never forget you."

Two minutes later they were on the road back to Florida. Before they got out of town, she looked at the papers she had signed and asked, "Where did you come up with the name and address of the business I used?"

"You like that?"

"It was unique."

"I've got a buddy that lives up here. He is in Real Estate. I called him in July and asked him to look around for some possible locations for an office. I told him I was thinking about moving to a location that was a little less vulnerable to tropical storms and hurricanes. He came back with a half dozen addresses. In August, I told him I had changed my mind and decided not to move. I used the address of one of those vacant business locations. Barker's Snip and Clip was my idea."

"You think I should become a dog groomer?"

"It could work." He laughed.

Chapter 20

Wednesday, September 20, 2001

Bart's alarm blasted him out of bed a few minutes before his regular time. He had never driven to Parsippany on a weekday during the morning rush. It was only 30 miles but he didn't know what to expect as far as drive time. He showered, dressed, gathered his files and headed to his car.

At 6:30, the car that had been parked across the street all weekend, pulled out to follow him. This time he noticed. He thought about trying to give them the slip, but ultimately decided it was best that they didn't figure out that he knew he was being followed.

Micah opened his eyes and rolled over to see what time it was. The clock showed 6:43. He hadn't set an alarm. For a few seconds he wondered why he was awake so early. It was still over a week before he had to start thinking about his next job. He was definitely still in vacation mode. When he was in vacation mode, he didn't get up early unless he had a really good reason. All at once he knew why he was awake. He heard a noise that sounded like metal scraping metal. A few seconds later he heard muffled laughter and the metal scraping sound again. He had to investigate. He slipped out of bed quietly and started for his door when he remembered Callie was in his guest bedroom. He picked up a pair of pants from the floor and pulled them on. He saw a metal vase on the dresser. He grabbed it by the neck to use as a weapon and dumped the silk flowers on the dresser. Slowly he opened his door and stepped into the living room. He saw light coming from under Callie's door. He crept up to the door and listened. He heard a gasp, gave the door knob a quick twist and sprang into the room with the vase held high.

"What are you doing?" She almost yelled as she reached for her robe and turned away from him.

He turned back toward the door. "I heard noises. It sounded like metal scraping metal. I guess it woke me up. I got up and then I heard you gasp."

She turned around as she finished tying the belt of her robe. She looked at him and smiled. "You can turn around now. I woke up and was looking at the clothes we picked up yesterday. I was putting them on hangers and sliding them across the rod." She turned and pulled the black dress she had worn to the dance on Saturday night at the reunion out of the closet and held it up. "I must have gasped when I realized I had brought this dress. I had forgotten that I decided to bring it. She smiled as she held the dress up and looked in the mirror."

"You looked spectacular in that dress."

"She looked from the dress to him in surprise. How did you know?" She was puzzled and her face showed it. "You know you can put that vase down now."

He looked very serious and lowered the vase. "I wanted to see you one last time before the weekend was over so I slipped in to the dance for a few minutes. I was there early and I saw you when you walked in. I think every one of the popular girls turned green with envy, or red with anger because you were the most beautiful woman in the room. I left pretty soon because I didn't want us to be seen together."

"I had no idea," she said. She got misty eyed and thought, "This man is so caring. I have never had someone take such good care of me, and look out for me, ever."

Before it got any more uncomfortable or warm in the bedroom, he forced a smile and said, "Well, I'm going back to bed now that I've made a fool of myself." He turned, stepped through the door and pulled it closed behind him. He took a deep breath and returned to his bedroom and closed that door. It was comforting to have a second closed door between him and the red haired goddess in his spare bedroom. He walked to the bathroom and looked at the man staring back at him in the mirror. He shook his head. I have tried my best to not know what was under that robe of hers. Oh, my gosh. I may never be able to close my eyes to sleep without seeing the image of her standing at the end of her bed in that gown. I am in so much trouble.

Most of the members of the Fincher Fowler & Pratt investigation team were assigned to the World Trade Center task force as soon as it became clear that it was no accident. The team was reduced to Maddox, Waters and two junior agents for a week. While Bart Kramer was in Denver, agents from the Denver office kept an eye on him. On his return trip to New York, an agent from Denver shadowed him on the California Zephyr to Chicago and someone from the Chicago office shadowed him to New York on the Lake Shore Limited. Since he had been home, Agents Maddox and Waters had tried to keep tabs on him with too few assets. They even had to spend some time at the stake out, themselves. Fortunately for them, he had become a homebody since returning from Denver. It bothered Maddox that no one had been following Callie Kramer on Tuesday morning. If it hadn't been for a required Sensitivity Training course, they would know where she was today.

Wednesday morning, Maddox was notified they were getting part of their team back. They were still going to be understaffed, but with Callie Kramer's whereabouts unknown, they could concentrate all their assets on Bart Kramer. Their first order of business was to hold a meeting and get reorganized. When everyone was assembled in the conference room, Trent Maddox began the briefing.

"Good morning. We have missed some of you guys this week. While you have been busy with other things, Sam, Reggie, Len and I have been busy too. This is what we know. Monday afternoon, a week ago, Mrs. Kramer withdrew $138,000 from two of their joint bank accounts. It now appears that she was planning to leave her husband.

"Does he know the money is gone yet?"

Trent looked to Sam Waters. He answered the question. "We don't think so. None of the banks have reported any inquiries from him."

Maddox continued. "On Monday night she booked a ticket on a flight to Belize, departing Tuesday evening at 8:30. It now appears that was a diversion. We now know she was planning to take Amtrak to California. On Tuesday morning, due to a scheduling problem, there was no tail on Mrs. Kramer. We have no information on her until she got a refund on her Amtrak ticket at around ten o'clock on Tuesday morning at Penn Station."

Maddox nodded to Waters and he picked up the briefing. "I ran a check on Callie Kramer and found out she has an old Visa account in the name of Callie Simon from before she was married. I checked on it and found out the account had been inactive since 1996 until she began to use it again this past June. She used it on a trip to Tennessee in mid June. There was an airplane ticket to Knoxville, a car rental, and a hotel charge in Greeneville, TN. Then, on Sunday, September ninth, she used it again to purchase the Amtrak ticket. It was one way, to Sacramento. It was refunded to the card on the eleventh at Penn Station. She used the credit card again to stay the night of the eleventh at the Hotel Pennsylvania. There has been no activity since then. When the mass transit system shut down on Tuesday, we lost track of her." Waters looked back to Maddox.

Maddox looked at the group. "Unfortunately we currently have no idea as to the whereabouts of Callie Kramer. One more thing about Mrs. Kramer. She is smart and has a little mean streak."

"How so?" one of the agents asked.

"The ticket to Belize was first class and nonrefundable. It was charged to their joint credit card."

There were a few laughs around the table. The lone female agent, Joy Sargent, said, "Too bad the flights were all canceled and she didn't get to stick it to him."

One of the other agents said, "You said we don't know where she is. What do we know about her?"

"That's a good question," Maddox began, "We know that she was not at work last Tuesday. We know she is currently missing, because she has chosen to drop out of sight. That is what we know. We also have some suspicions. We suspect that she planned to leave her husband last Tuesday. We suspect he doesn't know of her intention to leave him. We suspect that he is probably starting to believe she could be dead and we may be able to use that to our advantage."

A hand was raised, "Do you think she could still be in the city?"

"She could be, but I doubt it. She has now had a week to get out of town. We need to check with the car rental companies to see if she rented a car under the name Callie Kramer or Callie Simon. She wouldn't have been able to do that without it showing up on her credit cards unless she has access to another credit card that we don't know about. We also need to check with the bus lines, Amtrak, and even the airlines to see if she bought a ticket for cash. We know she has plenty of cash."

"She could have bought a car."

"That is a possibility. Ted, I would like for you to check that out."

"Yes, sir."

"What do we do with Mr. Kramer?"

"We keep watching him. We have noticed that there is someone else watching him too. We have learned it is someone from Fincher Fowler & Pratt.

"Why would they want to follow their own guy?"

"Simple. They realize he is vulnerable right now, just like we do. They obviously don't trust him and they are worried we might get to him."

"There is one more thing." Maddox passed around photos of a necktie to everyone at the table. "Bart Kramer received an invitation for a meeting yesterday, from his best friend, yours truly. I told him he is being watched by his own firm. I may send additional invitations if he doesn't respond pretty soon. When he wants a meeting I told him to wear the tie. We need to all be on the lookout for this tie." He held up the picture.

Sam Waters picked up the conversation. "We need him to think his wife is dead, at least until we can find her. As long as he thinks she's dead, he won't be looking for her and he won't hire someone to look for her. We don't want to lead him or his hires to her. If we can find her while he still thinks she's dead, I almost guarantee we can get her to give him to us. He has obviously fallen off her top ten list."

Maddox once again joined the conversation, this time as the devil's advocate. "Unless they both know exactly what the other is doing and it is a plan for them to both disappear."

Waters said, "I'll make a call and see if we can get her listed on the victims list."

Maddox nodded agreement. "Now we just have to find her."

Waters then stood. "Ladies and Gentlemen, it is time to get back to work. I realize you are still short handed, but you don't have to watch her, so you should be able to handle this assignment. Talk to the neighbors and businesses in their neighborhood. This morning would be a good time for that. Mr. Kramer was observed leaving the house and from the latest report is at the Fincher Fowler & Pratt temporary office in Parsippany, NJ. Someone also needs to talk to the people at that self storage place."

Trent looked around the table. "Does anyone have questions?"

There was silence. "Okay, let's get to work."

When Bart arrived at Mr. Pratt's home in Parsippany, it was easy to tell there were other activities going on. He drove around the house and down the hill to the metal building with cars parked beside it. The side of what amounted to a small warehouse that faced the house was covered with a rock and brick facade to complement the house. He opened the door and stepped into an office of sorts.

One of the receptionists looked up and smiled. "Good morning, Mr. Kramer. Mr. Laslow is expecting you. You will find him through that door, turn left and go all the way to the corner. He and his associates are over there."

Bart followed her directions and walked through the door, but not before reading a prominently placed sign on the door. "DO NOT TOUCH, LEAN ON OR PLACE ANYTHING ON OR WITHIN TEN FEET OF ANY AUTOMOBILE. – E. Pratt" When he stepped into the warehouse it had a totally different look from the one time he had visited. The automobiles had been rearranged to serve as dividers of sorts. Between the cars, no closer than ten feet to them were makeshift offices. It was clear the automobiles were not to be touched. On each car window was a copy of the sign on the entry door.

Frank looked up from his folding table desk. "Good morning, Bart."

"Good morning, Frank."

"Have a seat," he said and pointed to a folding chair.

As Bart sat down he said, "I know you're probably tired of people asking, but how are you holding up?"

"As long as I stay busy, I'm okay. At night, when all my work is done and I'm at home alone, surrounded by all the things that Callie and I have accumulated over the years, everything seems to close in. Honestly, I'm not sleeping much. I don't want Callie to be gone, but after a week of not knowing what happened to her, I'm beginning to think if I knew she was gone it would somehow be easier to accept the situation and move on." He paused for a second. "That's probably more than you wanted to know."

"I wouldn't say that. It's just that we've never had to deal with a situation like yours and we don't know what to say or do."

"I don't know what to say or do either. It's difficult for me, but when people ask about me or Callie it lets me know they haven't forgotten about her. That is some comfort."

Frank was clearly uncomfortable as he sat behind his desk. He had received a call the afternoon before, instructing him to have Bart come to the office on Wednesday morning. Bart's situation had been a topic of discussion around the office by partners, associates and staff alike. He was probably fortunate to have been in Denver on Tuesday, because the people at Fincher Fowler & Pratt did not know how to deal with the kind of inner turmoil Bart was experiencing. While he was away he was out of sight and out of mind. They didn't have to decide what to do with him. He was a productive, loyal member of the team, but they worried that his loyalties might now change. There was a faction at the highest levels of the firm that now saw him as a liability. They saw him as a man with a weakness. There was another faction that felt they should embrace him and try to support him in his time of need. Frank moved on to the business at hand. "I got your email with your list of files. I sent it to HazRecovery yesterday afternoon. They said they would get them to you as quick as they can."

"How long does it usually take?"

"If we ask for them by noon, we get them by nine the next morning."

"So, where is everyone working, these days?"

"Mr. Pratt is in his office up there in the house. Mr. Fowler and Mr. Fincher rented a house about a mile from here. Bill, Judy and I are setup with our associates in this building. Tom, Scott and their associates are at the records warehouse."

"Who, besides me is working at home?"

Frank had hoped to avoid that question. "I'm not certain. I know you are the only one of my group working from home. I was told there are some others in some of the other groups. At this point, we think we will be back downtown pretty soon. It will be good to get everyone back under the same roof."

He paused to catch his breath and continued, "Bart, one of the reasons that I asked you to come out here this morning is that Jim Lewis would like to talk with you. You know that Jim is in charge of HR, security and travel."

"Yes, I know Jim."

"He asked me to bring you up to his office when you got here. He has an office above the garage in the main house." They both stood and started walking toward the house, and Jim's office. Frank entered the garage through a door in the back and led Bart up the stairs to what amounted to an apartment above the garage.

Frank knocked on the door and opened it a crack. "Jim, I've got Bart here."

In a few seconds, Jim pulled the door open wide. Frank smiled and said, "Come and see me when you get finished here."

Jim stepped aside and said, "Come on in Bart. I'm glad you could make it this morning."

Bart instantly thought, "I really didn't know I had much choice in the matter." He tried not to show it, but he began to feel apprehensive. He said, "It's been a while since I've been here. Mr. Pratt has a nice place."

"Bart, come in and have a seat." Jim smiled a little too broadly and waved him into the room. Bart looked around. Jim definitely had the better of the temporary office spaces. He wondered what this room was used for when it wasn't an office. Jim Lewis was not a partner, but this was a far better situation than Frank Laslow and the rest of the junior partners were enduring in the car barn. He had a real desk and chair, a little round conference table and a sofa. He led Bart to the sofa and motioned for him to sit. Jim took a seat across from him in a wingback chair. Jim sat up much higher than Bart. When they were both seated, Jim looked down at Bart and began to talk.

He smiled again and that made Bart even more suspicious. "Bart, as you know, I am in charge of security at the firm as well as HR and travel. I take my security responsibilities very seriously. The senior partners have asked me to talk with you this morning. I don't need to remind you that what we say here does not leave this room." He looked to Bart as if he expected him to respond.

Bart nodded and said, "Sure."

Jim paused for a second or two and then continued, "As you no doubt know, from time to time, the Feds take note of the financial success we are achieving for our clients and want to believe we are doing something unlawful. Then they begin to nose around and try to contrive bogus cases against us and our clients. Occasionally they even try to recruit someone from the firm to help them with their cowardly plots. Every time so far, we have been able to prevail, much to their displeasure. They don't like it when we beat them. Everything we do at Fincher Fowler & Pratt is legal. The tax laws may not always be as some representative intended, but they are what they are. We know the laws and we operate within them. I don't have to tell you that. You've been around long enough to know that we do things the right way."

Jim waited for a few seconds. "Bart, it is not my intention to do all the talking this morning."

"Okay."

"Bart, at the present time, with you not knowing the status of your wife, we are concerned about you and concerned for you."

"I appreciate that."

"We want to let you know that the Feds may get the idea they can take advantage of you, in your current situation."

"For what?" Bart asked the question to keep Jim talking.

"We have seen this before. They have tried to lure our partners and associates into helping them put together their bogus cases."

"Can they do that?"

"They have tried in the past and I am sure they will try again. They are the worst kind of zealots. They are not to be trusted. They will tell you anything to lure you into their lair of deceit. If they try to contact you, they will most likely tell you that there are people here involved in illegal activities and they can help you stay out of jail. We don't need anyone's help to stay out of jail. We know the recommendations we make to our clients are all perfectly legal and above board."

As Jim spoke, Bart began to think about life and his future. At Singleton, Rogers and Judd they never had conversations like this. There was no need for them. Since coming to Fincher Fowler & Pratt, he had worked an average of over sixty hours a week, and what had it done for him? Sure, the money was better than he had ever dreamed, but to make all that money, he had ignored Callie and now he might not get the opportunity to make it up to her. Maybe it was time to look into doing something else. Maybe he should get out now, if he could. He didn't even know if it was possible.

"Do you really think they will try to contact me?" he asked, knowing they already had. He wondered if Jim knew.

"I would say that it is fairly certain they will attempt to make contact with you. We are pretty sure the FBI is already following you."

"Really? How do you know?"

"As a precaution, we have had some of our security people watching out for you. We were concerned that the FBI might try to compromise you when you were vulnerable."

"What do you mean, vulnerable?"

"With the your wife's status unknown, they may think you would be more receptive to their approach."

"What do you recommend if they try to make contact?"

"You've got my cell number, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Call me anytime, day or night."

"What about bugs and wiretaps and tails and stuff like that?"

"You've been watching too many spy movies. I think you can pretty much forget about those things. The FBI is usually more direct."

"Jim, I hope you're wrong. I hope they leave me alone. Right now, I'm going through a tough time. That is all. I'm sure it's temporary. Any day now, I expect Callie to walk through the front door of our apartment and explain why she couldn't get in touch with me sooner."

"Bart, I hope you're right. Do you have any questions for me?"

"No, not really, but if I think of something, will it be alright for me to call you directly?"

"Absolutely. Any time, day or night."

Jim waited like he was expecting a response from Bart. When it didn't come, he said, "I don't want to rush you off, but I have a meeting with Mr. Pratt in a few minutes."

The truth was, he was doing exactly that, and Bart knew it. "How much of this can I discuss with Frank?"

"I'm sorry. None of it. As I said, what is discussed in this office must stay in this office."

"I understand," he said, not quite convinced. Bart went back downstairs and over to the car barn.

Frank was apparently watching for Bart and spotted him when he stepped into the barn. He stood up from his chair and intercepted him before he reached any of the other associates. "Can we talk, outside?"

"Sure, you're the boss." They walked outside.

"Which way to your car?" Frank asked.

Bart pointed to it and they walked that way. "I didn't want to say this in front of the others. You are going to get to continue working from home."

"I don't mind driving out here."

"It's not necessary. We don't believe it's going to be like this much longer. They are saying that we will be able to return to the office by the middle of next week. Work at home, enjoy not having to put on a suit and tie to talk on the phone. I called to check on your files. You should have them by four thirty tomorrow afternoon."

Chapter 21

After lunch, Callie helped Micah with the dishes. When they finished, she said, "You know, I haven't tried out the pool yet."

"It's pretty nice, if you want to swim and you're not looking for wave action."

"I'm going to go down and try it out. You want to come too?"

"No, not this time. I need to make some calls."

"Okay, if you change your mind, you know where I'll be."

Callie disappeared into her room to change. Micah sat down on the sofa beside the telephone. In a few minutes she walked back to the kitchen to get a cold drink to take to the pool. She was wearing a cover up, but it wasn't buttoned at all and her black bikini was suddenly all he saw. He hoped his mouth didn't drop open. He really needed her to go on down to the pool, quickly. When she disappeared around the corner in the kitchen, he took advantage of his opportunity to walk out on the balcony. When he heard the front door close, he went back inside. With his mind made up, he called the contact for his next job.

"Hello."

"Hello, this is Micah Marsh. Could I speak to Nelson Newton?"

"This is he."

"Mr. Newton, I am scheduled to be at your Lubbock plant on October 3rd."

"Yes, that's right."

"Mr. Newton, I was wondering if we could move your project up to September 24th."

"Let me check the calendar." There was a slight pause. "You want to move it up to next Monday?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry. That's only five days from now. I can't possibly get all the equipment and support people you require on site in five days. I would like to help you out, but you have to understand. Those people are already scheduled for other jobs next week."

"Alright, it's not that big of a deal. I'll see you on the date we originally scheduled."

"Okay, Mr. Marsh. I wish I could have moved things up for you."

"That's okay."

Micah hung up the phone.

"Boy oh boy oh boy," he said, to the empty room. "This honorable gentleman thing is tough when the woman you've always wanted is living in the same house with you and sleeping in the next room."

As he thought about the situation, he remembered a follow up visit he needed to schedule for a plant in southeastern Oklahoma. He got on the phone and set it up for Tuesday, September, 25. He went to his room, changed into his workout clothes and went downstairs.

An hour later, he returned to the condo, totally exhausted from his workout. He took a shower, dressed and stepped out on the balcony. He walked to the railing and looked down to the pool in time to see Callie heading back to the condo. He sat down on his lounge chair and hoped she would change clothes before he saw her again. He absolutely enjoyed watching her but did not need the thoughts that flashed through his mind when he was near her and she was not fully dressed.

Wednesday morning, without the files he needed, there wasn't much Bart could do at home that was work related. He thought about the tie and note he stashed under the bottom shelf of the kitchen pantry. He pulled the envelope from its hiding place and read the note again. It said he was being followed by someone from Fincher Fowler & Pratt. He had noticed the black Chevy behind him this morning, but when he came back he didn't see it and it wasn't parked out front when he looked out front at one o'clock. He decided to try to see for himself if he was being followed. He re-hid the package and changed into a pair of sweats. Before he went down stairs, he went to his bedroom and pulled out their new digital camera. He walked to the front window and snapped pictures of the cars on both sides of the street in front of their building. Then he headed down stairs for a run.

When he reached the sidewalk, he paused to stretch. As he stretched, he scanned both sides of the street for anyone or anything that looked suspicious. He ran down the block, turned left, ran another block and turned left again. He turned left at the next two corners and was back in front the building. There was an empty parking space and he noted the vehicle in front and behind it. He ran on past the building and ran to the park. Inside the park, he ran past a drinking fountain. Fifty yards later he suddenly turned around and returned for a drink. He didn't spot anyone, so he walked home. He checked the pictures he took before his run and noted that a late model blue Oldsmobile was missing. He made a note on his calendar.

At three thirty, there was a knock at Bart's door. When he opened the door he found a uniformed woman with a two wheel cart. "I'm from HazRecovery." She looked at a notebook. "I have a delivery for Bart Kramer."

He smiled and thought, "She is cute, even in her uniform." He was immediately angry with himself. With Callie missing, he shouldn't even be noticing women. "That's me," he said.

"Where would you like it?"

"Just inside the door is fine."

"I can put them anywhere you like and save you the trouble. There are," she looked back at the clipboard, "fifty-six pounds of it."

"Okay, bring it back here." He led her to the office and flipped on the light. "Just inside the door will be fine."

She wheeled the cart inside the office and set the crates on the floor. Bart signed a receipt. She gave him a copy and left. After she left, he returned to turn off the light in the office. He glanced around the room and saw the stack of junk mail from Saturday on the desk. He remembered an envelope in the junk stack, addressed to him with no return address. He quickly sorted through the stack, pulled the envelope and tossed the rest of the junk mail on the desk. He looked it over carefully, front and back. He found his letter opener in the top drawer and slit open the top.

With anxious anticipation, he pulled the single sheet of notebook paper from the envelope and unfolded it. His heart leaped with joy when he saw the words in Callie's handwriting and sank into the depths of despair when he read the words.

9-10-2001

Dear Bart,

For quite some time, you'll have to admit our marriage has been deteriorating and we have been drifting apart. Unfortunately, our different views on children in our future appear to be insurmountable. I have come to the conclusion that if I ever hope to have children, I must move on. It is now time for me to go. Please don't try to find me. My attorney will be in touch in the near future to work out the details.  
I wish things had turned out differently.

Callie

Bart Kramer had never been more affected by a single sheet of paper. Tears began to flow before he got to the end of the first line. The first time he read it, he couldn't believe his eyes. His heart ached when he admitted to himself that he had made her so unhappy. In a few minutes, he went back and reread the note. This time, he noticed the date, 9-10-2001. There was a high probability that she mailed it on her way to work on September 11th and never made it home. He sat and pondered that for a while and reread the note again. The content of the note was no great surprise after he got over the initial shock. After he gave it serious thought, he had to agree with everything she said.

He had returned home from Denver with the intention of making things right with Callie. Now he knew he would never have the opportunity. He felt another pang of guilt when he remembered he had not even said goodbye when he left for Denver. He honestly couldn't remember the last time they had been affectionate. He couldn't remember the last time they kissed. He now realized they were over. A deep sadness settled over him. Dinner time passed and he was still sitting in his chair. He reached over and turned on a light and reread the note again. There was nothing new, just so many questions left unanswered. It was the same words that he had now read too many times to count.

When the anxiety of his discovery began to fade and he was no longer looking at the world through a blur of tears, he logically began to wonder what her plans had been. She must have been planning to leave sometime while he was in Denver. He re-read the note several more times looking for clues. There wasn't much to go on. He began to wonder what and when and how she was going to do whatever it was that she had planned. He had known her long enough and well enough to know that she didn't just get up on September 10th and decide to leave him. She must have had a plan. Knowing her, it had been a good one.

He walked to their bedroom and opened the door to her closet to take a look inside. He looked up on the shelf. Her suitcase was in its usual location. He pushed on it from below. It felt empty. It didn't appear that her clothes were all there, but he couldn't be sure. For all he knew, she had donated some of her clothes to charity. He hadn't been in her closet since he put her suitcase back on the top shelf after he returned from Denver in June.

He returned to the living room and sat down to try to think things through. As he thought about the good times they had shared and how long it had been since they had actually had any good times, he admitted to himself that her note was right. They had grown distant. As he sat thinking about their situation, he felt a transition start. For days, he had been afraid to speculate on her fate. Now, all of the sudden, he discovered that the woman that was missing had been planning to leave him. At some point later on that evening, there was an ah, ha moment when he realized it was much more convenient for him if she was in that pile of rubble in lower Manhattan. She had been planning to leave and divorce him. Now she and the divorce were off the table. If she was alive, he would have been forced to deal with a divorce that he said he would never give her. He would also have had to deal with the embarrassment of a failed marriage in the eyes of the partners at the firm. Instead, he was now the poor widowed associate. In a divorce, who knew what wild accusations she would have made.

Over the next few hours, he realized this whole awful mess might not be so bad after all. He might be able to work it to his advantage. He also realized he was going to have to be careful about how he reacted publicly and privately to the loss of his wife. A few hours earlier, he had been almost devastated. Now when he thought about the embarrassment and devastation she had been about to inflict on him, he felt he was pretty lucky the way things turned out.

At the end of the day, he felt fairly content and optimistic about his future. He dropped off to sleep thinking that he would need to be careful to show just the right amount of grief and sadness for an appropriate period of time.

Thursday September 21, 2001

When she woke up, Callie smelled coffee. She put on her robe and went to the kitchen for a cup. She saw Micah sitting on the balcony and joined him.

As she stepped through the door, he said, "Good morning, sleepy head."

She grinned. "I'm not a sleepy head. It's 7:30, for heaven's sake."

He smiled and teased, "When I'm on the road, I'm always up before now."

She shot right back. "In my previous life, I was usually at work by this time."

He looked at her with genuine concern. "Are you going to be alright when I leave to go back to work in a few days?"

She found herself suddenly forced back to reality. "I think so. I'm thinking about taking up photography. I saw a flier for a photography class when I was at the electronics store the other day. Classes start Friday."

"Where?"

"At the community center."

"What about your name?"

"It's not that kind of course. I called about it and he said he is a retired photographer and most of the students are retirees also. He said I could come and try it before I decide if I want to enroll."

"That should keep you busy."

"That is what I'm thinking. Do you want to hear something strange?"

"I suppose."

"I woke up this morning thinking that I should go ahead and start divorce proceedings. There is no reason for me to let Bart hold me hostage after I've made my exit from his life."

"I think that's great. You know I think you deserve to be happy."

She was certain he meant every word.

Bart woke up Thursday morning with a random thought. "I wonder if Callie took the money I taped to the bottom of the clothes hamper." He got out of bed, walked to the hamper, turned it over and looked at the bottom. There was some tape adhesive residue, but nothing else. He smiled and walked to the bathroom. To the man in the mirror, he grinned and said, "Compared to what it would have cost me otherwise, that was the best $3000 I ever spent."

At their daily briefing, the Fincher Fowler & Pratt investigation team talked about their progress. The team had been able to learn several things on Wednesday. Agent Maddox began the rundown. "Callie Kramer got her hair cut very short on Sunday, September 9th. She told the stylist she was going to Belize on Tuesday. Tuesday morning, she arranged to ship three boxes via United Shippers, to herself at a business called Barker's Snip and Clip in Dothan, Alabama. She subsequently arranged to have the shipment held for her at the depot and picked it up on Tuesday, September 18th. Unfortunately, the delivery address was for a vacant building in a strip shopping center and no one has ever heard of Barker's Snip and Clip. I remind you, we said she is very smart. I talked to the agent that interviewed the clerk at United Shippers. The clerk wasn't much help. The agent said he was about twenty-five years old and when she showed up to pick up her boxes she was wearing a pair of skin tight blue jeans with fancy rhinestone stuff on the back pockets and she was wearing a very tight Hooters tee shirt. He couldn't tell our agent what kind of vehicle she was driving or if anyone was with her. He said her hair was short, but he couldn't describe anything else about her except for a nose ring. Yesterday afternoon, after Bart Kramer got back from Parsippany he worked for a while and then went for a run. Judging from his behavior, he was looking for a tail or tails. We are hoping he was trying to verify that someone is really following him. We still haven't seen my favorite tie. Callie Kramer has been added to the list of victims. Mr. Kramer should start being contacted by Social Service Agencies offering assistance and lawyers looking for a pay day. We still don't think he knows she cleaned out their bank accounts. Any questions?"

"Do we have a picture of Mrs. Kramer?"

"Not a current one."

"Does United Shippers have security cameras?"

"I'll get someone to check."

In the mail Thursday afternoon, Bart received a notice of Insufficient Funds. He took one look at the notice and knew it couldn't be right. He knew there was over $9000 in that account. It had to be a mistake. He called the bank, but they were already closed for the day.

Thursday afternoon Callie came in from laying out at the pool. When she stepped through the door, she shouted. "Micah, are you here?"

He was in his bedroom and walked into the living room to see what was going on. "What's up?"

"Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"No."

"Good. I want to treat you to a steak dinner tonight. How long will it take you to get ready?"

"Not as long as you," he grinned.

"We'll see about that." She quickly disappeared into her bedroom.

Thirty minutes later Callie stepped out on the balcony. "Are you ready to go?"

Micah turned around. "Oh, my goodness. You look sensational. "

"Thank you."

"You've been shopping. I don't remember seeing that before."

"It was in the clothes I shipped from New York."

"It may not be new but it still looks great."

She smiled again. "Thanks, you know how to turn a girl's head."

"Maybe I should go change my clothes."

"Maybe you should step it up a little bit."

"I'll be right back."

He returned in five minutes. Together they made quite a pair. She wore a white sun dress. He stepped out in dressy black dress shorts and a maroon golf shirt.

"Where is the best place to get a steak around here?"

"I know just the place. What is the occasion?"

"You have been putting up with me for over a week now and I want to express my appreciation. Plus, for some reason, today I am feeling better about the prospects for my future."

Micah drove to a steak and seafood restaurant that was located on the beach. They sat on the deck for dinner and watched the sunset as they shared a piece of Key Lime Pie. It was not his intention, but their surroundings were very romantic. Neither of them said anything about it, but they both noticed.

When they got back to the condo, Callie said, "Let's go for a walk." She took him by the hand and led him to the beach. When they stepped off the board walk, she said, "Give me your shoes." She held out her hand and he handed them over. She slipped one of her shoes into each of his and slid them under a section of the board walk. "There, they should be safe until we get back."

He squeezed her hand. "Yes, but am I safe with you?"

She laughed. "You'll never know unless you take a chance."

He turned to look at the waves. Under his breath, and under cover of the sound of crashing waves, he said, "I would gladly take a chance with you."

"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't hear you."

"Never mind. It wasn't important."

When they got to the water's edge, she said, "Come on, let's get out in the water." She led him into the water far enough that the waves just barely lapped at their calves.

They walked close to a half mile before she stopped. "Micah, thank you so much for your encouragement and support. I know I've still got a lot of obstacles ahead, but I am happier tonight than I've been for years."

"I'm so glad I decided to go to the reunion."

"Me too. We better head back now. It is getting late and I might wake up in the morning and think of something important to do."

He laughed and turned around. "Let's go back then."

They continued to walk hand in hand to the condo. When they got back up stairs, Callie said, "I'm thirsty, would you like something to drink too?"

"Sure."

"I'll bring it out to the balcony."

"Why the balcony?"

"Because you go out there, every single night."

"I like it there."

"I'm beginning to figure that out."

In a few minutes, Callie stepped through the door with two glasses of iced tea. She handed him his glass and sat down in the chair beside him. It was beautiful night. After a while she stood up and stepped to the balcony railing. In a few minutes, Micah joined her. They looked out at the dark surface of the Gulf. "Micah, would you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Would you give me a hug?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I know it's a lot to ask, but I haven't had a good hug in at least a couple years."

"I don't see that there would be any harm in giving a friend a hug."

They tentatively turned toward each other. It seemed awkward at first. They both held their arms out like they were new on roller skates and afraid of falling. They each took steps toward one another and made contact. When they did, their arms easily wrapped around each other. They stood in the moonlight nearly a minute. Then she said. "I better go in now." After a few more intense moments, they dropped the hug and she disappeared through the door. He was afraid to follow her inside until he heard the sound of her door closing.

Chapter 22

Friday morning, the first thing on Bart's agenda was to straighten out the little problem at the bank. Routinely dealing with wire transfers of hundreds of thousands, and even millions of dollars between accounts, allowed him to not get overly excited about the bank making the error that resulted in the Insufficient Funds Notice in his mailbox. He fixed his breakfast and ate better than he had in a week. He made a note to get out to a grocery store sometime before the weekend, which meant today.

At nine o'clock he turned on the TV in the living room, went into the third bedroom, closed the door and sat on the bed. He looked up the number for Metropolitan Trust and Bank. "Customer service please," he said, when someone answered the phone.

After a minute or so on hold, someone came on the line. "Customer service, my name Staci. How may I help you, this morning?"

"Good morning, Staci. This is Bart Kramer. I seem to have a problem with my account."

"Can you give me your account number?"

"Absolutely." Bart gave her the account number.

"Now what is the nature of the problem Mr. Kramer? Oh, I think I see. Mr. Kramer, your account is overdrawn."

"It can't be. There has to be at least $9000 in that account."

"Right now I'm showing a balance of -$856.76."

"What? There is no way that is right!"

"It appears that there have been several small checks that have been covered, and one check for $5200 that was returned for insufficient funds. Let me look back and see a little of the history."

"You do that!"

"Please sir, let's just stay calm."

"That's easy for you to say. No one is telling you you're almost $900 overdrawn and have a $5200 bounced check."

"Mr. Kramer, I think I have found an explanation for your problem."

"Don't you mean your problem. Did you find the error?"

"Mr. Kramer, on September 10, there was a withdrawal from your checking in the amount of $8000."

"I was out of town that day. I didn't withdraw anything."

"I see that it is a joint account. I suggest you check with your wife to ask her about the withdrawal."

"I can't! She is buried under that pile of rubble that was the World Trade Center!"

"I am so sorry, sir. There is really nothing that I can do. I am looking at a copy of the check she wrote for cash, on the 10th."

"Surely she got a cashier's check and it can be canceled."

"I'm afraid not. The note on the transaction says that it was a cash withdrawal."

"Who does that?"

"Sir, I don't know the answer to that question."

There was silence on the line.

"Mr. Kramer?"

"What?"

"There is the matter of the negative balance of $856.76. When can we expect you to deposit funds to cover your negative balance?"

"I'm not at all sure. I'm going to have to see what the conniving tramp did to the rest of our accounts. I'll have to let you know." He slammed the phone down and stared out the window.

Bart's next call was to the United Mercantile Trust where they had a joint account that Callie would not know about because he signed the signature card for her. He arranged to transfer ten thousand dollars to the checking account. In ten minutes, the checking account was healthy again.

He took a deep breath and began to think. He decided he better call First Brooklyn Savings and check on the other account. He dialed the number and waited for an answer.

"First Brooklyn Savings Bank. This is Miranda, how may I help you?"

"This is Bart Kramer. I need to check the balance of an account."

"Do you have your account number?"

"Yes of course." He slowly gave the account number.

"Just a second and I'll have that balance for you." After a few seconds of silence, she said, "Mr. Kramer, your balance as of close of business yesterday was three thousand, six hundred, fifty-nine dollars and fifty-four cents. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Bart could feel rage building within him. He took three or four deep breaths before he spoke again. "When was the last withdrawal from that account?"

"There was a $130,000 withdrawal on September 10th."

"Was it in cash?"

"Why, yes it was."

There was silence for several seconds. "Mr. Kramer, is there anything else I can do for you?"

"I don't think so. I'm not sure anyone can."

He hung up the phone and Miranda asked herself, "I wonder what he meant by that?"

There was a knock on Trent Maddox's office door. He looked up. Sam Waters stood at the door smiling.

"Spill it. What's going on?"

"He knows."

"Who knows?"

"Bart Kramer now knows his wife pulled $138,000 from two of their accounts on September 10th."

"I'll bet life is going to be interesting for him for a while. Wouldn't you like to be a fly on the wall in his apartment about now?"

"That reminds me. We were able to get the apartment across the street. They got it setup last night."

"What are they running?"

"Video and still cameras. They also brought in some directional microphones that are supposed to be pretty good. It might be interesting to take a ride over there and see if we can see what our buddy Bart is up to this afternoon."

"Let's go."

At noon Callie returned to the condo. Micah was making lunch. "How was class?"

"It is so interesting. I had no idea there was so much to photography."

"Does this mean you are going to do it?"

"Oh yes, I definitely am."

"You're going to need a camera now aren't you?"

"I am. James, that's my instructor's name, said he would look at some catalogs he has at home and make some recommendations."

"That's good. How expensive is it going to be?"

"He said I can spend as much or as little as I want. It just depends on how serious I want to be."

When he got off the phone with Metropolitan Trust, Bart thought he was mad. He was able to quickly cover the bad checks with a transfer from another bank. A few minutes later, when he got off the phone with First Brooklyn, he was seething. The good news was that the $240,000 plus dollars in the United Mercantile Trust account was untouched, as was the numbered off shore account. She took almost $140,000 in cash. She was gone, not the way she planned, but she was gone, none the less, and the money was gone too. It was withdrawn from the accounts in cash. There was no way to recover it unless she had hidden it in the apartment. At this point the treasure hunt was on. Before he proceeded to dismantle the apartment and everything in it, he decided to look at the situation logically.

There were a lot of things he did not know about Callie's plan. There were a few things he did know or he could find out. He called Metropolitan Trust and found out that Callie's withdrawal from their checking account had been at the branch in the World Trade Center at 3:12 pm on Monday afternoon. She withdrew the $130,000 from First Brooklyn at 4:05 pm. His next call was to Jayne Johnson.

He dialed her number and waited. "Jayne Johnson."

"Hi, Jayne. This is Bart Kramer."

"Hi Bart, how are you doing today?"

"I don't know if you know it, but they have now put Callie on the victim list."

"No, I didn't know. Bart, I'm so sorry."

"Jayne, it is bizarre, but now that I know she is gone, I think I'll be able to start moving toward closure. It has been awful, fearing that she was dead, but not knowing."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Actually there is. I would like to look at the security camera tapes from Monday, September 10th at 4 pm until she left the apartment on September 11th."

"If you don't mind me asking, what are you looking for?"

He proceeded to tell the lie he had concocted. "Callie was always nervous when she had to deal with large sums of money at home. Last Monday after I left town, I learned of the availability of a painting that I have wanted for a long time. It was available, but only for cash. I called Callie and she went to the bank and withdrew enough cash to make the deal. She was supposed to go see the dealer on Wednesday. The long story short is that of course I missed out on the deal, but I can't find the cash at home. I find it difficult to believe she would have carried that much cash to work on Tuesday, knowing she wouldn't need it until Wednesday. If I can see that she didn't leave the apartment after she came home on Monday until she left for work Tuesday morning, I'll know it couldn't be anywhere else."

"I don't see a problem with that. I don't really have time to watch it with you, but I can set it up for you in the office. When would you want to look at it?"

"When can you have it set up?"

"Come on down."

"I'll be right there."

Agents Maddox and Waters found a place to park in the block behind the apartment across the street from the Kramer's apartment and went up stairs. They knocked on the door and were admitted.

"How's it going?"

"It's a lot easier to keep an eye on him from here, compared to the other place."

"Well, you can thank your uncle. This place is costing a pretty penny."

Agent Michaels laughed, "You would think our uncle would spring for some better furniture. A folding table and two folding chairs probably don't quite live up to the standards of the residents association."

Agent Maddox frowned. "Maybe we'll wrap this up before someone reports us."

Waters asked, "Are you getting anything we can use?"

"As long as he leaves the living room curtains open, we can pretty much see everything in the living room and a little bit of the dining room and kitchen. I think he left them open last night. They were open long before we saw him for the first time this morning. He opened the blinds in the bedroom about an hour ago, but then he left the room. It's been fairly quiet so far today. The guy seems to like to have the TVs on. He hasn't turned them on today, but last night, I think, at one time, he had all of them on. We can tell what he's watching, but that's about all."

"Hey guys, he just left the apartment."

"You better let his shadow know he is on the move."

Bart walked into the office downstairs and found Jayne sitting at her desk. "Hi, Jayne."

She stood up and walked to the counter. "I'm so sorry about Callie. I've got the tape that you want cued up in the back office."

They walked to the back office and turned on the tape machine. "The current time stamp is 9/10 4:25. There she is."

Bart looked on the screen. Callie appeared and walked to the elevators. She was carrying a shopping bag. It was the same one she had Sunday.

"Do you have the ability to zoom in on the picture?"

"I'm afraid not. That's a little too high tech for us. We just hope to be able to recognize a face if someone decides to steal the potted plants from the lobby."

"This should be good enough for what I need to see."

"Okay, it's all cued up and ready. It's going to take you quite a while to fast forward through nearly sixteen hours to Tuesday morning."

"You said you saw her Tuesday morning. Do you remember what time that was?"

"Those guys from the FBI asked the same thing. I think it was about seven o'clock."

"Thanks for doing this for me."

She gave him a warm smile. "If you don't have any more questions, I think I'll get back to my desk."

"Okay, thanks again, Jayne."

Jayne left it with him. He sat in front of the monitor for over three hours looking for anyone that looked like Callie. A couple times, he thought he saw her, but it was someone else. He was surprised how much traffic passed in and out of the apartment lobby over one night. When the time stamp showed 9/11 7:04, he saw Callie get off the elevator, turn and walk toward the back door instead of walking to the front door. At first, he was ready to concede that he was watching her leave with the money, but after thinking about it a few minutes, she might have just been trying to allude anyone that wanted to follow her." After four hours, he still wasn't convinced, one way or another. The only reasonable course of action was to search the apartment. He thanked Jayne and returned to the apartment.

At 3:18, across the street, Reggie said, "The door just opened. He's back."

Bart walked into the apartment and turned on the televisions in all the rooms. He walked to the window and looked outside. He took a deep breath and went to the bedroom. Callie's closet was his first stop. He returned to the utility closet and got a step stool. He started at the top and systematically searched the closet from top to bottom. He looked on all the shelves, in her suitcase, and in all the shoe boxes. He had an idea and went back to the guest bedroom to call the banks to ask specifically about the cash she received.

"What is he doing?"

"All I'm getting with the directional microphones is the audio from the TVs. He is acting like someone that thinks his home has been bugged."

"If that is it, he is doing a good job."

He called Metropolitan Trust first. They told him she was quite adamant that she wanted four straps of twenties. At First Brooklyn, it was the same story. She got thirteen straps of hundreds there. All in all, it was a substantial amount of cash to hide, but in straps, it was manageable.

He continued the search in his closet. He went to the other two bedrooms and searched the closets.

He then began to look under the two beds and in the foundations. He moved to the living room and began to pull cushions from chairs and sofas. Across the street, the agents began to laugh. "Sorry Bud, you aren't going to find it there. She took it with her."

He looked in, under, on and behind every piece of furniture in the apartment. He looked in the water tanks of the toilets. By ten o'clock, the apartment was a mess. He gave up the search by midnight.

Saturday, he began the slow process of putting things back together and straightening the apartment. Saturday night, he went out to eat. For the first time since returning home from Denver, he ate a good meal. When told of it, Jim Lewis saw it as an encouraging sign.

Bart began to consider whether he was going to mention to anyone that Callie had planned to leave him. "Of course not," he told himself. There was nothing to be gained by that admission of failure. The loss of $141,000 was bad, but he had more. There was no need to tell anyone. Saturday evening, he decided that it was time to get back to work, for real. He made up his mind to drive over to Parsippany and join everyone else on Monday.

Chapter 23

September 23, 2001

Sunday morning it was quiet around the condo in Seagrove Beach. She had known since arriving that Micah's next job was October 3rd, at some town in West Texas. She didn't didn't find out about his appointment in Oklahoma until the previous Thursday and she didn't realize he would be leaving on Sunday until late Saturday evening when he began to pack. She was afraid something was wrong, but she didn't press him for more information.

At noon, he insisted on taking her to lunch. When they got back to the condo, he began to load the truck. A half hour later when the truck was ready to go, he found her sitting on the balcony. It was a little bit cool outside in the shade, but still okay with a light jacket.

"I'm going to head out now."

She looked up. "Okay, be careful and take care of yourself."

He smiled. "That's what I was going to say. You know where everything is. Treat it like it is your own place. You are more than welcome to move into my room while I'm gone. I should be back no later than the 19th, but I'm sure we'll talk between now and then."

She forced a smile. "I'm sure."

"Have fun and enjoy yourself, but stay out of trouble."

"I'll try."

"That's all you can do. I've got to go." Micah turned and walked to the front door and left the condo.

Callie took several deep breaths and walked inside. She missed him already, and he wasn't even out of the building. For seventeen days, she had enjoyed the company and companionship of a man who was totally honorable. He hadn't slipped out at night to attend late night meetings with nefarious clients that couldn't meet in the light of day and he hadn't tried to take advantage of her in a difficult situation.

Monday, Bart got up early and drove to Parsippany. When he walked up to Frank's desk, it was obvious that Frank had known Bart was on his way. "Hello Bart. There was no need for you to drive up here today."

"Yes, there is. It's been almost three weeks since Callie disappeared. Her body may never be found, but I have to get on with my life. I need to work. I know I have plenty of work to do, but I can't be productive at home."

"Like I said, there was no need for you to come up here today. We are all moving back to Manhattan today. Everyone else in the group took their stuff with them on Friday. As soon as I can get my stuff gathered up, I'm heading back to the office. Since you're here, do you want to give me a hand?"

"Of course." An hour after he arrived, Bart was on his way back to Manhattan. By noon, he was back at his desk. He was surprised how good it felt to be back. He felt bad about how little he had been able to accomplish since he had been back from Denver so he decided to stay a little while and get some paperwork done after everyone else left. At 6:15 he looked up from his reading and was surprised to see Jim Lewis standing in his doorway.

"Have you got a minute?"

"Like I'm going to say no," he thought. Instead, he smiled and said, "Sure, come on in and have a seat."

Jim walked in and closed the door. "I'm surprised to see you today." He sat down in the chair he was offered and asked, "How are things going?"

"Much better now."

"How so?"

"Well, since Saturday I have come to accept that Callie is gone. They may never be able to identify her. I have to move on. Eventually, if they don't find her remains, I suppose I'll have to petition the court to get her declared legally dead, but that is years away. I refuse to just sit around feeling sorry for myself any longer. I'm only thirty-five. My life isn't over."

"Well, Bart, I have to tell you, we were really worried about you for a while."

"I appreciate that, but I think I'm going to be okay now. There may be little setbacks from time to time, but I'll get through them."

"That's good to hear."

"Jim, I'd like your advice on something."

"Sure."

"Callie was talking to a decorator about updating the apartment. Do you think anyone would think badly of me if I went ahead and made some changes?"

"Of course not. What are you thinking about doing?"

"Callie had a decorator come by and look things over a few weeks ago. We never did meet with her to look at her recommendations. I'm thinking about meeting with her and see what she recommends. Who knows, I may get all new furniture, too. A whole new start may be just what I need."

"That would certainly give you a fresh start."

"One other thing."

"What's that?"

"You don't need to have those guys babysit me anymore. I think I'm going to be alright."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the two guys that have been following me. One of them drives a blue Chevy and the other drives a blue Oldsmobile. They aren't really believable as joggers." Bart smiled at Jim.

"I'll see what I can do about them."

"I would appreciate it. When I start seeing the ladies again, I really don't think I'll need a chaperon."

Jim leaned toward Bart. "Tell me something."

"Sure."

"Did the FBI ever try to get in contact with you?"

"Yeah."

Jim smiled and said, "Really?" He tried to pass it off like it was no big deal. It was a big deal though, because he didn't know about it.

"I thought it was a pretty lame attempt."

"What did they do?"

"They sent a note and a neck tie. They said when I wanted to meet with them to wear the tie."

"What did you do with it?"

"The next morning, I dropped it on the sidewalk in front of my apartment. I haven't had anything from them since."

"If they make any more attempts to contact you, even lame ones, I need to know. We are working on a little harassment suit against them, ourselves. It is not fair to try to pick on our firm when we are playing by the rules."

"Absolutely."

Jim stood up to leave. "Don't work too late on your first day back. You don't want to burn out."

On Tuesday, Callie went to her second photography class. When she took her seat, James brought her a stack of bookmarked photography magazines. "I marked a few things you should consider before you buy your camera."

"Thanks."

They had about an hour of lecture time, talking about f stops, ISOs, shutter speeds, aperture settings and focal lengths. At the end of the hour, her head was swimming in all the new terminology. She knew all these terms were just things that she would have to learn. She shouldn't have been surprised there was so much more to taking a good photograph than pointing the camera and pressing a button. After the first hour, they went outside and he talked to them for another hour about composition. Who knew it was so much work to take a picture?

As the class was breaking up, he walked up to her and asked, "Callie, when do you think you will be ready to buy your camera?"

"I would like to get it this week."

"That's great. We are going to be ready to start taking pictures, next week."

"I'm hoping the magazines you gave me will help me make up my mind."

"I'm not going to tell you what kind of camera to buy, but keep in mind that if you get the kind of camera I have, I will be able to more easily help you with the mechanics of using your camera as well as the technical aspects of photography in general."

She looked down at his camera strap that proudly proclaimed his camera's manufacturer.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"If you have any questions before Friday's class, call me. My card is in one of those magazines and it is also on the class syllabus."

"Thanks, James."

When he got home, Bart dropped his keys into the bowl on the table by the door and walked directly to the TV in the living room to turn it on. He went to the window and closed the drapes. Across the street, there was a moan. "Well, we're done for the night, unless he turns off that TV."

At 8:30, Callie's cell phone rang. She jumped up from the couch and ran to the kitchen counter where she had it plugged in to charge. She grabbed it, pulled out the charging cord, and ran to the couch to sit down. "Hi, Micah."

"How is it going?"

"Pretty good. So far I've managed to drive at or below the speed limit and I've left my checkbook at home and I haven't done anything that would require me to show my driver's license or give out my social security number."

"It sounds like things are going alright. How is your photography going?"

"I had my second class yesterday and James gave me some magazines to look at with several camera options."

"What are you going to do?"

"I think I'll call him tomorrow and see if he will go with me to buy one."

"That's probably a good idea."

"I am pretty sure I know which one I want, but if he has other ideas, I'll be open to look at something else. How is your follow up visit going?"

"It went fine. I'll be heading west in the morning. They had a few questions about the new monitoring equipment we installed. I could have answered all their questions over the phone, but they wanted an on site visit. No worries, it's their money."

"So, did you get bored and decide to check on me?"

"I am bored, but that wasn't why I called. I just wanted to know how your first few days of struggling by without me was going. Do you miss me."

"Thanks. Of course I miss you. What are you going to do this weekend?"

"Oh, I don't know. I might go to a football game. How about you?"

"I will probably just hang out around here."

They talked about insignificant topics for a few more minutes. When the conversation began to drag, he said, "I don't want to keep you from whatever you were doing. I better be going."

"Alright, we'll talk again later. Good night."

"Good night."

Wednesday morning before work, Bart took the phone into the guest room and placed a call to Sara. "Hi, Sara, this is Bart Kramer. I hope this isn't too early."

"No, it's fine. I'm about to leave for work."

"You came to our apartment and looked at it with my wife, Callie."

"Oh, yes, Mr. Kramer."

"I know you are probably very busy, but she said that you would meet with us in a few days to make recommendations."

"Yes, I would like to do that. I've been trying but I haven't been able to reach Mrs. Kramer."

"There has been a problem with her phone. When are you available?"

"What about this evening?"

"Sure. Where?"

"I can come to your place again."

"Okay. Is seven o'clock too late?"

"No. I'll see you then."

Before he left the apartment, Bart went to the front window and took a picture of the cars parked on both sides of the street. After he took his pictures, he put up the camera and left the apartment to go downstairs.

Across the street, Agents Faulkner and Maddox watched him on a monitor. One of their toys was a remote control camera that was mounted on their window ledge. It could follow him for up to three blocks if he didn't turn at the corner. He was definitely watching for a tail for the first block and a half. Jim Lewis must have pulled his surveillance team because neither Bart nor the FBI spotted anyone. The FBI's Agent Scott, fell in behind him two blocks away and the guys on the camera went back to their reading.

In the middle of the morning, Callie looked up her photography instructor's telephone number. When he answered, she said, "Hello, James, this is Callie."

"Hi, Callie. I was just about to call you."

"Really?"

"My wife and I are going to Pensacola this morning. She wants to do some clothes shopping and I want to go to my favorite camera shop. Would you like to go with us? If you don't mind the clothes shopping for a little while, the camera shop over there is first rate. They have a large selection of cameras and accessories. One thing I haven't mentioned in class is that sometimes it is better to buy your camera locally. In the event that you have problems, it is generally easier to get service locally than if you order it out of a catalog."

"Are you sure you don't mind if I tag along? I don't want to impose on you and your wife."

"I'm sure."

"Okay. When are you planning to leave?"

"That is the kicker. We were planning to leave in about an hour."

"That's no problem. Can I meet you at the community center?"

"Sure. See you there. By the way?"

"Yes?"

"You called me."

"Oh, I was going to ask you if you would mind going with me to look at cameras today."

They shared a laugh.

All day, Bart thought about what he wanted from Sara. First he wanted her to do another sweep of the apartment for listening devices. Then he wanted to talk about surveillance cameras. He wanted to be able to see anything that happened in the apartment when he was out.

When James and Jill pulled into the parking lot at the community center, Callie was waiting. He introduced the two women and they soon left for Pensacola. Two hours later they arrived at a mall for Jill's shopping. Callie enjoyed shopping with the older woman. On Jill's recommendation, she bought a jacket that would work for a Florida winter. When they got to the camera shop, James was pleased when Callie followed his advice and purchased a good quality starter DSLR, a case and a 70-300 zoom lens. She didn't particularly like the camera strap, but decided she could pick up another one later on.

She was now more than ready to take pictures.

When Bart got home on Wednesday afternoon, he had another note from his "Best Friend". This one said, "Bart,

Don't let them sucker you into a position where you take the fall. You don't have to go to prison. I'm still looking for a tie.  
We need to talk.

Your Best Friend"

He looked out on the street and didn't see any of the cars that had been following him for two weeks. It didn't mean he was no longer being followed, but at least they had been forced to change cars.

He closed the drapes and waited for Sara. Promptly at seven, there was a knock at the door. He opened it and said, "You must be Sara."

"And you are Bart?"

He smiled. "Yes. Come in."

"When I met with Callie, I assumed all three of us would be meeting tonight."

Bart frowned. "Callie died on 9/11."

The color drained from her face. "I am so sorry."

"You couldn't have known."

As they talked, Sara unpacked her scanning equipment and began to sweep the room for listening devices. The living room scanned clean again. She continued with her scan to the guest room where she remembered there were no bugs before. When the room scanned clean again, she switched on the TV. "Mr. Kramer, I'll finish scanning the other rooms in a minute, but I would like to talk about any new concerns you have since I was here last."

"Good, but it's Bart."

"Okay, Bart."

"Callie mentioned changing the light fixtures to rid the place of three of the bugs you found. If I get new bedroom furniture and a new computer desk, that should clear them all out. The thing is, I want to know if someone else gets in here to plant more listening devices. I also want to get new locks or re-key the existing ones."

"Those are all good ideas."

"We better go on to the other rooms."

"I was thinking that in here, you might consider just painting."

"That sounds okay to me." They stepped into the master bedroom. "I'm thinking about painting this room too and maybe buying some new furniture. Callie suggested a new window shade."

Sara continued through the house with her sweeping. Everything was as it was before. When they got back to the living room, she said, "In here, I think you might just paint."

"What would you do first?"

Sara made the motion for a movie camera in charades. He got it. Cameras would be the first step.

"Since you are going for a major update, I would start with lighting and plumbing fixtures."

"And then?"

She held up a key and turned it back and forth. He got it. New locks or re-keying the current locks would be second.

"I suppose I would look at paint next."

"Okay, and then?"

"I would get furniture last, unless of course, I decided to put in new carpet. There are a few other things to think about, like curtains and window treatments, but you don't have to decide anything right away."

Bart motioned for Sara to follow.

She followed him into the guest room.

He asked, "When can you get started?"

"Give me a key and I can have a crew install the cameras tomorrow morning. Generally we work with the building management to have the locks re-keyed. I can also install a device that will record each time the door is opened and closed. Since you are the only one going in and out, it will be easy to see if anyone has been in or out of the apartment since you were. I'll stop by your office tomorrow with some color samples."

"Thanks."

She packed away her scanning device as she carried on a monologue about color selection and scheduling painters in the late fall. "I'll drop off some color samples at your office tomorrow."

"That would be great."

"Good night."

"Thanks for coming, I appreciate it."

Sara stepped through the door and closed it behind her.

Wednesday night, Callie set her alarm to get up early on Thursday. When the radio came on, she jumped out of bed, threw on some clothes and hurried out to the balcony to set up her tripod. Fifteen minutes later, she was busy snapping photos as the eastern sky began to transition from night to twilight to morning. She was amazed by the beauty of the sun reflecting off the clouds and surprised by how quickly it all changed as the day transitioned from night to day. Before today, she had seen plenty of sun rises, but she hadn't really seen them.

An hour later, she was finished photographing her first sunrise. She downloaded the pictures to her computer and tried to figure out the camera's photo editing software enough to look at them. She looked forward to learning about the software. She hoped James would cover it in class. It would be much easier than having to figure it out on her own.

During the fall of 2001, in New York and Seagrove Beach, Bart and Callie Kramer separately struggled to establish their new lives apart, with some differences. From time to time, Callie thought about Bart and wondered how he was adjusting to the changes in his life. Bart also thought about Callie from time to time, too, but his thoughts alternated between thinking about what life could have been if he had paid attention, how life was going to be, because fate and Fincher Fowler & Pratt had taken her away from him and how life would have been if she had pursued the divorce she wanted. As time went on, he realized yet a fourth possibility which became his preference. He thought about how life could have been if he had hunted her down, begged for her for forgiveness and spent the rest of his life filling a house with kids, trying to make it up to her.

In Florida, Callie attended her photography classes two days a week and took photographs most other days, if the weather was nice and she wanted to get out of the condo. She spent her nights evaluating, culling and editing photos. She frequently shared the photos with Micah. They talked frequently and became closer, though physically they were hundreds of miles apart. Before he left for his first job after she arrived, Callie told him she was ready to initiate divorce proceedings but she got distracted. She began to enjoy her freedom and didn't want to take time away from her photography to pursue something that had a high potential to become unpleasant.

The partners at Fincher Fowler & Pratt believed Bart returned to work because he came to terms with Callie being dead. That wasn't quite the whole unvarnished truth. He decided not to disclose to anyone that she was in the process of leaving him when she died.

Not long after he started working at Fincher Fowler & Pratt, Bart began to have questions about some of the services they provided for clients. He just never voiced his suspicions. Despite his supervising partner and the managing partners constant assurances, he had his doubts that everything they did was totally legal. Unfortunately, before he recognized exactly what was going on, he found himself trapped in the middle of it. Sure, the money was beyond even what they told him during his interview, but his misgivings made him wonder how long it could last. When he learned they had his apartment bugged and were having him followed, he felt confused, angered and betrayed, but not really surprised. His doubts and suspicions led him to begin to make his backup diskettes and later justified his decision to create his own rainy day fund, creatively appropriating some of their money to do it.

When Micah returned from West Texas in late October, he found it more difficult to maintain his distance from Callie than it had been when he picked her up in Chicago. When he originally left for the job in Texas, he had looked forward to being able to see her in three weeks, but when he returned, it was difficult to deny the mutual attraction that had somehow become even stronger while they were apart. The first few hours he was at home, he knew he better hit the road again as soon as possible. As a rule, he spent more time at home in November and December than at any other time of the year, but not this year. After only a few days at home, he hit the road again.

Quite often in the fall, when her class was over on Thursday and she knew she didn't have to be back until Tuesday, she thought of throwing a few things in a suitcase and driving to where Micah happened to be for the weekend, but she didn't. He never hinted that he was interested in her coming for a visit.

Several times, toward the end of a particularly long or tough week, Micah thought about jumping on a plane on Friday and flying home to see Callie for the weekend, but he didn't. She never let on that she would like that. As he wrapped up each project and told her where he was going next, he listened for a hint of some sort that she would like for him to come home for a few days. The hints never came. He was able to rearrange his schedule to go from job to job to job. He would have gladly rescheduled any of the jobs to go home to see her, to possibly get the opportunity to give her another hug. They were each painfully steadfast in their determination to maintain their relationship as friends only. He finally returned to Florida the week before Christmas.

In spite of his continuing frustration and anger, Bart put up a good front and did everything expected of him when he returned to work. At first, he was angry at the firm and everyone in it because of their lack of compassion toward him and his loss. He was resentful that they broke in and bugged his apartment and followed him. He held them responsible for Callie leaving him. He was terribly dissatisfied with his work and wanted out, he just didn't know how to get away. He often thought that if they bugged his home and followed him, what would they do if he tried to resign and walk away. Even though they constantly preached that everything the firm did was legal, he was certain that he knew too much to ever leave.

When Micah came home before Christmas, he offered to stay with Callie over the holidays but she insisted he do what he usually did which was to go to Phoenix to see his parents. She spent Christmas alone, again in 2001. When she met Bart, she thought her lonely holidays were over, but she never counted on life coming between her and her husband. On Christmas Day, she took a long walk on the mostly deserted beach. She snapped a few pictures, but her heart wasn't in it.

Bart spent a depressing Christmas with his family in New Jersey. They tried to encourage him, but they didn't know about Callie's plans on the day she died, or his anxiety at work.

Slowly but surely, Bart saw signs that he was being accepted accepted back into the fold at the firm, but it was a frustratingly slow process. For over two months, he saw nothing of the complex contracts and agreements he had previously handled. He suspected he was getting assignments from one of the other two partners on the other side of the house.

Chapter 24

A few days into the new year, Callie woke up with a new project on her mind, for the first time in months. She ate breakfast and headed to the library. She hadn't been to a library since she left New York. The first thing she noticed was only one other car in the parking lot. It was early, but not that early. She walked inside.

"Good morning."

Callie looked around and found the source of the greeting, behind a book shelf where a woman appeared to be watering a tropical plant. "Hi." That was a first for Callie. Every other library she had visited was a tomb of enforced silence.

"I know libraries have a reputation to maintain, but this morning it is just us. We don't usually get much traffic in the winter. Is there something I can help you find this morning?"

"Actually, you can. I need to find an attorney and I don't just want to base my selection on Yellow Page ads. I'm looking for recommendations."

"Are you in some kind of trouble, honey?"

The librarian had been personable up to this point, but Callie wasn't comfortable sharing much with this stranger, no mater how personable. "Not exactly, I am looking for a very good divorce attorney."

"Oh, honey, you should have said so. I just happened to have a little experience with divorce attorneys."

"I have some questions about the process and I need to talk to one to get started."

"Okay." The librarian nodded.

"To be honest, the first one I talk to may not be the one that I ultimately retain to handle the case."

"Okay."

"Is there an attorney in the area that tends to represent the wives in high profile cases?"

"Oh, you want, Bill Littleton."

"Does he win?"

"Honey, I'm not sure anyone wins in a divorce, but he did an excellant job for me."

"How do I reach him?"

"I'm sure he's in the book. He has an office in Destin."

"Do you have a phone book?"

"Reference section, right over there." She pointed to a table surrounded by book cases. Callie found the Destin phone book, and in no time copied Bill Littleton's phone number and address to her notepad.

"Thanks for the information," She said, as she put the phone book back in its place.

"You're welcome. Come back anytime."

When she got back to her car, she wasted no time calling Bill Littleton.

"Law offices of William Littleton."

"Is Mr. Littleton in?"

"He is, but he is with a client, may I help you?"

"Yes, I would like to talk to Mr. Littleton about getting a divorce."

"Okay, we'll need to set up an appointment for you to discuss your case with him and see if he will represent you."

"Okay, when can we do that?"

"Let's see. What is your name?"

"Callie Kramer."

"Mrs. Kramer, Mr. Littleton has some time available this afternoon at three."

"That would be great."

"He will be expecting you."

She looked at her watch and saw that it was only ten o'clock so she returned home. When she got there she decided to pass the time researching what she could find about the divorce laws of Florida and New York. At 2:45, she was sitting in the waiting area at William Littleton's office. At three o'clock, his assistant walked into his office. A minute later, she appeared at the door and invited Callie inside. When she entered the room the assistant quickly exited and closed the door.

"Hello, Mrs. Kramer. I'm Bill Littleton," the man said as he stood from behind the desk and walked to a round table across the room. "Please make yourself comfortable." He pointed to one of the overstuffed chairs at the table. After they were seated across from each other, he got right to business. He looked her right in the eye. "My secretary tells me you are interested in a divorce."

Callie stared right back at him. "Yes, I am."

"Does you husband know that you have been thinking about a divorce?"

"Probably."

He put down his pen and looked at her over the top of his reading glasses. "Probably?"

"Yes. I left him a note when I left."

He picked up his pen and made a note. He looked up at her again. "So, you left him a note. Is there some other way he could know that you are interested in a divorce? Let's just say, your absence could be a clue."

"Not so much."

He put down his pen again and took off his reading glasses. "I'm confused."

"He probably thinks I'm dead."

"What?"

"He more than likely thinks I died on the day I mailed the note."

He began to rub his forehead. This was going to be a good one. "You are going to have to explain this all to me."

"Oh, absolutely." Callie proceeded to tell Mr. Littleton the story of their difference of opinion regarding children, his controlling nature, his vow not to give her a divorce and their deteriorating relationship.

When she was finished, he said, "That is all well and good, and I would say you have grounds for irreconcilable differences, but you still haven't said anything about why he thinks you are dead."

"Mr. Littleton, I worked in the North Tower of the World Trade Center in New York and I left him on the morning of September 11."

"Oh, my. This is interesting. So, you are going to say 'Surprise, I'm not dead. By the way, I still want the divorce.'"

"That is not exactly how I would have said it, but it is pretty much what I see happening."

"Okay, I have some questions. Where are you living?"

"I'm staying at a friend's condo in Seagrove Beach."

"I assume you don't have any utilities in your name."

"That is correct."

"You don't have a Florida Driver's License."

"Correct."

"Technically, I can't help you."

"Oh."

"According to the State of Florida, you haven't done anything to indicate that you have the intent to establish residence. If you were a resident of the State of Florida for six months you could file for divorce here, but you clearly aren't. You can establish your residence here and file in six months, or you can file in New York, where you are still a resident. At least your husband is. Although he may believe you to be dead, without your body, which he obviously doesn't have, you have to be missing for seven years to be declared legally dead."

"Have you done anything since arriving here to indicate an intention to establish residence?"

"I joined the preferred customer program at the store where I bought my new computer."

"I don't think that will work, but six months is not that long. You could go today and get a new driver's license and get the clock started." He looked at a calendar. "We can be ready to file in July."

"I'm reluctant to do that."

"Is there some reason that we should have attorney client privilege before we talk further?"

"Possibly."

"Just a minute." He stood up and walked to the door. He opened it and said, "Willow, I need a standard client retainer contract for Callie Kramer." He turned back to Callie. "Do you have a dollar?"

"Absolutely."

He came back to the table. In two minutes, Willow appeared with the contract. He signed it. Callie signed it and gave him a dollar.

"Thank you,Willow. Will you make a folder for Mrs. Kramer?"

"Yes, sir." Willow left the room and closed the door.

"Mrs. Kramer, you now have a lawyer. Now what is it that is keeping you from wanting to officially become a resident of the State of Florida?"

"My husband works for a law firm that may be under investigation by the FBI. They came to see me in August to get me to encourage Bart to contact them. I never said anything to him about the visit. I was past owing him any loyalty at that point. We knew that our apartment had been bugged by some unknown party and we suspected we were being followed. He suspected it could be some of his firm's sleazy clients. I am aware that my name was listed as among the victims, but I also know that I was supposed to be with one of my co-workers at an appointment on 9-11. She had to know that I wasn't at work that day. I left my empty purse on my desk the day before to make it look like I was there, but I'm sure she figured out I wasn't. My original train ticket was purchased with an old credit card of mine and I'm sure the FBI was made aware of it, if they were following me, as I suspected. I also used that credit card to pay for a hotel room on 9-11 in Manhattan when the trains were on lock down. I used cash, the next day to buy the ticket I actually used. I've been very careful since, to not use that credit card, I got rid of my cell phone. Initially I did everything I did so that my husband would not be able to find me, but it also has hidden me from the authorities."

"Nothing you've told me so far would get you into trouble."

"Well, I know of some information that might be of value in a criminal investigation."

"Does anyone know you have this information?"

"No. Absolutely not."

"What is it?"

"I don't know."

"You're doing it again, Mrs. Kramer."

"Okay. On the night before I left, I found what appeared to me to be backup diskettes in a box in our storage room in the basement."

"What is on the diskettes?"

"I'm not exactly sure. I know they are encrypted but I don't know what is on them. I know they belonged to my husband."

"How do you know that?"

"He was out of town that night. I took them upstairs to look at them on our computer. I told you they are encrypted files. He used the password I helped him craft, just after we got married. The files are columns of numbers. I assume they are bank routing numbers, account numbers, dates and amounts. I didn't look at them long that night and I haven't looked at them since. They were in a place that was an obvious hiding place and I decided that if he was hiding them, they might be as valuable to me as to him, at some point. I made copies in case I needed some leverage with him someday."

"Mrs. Kramer, I would be happy to represent you in this action. Your case looks much more interesting than the usual stuff I see. The downside for you is that you will have to wait six more months. I don't believe at this point that you have any responsibility to make anyone aware of the information you have that may or may not have value. Further, if the FBI does become aware of your good health and intention to become a resident of the Sunshine State and they pay you a visit, I will be happy to be present to protect your interests. Your information may be important enough to them to insulate you from your soon to be ex-husband and his cronies."

She left her attorney's office and drove straight to the local office of the Department of Motor Vehicles, surrendered her New York license and walked out with a brand new Florida Driver's License. She called Micah that night with her news.

"Hi, how is it going?"

"About the same. I'm about to wrap up this job in a day or two. It looks like I'm going to have few days before I have to leave for Texas."

"I've forgotten, where are you, anyway?"

"I'm in a town just outside of Las Vegas."

"I have some news."

"You do?"

"You will be so proud."

"Really?"

"I have a lawyer and a new Florida Driver's License."

"Oh, really. What is your address?"

"I used yours."

"Okay, that's cool. I guess you decided to get the divorce in Florida instead of New York."

"Yes, I have to establish residency, but you said I could stay here as long as I need to."

"Absolutely."

"Six months from today we will file. My attorney says that by this time next year I should be a free woman."

"Like I was saying, I think I'll have a few days after I finish up here, before I have to leave for Texas. What do you think about me flying home for a few days and we can celebrate?"

"That would be great," she said, suddenly very excited.

"Can you pick me up in Pensacola?"

"Of course, just tell me when."

"I'll work it out and call you in a day or two."

The next morning, Micah called the contact for his next job and rescheduled it for a week later.

Callie was excited on the day she drove to meet Micah at the airport in Pensacola. She had hardly seen him since October. He had been home for a few days before Christmas, but it had been strained and uncomfortable. She hoped it would be better this time.

As he looked out the window over the Gulf of Mexico on final approach at the Pensacola airport, he hoped things would be better than the last time he saw Callie. She told him before he left in October that she was going to get things started on her divorce. In December she still hadn't done anything. She said she got busy with her photography and forgot. He had begun to wonder if she was going to decide to go back to him. Her call about the Driver's License and attorney was encouraging. She was still off limits as far as he was concerned, but at least she was moving a little closer toward being available.

When he got off the plane, she was waiting for him. That was a totally new and exciting experience. He saw her and wasn't sure how to greet her. She walked up to him and held her arms out for a hug and he was absolutely in heaven. He picked her up and held her tight for a few moments and then put her down. He noticed she was a little flushed when he put her down, but she was smiling so he thought everything must be okay. She laughed. "Were you at sea long, sailor?"

He laughed. "I guess I did sort of over do it."

She smiled again and said. "I didn't mind."

He floated to the baggage claim area and waited for his bags to appear on the carousel. What he really did was stand and watch Callie's reflection in a window across the room as she watched for his bags. When he saw that she spotted his big suitcase, he stepped up and grabbed it and the other one off the conveyor. They walked outside and were driving toward Seagrove Beach, in five minutes.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

"Famished. I haven't eaten a decent meal all day."

"Do you know any good places over here?"

"Not really, I don't get over here that often, but I'm sure they have all the regular restaurants."

"When I came over here and bought my camera, we ate at this little place right around the corner from the camera shop."

"Where was that?"

"I don't really know," she said and burst out laughing again. "Let's just get off the interstate at the next exit and drive until we find something that looks good."

"As I remember, we did that once before on a trip."

"And things worked out alright."

He took the next exit and they almost immediately spotted a seafood restaurant from a regional chain. He knew she would like it. They ate their fill and talked for two hours. By the time they got back to the condo it was almost midnight. When they got inside, Micah found his bedroom just as he had left it.

"You didn't move to my bedroom?"

"No. I didn't want to get spoiled." She didn't tell him that just this morning, she returned his pillow to his bed.

He said, "I'm exhausted. I'm going to take a shower and go to bed."

Callie went to her room and showered also. When she was ready for bed, she walked to the kitchen for a drink of water. She glanced out the window and to no great surprise, saw Micah's silhouette at the rail of the balcony. She resisted a strong urge to join him. Instead, she went to bed and recalled with great detail, their hug at the airport.

The next morning, Micah awoke to the aroma of coffee and bacon. His mind immediately returned to their first morning together in the RV. The image of Callie cooking bacon in her panties and tee shirt overpowered his good sense and he knew he had to sneak out for a peek. When he stuck his head through the door, she saw him. "Good morning, Loyal Prince."

"Good morning to you, Sweet Girl."

He laughed and walked to the kitchen for coffee. "What made you think of that?"

"I just thought about all we've been through." They sat down to eat at the bar and had a repeat of their first breakfast together. Bacon and scrambled eggs, toast and apple butter.

"It's been almost a year since I started bothering Darla to see if you were going to be at the reunion."

"Did you really do that?"

"I did. I called her every week and she finally told me that if I would tell her who I was calling about, she would let me know if they were confirmed. I agreed to tell her, if she promised not to tell you or anyone else. Did she tell you?"

"No, and to be honest, I didn't recognize you when you walked in on Friday night."

"I knew you as soon as I stepped through the door."

"Look, I'm enjoying this stroll down memory lane as much as the next girl, but I have a photography class this morning and I'm going to have to leave in just a few minutes. You haven't said how long you are going to get to stay this time."

"I'm expected at my next job on the twenty-eighth. I have to fly back to Las Vegas on the twenty-sixth and drive to Texas to be there on the morning of twenty-eighth."

"Good, what is that, twelve days?"

"It will only be about nine days here."

"That's over a week. We can do a lot in that much time. I want to show you some of the neat places I've found to take pictures."

"It sounds like you're really getting into it."

"I am, and speaking of photography, I really need to go."

"Go on, if you must." He grinned and watched her walk out the door.

While Callie was away, Micah looked around the condo. Everywhere he looked, he saw little signs that Callie was making herself at home. There were pictures in her room that were new. They were fabulous. There were little things too, like new coasters in the living room and candles and flowers. She was making her mark, and he liked the marks she was making. He had been a little nervous leaving for so long, but she was probably taking better care of the place than he did. Every little thing he learned about Callie was better than he remembered or imagined it could be. By summer he hoped he could tell her how he felt about her.

Chapter 25

In mid January, Bart felt his fortunes change. On a Thursday afternoon, his phone rang. On the display, it said, "Fincher."

"Bart Kramer."

"Bart, this Anson Fincher."

"Hello, Mr. Fincher. What can I do for you?"

"I just wanted you to know you are back to being the point man for Moccasin Crossing. I talked with Gordon Tildon and he has come off his high horse. He actually asked that we put you back on the project. I just wanted to let you know."

"Thank you, Mr. Fincher."

The next Monday he returned from a meeting to find a folder on his desk. It had a note from Frank attached.

Bart,

We will meet with Mr. Fincher to talk about this one at two this afternoon.

Frank

At the end of the meeting, Bart knew he was back on the team and in the good graces of the firm. His travel schedule soon picked up and so did the pressure.

Micah's nine days with Callie at his condo passed in a blur. There were some near misses, but they maintained a safe distance from each other. It helped that Callie still thought it was a little too cool to go to the beach.

The big three and Jim Lewis met at Three Hills on a cold sunny Groundhog Day. Lewis didn't bring his clubs. On the first tee, Fowler asked the first question. "Jim, what are the Feds up to?"

"Gentlemen, according to my sources, on September 11, every physical scrap of information and evidence related to the investigation of Fincher Fowler & Pratt was lost."

Pratt observed, "That is great news. Now all we have to do is keep working hard for our clients."

All four men shared a laugh. An almost festive mood descended on the three partners. Fowler chimed in. "That's right."

Fincher asked, "We are going to continue to monitor Bart Kramer, aren't we?"

"Of course."

Fincher said, "Good work Jim."

"Thanks. I better get back to the office." Lewis turned and walked back toward the clubhouse.

In mid February, Bart got another of the tell tale envelopes in his mailbox at home. He immediately knew who sent it.

Hello, Mr. Kramer,

The fact that you are now working on the high level projects at Fincher Fowler & Pratt again, means you are back to being a potential high level asset to us or a high level target.

We will bring them down. When it happens, will you be going to prison with them?

I'm still looking for a tie. If you've misplaced yours, leave your bedroom light on and the blinds open and I'll get you another one.

Your Best Friend.

If the note had arrived on a Monday, he might not have noticed it in his hurry to get to his poker game and forgotten about it, but it came on Tuesday. He had the whole uninterrupted evening for it to simmer in his mind. He went to work on Wednesday, as usual, although his mind kept going back to the question in the message. He absolutely did not want to go to prison, not for Fincher Fowler & Pratt or any of its partners and associates and especially not its clients. He wanted out. Callie was gone forever, but he might be able to salvage his life if he could get away from Fincher Fowler & Pratt. Maybe they could help him get out and start over. He walked out of the apartment the next morning wearing their tie.

That afternoon, there was another package in his mailbox.

"Mr. Kramer,

We want to do this right so you will be safe. It will take a few days to arrange everything. I will be in touch."

It was seven days later when he received a message with instructions for the meeting. On Saturday morning, he was instructed to dress for hiking and drive to Harriman State Park, about two hours north of the city at Bear Mountain, NY. He was instructed to drive to cabin #9 of the Segago Cabins. When he arrived, he was to walk up to the cabin and sit on the front porch. He would be contacted.

On Saturday morning, Bart got up early. He was nervous and didn't want to be late, but he also didn't want to be followed. Before leaving the apartment, he walked to the window and took pictures. Across the street, one of the agents said, "He's taking pictures again. He must be about ready to leave."

He walked down the block to get his car. As he drove by the front of the apartment building he noticed that no one pulled out to follow him. The night before, an agent had slipped into the garage and attached an electronic tracking device to his rear bumper. Bart's route this morning to Harriman Park took him from Brooklyn, across Manhattan into New Jersey and then back into New York. When he got to the cabin, he walked up to the porch as instructed and sat down. Ten minutes later, Trent Maddox opened the door behind him and walked out on the porch.

"Good morning Mr. Kramer. It's nice to finally meet you. Would you step inside please?"

Bart decided to take an aggressive attitude. "Why do you keep trying to contact me?"

"If you will step inside, we can talk. Otherwise, you can go home."

Agent Maddox smiled. He followed Bart inside and closed the door. "To answer your question, you seem like a nice guy and you are involved with a bunch of not so nice people doing things that are not ethical or legal. We have been investigating them for several years. As best we can tell, most of Fincher Fowler & Pratt's business is legitimate, but there is a branch of the firm that is not. Unfortunately for you, you are employed in the branch that deals with all the questionable clients. Two people actually control this branch and in effect, the firm. Jim Lewis is not listed as a partner on the letterhead, but he and Fincher control everything. The other two partners think they are insulated, but they aren't. They claim to not know anything about any questionable activities.

You are the latest in a line of ambitious young attorneys to get sucked into their web. I'll bet you've never heard of Jack Massey."

"No, who is he."

"He was the last guy to occupy your position."

"Well I've never heard of him."

"You see, they are good. They keep everything very quiet. Anything that happens outside of work hours is dismissed as trivial. Jack and his wife Lola were killed in an avalanche in Colorado a few months before you went to work for the good people at FF&P. He was working with us. We almost had enough on them to get an indictment, but without his testimony, we couldn't move ahead with it."

"Before him it was Mike Scott, Bob Stout and George Abbot."

"I haven't heard of any of those guys."

"What do you know of anyone that works at Fincher Fowler & Pratt?"

"Nothing, really."

"Trust me, the guys on the other side of the house are suspicious, but they aren't going to say anything. The bonuses are too big and stakes are too high. The other two branches don't know what each other are doing either. Fincher Fowler & Pratt is one big box of secrets."

"What happened to those other guys you mentioned?"

"Well, they started out like you. I'll bet you're working at least sixty hours a week, traveling at least eight days a month and you hardly ever see your wife, with all the after hours meetings."

"She was leaving me, the day the World Trade Center came down."

"Taking a vacation with your wife is dangerous if you work at Fincher Fowler & Pratt. When Jack was killed, he and his wife were away, trying to salvage their marriage. Mike Scott and his wife got food poisoning while in Mexico. Bob Stout had a heart attack in the steam room at his athletic club three days before he was to leave for a Mediterranean Cruise and George Abbott drowned while he and his wife were in Tahiti. The official story was that he decided to go for a swim in the middle of the night, got a cramp and drowned. They use you guys up until you get a conscience."

"You know all this and you haven't been able to do anything."

"Every time they replace one of you guys, they completely change the setup. If you will recall, when you first went to work, there were initially a lot of deals to be made and arrangements to be made. Have you ever wondered about anything that was going on before you started with them?"

"They said it was confidential information and I was just hired to deal with new clients."

"We spoke with your wife."

"When?"

"August 20th. It was the afternoon of the night you went to that pizza place in Brooklyn. It was about the last time you two went out together before the attack on the Twin Towers."

"She never mentioned you to me."

"We know she made substantial withdrawals from two of your joint bank accounts on September 10. You were in Denver at the time. She also booked a flight to Belize for the next night. Were you planning to try to drop out of sight?"

"I wish. She was leaving me. I got a letter when I got home. When I found out about the money, I spent a whole weekend looking for it. I assure you it is not in my apartment. I didn't have any idea she was leaving until several days after I got back from Denver. Did you you guys bug my apartment?"

"No."

"It must have been Jim Lewis's crew then. We thought we noticed someone following us back in August and called in someone to check the apartment for bugs."

"The decorator?"

"Yes, do you guys miss anything?"

"Sometimes. Fincher and Lewis are very suspicious people. They are also very controlling. I'll bet they were very specific as to how you set up the deals you negotiated and they have to approve each of them. You said you thought they were following you and had your apartment bugged. I don't know about the bugs, but you were definitely being watched for the first couple weeks after 9/11."

"I found out sometime later that Jim Lewis's crew was watching me after I got back home. They called it watching out for me. They warned me that you were watching."

"They did?"

"Bart, you don't mind if I call you Bart, do you?"

"No."

"Bart, we have been watching you since before you went to Denver." That got his attention. "We believe that you are valuable to Fincher Fowler & Pratt, in spite of the call from Gordon Tildon to Fincher."

"How do you know about that?"

"We just do. That's all you need to know."

"After the attack, Fincher Fowler & Pratt insisted I take the train to get home. I have assumed it was so they could keep an eye on me."

"They had people on the train. So did we. Their guy was with you all the way from Denver to Penn Station. He probably was on the flight to Denver with you. We used four agents. We were a little surprised there was no one following you this morning."

"I think maybe I convinced Jim Lewis that I was okay and back to normal. I have made a lot of money for them over the past few years. I talked to him on Monday after I discovered Callie's true intentions. After a weekend of soul searching, I decided to go back to work and pretend that everything was alright. I told him I needed to get back to work. She was gone. I said I had been a mess but that I was facing facts and that I was ready to work. I didn't tell him about her note."

"Are you sure your apartment is not bugged now?"

"I'm pretty sure. Under the ruse of updating the apartment, I said I was changing out the light fixtures. I got a new computer desk and a new bed. It was a little expensive, but worth it."

Bart paused for a few seconds. "So, what happens next?"

"What would you like to happen next?"

"You guys may be able to do a lot of things, but there are some things that are just impossible."

"You have to tell us or we'll never know."

"You know what was the first thing I thought about when I heard about the attack? I needed to get back home to try to fix things between me and Callie."

"Oh, I suppose you're right. There are things we can't do."

"Okay, I've told you a little bit of what I know. You and I both know that I know a lot more. Let's just suppose that I'm willing to share with you. What can you do for me?"

"Would you be willing to testify?"

"Perhaps. What is it worth to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you want to put these guys out of business. I want to stay alive and have a life after this is all over. Maybe find a woman that will put up with me and I won't be stupid the next time and throw it all away for a few coins."

"You know that your cooperation with us is completely voluntary. If you help us, we can help you. We may not be able to keep you completely out of prison, but I promise even without your cooperation, we will eventually get enough evidence to take down Fincher Fowler & Pratt. If you don't help us, you will go down with the rest of the crooks. You have an opportunity here. The question is, are you smart enough to recognize it and take advantage of it. Bart, in the next few days, I will meet with the prosecutor and talk about our evaluation of your potential cooperation. The prosecutor may and probably will want to set up a meeting to talk to you directly. As you can imagine, there are huge security issues any time we meet. We don't want to jeopardize your safety, or the investigation. Preparing a case to present to a grand jury, which is what we will be doing will not be a fast process. The case will be carefully crafted to assure your safety and our mutual success resulting in convictions. You must be prepared to continue to perform your job with no changes in your performance that would lead Fincher Fowler & Pratt to believe that anything has changed."

"I understand. I've sort of been doing that since I got back. I've been trying to figure out how I could get out. I didn't know about all my predecessors, but I'm not surprised."

"Bart, today we don't expect you to commit to helping us. In fact I would be a little skeptical if you were willing to make that kind of commitment without taking time to think it over. We are concerned about your safety and security. In a few minutes, you will be free to leave this cabin. We are quite sure no one followed you this morning, but we suggest you take a different route home. Cross the Hudson on 287 and go down on the east side of the river or some other way. In a day or two, wear the tie. That will let us know you are with us. Then we will be in touch."

Two days later, he wore the tie. Bart's renewed travel schedule presented excellent opportunities for him to meet with Agent Maddox to discuss the information they needed. It also provided him an opportunity to get the information out of the office, in the form of customer files, to ostensibly work on at night. Bart was cooperative, but he was careful to provide information that could have come from several sources, not just him.

Bart continued to provide Agent Maddox with the information he requested, if he thought he could do it safely. In a meeting with Fincher and Lewis one day, Lewis gloated over the fact that the FBI was laying off. His source hadn't reported any activity directed toward Fincher Fowler & Pratt in weeks.

"That's great," Bart said.

He later reported that to Agent Maddox. Trent replied, "His leak has been plugged."

For months, Sam and Trent had hoped Callie Kramer would surface. They suspected she would surface as the result of a background check associated with her applying for a new job in the financial services industry. They speculated they might have to wait for quite a while, considering she took a tidy sum of cash with her when she left New York. When her name eventually showed up, it was on a list of New York Driver's Licenses surrendered to other states in January. Of course, by the time they saw the report, it was early March. Once they saw her name on that list, it was simply a matter of placing a phone call to the State of Florida Department of Motor Vehicles to get her current address. Now that they knew where she was and she didn't know that they knew, there was no need to be in any hurry, but they did want to speak to her.

Chapter 26

Micah finished up a project on March 26, in Hope, Arkansas. He rushed back to his RV and headed home. He parked in the lot behind the plumbing company a little after midnight. At 7 AM the next morning, before anyone arrived for work, he unloaded his pickup and left for the condo. He stopped at a grocery store with a flower shop and bought a dozen red roses. When he got to the condo, he didn't bother with his luggage. He only had one thing on his mind. At 8:05 he took a deep breath to calm his nerves and pressed the doorbell.

After what seemed like an eternity, Callie peered through the peep hole and instantly began unlocking the door. She threw it open and found Micah smiling in the breezeway. He held the flowers behind his back like he had seen in the movies and said, "Happy Birthday."

"Micah!" was all she could say before he brought the flowers around and held them for her to take.

"You shouldn't have," she said. Then she grinned. "But I'm glad you did. Thank you so much." She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

He felt very warm and happy. "I wanted it to be a surprise." He waited for her reaction.

"I can't believe you remembered it was my birthday." She beamed as she inhaled the scent of the roses. "I'm so glad you did." She looked up from the flowers. "How did you know it was my birthday?"

He looked at her with a very satisfied look. "I looked on your Driver's License when you showed it to me in January."

She suddenly remembered. "Oh, yeah. So what are you doing here?" She realized she was still holding his hand, but she didn't let it go.

They walked to the kitchen sink with her in tow. He used his free hand to open the cabinet door below. He reached inside and came out with a vase. "I came to help you celebrate your birthday."

"Seriously."

"I am serious." He held out the vase to her. "In case you don't want to hold those all day."

She took the vase, set it on the counter and arranged the flowers. When she finished, she turned back to him and said, "Thank you, again. They are beautiful."

He smiled and concentrated on remembering her as she was this instant. "Not as beautiful as you."

She turned slightly pink and pretended to ignore his compliment. "You never did really tell me why you are here."

"I came to celebrate your birthday from now to the end of the month. "

She was thrilled. Then her face fell. "That's only three days."

"I know," he smiled. "I have an ulterior motive. I have a job that starts April 8th in Vermont and I was wondering if you would like to go with me. I'll be up there pretty much the whole month of April. I was thinking you probably would like some new places to photograph. When I get finished there I have two weeks off before I have anything scheduled. I can bring you back here before I go to my next job in Tampa for three weeks or if you want, you can go with me on that job too. By then, it will be almost time for your lawyer to go to work and get you your divorce. You've got to be getting tired of hanging around here."

She looked surprised. "Can I think about it over breakfast?"

He answered much more confidently that he suddenly felt. "Sure."

"Where would you like to take me?"

He wondered if she realized what she had asked. He hesitated only a second. "Anywhere you want. Anytime you want," he said with a sly grin.

She either didn't catch his real meaning or decided to let it pass. "I want pancakes." She gave him an angelic smile.

"I know just the place. Now go get dressed, before I forget I'm a gentleman."

She flushed when she realized she had thrown on the Jets hoodie over a tee shirt to run to the door. All that was visible other than the hoodie was her beautiful face and shapely legs.

"Do I have time for a shower?"

"Can I scrub your back?"

She grinned, but said, "No."

"Then I guess you'll have plenty of time. While you're getting ready, I'll get my clothes from the truck."

When he returned, she was coming out of the bathroom. He looked at her and said, "Where is your red hair?"

"It washed down the drain. It was a temporary rinse and I had to keep putting it on about every week or so. I got tired of messing with it just after you were here in January. Which way do you prefer?"

"This is a trick question, isn't it?"

"No."

"I like you both ways. Your smile is more important to me than your hair color, because your smile makes me think you are happy."

She smiled. "I am."

"Let's go to breakfast."

Over pancakes and blueberry syrup, she spoke between bites. "Okay, let me get this straight. You are inviting me to go to Vermont where you will be working from the 8th to the end of the month."

"It is actually scheduled to wrap up April 26, but it could be a few days shorter if I get finished early."

"Then you are off for two weeks and you are planning to come back home."

"That's right."

"And then you are going to Tampa for three weeks."

"You've got it."

"You think you can put up with me for that long?"

"I think I can."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes. I'll go with you. I just hope I don't destroy the image I have worked so hard to create."

"I'm sure you won't. What would you like to do today?"

"Actually, I was thinking about going to the beach. I've never been swimming on my birthday before."

"That sounds like fun. I haven't been in the water yet this year."

"I hate to admit it, but I haven't even been in the pool since before Christmas."

"Well, let's get back to the condo and change all that."

They spent the rest of the day at the beach. The water in the gulf was still a little too cool for them to swim comfortably. After sunning to their heart's content, they swam in the pool for a little while to satisfy Callie's desire to swim on her birthday.

On their way back upstairs from the pool, she took his hand and said, "Thank you so much for coming today. This has been my best birthday ever. I was afraid I was going to be spending it alone."

"I couldn't let that happen. Now, we need to get upstairs and change clothes for dinner, I have reservations for dinner at this terrific little seafood restaurant that I know you like in Destin."

"Really?" she smiled and picked up the pace. "What time is the reservation?"

"Seven thirty-five."

"Seven thirty-five?"

"Yeah, I thought I would be a little different."

"You are definitely a little different."

Over dinner, the subject of the Vermont trip came up and Callie asked. "Instead of waiting, could we go ahead and leave in the next day or so and just make a road trip of it?"

"I don't know why not."

They talked about this and that while they ate their dinner. Toward the end of the meal, she asked, "Since we are going to be so close, do you think we could go into New York as we go up or come back?"

"I suppose we can. I'll leave it up to you. If we do, you may want to consider buying another wig. That way you could to go incognito and we can stay away from places where you might be recognized."

She smiled. "Sure, that will give us something to shop for on our road trip. I'm also looking for a new neck strap for my camera."

After dinner, they went back to the condo and sat on the balcony for a long time. "It is a beautiful night," he thought, "the end of a beautiful day with a beautiful woman."

She stood up to go inside.

"Happy Birthday," he said.

"Micah?"

"Yes?"

"I meant what I said. This has been my best birthday ever." She bent over and kissed him on the lips, then walked inside and went to bed.

His plan was working. When she kissed him, he wanted so badly to pull her into his arms, but he didn't. The time wasn't right yet.

The next morning, when he woke up and came out of his room, Callie had her bags packed and waiting in the hallway by the door. He smiled. "It looks like you are ready to start this road trip today."

"I am. As soon as you bring me the sheets from your bed, and your laundry, I can put them in to wash. As soon as they are dry we'll make up the beds and we'll be ready to go. That way we'll have clean sheets when we get home."

Micah smiled, and turned to go back into his room. "Yes, ma'am." He didn't know if it was significant, but she had said get home when she could have said get back. It was a happy thought.

It was a few minutes after ten o'clock when they started the pickup and pulled out of the garage. It was nearly eleven o'clock when they crossed over Choctawhatchee Bay. The road trip was under way. Micah stopped at the first country store along the road. He turned to Callie. "Okay, so here's the deal. This is your road trip. We have about 1500 miles in front of us. I don't have to be on the job site until April 8th, so we have eleven days to get there. As long as we cover at least 200 miles a day, we'll be there with several days to spare. There are three, more or less direct routes. We can go north from here to Birmingham, Chattanooga, and then northeast. We can go east for a few miles and then go up to Atlanta and to Charlotte and then north. We can go east to Jacksonville and then up along the east coast. The Jacksonville route will take us through Washington, DC. The two other routes stay west of the DC area. All three routes pass just west of New York City. The east route gets closest to New York. It goes through Newark. We can take one of those three or you can pick your own route. Which way would you like to go?"

She considered her choices for a minute. "I grew up in Tennessee. Let's take the middle route up and the east route back."

"You've got it." He put the motor home in gear and headed north. They easily made it to Lake Eufaula, on the Alabama-Georgia border on the first day. On the second day, they passed through Atlanta and continued to the Georgia-South Carolina border. It was in the afternoon of the second day that they stopped at an outlet mall in Georgia and Callie found a platinum blonde wig. On the third day, they stopped at Elkin, North Carolina. On the fifth day, they made it to Harrisburg PA. The next morning they stopped at another outlet mall and Callie bought a collar length carrot red wig. When it came time to make the final decision, Callie decided to wait for their stop in New York until their return trip. They arrived in Burlington on April 4th.

The fourth day they were in Burlington and his first day on the job, Micah's cell phone rang. The display showed his condo's management office. He answered the call, "Micah Marsh."

"Hi Micah, this is Barry."

"Hi Barry."

"You know you asked me to call you if anyone came by looking for you or your friend Callie, while you were gone."

"Yeah, did someone ask about us?"

"There were two FBI agents that just left a few minutes ago."

"Who were they looking for?"

"They asked about Callie. I'm a little concerned. I haven't seen her in several days. After they left, I went down to the garage. Your car is in its parking space."

"Don't worry. She told me she was going to take a trip. She has been talking about going to Europe. She may be gone for quite a while."

"Oh, that's a relief. She seems like a really nice lady."

"She is."

"Did they ask about me?"

"No, just her."

"Thanks for calling."

That night during dinner, Callie sensed something was wrong. "Is it going to be hard to fix their problem?"

"It's really too early to know. I'm still looking at the information I asked them to gather."

"So what's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've been around you enough to know that something is bothering you. Spill it. Maybe I can help."

"Before I left in October to go on the road for the first time, I went down and talked to the building manager. You remember him, his name is Barry. Well, I asked him to call me if anyone ever came around looking for either of us."

"Okay."

"I got a call today. Two FBI agents were looking for you today."

"Oh, what did he tell them?"

"He told them the truth. He hasn't seen you in a few days. He said after they left, he went down to the garage and my car is in its parking place."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him that you told me you were going to take a trip. Then I told him that you had been talking about going to Europe."

Callie listened carefully and then said, "I knew they would eventually find me."

"You know they will be back."

"Well, it's been three months since I got my new Driver's License. I suppose I should be surprised that it took them this long to come looking for me."

"They haven't found you yet."

"When they find me, Bart will find out that I'm still alive, if he doesn't already know. I was really hoping to be ready to file for divorce before having to deal with him."

"Well, for now, we can try to enjoy Vermont until I'm finished up here. To give you some more time, we could go from here to the job in Tampa, if you still want to go. It would probably be best if we don't go back to my place, but you know, sooner or later, they will start looking for my pickup and this RV."

She looked troubled. "I don't want to get you into trouble."

He didn't seem the least bit concerned. "I haven't done anything, except taxi a friend around the country."

Her apprehension vanished and was replaced with a smile. "You are so sweet."

He reached across the table and picked up her hand. "By the time I get finished with the Tampa job, you will almost be a Florida resident. You'll probably need to meet with your attorney by then to make sure everything is ready. I'll go back with you then. I'll reschedule things if I have to. I am going to be there for you."

"You don't have to be. Mr. Littleton said he would be glad to be with me when I talk to them."

"He can be there too, but I'm going to be with you. I sort of feel responsible for you." She suddenly felt warm all over.

The Fincher Fowler & Pratt investigation team was reduced to six agents again in mid April. Trent called a staff meeting. He opened the meeting. "There aren't many of us left, but we are still making progress. As you know, our investigation has been taken off the task list at headquarters. I now report our progress directly to the Assistant US Attorney. It is critical that Fincher Fowler & Pratt believe our investigation has been abandoned. In the past few days, we have made some progress in locating Callie Kramer. We now know she has turned in her New York Driver's License for a Florida License. When we sent someone to interview her yesterday, she wasn't home. The manager at the condo said she had been there since mid September but he hadn't seen her in several days. They will check back in a few days. On the other side of the ledger, Bart is doing just about everything we ask of him. He is just moving very slowly. He seems to be moving very carefully. He keeps telling me he is only giving me information that is available to other people, as well as him. Eventually, we are going to have to get some information that only he has. We may get some resistance on that. Lately he has been asking if he had to do any time, how long would it be. I think he is getting nervous."

Callie and Micah enjoyed their time in Vermont. She spent her days taking photographs and her nights editing them. The first two weeks flew by in the blink of an eye. He had never experienced a situation in his adult life in which someone was waiting for him every day when he got home from work, and he liked it. He liked it a lot. In fact, he had to be careful not to start fantasizing about this becoming a permanent situation. He had to remind himself frequently that his assistance to his friend was strictly as a friend and nothing more. Maybe if he repeated it to himself enough times he would start to believe it.

Chapter 27

In mid April, Bart realized that Agent Maddox had not made any comments lately about things that were going on in his apartment. He decided to test his theory so he invited Jayne Johnson and her boys up to his apartment for pizza. He figured the sight of three boys and a woman in the apartment would eventually elicit some comment or observation from the agent.

The project in Burlington progressed ahead of schedule and at the end of the second week, Micah believed he would wrap it up by Wednesday instead of the next Friday as scheduled.

Friday night, he took Callie to dinner at a restaurant that had been recommended by the plant manager. "This place is fancy," she said as they slowed to turn in to the parking lot.

"Harry said they had the best seafood in town. I'm not sure exactly what that means, but we'll take a chance."

"Lead the way."

The seafood was excellent and the surroundings were once again more romantic than he had intended. When they finished their meal, he said, "It looks like I'll finish up here by sometime Wednesday."

"That's great."

"It is, but then it isn't. That will mean there is nearly two and a half weeks before I have to be in Tampa."

"I don't get it. What is the problem with that?"

"I just don't want you to have to be stuck with me for another three or four days when I'm not going to work and I'll be getting in your way."

Callie looked up from her plate and gazed at him for a few seconds before she smiled and said, "I never think of you as being in my way. I like spending time with you."

"Are you sure?"

"I am absolutely certain of it." She reached across the table and put her hand on top of his.

He couldn't think of anything to say and he wasn't sure his voice would have worked if he had tried. All he could do was sit across the table from her and smile. As he sat watching her beautiful face, he began to fear that she could feel his pulse racing. He finally took a deep breath, gently pulled his hand from under hers and said, "I suppose we should get on back."

"I suppose so."

On the drive back to the RV, he asked. "Since this is our last weekend up here, is there anything you want to see or anything you want to do?"

"Can we go to Canada?"

He drove on in silence for a few blocks before he replied, "I suppose we can, but if the FBI is looking for you, do you want them to know you are here, now?"

"No, you're right. I would rather meet with them in Florida on my terms, with my attorney."

On Wednesday, just before he met with the plant manager for his exit conference, Micah called Callie to let her know he would be finished in an hour or so. When he got back to the campground, he could see that she had been busy. The fresh water and waste water lines, the electricity and the cable TV was disconnected. The leveling jacks were retracted. Inside the RV, everything was fastened down to travel.

He stepped inside the door and smiled. "It looks like someone has had all of Vermont that she wants."

Callie looked up from her Modern Photographer magazine. "I just thought I would be helpful."

"I take it you don't want to stick around here for a few more days."

She frowned. "Did you want to stay?"

"No. I'm ready for a change of scenery, too." He headed to his room to change clothes.

"Good, let's go to Florida."

She went back to reading "Modern Photographer". In a few minutes he emerged from his bedroom. "What about New York? I thought you wanted to stop there for a few days."

"I've done a lot of thinking since we've been up here and have changed my mind. New York is an exciting place, but right now it is full of reminders from a part of my life that is over. I'm not going back to Bart, so I have no reason to go back to New York. Some day, maybe I'll go back."

He nodded his head. "I think maybe I understand. So, what do you want to do?"

"I would like to treat us to a vacation until your next job. Then I'll get you to take me back to Seagrove. I'll talk to my lawyer and I may have him get in touch with the FBI if they don't come knocking on my door pretty soon after I get back."

Micah was confused. "You mentioned a vacation. What are you thinking?"

"Oh, I don't know. I would like for us to go some place fun, but I don't want to put you to anymore expense than you have already had on my account."

"Don't worry about that."

"You would normally go to your condo until it is time to go to your next job. Right?"

"I suppose, but not always."

"If we go back to Seagrove now, there is a good chance that the FBI will come knocking and I'm not ready for Bart to find out I'm not dead, yet."

"That's reasonable."

"So, let's just go anywhere else until your next job. I'll pay the campground fees."

"Let's not worry about that. Where would you like to go on this vacation? There are campgrounds almost everywhere. We don't have to necessarily go back to Florida, just now."

"I suppose not."

"There are a lot of possibilities between here and Tampa. There are mountains, rivers, beaches, big cities and quiet little towns. What tickles your fancy?"

"Well, it is beautiful up here, but I'm really missing the beach. Can we go someplace on the Gulf Coast?"

"Have you ever been to Myrtle Beach?"

"South Carolina?"

"Yes."

"No, but it's not on the gulf coast."

"I know, but it is a lot closer to Vermont."

She chuckled and smiled. "You've convinced me. Let's go."

"When we get there, if it isn't warm enough for you, we'll go on to Seagrove. We can stay in the RV where I park it and drive over to the beach, anytime you want to go."

"Are you're sure it will be alright for us to stay in the camper at that plumbing place?"

"I'm sure. I own the building."

"Oh, that's handy."

"I thought so. That's why I bought the place."

Once they left Burlington, Micah noticed Callie was not her usual self. Over the miles, she became quieter and more serious as if something was weighing heavily on her mind. Three days later, they arrived at a campground in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.

When he had the RV situated just like he wanted, he turned off the engine and turned to face Callie. "Okay, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, ever since we left Burlington, you have been this very somber, almost mute woman in the seat beside me. That is not you. What is wrong?"

"I've just been thinking."

"That is rather obvious. I don't think you've said one word to me in the last 200 miles. What are you thinking?"

"I'm ready to move on."

"I thought that is what you did in September."

"I did, but I didn't move far enough."

"I'm not sure I follow you."

"It's hard to explain. Before I left New York, I felt like I had a life. It certainly wasn't the life I wanted, but it was mine. Since September, I feel like I have been borrowing yours. The only things I've really done to get on with my life is talking to Mr. Littleton and getting a Florida Driver's License."

"You have also taken up photography and your pictures are really great."

"I don't know about that, but I just feel like I'm hiding out and I'm tired of it."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"So, what are you doing to hide out?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I don't think you are hiding out."

"Of course I am."

"I don't think so. You got a new Driver's License. A person that is hiding doesn't do that. If you were hiding, you would continue to use your New York license. You are establishing a Florida residence to allow you to resolve a legal issue. If you were hiding, you might try to get a Driver's License using a phony name. You are staying with a friend. The fact that you are paying for everything with cash is just the way you wish to do business. Just because you haven't seen the need to look for a job or use a credit card is just the way you choose to live your life at this time.

If I didn't have to work, I wouldn't. I'm not sure anyone would. Eventually you might go back to work, but for now you choose not to. The fact that you are not at the address listed on your new Driver's License doesn't prove anything either."

"When you put it like that, I don't guess I am hiding. I'm just not advertising my presence."

"Exactly. Now, I would like for you to try to enjoy yourself for a few days. Remember, we don't have to be in Tampa until May 13th."

Their first few days and nights in Myrtle Beach alternately flew by and dragged at the same time. On their second day, Callie found the camera strap she wanted. It was bright green with big white polka dots.

"Wow, is that thing bright enough?" Micah asked, when he first saw it.

She was slightly indignant. "Don't make fun. The new Callie is bright and bold. It reminded me of good old Greeneville High. Go Green Devils. I wanted something unique and this is perfect."

He smiled and squeezed her hand. "The new Callie is perfect."

She beamed. "Thank you."

During the days, time flew by as they occupied themselves with sunning on the beach, shopping and sightseeing. The evenings were an entirely different matter. At the end of each day, they carefully danced around the topic that was never far from their minds, especially at bedtime. At the reunion, nearly a year before, two old friends renewed their friendship. At various times since, they had both entertained thoughts of what might have been or what might someday be.

When Micah offered his help to his friend at the reunion, he hoped that someday, when the time was right, he could share how he felt about her. When he made his offer, she wondered how someone could make such an offer after only being together a few hours. In her desperation to get away from Bart, she took advantage of the opportunity presented. She didn't know if Micah had feelings for her, but as the days passed after September, 11, 2001, she knew she was beginning to have feelings for him.

How they spent so much time, so close together and she never acted upon those feelings amazed her daily. Some nights she went to sleep wondering how it would feel to wake up in the morning, wrapped in his arms in that king size bed at the other end of the RV. At first it was occasionally, but recently it was every night. She didn't know that when he went to the campground bath house for a shower, most nights he was taking a cold one. He also thought about waking up with his arms around the woman that had consumed his thoughts since he had the opportunity to talk to her at the reunion. Many nights they each laid awake on opposite ends of the RV with eyes wide open, watching time pass, minute by minute until sometime before morning, finding the refuge of sleep.

After three weeks and no comment from Agent Maddox, Bart decided they must not have his apartment under constant surveillance any more. He was right. That operation had ended two weeks before his pizza night. After no comments about Jayne and her boys, he felt a little freer with his coming and going. He felt like it was safe to drop in at Self Service Storage and add to his nest egg in unit 309. On his next visit, he stopped in at the office and made what he thought might be considered a strange request.

"I would like to talk to the owner or the manager."

"I'm the owner."

"Great. I'm interested in prepaying for my storage unit. I don't want to forget."

"Sure. People prepay all the time. How far ahead would you like to pay?"

With a straight face, he said, "Twenty years."

The owner made some quick calculations. "That's 240 months. You realize that's $6000."

"I know. I would like to pay it in cash."

"It is highly irregular, but I guess I can do it." He thought for a few seconds more. "Sure, I can do that."

In five minutes, money exchanged hands and Bart's storage unit was prepaid until 2022.

On their fifth morning in Myrtle Beach, after washing the breakfast dishes, Micah asked, "What would you like to do today?"

Her answer surprised him. "I think I'm ready to go to Seagrove Beach."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Okay, I'll call Bill so that he won't be surprised when he sees this monster parked in the back lot."

"Oh, and about your idea to stay in the RV. Let's forget that. You and I both know it is silly to hang out in a parking lot when you have that beautiful condo overlooking the beach, just a few miles away. Let's go to the condo so you can sit on your balcony and enjoy the view. When we get back, I'll go see Mr. Littleton and see what he recommends."

"Are you sure that's what you want to do?"

"These days, I'm not sure that I'm certain about anything, but I'm pretty sure I want to do this. The simple fact is that I had nothing to do with Bart's business dealings. The sooner the FBI understands that, the sooner they will leave me alone so I can get on with my life."

In what had become a routine operation, Callie helped Micah get the RV ready for the road. By noon, they were driving across South Carolina. Just across the Georgia border they stopped close to Augusta to spend the night. On Friday morning, they were up and on the road at eight. By four, they were stopping at Micah's parking place behind the Plumbing Supply Company. As before, he unloaded his pickup outside the gate before pulling the RV and trailer into its parking place along the fence. When he had the RV situated just where he wanted, he said, "Come on inside, there is someone I would like you to meet."

"Oh, okay."

Micah took her by the hand and led her through a tinted glass door into the showroom. Callie had never been inside a plumbing showroom. In fact, until this moment, she had no idea this type place existed. The showroom was obviously split into two sections, kitchens and baths, with about 75% of the display space devoted to bathroom fixtures. The lighting and the displays made her want to buy plumbing fixtures. It reminded her of a jewelry store, except for the definite smell of PVC plastic and some sort of glue smell, probably coming from the back room.

"Hello, Mr. Marsh," a young man with the beginnings of a beard, called from behind the counter.

"Hi Bobby, is your dad in today."

"Yes, sir. He's in his office."

"Thanks." Micah walked with Callie as she quickly looked over the bathtubs and shower displays.

"This is incredible. I had no idea places like this existed."

"I guess we need to do more advertising."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Come on, I want you to meet Bob." He led her down a little hallway, past a bulletin board with all kinds of official looking posters, past the water fountain, to an open doorway. Micah knocked on the door frame. Bob looked up as he and Callie stepped into his line of site. He smiled. "Hello Micah, it looks like you have stepped up your game to a whole new level." He stood up and walked around his desk. He extended his hand to Callie and said, "Hello, my name is Bob Cranford."

Callie extended hers. "Callie Kramer."

"Callie Kramer, it is indeed a pleasure to meet you." He looked at Micah and raised his eyebrows.

She smiled. "It's nice to meet you too, Bob."

"Micah, where have you been hiding this beautiful woman?"

Micah smiled at Callie, "On trains, an RV and my condo."

"No, seriously."

"Actually, she is an old friend I'm helping out, for a while."

Bob turned back to Callie. "When you get bored with this guy, give me a call." He handed her his business card.

Micah reached over and took Bob's card from her. She smiled and looked from Bob to Micah and said, "Okay, guys what is the deal?"

"What do you mean?" Micah asked.

"I really hadn't paid much attention to the name of the business out front, but now it is starting to make sense. C&M Plumbing. I see that you are Cranford." She looked at Bob and he nodded. She turned to Micah. "Are you the M?"

"Afraid so. Bob and I are partners. Does that surprise you?"

"Not that much, now that I think about it. Wasn't your dad a plumber?"

"Yes, he was." He turned to Bob. "Nothing gets past this woman. She is a professional researcher. I think she might be a good detective. She watches, pays attention, remembers and then puts things together."

"How long are you going to be in town?" Bob asked.

"I have to be in Tampa on the 13th. I'll probably go down on the eleventh or twelfth. Why?"

"The end of the second quarter is coming up and I think we need to look at the financials and make some decisions about the fall."

"Okay, how about if I come in Tuesday morning?"

"Okay."

"Come on Callie. Let's go out there and get our stuff loaded into the truck and go home."

She smiled. The phrases, "our stuff" and "going home" sounded really good. She just wished he would wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything was going to work out. They were transferring everything they needed from the RV to the pickup when Micah's cell phone rang. He looked at the display and then looked at Callie.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"It's Barry."

"Oh," she said as she watched him with concern.

He took a deep breath and answered the call. "Hello." There was no need for Barry to know that he already knew who was calling.

"Hello, Micah. It's Barry."

"Hi Barry."

"Micah, the reason I called is that those guys came back around today."

"The ones asking about Callie?"

"Yeah, the very same ones."

"What did they want?"

"They said they needed to talk to her."

"Did they say anything else?"

"They asked if I had any idea where she went."

"What did you say?"

"I said one of the owners said she had been talking about taking a trip, maybe to Europe."

"I really appreciate you calling me, Barry."

"This time they left their cards and asked me to call them if I see her back around here."

"Is this the first time they have been around since you called a few days ago?"

"Yep. Oh, one other thing. I'm leaving this afternoon on my vacation. I promised the wife and kids I would take them to see her parents in Missouri. I will be gone for about nine days, so I won't be able to let you know if anyone else comes by. Do you want me to get someone else to call you if anyone asks about you or your friend?"

"No. I don't think so. So, you're leaving soon?"

"As soon as I hang up the phone."

"Well, I don't want to keep you. Have a great vacation. I think I'll be back in town around the first of June. We should get together then."

"Sounds like a plan. Bye."

"Bye."

Micah ended the call and turned to Callie. "We shouldn't have to worry about the FBI coming around for a few days. Barry said they came by this afternoon. They asked him to call if he sees you, but fortunately for us, he is leaving for his vacation, right now. Let's go home, but to make sure he has time to leave, let's have dinner first."

For three days, Callie and Micah enjoyed themselves at his condo. On Tuesday, he went to see Bob to discuss their business. She took advantage of the opportunity to make an appointment with Mr. Littleton for later that afternoon. After she got off the phone, she walked out on the balcony. She leaned over the railing and looked left and right and down and discovered that she could not see into any of the other balconies. She was laying on a lounge chair on the balcony working on her tan when he returned from his business meeting. She heard the front door open. She reached for the towel on the chair beside her, wrapped up, and walked past him on her way to her room.

When she came back into the living room a few minutes later, he asked, "How did you do that?"

She smiled and pretended not to know what he was talking about. "How did I do what?"

"How did you know I was back home?"

"Easy. I bought a baby monitor. The transmitter is under the table by the front door. I took the monitor out on the balcony."

"Aren't you a smartie?"

"I didn't want you to catch me."

"What were you doing out there."

"Working on a no line tan."

"What is a no line tan?"

"It is a tan that has no lines."

"Oh," he said and began to grin. "I kinda wish I had caught you."

"Now, Mr. Marsh."

"I know. I'm a bad boy sometimes."

"Oh really?"

"Okay, we need to change the subject." Micah looked away for a second or two and then back. "It looks like we are going to have a great year at C&M Plumbing." The mood immediately switched back to the more comfortable interactions of two old friends discussing the events of the day.

"That's great. I made an appointment with Mr. Littleton for this afternoon."

"Good for you. Have you made any decisions about the FBI?"

"Actually, I have. I think I want to share some information with them."

"How are you going to do that?"

"I have an idea. I would like for you to go with me this afternoon and I can tell you and Mr. Littleton at the same time."

"Sure, what time?"

"3:30."

"Okay, have you had lunch?"

"No. You?"

"Let's go."

After their late lunch they arrived at Mr. Littleton's office at 3:15. They were ushered right in to see him.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Kramer." He shook hands with Callie and turned to Micah. "Bill Littleton."

"Micah Marsh." The two men shook hands.

"Well, Mrs. Kramer, what can I do for you today?"

"Well, Mr. Littleton, I've decided it is time to get things moving in my life again and I would like to clear things up with the FBI, on my terms, instead of theirs. I brought my friend Mr. Marsh with me so that I could tell both of you my idea at the same time."

"It's Bill."

"Okay Bill, you can call me Callie."

"You can call me Micah."
"Okay, let's get started, what do you have in mind?"

"When I left my husband, he had some computer diskettes stored in a basement storage room at our apartment. Bart is a creature of habit. I suspect he still stores the diskettes there. I would like for the FBI to know about the diskettes."

"Okay, how do you wish to make contact?"

"I would like for you to make contact with Agent Trent Maddox. He works out of New York City. You will have to find his contact information. Tell him that you have a client that knows the location of some evidence that may be of value regarding Fincher Fowler & Pratt. If he is interested, he can contact you."

She took a breath and continued. "If he is interested, you can tell him the diskettes are in a box labeled pictures on the top shelf in the basement storage room for Bart Kramer's apartment in Brooklyn. In the basement, the storage room is 4B."

When she finished, she waited for a reaction from her attorney. "Okay, Callie." He smiled. "This will probably take some time to play out. In fact, in your case, the longer it takes, the better. It is still almost two months until we can file for your divorce. We don't want to stir things up too much, so, I'll have my secretary make some calls. When we have a contact address, I will send a letter. They may decide to contact you directly, so if you have someplace to go, it might be a good idea to be unavailable at your official address."

Callie looked to Micah and then back to Bill. "I think that can be arranged. I assume you don't really want to know where I will be."

"That is correct. I have Micah's condo telephone number as your contact number. I don't see any need to have any other contact number for you. I trust you will be in touch when you get back to town."

"Count on it."

"Do you have any idea when you might possibly be back?"

Micah spoke up. "July 9th."

"Now regarding your divorce, when do you want to file?"

"I think I would like to wait until after the FBI does whatever they do to get the diskettes. If Bart knows I'm alive, it might cause him to think to move the diskettes. Of course, if they move on it before July 10, I want to be ready to file then."

"That sounds fair enough. I will request that they contact me after they have possession of the diskettes. Remember, I will need your signature on the forms on July 10 to file."

"Okay. What time does your office open?"

"Eight o'clock."

"Then I'll be here at eight o'clock on July 10th."

He pulled a business card from a holder on his desk. He turned it over and wrote something on the back. "Here is my card. My home number is on the back if you need me after hours. If you want to call and check on anything, I suggest using a pay phone."

Chapter 28

Callie spent the rest of the week resisting the urge to call Bill Littleton. She knew it was too soon to expect any results from her offer to the FBI. On Saturday morning, she and Micah packed up and returned to the RV. Saturday afternoon, they arrived in Tampa and setup for three very long weeks.

Into the second week of the job, he came home one afternoon and asked, "Are you ready for another road trip?"

"Sure, where?"

"Helena, Montana. I got a call from the same company that I was working for last September. They want me to come to Helena and do basically the same thing I did in Sheridan, WY."

She looked down at her shorts and tank top. "I think I will probably need to take some different clothes."

"Me too. We'll have to go back to the condo. We can park the RV at C&M and sneak over to the condo in the middle of the night, pick up our clothes and get back on the road."

"Do you think I should call Bill?"

"It would probably be a good idea, but I don't think I would call him with your new cell phone."

She looked at him and grinned. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"It may be time to buy another prepaid phone?"

"That's just what I was thinking. I can take you to work in the morning. Then I'll drive to Orlando and buy a phone."

On May 20, Bart made another trip to Denver. On his first night in town, he was surprised when he looked up during dinner to see Trent Maddox standing beside his table.

Maddox faked a smile. "Mind, if I have a seat."

Bart looked back at his plate. "It's a free country, at least so far."

The FBI agent pulled the chair out from the table. "I see you are developing a sense of humor."

"Are you going to stand there or sit down?" In an attempt to appear totally bored in the situation, Bart cut a piece of his steak and took a bite.

Maddox sat down. "Bart, we need to talk."

When he finished that bite, he said, "I think that's what we're doing now." He immediately began to cut another piece of the steak.

Maddox leaned in close to the table and in a low but forceful voice said, "Look, I've been really patient with you. You have given me a lot of good information, but now I need details. I need dates, account numbers, and amounts to tie all this stuff together. I need the stocks and weighting factors." "Look you, I've explained it all to you before. I have to find records that are available to more people than just me at the firm, or they will know I gave it to you and trace it right back to me. That will not be good for you, and definitely not me."

"Where are you going to find information like that?"

"I don't exactly know. That's why I told you I'm looking. The problem is that once everything is set up, there is no communication necessary between the people making the deposits and anyone at the firm. For each legitimate business in the project, additional cash is added to the daily bank deposit. The amount of the extra cash deposited varies each day based on the previous day's closing price of a certain stock that was selected at the time the project was designed. There is also a multiplier, based on the day of the week. I can find the records where the corporation purchased each of the cash businesses, but I haven't found all the rest of it. Remember, my job is to set up the business structure. Someone else does the rest. In one of them I put together about twelve cash businesses. Pawn shops, concession stands, barber shops, beauty shops, rental furniture and electronic stores, restaurants and donut shops. In each case, the new management company insists that cash deposits be made separate from the checks. All the managers know is that a guy picks up the deposit each day. What they don't know is that the parent company charges a hefty management fee that matches the extra deposits made daily. If you know the base stock and the multiplier, you know how much extra cash is deposited every day. The firm charges a fee of about 25 percent of all the money that is moved through the system."

"So, if you have the base stock and the multiplier, on any given day you can calculate the amount of money moving through the system."

"The multiplier is complex, but yes, that's about it."

"Who in the firm monitors these operations?"

"I don't know."

"Surely you have some idea."

"I expect one of the computer guys set it up, but who actually monitors it is anyone's guess."

"So you are telling me, you set all this stuff up, but you don't know the base stocks and the multiplier."

"That's right."

"Look Bart, you are going to have to get me something I can use. Otherwise I'm not going to be able to help you like you want."

"I'm doing the best I can. I think I'm getting close, but I have to be careful, I can't rush."

"Look Bart, I'm going to go, but you've got to get me something."

On May 21st, a letter for Trent Maddox was dropped into his in box. It lay, unopened until he returned from Denver on Friday afternoon. He had other things on his mind and didn't bother opening a letter from William Littleton, Attorney at Law. If he had noticed the return address was Destin, FL, he might have taken the time to open it and look inside.

On May 28, in their regular Tuesday staff meeting, there was nothing new in the Fincher Fowler & Pratt investigation. Trent Maddox asked the group, "What is happening with our efforts to locate Callie Kramer?"

"Agents from Tallahassee have been to her Seagrove Beach address, twice. Her address is a condominium owned by a Micah L. Marsh. Marsh is an independent consulting engineer. As far as we can ascertain, he is not associated with any organization that can be queried to find his current location. It appears that he is based in Seagrove Beach, Florida, but travels extensively. No one has seen Mrs. Kramer at the condo since late March. On their last visit, the manager told the agents he had spoken with Mr. Marsh and was told that Mrs. Kramer was planning to take a trip and she had mentioned going to Europe. We don't believe she has gone to Europe. We suspect that she is with Mr. Marsh. Her passport has expired."

"What is the status of Mr. Kramer's cooperation?"

"When we first started our discussions, we felt very optimistic that we would soon have all the information we need to go to a grand jury. Lately, as we have progressed to the point where he needs to provide specific transaction records, he has become hesitant. He says he doesn't have access to that information. I don't believe him.

"We may have to find another source."

"I know. I just don't know where we will find it."

The knock on his door frame later that afternoon demanded Sam Water's attention. "Sam, you aren't going to believe what I found on my desk."

"What?"

"It's a letter from an attorney in Destin, Florida, that claims a client of his knows about the location of information he says might be of interest to us regarding one of our investigations."

"Let's see it."

He handed the letter to Sam. When Sam finished reading it, he turned back to Trent. "How shall we proceed?"

"Of course we will contact him and determine if the information is credible."

"I suspect our attorney friend represents Mrs. Kramer."

"This could be the break we've been needing."

"Before we get ahead of ourselves, we need to contact William Littleton."

"Who is going to make the call?"

"Your name is on the letter."

"Okay. Mind if I use your phone?"

Sam pushed the telephone across the desk. Trent put the letter on the desk and began to dial. When it started to ring, he sat back and waited for an answer. Unfortunately, it was later in the afternoon than they realized. "You've reached the law offices of William Littleton. Our office hours are 8 am to 3:30 pm, Monday through Friday. Please leave a message and someone will return your call."

Trent reached up and pressed the button to disconnect the call. "I'll call back tomorrow."

The next morning at eight o'clock, Sam walked into Trent's office. "Are you ready to make the call?"

"Yes, but that part of Florida is in the Central Time Zone. We've still got an hour to wait."

"Oh yeah, I'll be back in an hour."

An hour later, Trent was dialing the number when Sam stepped through the door of his office. He waved him into a chair across from his desk. The telephone began to ring as Sam sat down.

"Law Offices of William Littleton."

"William Littleton please."

"Whom shall I say is calling?"

"FBI Special Agent Trent Maddox."

"Yes sir, Agent Maddox, he's been expecting your call."

There was a few seconds of hold music followed by a click.

"Good morning, Agent Maddox, I've been expecting your call."

"Mr. Littleton, I got your letter yesterday and must admit that I am intrigued."

"Please, call me Bill. I suspected that you would be."

"Okay, Bill. In your letter, you said you have a client that knows the location of some information that might be of interest. Mr. Littleton, we can't just run around serving search warrants every time someone says they know the location of some information. It just doesn't work that way. We will need specific credible information from a reliable source."

"I understand that sir. That is why I sent a letter instead of picking up the phone and calling you."

"Your letter said the information you speak of could be important in an investigation. Can you tell me the name of the person being investigated?"

"Fincher Fowler & Pratt."

There was silence as Trent and Sam looked at each other. Sam mouthed, "Mrs. Kramer," to Trent. He nodded.

"Bill, is your client, Callie Kramer."

"Yes, Agent Maddox, Callie Kramer is my client."

"Okay, Mr. Littleton, what does she want?"

"What does she want?"

"Yes, what does she want?"

"Agent Maddox, she only wants a divorce from her husband, Bart Kramer. She assures me, she has no knowledge of any of the activities of her husband or Fincher Fowler & Pratt. So, other than immunity from prosecution, she has no requirements."

"Have you seen this information?"

"No. She has described it to me."

"If we are interested, how do we go about getting this information from her?"

"I can either send you a letter describing the location of the information, or I can tell you the location right now. There is only one request by Mrs. Kramer. If you acquire the evidence, she asks that you notify me."

"Why that?"

"Mrs. Kramer will meet the residency requirements to file for a divorce in the State of Florida on July 10th. She intends to file on July 10th, but does not want to file for divorce and have Mr. Kramer served, if you have not taken what ever action you wish, with regard to the information I am offering to give you."

"I see. If you can give me the location over the telephone, please do." Agent Maddox reached for his pen.

"The information is contained in diskettes which are in a box labeled pictures on the top shelf in the basement storage unit of Bart Kramer's apartment in Brooklyn. In the basement, the storage room is 4B."

"Thank you, Mr. Littleton. It could take a while, but we'll be in touch."

Trent ended the call and turned to Agent Waters. "What do you think?"

"I think it could be the break we've been looking for."

"What do we do with Bart Kramer?"

"It will probably depend on what we find in those diskettes. He has been stringing us along for too long, claiming he doesn't know about transaction specifics. If the diskettes show otherwise, he is going to have to do some fancy explaining."

"Do we know where he is?"

"He has been in his office all week."

"How do we want to move?"

"It shouldn't be any problem getting a warrant. I think it would be better if we served it on the building management since it is in a storage room and not his apartment proper."

"I agree, and if we do it while he is at work, it will be even better."

"Do you want to give him one more opportunity to come clean?"

"Yes, let's go ahead and get the warrant. We'll plan to serve it next Monday morning. Between now and then I'll meet with him and give him one more chance to come clean before we potentially pull the rug out from under him."

On the morning of May 29th, Micah and Callie packed the RV and headed north. An hour north of Tampa they stopped to eat. After breakfast, she switched on her new cell phone and called Bill Littleton from the parking lot of the restaurant. When his secretary answered the phone, she said, "Bill Littleton please, Callie Kramer calling."

"Hold please."

A few seconds later, Bill came on the line. "Hi, Callie."

"Hello, Bill. Is there any word on our project?"

"As we expected, they are interested. I gave them the information yesterday morning. They said it could be several days before they would be back in touch. I told them we were in no hurry."

"Very good, I'll be back in touch in a few days."

She ended the call and turned to Micah. "It's time to go."

"Just to be safe, turn off the phone and we'll get rid of it, the first chance we get."

They took their time and arrived at C&M Plumbing at around 7:30 pm. They unloaded the pickup and drove to the condo. In twenty minutes, they gathered the clothes they wanted and headed back to the RV. Three hours later, they stopped for the night at a rest area, near Montgomery, Alabama. At the end of their second day, they stopped at a campground between St. Louis and Columbia, Missouri. The third day found them at Mitchell, South Dakota, for the night.

Agent Maddox arranged a meeting for Friday night with Bart Kramer, but he was no more forthcoming than the last two or three times they had gotten together. Bart still maintained that he didn't have access to the information the agent wanted.

At 10:15 on Monday morning, June 3rd, five FBI agents walked into the building manager's office and asked for the manager. Jayne Johnson walked to the counter.

One of the agents flashed his ID and said, "I'm Special Agent Robert Kirby. We are here to serve a search warrant for one of your basement storage rooms." He handed her a copy of the warrant.

It took Jayne a minute to catch up. "Alright which unit?"

"4B."

She immediately knew the unit in question belonged to Bart Kramer. "Which tenant?" she asked, to make sure there was no mistake with the unit number.

"Bartlett Kramer."

"Okay." She wondered what would interest the FBI in the Kramer's storage. "If you'll follow me, I'll take you to it."

She led the five agents down a flight of stairs to the basement. She stopped at the door to unit 4B and unlocked it with her master key. She swung the door open into the hallway and stepped aside. She was sad that Bart was involved in something worthy of a Federal Search Warrant, but she also knew she was not going to do anything that could be construed as being uncooperative. She leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway as the agents began to look through the items in the room.

The first agent into the room seemed to be looking for something in particular. He seemed very pleased when he pulled a box from the top shelf and set it on the floor. The top came off the box and he began to look at the contents. The longer he looked inside the box, the more frustrated he seemed to become. She heard him tell the others. "It's probably not here, but we might as well check everything to make sure."

Over the course of the next half hour, the agents brought everything out of the unit and stacked it in the hall. They moved the shelves to look under them. They looked in each of the boxes and containers in the room. Eventually they put everything back into the room, but they made no effort to put it back like it was. It was going to take Bart quite a while to put it back together. When the agents left, it was obvious that whatever they were looking for was not found.

Jayne verified the storage unit door was locked and rode the elevator up to the ground floor with the agents. She walked them to the door and watched as they returned to their cars. When she got back to her desk, she looked up Bart Kramer's contact number and began to dial.

"Bart Kramer."

"Bart, this is Jayne Johnson. Some FBI agents showed up here about an hour ago with a search warrant for your basement storage room. I don't know what they were looking for, but I don't think they found anything. Bart, what's going on?"

He had to think fast. He decided to go with the story he had been told so many times. "Nothing. They are just on a witch hunt. They decide to investigate our firm about every five years and I guess this time they are going to look at what I do. It's nothing to worry about."

"They left the place in quite a mess."

"I guess that will give me something to do in the evenings this week. I'm sorry for any trouble I caused you."

"Don't worry about it. I hope they will leave you alone now."

"I hope so too," he said, knowing that was unlikely to happen any time soon.

"If there is anything I can do to help you with straightening up or anything at all, you have my number."

"Thanks Jayne, you are a gem."

"I could be so much more," she thought, but actually said, "I thought you would like to know about the mess before you got home tonight."

"Thanks again, I need to get back to work now."

"Sure, bye, maybe I'll see you tonight."

"Maybe so. Good bye." He hung up the phone and breathed a sigh of relief. He was so glad he decided to move the diskettes to the rental storage unit. Then he thought about Jayne. He shook his head and frowned. Jayne was clearly interested, but waiting for him to make the first move. It had been almost a year. Maybe he could start seeing someone.

Back at the office, Trent was anxiously waiting. "What did you find?" he asked Bob when the younger agent stepped into his office.

"We didn't find anything. That box we were told to look for only had pictures and papers. We checked everything else in the room, but there was nothing. I'm sorry, Trent, it looks like it was a bust."

"Okay. I don't guess we're any worse off than we were."

As soon as Bob Kirby left his office, Agent Maddox looked up the number for Bill Littleton. In a few seconds, the phone began to ring in Destin.

"Law offices of William Littleton."

"Agent Trent Maddox calling for Bill Littleton."

"Hold please."

After maybe two minutes of music on hold, Bill Littleton picked up the phone. "Agent Maddox, what can I do for you?"

"Mr. Littleton, the diskettes you told us about were not there. I need to talk to Mrs. Kramer."

"I'm sorry, I would like to help you, but I don't know where she is."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean she told me she will be here on the morning of July 10th to sign some papers. I don't have any way to contact her. She may or may not call in to check on the progress of your activities between now and then."

"Mr. Littleton, I needn't remind you that withholding evidence in a federal investigation is a very serious matter."

"Agent Maddox, I told you everything I know about the evidence. I will relay your message to Mrs. Kramer, if she calls."

During the conversation, Sam Waters walked into his office and made himself comfortable in a side chair. Trent hung up the phone and looked across the desk. "What do we do now?"

"As I see it, we have a few options. We could have her and her boyfriend picked up as material witnesses."

"What else you got? I'm not ready to alienate her just yet."

"We can continue to push her husband."

"Or we can wait until July 10th. I tend to believe that she believed the information she gave us was accurate. There would be no reason for her to contact us and then send us on a wild goose chase. I also believe it's better to just keep leaning on Bart Kramer and get as much information from him as we can. When Mrs. Kramer gets back to Florida, we can talk to her and maybe she can suggest somewhere else to look for the diskettes."

"We could get a warrant to search the apartment."

"If the diskettes were in the apartment, I'm sure he's moved them by now."

"You're probably right."

Bart looked up from his desk when he heard a rap at his office door. "Come in."

Jim Lewis stepped through the door. He didn't look happy. "I just heard that the FBI served a warrant at your apartment a few minutes ago. Is there something you need to tell me?"

"I just found out about it, too. They wanted to look in my storage room in the basement. I talked to the building manager a few minutes ago. She said they had a warrant so she had no choice but to let them in. She said they rifled through some boxes and left with nothing. She said they left it in a mess."

"What were they looking for?"

"I have absolutely no idea." Bart began to get nervous. He hoped it didn't show.

"I don't like it."

There was a short pause while Bart considered his response. He decided to try to deflect the focus of the conversation to something else. "I'm not crazy about them tossing my place either. I thought you told me the feds were off our backs. What happened to your sources?"

Jim Lewis, for one time, appeared unsure. "I don't know, but I plan to find out. You're sure they haven't gotten to you?"

"Absolutely not."

"Have they been in contact with you?"

"No, Jim. I have not been in contact with the FBI."

"Okay, it just concerns me when the FBI serves search warrants at an associate's home, especially when we were told the investigation was canceled."

Jim stepped out the door and Bart dropped his head to his desk and resumed breathing.

Chapter 29

After work that evening, Bart picked up some take out on his way home. He anticipated a long night putting the basement storage room back in order. By the time he got to the apartment, he had already pulled his tie off. Once the door was unlocked, he walked straight to the closet to put it away. When he reached to hang it up he saw his FBI tie. He was so glad he moved the backup diskettes to the storage unit. The troubling thing was that as far as he knew, no one had known about the existence of the diskettes, much less their location. After changing clothes, he went down to the basement to check out the mess. Luckily, he didn't see Jayne. He only stayed a few minutes before he decided to go back upstairs and wait to clean things up until another day. As the evening progressed, his thoughts kept circling back to the diskettes. He had never told anyone about making the backups. Each time he made a new backup, he dropped the new one off in the basement and took the oldest set of diskettes back to the office to be used for the next backup, except that one time. That time, he brought home the backup, but wasn't going back to the office until after the Colorado trip with his buddies. He should have left the old diskettes downstairs, but he was distracted with the excitement of a guys weekend, really a week, and carried them up to the apartment. When he remembered the diskettes, he was running short of time, so instead of taking them back downstairs, he hid them in Callie's suitcase. When he returned from Denver, the diskettes were still in the suitcase so he thought nothing of it. Now, he wasn't so sure. What if she found the diskettes while he was gone and then found the rest of them in the basement? She clearly had enough time. He was gone almost a week. He dismissed that idea. She would have said something about them, or would she? They hadn't been getting along all that well at the time.

This was all preposterous. Even if Callie had known about the diskettes, she was dead, or was she?For the first time in months, he allowed himself to think Callie might be alive. There was never even a part of a body found that was identified as hers. The note she left clearly said she was leaving. With all the cash she took, she could live for a long time without having to get a job and give her social security number. A thought suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks. Everyone, including him thought she was dead, but what if she wasn't? What if the FBI had found her? All kinds of thoughts began to race through his mind. If she knew about the diskettes, she could have told the FBI about them.

He decided it was time to change his tactics. He needed to find out if Callie was actually alive. For months he had been struggling to accept her being gone. What if she was alive? His hopes suddenly soared. If he could just talk to her, he knew he could straighten things out. They could run away together. With the money she had taken and the other money he had hidden away, they could live comfortably for a long time, out of the reach of Fincher Fowler & Pratt, and their criminal friends.

The next morning Bart put on his FBI tie and left for work at the usual time. For once, he hoped someone was watching.

Sam walked to Trent's office. "Guess who wants to talk?"

Trent looked up and smiled. "Bart Kramer?"

"How did you guess?"

"Oh, it was just a hunch."

"How do you want to play it?"

"Let's wait until tomorrow and see if he wears our tie again."

"That works for me. What exactly has he given us?"

"We've got information on four different operations. Cincinnati, Atlanta, New Orleans and Denver. They are all set up about the same way."

"Are there any more of these projects running?"

"I don't know. He has only given us information on those four."

"What do we know about them?"

"We know that they first create a management company. Then they set up another company that starts buying up cash businesses like barber shops, pawn shops, concession stands, laundromats, and convenience stores. They retain the local management but the management company takes over the financial services. The management company provides payroll services and handles the daily bank deposits. Extra cash is added to each of the cash deposits. A fee equal to the extra cash is then charged to each of the businesses. The amount of the extra daily deposit is based on the previous day's closing price of a predetermined NYSE stock times a weighting factor. So far, Bart has claimed to not know the stocks or the weighting factors."

"Do you believe him?"

"I haven't decided yet. If that warrant had produced any results, I think we would have known for sure by now."

"Do you want me to set up a meeting with him?"

"Yeah, let's send him to Coney Island this time. Tell him to meet me there at 6:30 tomorrow night. Put it in his box tomorrow. We'll let him sweat a little."

Wednesday, Bart wore the tie again. All the way to work, he looked over his shoulder frequently, but didn't spot a tail. If he wanted to be seen the day before, he was desperate today. All day long, he hoped Jim Lewis would not come calling. He had made up his mind to change his tactics with the FBI and didn't know if he could talk to Jim without acting so suspicious that Jim would know something was up. Finally, when it was quiting time he quickly gathered his briefcase and computer and headed home. When he checked the mail, it was a relief to see that same style envelope that always contained a note from the FBI. As he read the note, he looked at his watch. If he hurried, he would just barely have time to get there before 6:30. He would have to eat there.

As Bart stood in line to get a corn dog, he felt at tap on his shoulder. Trent asked, "Do you get out here very often?"

He immediately recognized the voice, but his heart rate spiked and he almost jumped out of his skin anyway. He was somehow able to keep his agitation at being in this type situation in check. After all, he was a powerful attorney. It was very unnerving to feel like a puppet on the end of a string. He commanded control of his emotions and actually forced a fake smile. "I haven't been to Coney Island in at least twenty years."

Agent Maddox leaned in close and said, "After you get your food, go to the bumper cars. Beside the ride is a trailer. The door on the trailer is marked office. Go inside and I'll join you in a few minutes."

Bart got a corn dog and a drink and walked away from the concession stand. Maddox opted for a foot long hot dog with lots of relish and mustard. He walked away in a different direction. When he got close to the trailer, one of his agents gave him the all clear signal. Bart had not been followed.

Trent stepped inside the office and locked the door behind him. "How's your corn dog?"

Bart was scared but angry at the same time. "It's okay, but we're not here to talk about corn dogs."

Agent Maddox had a feeling the dynamic with Bart was about to change, but he didn't want to push him. He chose to let his informant set the course of their conversation. He waited another second and asked, "What are we here to talk about?"

That was all the opening Bart needed to launch into a fear tainted tirade of frustration. "What is the idea of getting a search warrant for my storage room? I've been straight with you. All you are going to do with a search warrant is make Jim Lewis suspicious of me again. It took me months to convince him again I was a team player."

Maddox waited a few seconds to be sure Bart was finished "Bart, we have to have more specific information. If we can't get it directly from you we have no choice but to get it elsewhere."

Bart got loud. "Do you want to get me killed? Remember, you told me about the guys before me? These guys don't play nice."

Maddox quietly and calmly continued. "We had a tip that there was information that we might find useful in your storage room. We had to act on it."

Bart then dropped his bombshell. "Where is she?"

They had known that eventually Bart would come to the same conclusion they had, months ago, but he pretended confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"My wife, Callie. You must have found her. She is the only person on the face of the earth that could have possibly known about the information in the basement."

Maddox's role instantly changed to interrogator. "So you admit there was something there?"

Bart paused for a second as if he was about to pass a point of no return. "Yes, but it hasn't been there for a long time. Where is she?"

Maddox clearly now knew they had him. They felt sure they had him before, but at this point the hook was set. Up to this point Bart had something they wanted. Now they had something he wanted. Maddox looked at him straight in the eye and said, "I don't know."

Bart was incredulous. "You expect me to believe that."

Maddox now clearly had the upper hand. "I don't care if you believe it or not. Your wife is a very smart lady. She had an attorney contact us. He says he doesn't have a contact number for her. She left you Bart. She took a lot of your money with her. She doesn't want to have anything to do with you."

Bart's manner changed again. He almost seemed to plead. "You let me worry about that. If I can talk to her, I can straighten things out between us."

Maddox stayed firm in his responses. "I don't know about that. My sources tell me she is about to file for a divorce."

"Just tell me where she is, I'll take it from there."

Maddox's calmness was in stark contrast to Bart's highly emotional state. "No dice, buddy."

In all the times Bart had imagined the moment when he told the FBI that he had figured out Callie was alive, it had never gone this way. He realized he no longer held the upper hand. He paused again. Maddox knew he didn't have to say anything more. In a few seconds Bart took a deep breath. "What do you want?"

Maddox had been at this spot before with other informants and played it casual as if he didn't know what Bart meant. "What do you mean?"

Very calmly, Bart asked, "I mean what do I have to do to be able to find my wife to fix things?"

Maddox softened his demeanor. "I don't know that you can talk your way out of this problem."

"I just need to talk to her."

"That is not my call. She will be the one that will have to decide if she wants to talk to you."

It seemed the reality of the situation suddenly descended on Bart's shoulders and he surrendered. In a defeated voice, he said, "Okay, if I give you everything you need, can you put me and my wife into witness protection?"

Maddox had won, but he couldn't be seen by Bart as celebrating. He continued, very carefully. "First of all, Witness Protection is not something that I can offer you. It will depend on the prosecutor's evaluation of the evidence you provide. Second, you don't even know that your wife would want to go into the program with you."

Bart's perception of his command of the situation changed again. He was the confident attorney again. "Don't worry about the evidence. I can get it for you. Where is Callie?"

"I was serious. I don't know where she is."

"Okay, can you at least get word to her that I would like to talk to her?"

"I think that is doable. Now tell me what you can give me."

Bart took a few moments to gather his thoughts and then proceeded to surprise Agent Maddox. "I can provide the base stocks, the multiplier, the dates and deposits for all the active projects, as they call them, for the past two years." He took a deep breath and hesitated for a few seconds, then continued. "I can give you the names of the clients that own each of the projects and I can give you partners and associates involved in each of the projects. I can provide the routing numbers and account numbers for each of the businesses as well as the management companies and the Fincher Fowler & Pratt accounts that receive the proceeds of these activities. I can give you all that, but they will know it had to come from me. I am going to need protection and a new identity."

When Bart finished, Trent couldn't wait to report to his boss. It appeared they were finally going to get the break they needed in the case. Within a week, Bart and Trent met again. This time at Ellis Island. Trent laid out the details for another session over the coming weekend at Bear Mountain. This time the session would be with Agent Maddox and the Federal Prosecutor. The session was scheduled for Saturday, June 15.

On the 15th Bart redefined the phrase "Singing like a canary." He clearly was motivated by something new. The idea that his wife was alive totally changed his outlook, attitude and level of cooperation. He answered questions for hours and at the end of the day, the prosecutor was satisfied. It was all worked out. When the indictments were handed down, Bart would be arrested along with all the rest of the principals in the case. He would make bale with the rest of the group. If they felt it was becoming unsafe for Bart, he would go into protective custody. He would go into witness protection as soon as the trial was over if it was determined that he would be in danger. He insisted his wife would be included also. They made no commitments with regard to his wife.

On June 17th, Bart went back to work as usual, but it was far from usual for him. For one thing, he knew he was about to bring down Fincher Fowler & Pratt. He started to feel sorry for all the innocent people at the firm that were going to lose their jobs. Then he realized how fortunate it was for him to have the opportunity to get out of the mess he had allowed himself to get into, without any jail time. On top of that, he was going to get a chance to make things right with Callie.

When he got home from work on Tuesday, something didn't seem right, so before doing anything else, he checked the entry log. When it showed an entry at 1:47 pm, he knew his next step was to check the security video. He pulled the bottom drawer from the kitchen cabinet and unplugged the USB drive from the recorder. He carried the drive to the office and plugged it into their desktop computer and turned it on. In a few minutes, he was reviewing video. Hours and hours of nothing passed on the screen as the time stamp changed, but the scene from the door camera remained the same. From time to time Bart saw himself come and go. When he got to noon on Tuesday, he slowed his search. As the time stamp rolled to 1:47, the door opened. Two men stepped inside and began to look around. It was disturbing to watch as two strangers so casually placed listening devices in the living room. When the two went off camera, Bart noted the time and fast forwarded until they came back into view. They looked around the room like they were making sure they got everything and then left. Bart switched to camera two that covered the kitchen, dining room and down the hallway. He watched as they placed bugs on the light fixtures in the kitchen and dining room. He watched as they entered each of the three bedrooms and both bathrooms. The small fortune he had paid to install multiple cameras in each room paid off as he was able to watch the intruders place all their bugs this time. When he finished viewing the video, he copied the video files to a diskette. He didn't think it was the work of the Feds, but he wasn't totally certain.

He took a few minutes to look at each of the bugs. For the rest of the evening, he sat in his living room and tried to decide what it all meant. The next morning, he stopped at a pay phone on his way to work and called Agent Maddox's office. When the call went straight to voice mail he quickly left a message and hung up.

When Trent Maddox got to his office on Wednesday, he checked his messages as usual. The third message altered his plans for the morning. "This is Bart. I need some new ties. Details later."

He immediately called Sam Waters, "Sam, we might have a problem with Bart Kramer."

"What's up?"

"He left a message this morning. He says he needs more ties."

"I wonder if he is getting cold feet again?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to send Mark out to get three more ties."

At the office, Bart learned to his great relief, that Jim Lewis was out of town for the rest of the week. If he had known Jim was in Denver talking to Gordon Tildon, he wouldn't have been so relieved. A few minutes before five, he returned to his office from a meeting and found a padded envelope on his desk. It was labeled: The Tie Club. He walked back to his secretary's desk. "Where did this come from?"

"A cute guy in shorts with great hair dropped it off about an hour ago."

"What company was he with?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't notice. Maybe the one with the purple trucks. I'm sure it was one of those overnight shipping companies. It should be on the shipping label."

He turned and walked back to his office and closed the door. That was the problem, there was no shipping label, just his name and address on a label. He ripped open the envelope and found three ties. One basically black, one green and one blue. He would have to check when he got home, but they all had the same tag on the back side and he thought he remembered his other tie having the same label. For a second, he imagined a drawer full of ties somewhere at the FBI office. On the way home, he tossed the empty envelope away. He was already wearing the blue tie.

As he was driving home, Trent Maddox got a call. "Trent, this is Bob Kirby. You sent us pictures of Bart Kramer's new ties. He is wearing one of them this afternoon."

"Thanks Bob. Good work." He ended the call and turned his car around. He didn't know what the problem was, but he decided he better make contact. He drove back to the office and thought about how he was going to handle this situation. His first step was to change clothes. He changed into a pair of jeans, a tee shirt and athletic shoes he kept at the office. He sat down at his desk and began to write instructions on some plain white card stock, the size of business cards, that he kept in his desk drawer. He drove to within three blocks of Bart's apartment and found a parking place on the street.

He would have preferred not to make contact this way, but he sensed that Bart was getting very edgy about something. He casually walked to the apartment building and went straight up to the fourth floor. He knocked on the door.

Bart was sitting on the couch when he heard the knock. He walked to the door and looked through the peep hole. He recognized Agent Maddox. He had been nervous. He was almost shaking to see the agent standing at his door. He slowly pulled it open.

Agent Maddox mouthed a question, "Are you alone?"

Bart nodded his head yes. Maddox handed him three of the numbered cards. "Have you forgotten? You said you would go with me tonight to look for a computer."

"Oh, yeah, I guess I did." He looked at the cards. The #1 card said, "My name is Hank, tonight." The #2 card said, "If you want to go somewhere to talk, hold up two fingers."

Bart instantly flashed a peace sign. The #3 card said, "Breathe, be calm." Bart took a breath. "Hank, I'm sorry, I completely forgot. Come in and have a seat, make yourself at home while I change clothes."

Trent walked inside and Bart closed the door behind them. Bart put one finger to his mouth to let him know that it was not safe to talk. Trent nodded. "You've got a nice place here."

"Thanks. Would you like something to drink?"

"No, I'm good. Are you sure you still want to do this?" He was relieved Trent understood his signal. In two minutes, he returned to the living room.

"I told you I would. I'm going to do it. Let's go."

The two men walked out the door of the apartment. In the elevator, Trent began to talk about computers and printers and scanners. Bart didn't say much. When they got to the door, Trent said, "I had to park about three blocks away."

About a block from the apartment, Trent's cell phone began to chirp. "Maddox here." After a few seconds, he said, "Thanks, bye." He put the phone back in his pocket. "Come on Bart, there isn't anyone following us." He turned at the next corner and led Bart to his car. "Let's take a little ride."

"I don't know if I like the sound of that."

"Come on Bart, get in the car. Remember, I am one of your only friends and the only one that can help you right now."

When the doors of the car closed, Trent started the engine and turned to his passenger. "What is going on?"

"Someone has bugged my apartment again."

"It wasn't us," Trent said, as he pulled out of the parking place.

"It was somebody, and I don't like it."

"How do you know it is bugged?"

"I had a security camera installed after the last time. I think it was probably the same guys."

"Why do you say that?"

"The bugs look the same." He held up a diskette. "The two guys that did it are on here." He had made a short video clip of the two men looking in the direction of one of the cameras. It was a short clip. He didn't want Agent Maddox to know how extensive the camera coverage of the apartment was.

"Your search warrant has Jim Lewis nervous with me again. He was convinced that you guys had abandoned your investigation until that happened. He came to see me the same day that your guys tossed my storage room. He wanted to know if I had talked to you. I assured him that I hadn't. I don't mind telling you, I get more nervous every day. How much longer is it going to take before I can get away from here?"

"Try to be patient. This all takes time. The prosecutor is getting everything ready to take to the grand jury."

"But how long does that take?"

"Bart, this is a huge and complex case. The prosecutor doesn't want anything to go wrong at this point. We certainly don't want all our work to go down the drain over a technicality. Be patient, it won't be much longer now."

"When you say it won't be much longer, what are we talking about? Are you talking about a week, maybe ten days? What is it?"

"Look, to be honest, it might be into September before she can get before a grand jury and then it could be several days before any arrests are made. You remember our deal. You will get arrested along with everyone else. If it gets too dangerous for you, you will go into protective custody until the trial."

"What does that mean, exactly? You aren't going to keep me locked up are you?"

"No. You will be put up at a safe house. You will have 24 hour security. You will be able to do what ever you want, within limits."

"What kind of limits are we talking about?"

"We wouldn't want you to do anything thing to call attention to yourself or cause notoriety. We want you to keep a low profile. Relax and take it easy. Be fresh for the trial."

"When will I be able to contact Callie?"

"I can't guarantee that she will want to talk to you. I can tell you this, I have communicated to her attorney that you want to talk with her. We expect her to contact him in the next few days."

"Agent Maddox, I am anxious for this to all be over. If there is anything else that you guys need that I can get, please let me know."

"One other thing, if they are planting listening devices in your apartment, they might give you something to carry around too. I would be suspicious of anything that comes from them that could conceal a bug, like a brief case, a pen, a notebook or anything like that. If I were you, I would assume that my office is bugged as well."

"How much danger do you think I'm in?"

"I don't really know. I just know that your predecessors have not fared well."

"I suppose we should go look at some computers."

"You're right."

They drove to an electronics store and browsed through the selection of computers, monitors, printers and scanners. Then Trent took Bart back home. A block from his apartment, he stopped the car. "You should probably get out here. Open the glove box."

Bart reached up and opened it. He saw two identical ties. They were mostly red. He looked at Agent Maddox. "I don't get it. Why two?"

"Take one to work and keep one at home."

"So are you following me all the time now?"

"We have to if we are going to have your back."

At first, Bart didn't know what to think about this revelation, but then he saw the light. "I didn't think about that, but I suppose you're right."

"We are going to keep an eye on you the best we can, but remember we don't have unlimited resources for this case. We will need your help if you want ours. If you feel you are in danger and need to disappear, put on the red tie. We'll see it and pick you up. When you're at home, keep the living room blinds open. Remember. Don't try to get cute. Don't go sneaking out the back door at your apartment or the office and expect us to be able to protect you."

For the next two weeks, Bart went to work every day as usual. The operations in Denver were now underway and he expected to be briefed on the next project, but each day he waited for the call from Frank Laslow that never came. He had things to do, but every day it became a little more difficult to find enough to stay busy. He began to get nervous. Knowing help was only a red tie away kept him from going completely nuts.

Chapter 30

Micah's project in Montana turned out to be more involved than he anticipated. When Callie went to Vermont with him, he finished that job in two and a half weeks. The same thing happened in Tampa on the next job. He told her those two projects were unusual. When they got to Montana, based on her previous limited experience, she anticipated finishing up early and having two weeks between the end of the project and the date she needed to be back home in Florida. On his first day on the project, she pulled out the road atlas and began to plan their return trip. She decided three or four days in Yellowstone would be nice and then a few days in San Antonio to see the river walk and finally a leisurely drive down I-10 back home. She shared her ideas over dinner.

He began to laugh. "I think your plan is great, but I'm afraid you are basing your travel plans on your experience with me on two atypical jobs. I hate to burst your bubble, but my experience is that there are more of the projects that take additional time than there are ones that are finished ahead of schedule."

"It was just a thought."

"It's a good one, but don't be disappointed if we don't have two weeks from the end of the job until you want to be back to Destin."

On the first day of July, Bill Littleton picked up the phone and dialed the intercom number for his secretary. "Willow, can you come in here?"

"Sure, Mr. Littleton, I'll be right in. Do I need a steno book?"

"No, just bring yourself."

Willow walked into his office. He was sitting at the conference table and motioned to one of the other chairs. "Have a seat."

She anxiously sat down. It was unusual for him to call her into his office when he was at the conference table. Usually he was at his desk. She remembered he had been sitting at the conference table when he called her to the office and asked her to send in the other secretary the day he let her go. "What's going on? Is something wrong?"

He sensed her anxiety and began to laugh. "Oh, no, nothing is wrong. I just need to talk to you. Do you remember the Chambers divorce a few months ago?"

"Yes?"

"If you will remember, there were several times we thought someone was watching the office."

"I remember. It was kind of creepy."

"Well, we could possibly have the same sort of situation around here in the next few days, but this time it might be the FBI doing the watching."

"Is everything okay?"

"Oh, yes. It's just that I have a client that the FBI may get anxious to talk to, before she is ready to talk to them."

"Who are we talking about?"

"Do you remember Callie Kramer?"

"Oh, sure. She seems like a real nice lady. What do you want me to do?"

"I don't want you to change the way you do anything. I just wanted you to be aware of the situation. I want us to conduct business as usual. Continue to do everything that you've been doing, like you've always done it, but be on the lookout for anything unusual. For example, I want you to go to the Post Office every day at the same time like normal. If you notice anything out of the ordinary I would like for you to tell me."

"I can do that."

"I wouldn't be surprised any day, to see someone sitting in a car within sight of the office."

"I'll be on the lookout."

"Good. I expect Mrs. Kramer to be here on the morning of July 10th. If she calls before then, I would like for you to give her my home number and tell her to call me there, after hours."

"Even if you are in the office?"

"Yes."

"Okay." She looked at her watch. "Speaking of the Post Office, I should be going."

"Thank you, Willow."

She stood and returned to her desk. In a few minutes, she paused at the front door before opening it. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

When Bart got home from work on the afternoon of July 1, he found another message in his mailbox.

B,

Meet me tomorrow night at 7:30 at that neighborhood Pizza Parlor where you and you wife ate pizza last August. It is close enough to your place to walk. When you get there, go to the table in the corner in the back. I'll have it reserved. If you haven't been followed, I'll be there by 7:45. Remember, my name is Hank."

The third Monday of the project was July 1st. Micah met with the Plant Manager and two of his assistants to discuss progress. The manager pointed out that it was a holiday week and they would be short handed. If it had been a regular week, Micah would have probably wrapped up on Wednesday morning, but with the holiday and the short crew, he didn't anticipate wrapping it up until Friday.

On Friday morning, while he was having his normal exit conference. Callie decided to call her attorney. She went to her drawer and pulled out the envelope containing everything Bill Littleton had given her. She dialed the number and waited.

"Law offices of William Littleton."

"Willow, this is Callie Kramer. I would like to speak to Mr. Littleton."

"I'm sorry, Callie. He isn't in the office today. Do you have his home number?"

She turned the card over in her hand. "Yes, I do."

"He said he would be out all day today, but he would be available in the evening."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

She ended the call and began to make preparations to travel. Instead of two weeks to get home, they needed to be home in five days. It was obvious that Yellowstone and San Antonio would have to wait. Micah returned to the RV around ten o'clock and they headed south a few minutes after noon.

Callie waited until after five local time, to call Mr. Littleton.

"Mr. Littleton?"

"It's Bill, Callie." He recognized her voice. "I've been expecting your call."

"I'm on my way home now. How are things going?"

"Well, I'm glad you called. Our friends didn't find the stuff we told them about."

"Oh, really?"

"It seems that your other friend must have moved it. They have been rather adamant that they need to speak with you."

"I can understand that."

"I've been thinking about our situation and I've got an idea. Just so that their activities don't delay our plans, I suggest we meet for breakfast, complete our business and then you can come to my office where I anticipate they will meet with you to discuss their concerns."

"That sounds good to me. Where would you like to eat."

"You pick the place and call me at six on that morning and I'll meet you there."

"That works for me. I'll see you as planned."

At noon on the eighth, it was obvious they could be home by mid afternoon. "Callie, for ten months now, you have pretty much done things on your schedule."

"Okay? What are you getting at?"

"I was just thinking. The FBI has been to my place at least two times, looking for you."

"Okay. What's your point?"

"They are expecting you back in town the day after tomorrow. They will probably expect you to be at my house tomorrow night."

"You're probably right. Do you have something in mind?"

"Actually I do. Let's stop at the next campground we see. Tomorrow we'll drive on home. I'll call Bob and see about parking the RV at his house for the night instead of the shop. Then we can drive to Destin and get a hotel for the night."

"The next morning, I'll call Mr. Littleton and tell him where to meet us."

"Exactly. Does that sound good to you?"

"It does. Now we just have to find a place to stop tonight."

Bill Littleton was waiting at the restaurant when Callie and Micah walked through the door. He waved them over to the booth where he was already drinking a cup of coffee.

As they slid into their seats, he said, "Good morning. Callie, this is going to be an exciting day for you."

She looked across at him and realized he was right. After ten months of looking over her shoulder she was about to take a step to take her life back. "I haven't thought about it, but you're right."

He smiled. A waitress appeared with a coffee pot and filled the two cups they had turned right side up. He looked up at the waitress and then back to Callie and Micah. "Let's order."

In three minutes the waitress had taken their breakfast order and disappeared. "While we wait for our food, would you like to sign some papers?"

"That sounds like a great idea."

Bill opened his briefcase and slid a stack of papers across the table. "There are sticky notes pointing to each place you need to sign." He held out a pen.

She signed in all the places indicated and slid the stack of papers back across the table. He verified that she had signed every indicated place. He pulled a second set of papers from his briefcase. "This is your copy of everything you signed. I'll be right back." He put the papers she had just signed into an envelope and stood. He turned and walked to the bar where Willow was sitting and handed it to her. She smiled and waved to Callie and Micah from across the restaurant and walked out the front door.

After they finished breakfast, they left the restaurant and followed Bill to his office. At the law office, Callie noticed a nondescript sedan parked across the parking lot. They parked beside Bill and followed him into the office. Forty-five seconds later, two men stepped into the office. The secretary showed them to a conference room.

Callie, Micah and Bill were seated at a conference table obviously waiting for the pair. The secretary started to introduce the two agents when Callie said, "I'm impressed. You guys came all this way, just to see me. Micah, Bill, these two gentlemen are Special Agents Sam Waters and Trent Maddox."

Bill Littleton took over. "Gentleman, if you will take a seat, my client is ready to entertain your questions."

Callie actually smiled. "Did you have a nice flight?"

This woman was definitely self assured and confident in her position. "Yes, it was alright. Mrs. Kramer, we didn't find anything when we served the warrant on your basement storage room, but shortly afterward, your husband came to the conclusion that you must still be alive. He became very cooperative and has supplied most all the information we had hoped might be on the diskettes."

"That is interesting," she said, and looked back and forth between Micah and her attorney.

Agent Maddox waited, in case she had any additional response, but when she didn't, he continued. "He has made a rather strange request."

"He did?"

"Yes. He has requested to enter the witness protection program at the conclusion of the trial."

"That doesn't sound so strange."

"He wants you to join him."

"He probably won't think that way when he gets served with my divorce petition."

"He believes that you will be in danger too, at the end of the trial."

"No way. Does he even know where I am? You didn't tell him where I am, did you?"

"No, but if you follow through with your plans to file for divorce, he will soon know you are in Florida."

She looked to Bill. "Agent Maddox, the papers are being filed this morning."

"Well, he asked that I give you this letter, if I ever saw you." Agent Maddox pulled an envelope from a folder and pushed it across the table to Callie. She watched as it slid toward her, but didn't touch it.

She looked at Agent Maddox. "What is in the letter?"

"I don't know. It's sealed."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously, no one at the Bureau has looked inside that envelope."

"Hmmm, what about the diskettes?"

"What about them?"

"Would you be interested in copies?"

Sam and Trent looked at each other. Trent began to smile. "You have copies?"

She grinned. "When I found them, I figured that if they were valuable to Bart, they might be valuable to me too." She opened her handbag and pulled out ten diskettes. "I haven't looked at them, but they are probably encrypted."

"We have people that can get around that."

"Wouldn't it be easier to just use the password?"

"Do you know it?"

She wrote down a string of twelve characters and numbers on a notepad and pushed it across the table. "That was the password on the files I looked at in June last year. I doubt he has changed passwords."

"This changes a few things. The data on these diskettes may present a more complete picture of the situation than just the interviews with your husband."

"Agent Maddox, I would prefer that you not refer to Bart Kramer as my husband in my presence. I view my marriage to him as a correctable mistake and I began proceedings this morning to correct that mistake."

"Mrs. correction, Ms. Kramer, we will take a look at the data on these diskettes and unless they show something different from the information Mr. Kramer has given us, we won't need you to testify. It may help us confirm some of the information we have been given. It will be up to you as to whether you talk to him or consider witness protection. If you choose to participate, you could go to a different location than your, I mean Mr. Kramer. Sorry."

"That's alright."

"Ms. Kramer, do you have any questions?"

"What happens now?"

"In a few weeks, a Grand Jury will be impaneled. The prosecutor will present the evidence and hopefully they will issue indictments. There will be arrests made. The defense will begin to prepare their case. The prosecution will have to share their evidence with the defense. There will be maneuvering by both sides before it ends up in a trial. It will most likely be several months before the trial will start. At some point, Bart's colleagues will come to the conclusion that he has been working with us. At that point, he will go into protective custody until after the trial."

"Am I in danger?"

"I don't think so. You have done a very good job of disappearing. The Florida Driver's License gave us our only link to you. If you choose to talk to Bart, sooner would be better than later. Once he goes into protective custody it will be better if you don't communicate."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Maddox and Waters stood. "Ms. Kramer, I hope you will be more accessible if we need to speak with you further. After we look at the information on the diskettes, we may have questions."

"Mr. Littleton will know how to reach me. I ask that you not give Bart any information about me. He is an attorney. If he wants to make contact, he can contact my attorney." She smiled. "In the next few days, he will have Mr. Littleton's contact information."

Maddox and Waters nodded. "Thank you for your assistance." The FBI agents walked out of the conference room two minutes later.

"I am so glad that is over."

"I'm sure you are. Unfortunately this is just the beginning. In a few days, I will probably get a phone call from Mr. Kramer or his attorney. I get the feeling he is going to insist on talking to you."

"Do I have to?"

"I don't suppose you have to, but sometimes after a serious conversation between parties, legal proceedings go more smoothly. I notice you haven't even opened his letter."

"I don't even want to touch it."

"As your attorney, I advise you to read it. At a time like this, knowledge is power and anything the other side gives you might provide you an advantage or at least point out a weakness. I suggest to you that I make a copy for you and keep the original with the files here."

"Do you mind opening it?"

"Not at all."

"I don't want to touch anything Bart has touched."

Bill reached for the envelope and pulled a pocket knife from his pocket. He used the pocket knife as a letter opener and slit open the top of the envelope. He pulled out a single sheet of paper, unfolded it and placed it on the table in front of Callie. "You don't have to touch it, but I prefer that you read it before I take it to make a copy."

"Sure."

She quickly read the note and then told Mr. Littleton. "Okay, you can make the copy now."

"I'll be right back." He left Micah and Callie in the conference room. She turned to Micah. "Do you suppose I could have a hug?"

"Of course." Micah stood. Callie stood. They reached for each other and embraced. He held her tightly. "Micah," she said and turned to face him.

"Yes," he answered and turned to face her. Their eyes met and locked for a second. She looked to his lips and then back to his eyes. She nodded slightly and he had the answer to a question he had wanted to ask for months. Their lips met tentatively at first and then they backed away. They gazed into each one another's eyes and smiled. He saw no sign of alarm or discomfort. She only saw compassion and adoration in his eyes.

"Wow, Callie. I've wanted to do that for years. I've even dreamed about it."

She smiled a smile more radiant than he had ever seen. "I wish you had done that in high school."

"Me too."

They backed away from each other and started walking toward the door when Mr. Littleton returned. "I took the liberty of reading the note. Does this have any bearing on your feelings about the divorce?" He handed her an envelope with the copy inside.

"None at all. He is too late. I have moved on."

"In a few days, after he is served, we should receive his response. I think it is safe to assume he will make another request to see you and talk to you."

"I don't know if I want to talk to him. I know I don't want to see him."

"That is certainly your decision. For now, there is really nothing more we can do until he responds. I will contact you when I hear from him or his attorney."

"Okay." She handed him a piece of paper. "My cell phone is the top number and the condo is the other one."

"Will you be staying in town for a while?"

She looked to Micah for a second before she turned to the lawyer. "I don't know."

"I don't suppose it matters, but if you are going to be out of town for a week or more, I would appreciate you calling and leaving word with my secretary."

"I can do that. Thank you Mr. Littleton."

"It's Bill, and you're welcome. I'm sure you have things to do. I'll leave you two alone. Stay as long as you want."

A few short minutes later, Micah and Callie walked out of the lawyer's office and squinted in the bright morning sunshine. She turned to him and smiled, "What do we do now?"

"Sometime today I need to move the RV from Bill's house to C&M. Other than that, we can do whatever you want to do. You must be feeling pretty good."

"What do you mean?"

"After today, it is just a matter of time before you are a free woman. Your divorce papers are filed and the FBI has the disks."

"Oh that, yeah. Now I can get on with my life."

"What do you want to do now?"

"For so long, the idea of the divorce has been like a black cloud, looming out there. I haven't given much thought to what I want to do, beyond that. I suppose I need to start trying to figure out what is next for me. All my life, I have felt like something is missing from my life. I thought when I met and fell in love with Bart I would be complete, but it didn't happen. I think maybe it was because of all those years I spent alone."

"Well, you are welcome to stay on here at my place as long as you want, but I'm going to have to go back on the road in a few days. In the next two months I have three projects."

"Which way are you going this time?"

"First, I'm off to Oklahoma, then on to Idaho and then back to Montana. I hope to be back home before the snow flies out there. I figure those three projects will take at least ten weeks, counting travel time. It might be as late as mid October before I get back home."

"When do you have to leave?"

"I have to be in Pryor, Oklahoma, just outside Tulsa on the 22nd."

"Do you mind if I go with you?"

"Of course not. I just figured you were probably tired of life on the road and being trapped in the RV with me."

"You've got to be kidding. It has been great being with you. I've been worried that you would be tired of me tagging along."

Micah reached for her hand and led her to the truck. "We need to go somewhere and talk." They had checked out of the hotel before they left to meet Mr. Littleton, so he drove to Bill's house. They loaded Micah's pickup truck on the trailer and pulled it to C&M Plumbing. Micah was uncharacteristically quiet on the drive to Bill's house and later on the drive to C&M Plumbing. The RV was parked in it's spot, they were back in the pickup and he was about to start the truck's engine. Callie reached across the cab of the truck and put her hand on his arm. "You said we need to talk and then you stopped talking. Is there a problem?"

He continued to look out the front windshield of the truck. He took a deep breath and shook his head. "No, there isn't a problem."

She let out a sigh of relief. "Good."

He turned to her and put his arm on the back of her seat. "On second thought, there is sort of a problem."

"I was afraid of that." She frowned and mentally braced herself for the bad news.

He took a deep breath and let it out. "Callie, a little over a year ago, I was traveling around the country, from project to project, without a care in the world. I was by myself, but that was okay. When I first heard about our class reunion, I wasn't really interested because high school wasn't a particularly good time for me. Then I started thinking about you and when I thought you might be there, I got a lot more interested."

She smiled as she remembered what she had been told at the reunion. "Darla told me you were calling her every week for a while."

For a second, he looked embarrassed. It was so cute. "Yeah, I'll have to apologize to her some day."

"I don't remember if I told you, but I didn't recognize you when you first walked in at the reunion."

"I'm not surprised. I was a pathetic mess back in the day."

She frowned. "You were not."

"Yes, I was." His thoughts momentarily went back to high school. There were a few seconds of almost uncomfortable silence and then he continued. "I don't know what came over me at the reunion. I can't believe I encouraged you to leave your husband. I'm generally the last one to be bold about anything."

"I'm glad for your boldness. Before the reunion, I wanted to leave him, but I had no idea how I was going to do it. You helped me and I will never forget it."

"I'm glad I could do it."

There were several more moments of silence as they both stared out the front windshield as if they were attempting to look into the future. "I always thought my new life would start when I finally had the nerve to leave Bart, but now when I think about it, it actually started the weekend of the reunion. For so long I had felt all alone, but since that weekend, I have known that you were always out there somewhere, ready and willing to help me. Thank you so much. You have been so much more than a friend."

"My life changed at the reunion too. Ever since that weekend, I've had someone else to think about other than myself. I have to tell you, since the reunion, my life has been better than ever before. Callie, I know you're still married, but I love you."

She reached for his hand. "Micah, that is so sweet."

Disappointment colored his face. "That's not quite the response I had hoped for, but I couldn't not tell you anymore."

"Micah, my feelings are in such turmoil right now, I don't know how I feel."

"Don't worry about it." He looked away.

"Micah, please don't be mad. Don't get me wrong, I have feelings for you, but until I resolve, or in this case, dissolve my issues with Bart, I feel like I need to steer clear of any romantic entanglements."

He turned back to her, his face covered with a huge smile. "So I could be an entanglement?"

She returned his smile. "Oh, yes. You definitely have that potential."

"Alright. That's good enough for me, for now." With that, he turned his attention back to the business at hand. He started the engine and drove to the condo.

It was eleven days later when the process server walked up to Bart in the courtyard outside the offices of Fincher Fowler & Pratt at 4:30 on a Friday afternoon. When he was actually served, he wasn't surprised. All was not lost, yet. Things had changed. He wasn't the same man that he was when she decided to leave him. He would make her see that. September 11th had gotten his attention. That day caused him to reevaluate his life and realize that she was the most important part of his life and if children would make her happy, they would make him happy too. It was time to talk to her.

When he got home, he stopped to talk to Jayne. He walked into the building office and Jayne was at the counter. "Hi, Jayne!"

She looked up from a paper she was reading. "Hi Bart. You look happy on this Friday afternoon."

He pulled an envelope out of his computer case and placed it on the counter.

"What is that?" she asked.

"It's my divorce papers."

She looked from the envelope to Bart. "Okay, I'll bite. What are you talking about?"

He smiled. "Callie has served me with divorce papers."

A look of confusion replaced the smile on her face. "Callie isn't dead?"

His smile got bigger. "No." He laughed. "She never was." He waited a few seconds for a response.

"I'm really confused. I don't think I have ever seen anyone so happy to get divorce papers served on them."

"You don't get it. Callie is alive. I'm going to get another chance to make things right."

"Bart, I hate to be the one to tell you, but being served with divorce papers means she wants a divorce."

"I know, but if I can talk to her, I'm sure I can straighten things out."

"Bart, she wants a divorce."

"I know, but everything has changed. I have changed. I just need to talk to her."

"Bart, don't get your hopes up."

"Why?"

"Think about it. She came to a point in her life that she decided that you guys were finished as a couple. Once she made that decision, she may not be interested in any changes you've made. I would just hate for you to get your hopes up and be disappointed. When Jack and I split up, after about six months, he wanted to get back together, but I wasn't interested. I had moved on with my life."

She looked at Bart with knowing eyes. "Do what you have to do, but when you need to talk to someone, you know where to find me."

She could see that her comments had taken a little of the wind out of his sails, but none the less, he needed to hear it. He turned around and walked out of the office. When he got up stairs, he walked into the living room and sat down on the couch, pulled the papers out of his pocket and began to read them again. When he finished, he picked up the phone to call an old friend that was a divorce attorney. The phone had already begun to ring when he remembered the bugs. He hung up the phone, folded the papers and walked to his room. He changed into comfortable clothes, walked back downstairs and out the front door of the apartment building. He began to walk, and think. "What am I going to do?" he said out loud, and then looked around to see if anyone had heard him. He looked up and saw the entrance to the park. He walked inside, found a bench and read the papers again. He read the contact information for her attorney. He desperately needed to talk to Callie to straighten things out and put an end to this divorce foolishness.

As an attorney, he knew that only a fool has himself for a client, but decided to call her attorney anyway. If he could just get in touch with Callie, he knew that he could talk her out of the divorce. He dialed the contact number listed in the complaint. After about three rings, he glanced at his watch. It was 5:45. After the next ring, the call was answered. "You've reached the law offices of William Littleton. Our office hours are 8 am to 3:30 pm, Monday through Friday. Leave a message and someone will return your call."

He ended the call. "What do I do now?" he thought to himself. He watched for a few minutes as children and adults played in the park. He had been alone since September, but for the first time realized he might be alone forever if he didn't make some changes to his life. He needed a new job. He needed a new start with Callie. At that point, he came to his senses and realized he probably needed someone else to represent him in this divorce business. He pulled his phone from his pocket and again dialed the number of his friend from his days at Singleton, Rogers and Judd.

"Hello Bart!" the voice answered the call, "Did you call me a while ago?"

"Yes, I did."

"Well buddy, what's going on?"

"Syd, I think I may need an attorney."

"Okay, what's going on?"

"I got served with divorce papers today."

"Wait a minute. I thought I heard Callie died on 9-11."

"That's what I thought too. It's kind of a long story. Will you be able to represent me?"

"Sure, Bart. Whatever you need. You know I'm here for you."

"Then I can tell you something else."

"Bart, before you say anything else, I think we should meet. Are you at your office?"

"No, I'm already home."

"I'm still at the office. Do you want to come by and we can get things going. I need to see what she sent you anyway. We will need to prepare your response."

"Sure, but it's getting late. Do you want to do it now, or wait til Monday?"

"Come on down. It's not that late and it won't take very long."

Chapter 31

On Monday morning, Bart's attorney called Callie's attorney.

"Law Offices of William Littleton."

"This is Sydney Winslow, attorney for Barton Kramer calling for William Littleton."

"Just a moment sir, I'll connect you." For a few seconds, hold music played in his ear.

"Bill Littleton here, what can I do for you Mr. Winslow."

"Please, call me Syd."

"Okay, Syd, you can call me Bill. What can I do for you?"

"Bart Kramer is my client. As you know, your client has filed for divorce. As I understand, she has led him to believe she was dead since 9-11." He paused for a moment to see if there would be any response. There was none, so he continued. "Recently, events have led him to believe that she might not, in fact, be dead after all. Based on his suspicions, he requested a meeting to discuss their issues. Do you know the status of my client's request?"

"Yes. She was presented with his letter approximately an hour after she initiated the divorce."

"Do you mind sharing her response to his request."

"She said it didn't change anything as far as she was concerned. She chose not to respond until after he responds to her petition."

"I see."

"When can we expect his response?"

"My client is interested in reconciliation."

"My client has instructed me to say that she is not interested in reconciliation."

"Would she be willing to meet with my client?"

"No."

"What about a conference call?"

"That might be a possibility, if it would speed up the process. I can assure you, my client is not interested in reconciliation."

"When can we expect your client's response for my client's request for a meeting?"

"You are wasting everyone's time requesting a private, face to face meeting. I can assure you, that is not going to happen, but if you want to pursue it, send a written request and we will reply in writing as soon as possible. Don't expect a fast response. My client travels extensively and may not be available for several days at a time."

"If we were to request a meeting by phone, how soon could we expect a response?"

"Send a written request and we will act on it."

"Alright, Bill. I'll be in touch."

"I'll look forward to it, Syd."

Instead of hanging up the phone when he finished talking to Syd Winslow, he dialed Willow's extension. As soon as she picked up, he asked, "Do we know if Callie Kramer is in town?"

"She called a few days ago. She was going to Oklahoma. She said she would probably be out of town for at least two months."

"Do you have a contact number for her?"

"She said the number she gave us would be good."

"See if you can get her on the line."

"Yes, sir."

In a few minutes, Willow stepped back into her boss's office. "She didn't answer. I got her voice mail. I'll call back in a little while."

"Did you leave a message?"

"No."

"Good. Keep trying until you get her."

"Yes, sir."

Bart's phone rang and he picked it up. "Bart Kramer."

"Bart, it's Syd."

Bart instantly recalled Trent Maddox's speculation that his office might be bugged. Before Syd could say anything more, he interrupted him, "Hey Syd, I'm so glad you called. Could you possibly meet me for lunch today instead of tomorrow?"

Syd sensed something was wrong. "Sure. Will Antonio's still be good for you?"

"Yes. Still at one o'clock?"

"I'll change the reservation and see you at one."

At one o'clock, when Bart slid into the chair across from him at Antonio's, Syd asked, "What was that all about?"

"What?"

"You know what I'm talking about. I get the idea there is something you haven't told me."

The waiter appeared, left menus and took their drink order. He disappeared and Syd continued, "Bart, you're my friend, but if I'm going to represent you, you've got to tell me everything."

"Okay, I would prefer that no one at my office know about the divorce for as long as possible."

"Is that why you cut me off when I called this morning?"

"Sort of."

"What do you mean, sort of?"

"My office may be bugged."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because my apartment is bugged."

"How do you know that?"

"I had it swept for bugs."

"What led you to think you needed to do that?"

"Something the firm's security chief said to me." Bart decided it wasn't necessary for Syd to know the apartment was bugged before 9-11.

"You're telling me that Fincher Fowler & Pratt is spying on you."

"Yes."

"How do you know it is Fincher Fowler & Pratt?"

"After I found out it was bugged, I had cameras installed. Later I had some remodeling done and in the process, got rid of all the bugs. Not too long ago, there was an intrusion detection and when I checked the video, I watched as the apartment was bugged again."

"Why would your employer spy on you?"

"After Callie died on 9-11, they were afraid I might talk to the FBI."

"Wait just a minute. Callie obviously isn't dead and why would the FBI want to talk to you?"

"The people at the firm don't know about Callie being alive. I haven't told anyone at the office. The FBI is investigating Fincher Fowler & Pratt."

"How do you know that?"

"They told me."

"Bart, this is getting way more complicated than a divorce."

"I know. You are my attorney and I need to talk to someone."

"I'm all ears."

The waiter returned with their drinks. They hadn't yet looked at the menus, but Syd figured it was pretty safe to assume that lasagna was on the menu, so that is what he ordered. Bart ordered spaghetti.

As soon as the waiter left the table, Syd asked, "Why do you think they bugged your apartment the second time?"

"The FBI served a warrant on my basement storage room. A few days later someone bugged my apartment. I'm sure that after that search warrant, they started being suspicious of me again. After the FBI served the warrant, I began to suspect that Callie was still alive. You see, I was out of town on 9-11. When I got back home, I found her note telling me she was leaving. A couple days after that, I found out that she had taken about $150,000 from two of our bank accounts."

"Wow."

"You can say that again. I didn't find the money around the apartment and her body was never found."

"What does that have to do with the warrant?"

"I was keeping some backup diskettes in the basement and she was the only person that could have possibly known about the diskettes."

"What did the FBI want with backup diskettes?"

"Well." Bart took a deep breath.

"I get the idea, you may need more help than with a divorce."

"I am about to give the FBI the evidence they need to break up a money laundering operation that is managed by Fincher Fowler & Pratt."

"How did you get this information?"

"I set up the four newest operations."

"Oh boy."

"That's for sure. I got sucked into a situation that was too good to be true. For the first few months, I was instructed to help some clients with some business acquisitions. Then I found out what was really going on. I was uncomfortable, so I started making some insurance backups and keeping them at the apartment in the basement storage. One time, I hid one set of diskettes in Callie's suitcase in her closet when I was leaving town because I was running late and didn't think I had time to run to the basement and make it to the airport in time for a flight. As soon as I returned home I moved the diskettes to the basement. While I was gone, she must have found the diskettes and went looking for more. We weren't getting along very well at the time and she never mentioned finding any diskettes. When this thing goes to trial, I am going to testify. After the trial, I have requested to enter witness protection. I've asked for her to go into it with me. I have to talk to her to convince her that it will be too dangerous not to disappear with me after the trial. The last four guys that were in my position with the firm are all dead and some of their wives are dead too. If the partners at Fincher Fowler & Pratt figure out what I'm doing, I'm afraid I might end up mysteriously dead. For that reason, I don't want them to know Callie is alive for as long as possible. As long as they believe she is dead, she is safe. It is ironic that 9-11 has been the perfect safety blanket for her."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Press her attorney for a meeting."

"I talked to him this morning and he says she will not agree to a face to face meeting. I think she might talk to you on the phone."

"I would obviously rather talk to her in person, but I guess a call will have to be good enough. She seems to be holding all the cards at the moment."

"So you will settle for a phone call?"

"I don't see that I have much choice. Set it up as soon as you can. When you have something for me, call my cell and ask for Brad. I'll call you back as soon as I can. I can't talk to you when I'm at the office or at home."

"Bart, I should probably be with you any time you meet with the FBI."

"I'll think about it."

Sydney frowned but let the remark pass. The food arrived and forty-five minutes later, Bart was back at his desk.

When Micah returned to the RV, Callie was cooking dinner. "Something smells good."

"I hope you like it, I found the recipe in a cook book I bought while we were in Vermont."

"I'm sure it will be great. Did you find something interesting to do today?"

"I did. I worked on my tan this morning by the pool and this afternoon I scouted some spots for morning photo shoots down by the river. How was your day?"

"It was a typical first day of a project. I spent way too much time explaining why I couldn't do the job in a couple days. The plant manager is sure that he knows how to handle the situation and doesn't know why the division vice president instructed him to contract with me. Did you hear from your lawyer today?"

"Well?"

"What's up?"

"I forgot and left my phone in the RV this morning. At noon it showed two missed calls. I can't say for sure, but I think it was from Destin. It wasn't the number from his card, but it was the same prefix."

"Did you call him back?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'm just a chicken, I suppose."

"Callie, if it was him, the sooner you respond to the issues that are bound to come up, the sooner you will get your divorce."

"I know. I'll call him tomorrow."

On Tuesday morning, a few minutes after Micah left for work, Callie's cell phone rang. She recognized the number from the day before. "Hello."

"Callie, this is Willow from Bill Littleton's office, can you hold for him?"

"Sure. How are you this morning?"

"I'm great."

There was hold music for a few seconds. "Good morning Callie."

"Good morning Bill. You have good news, I hope."

"I don't know if it is good, but I have news. I got a call from Bart's attorney, a Sydney Winslow. Do you know him?"

She thought for a minute before she remembered. "Yes, I know Syd. He and Bart went to law school together and they both worked at Rogers, Singleton and Judd."

"He wanted to know if you would meet with his client and I told him no. I told him you might be willing to talk via telephone, but that he would need to send a request in writing."

"That's pretty good."

"If you agree to a telephone conversation, I would rather be with you for the call. Will you be able to return to Florida for the call?"

"I don't know."

"If you can't be in my office and you still want to agree to take the call, I want to be on the call with you, even if we have to do it as a three way conference call. If we do it that way we will need another line open between just us. That way we can confer privately during the call if necessary."

There was no response from Callie. Bill continued, "On the other hand, there is nothing that says you have to have any contact with him at all."

"No, that's not it. I hadn't thought about needing to be with you for the call. Alright, when you get his written request, you can tell them that I will talk to him."

"I will proceed accordingly. I understand you are in Oklahoma."

"We are. We will probably be here for about three weeks and then we will head to Idaho."

"I'll be in touch. Bye."

Three days later, a letter arrived for Bill Littleton. It was a formal written request for a telephone conference call with Callie Kramer. He was on the phone to Callie that afternoon.

When her phone rang and she recognized the number, a sense of foreboding surrounded her as she answered the call. "Hello?"

"Callie, it's Bill Littleton." He sensed her timidness. "It's not so bad. I did get the request for the conference call. I suggest that we get it behind us as soon as possible."

"How will it work?"

"I got his written request in the mail, but I also expect a call in the next few days as soon as he gets his return receipt. We need to pick a day and time that is good for you. Once we agree on the time, we will need to get his phone number and the two phone numbers you are going to use. I won't need your numbers until the day before the call. If you would like, I can arrange for you to take the call at an attorney's office close to you."

"That might be good. I'll think about it. I can be available almost any time. When do you suggest we have the call?"

"If you have no objections, I'll set it up for next Wednesday, July 31 at two o'clock our time. That will give us a week. You and I will need to talk next Tuesday and again Wednesday morning to make sure we have everything together before the call. Will Micah be with you for the call?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"I think it would be good for him to be there in case you need some support. I would rather you were in my office for the call, but I understand if you can't come back."

"I just don't see how I can be there."

"It will work either way. I will just need the phone numbers the day before or I'll need a couple days to arrange for space at a local law firm for you to take the call."

"Okay."

"Keep in touch."

"I will."

"Bye."

Micah could sense Callie was in a subdued mood when he got home from work that afternoon.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"What makes you think something is wrong?"

"You're listening to that music," he said as he pointed to the speakers in the ceiling. "You have all the blinds closed. It's like a dungeon in here."

She looked around. "I guess you have a point. Mr. Littleton is going to set up a conference call with Bart, next Wednesday at two o'clock."

"That's pretty quick."

"He recommended getting it out of the way, so we could proceed. Can you sit in on the call with me?"

"Of course, if that's what you want."

"I would really appreciate it. He said he would rather I take the call in his office, but he understands that I can't."

"Why not?"

"It's too far."

"Don't be silly. If he thinks it would be better for us to be there, we can fly down on Wednesday morning, or better yet, we can fly down Tuesday and then return after the call. I'm sure we can get a flight out of Tulsa."

"Are you sure?"

"I am absolutely sure. Next Wednesday we will still be collecting data. They can do without me for a day or so."

She smiled and leaped from her chair and hugged him. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You are too good to me."

He smiled back at her. "Just keep thinking that way. What sounds good to you for dinner?"

Friday morning, Bart's cell phone rang. "Hello."

"Can I speak to Brad?"

"You have the wrong number."

Five minutes later, Bart dialed Syd's number. "Syd Winslow."

"I hope you have good news."

"It could be. Can you be available for a conference call at my office next Wednesday at three?"

"Yes, of course."

"That is what they propose. There is only one condition."

"What is that?"

"Her attorney will be present."

"That's no problem. Tell them we accept their condition."

"Alright. I'll get right on it. I'll talk to you next Wednesday if not before."

The wheels touched down on the commuter plane at the Destin airport at 9:30 pm on Tuesday evening. Earlier in the day, Callie had spoken with Bill Littleton and they agreed to a 9 o'clock call on Wednesday morning. When the taxi dropped them off in front of the condo it was nearly eleven o'clock.

Micah opened the door and waited for Callie to step inside. He followed her and closed the door behind them. "Wow, my mom would say this place has house-a-tosis." He crossed the room to the patio doors and opened them wide. He returned to the front door and threw it open. In five minutes, the stale, closed up smell was gone and he shut the front door.

"I'm so glad we changed the sheets on the beds before we left."

"You're welcome."

He smiled. "I'm exhausted. I'm going to take a shower and go to bed."

Callie picked up her suitcase, walked to her bedroom door and turned around. "That sounds good to me, too. I'll see you in the morning." She smiled, stepped inside and closed the door.

Chapter 32

A few minutes under a hot shower left her feeling slightly invigorated and a little less sleepy. She turned off the water, toweled dry and slipped into her gown. She pulled the covers back and climbed into bed, but twenty minutes later, her eyes were wide open and she was no where near sleep. After a few more minutes, she decided it might help to get a drink of water, so she rolled out of bed, pulled on her robe and made her way to the kitchen. As she reached into the cabinet for a glass, her gaze swept across the living room. It was no real surprise when she saw Micah sitting on the balcony. She stepped through the door a few moments later. "I thought you were going to take a shower and go to bed."

He smiled up at her. "I took a shower, but I couldn't resist sitting out here for a few minutes. Who knows when we will get back again?"

"I can't say I'm surprised to find you out here. It seems to be about your favorite place."

"It is, at that. Look at the moon reflecting off the water tonight. I've sat out here hundreds of nights. There is always something different about it, but it is always beautiful."

"Until I came down here with you, I had never seen a warm beach except on TV and in the movies. I always thought the best part about the ocean would be splashing around in the water. I was wrong. I've found that sitting up here at night when you can hear the waves crashing ashore and see the light reflecting off the water and feel the breezes blowing is just about heaven."

"I know. There's nothing better. On another subject, we don't have anything in the house to eat for breakfast."

"Okay?"

"I was thinking we could go to the Donut Hole for breakfast before we go to your lawyer's office."

"That sounds good to me." She smiled and turned to go inside.

"Callie?"

"Yes?"

"Would you like to sit out here with me for a while?"

"Sure." She noticed, for the first time, the empty chair beside him. She stepped around his chair and sat down.

For several minutes, neither of them spoke. They both listened to the crashing of the surf and enjoyed the cool ocean breeze. Micah looked over and noticed her arm and hand dangling between their chairs. He reached over and touched her hand. She looked at their hands and then looked to his face and smiled. He smiled back. She laced her fingers through his. They sat for several minutes, enjoying the closeness. She asked, "Do you ever sleep with your door open so you can hear the waves?"

He turned to face her. "I do sometimes."

She looked back out at the waves. "What is it like to wake up to the sound of the surf?"

She turned back to look at him and was surprised to find he was still looking at her. "You didn't ever sleep in my room when I was gone?"

She shook her head. "No, not once."

He frowned. "I'm disappointed. I wanted you to experience everything the condo has to offer."

She dropped his hand and slowly got out of the chair. "Oh, well, maybe later. I think I had better go to bed. It's getting late."

He looked back out on the gulf. "Good night. I'll see you in the morning."

Callie disappeared into the condo and Micah was left alone on the balcony with his thoughts. After a while, he too, slipped inside to go to bed. He was about to lay down when he decided to open the door so he could listen to the surf.

An hour later, he was lying in bed, listening to the surf, wondering why he couldn't sleep. He heard a sound and turned to see Callie standing in his doorway in the shadows. "Are you asleep?" she whispered.

Just above a whisper, he replied, "No."

Still in the shadows, she said, "I can't sleep either. I keep thinking about tomorrow."

He sat up in bed. "It will be alright. I'll be there and Mr. Littleton will be there."

Callie stayed in the shadows just outside his door. "I know, but I'm still anxious about the whole thing. Can I ask a big favor?"

Without hesitation, he said, "Sure, anything."

She didn't say anything for nearly a minute. Micah thought she might have gone back to bed. "Would you hold me for a while?"

"Of course." He started to get out of bed.

"No, stay where you are." She walked to the side of the bed, pulled back the covers and climbed in bed with him. Initially, he was shocked, but he recovered quickly. He put his arms around her and pulled her close.

"This feels so nice. Thank you."

"Trust me. It is not an imposition."

As they lay quietly in the shadows in his room, listening to the waves break on shore, he hoped the sound of his heart pounding would not drown out the sounds of the surf. Before long, Micah could tell from the rhythm of Callie's breathing that she was asleep. He held her close and listened to the waves and hoped he never forgot what he was feeling at that moment. He thought about staying awake and enjoying their closeness, but his body had a different idea and he awoke after daylight as Callie began to stir.

He opened his eyes as she slipped out of bed. He smiled and said, "Good morning." She turned and said, "Good morning to you."

His eyes got as big a saucers. "Oh, my gosh."

"What?" she asked in panic.

He began to grin. "Oh, nothing. It is just a good thing I didn't know you were wearing that when you were here beside me."

"She reached for her robe on the back of a chair." She slipped it on and asked, "Is this better?"

He frowned. "Absolutely not. I just want you to know that you look absolutely incredible this morning."

She started to blush. "You're just saying that to be nice."

He shook his head. "I'm saying it because it is the truth."

She turned to leave. As she walked away, she said, "Get up and get dressed, I'm hungry and you promised me breakfast."

Micah rolled out of bed a few minutes later and began his morning routine of shaving and showering. Twenty minutes later he opened his bedroom door, ready to go. It was no great surprise that Callie wasn't ready yet. He stepped out on the balcony and watched below as the beach slowly came to life. A few minutes later, he heard the door behind him opening and turned around. "Wow," was all he could say for a few seconds.

He stood on the balcony with a big grin on his face until he realized he was embarrassing himself. "You look absolutely sensational. I probably should go change clothes. "

She smiled. "Oh Micah, your clothes are fine. I just want to feel confident today so I turned my wardrobe up a notch or two."

"You definitely look confident, and beautiful."

The smile broadened. "Thank you. Now come on. I'm hungry for some special French toast."

At the Donut Hole, they ate a huge breakfast and vowed to skip lunch. They returned to the condo and Callie called Bill Littleton.

"Callie Kramer for Bill Littleton," she said when Willow answered the phone.

In a few seconds, her attorney was on the phone. "Hello Callie. How are you this fine Wednesday morning?"

"I'm good."

"Where are you this morning?"

"I'm at Micah's condo."

"When did you get in?"

"Last night."

"I was so glad when Willow told me yesterday that you would be here for the call this afternoon."

"Yes. Actually it was Micah's idea to come back for the call. He thought it best for you and me to be together."

"Remind me to thank him later."

"Is there anything that I need to do before the call?"

"No. Everything is set for two o'clock. I would like for you to be here at one o'clock so we can go over a few points before the call."

"I'll be there."

"I look forward to seeing you this afternoon."

"Good-bye for now."

"Good-bye."

Micah and Callie arrived at the William Littleton Law Offices at one o'clock. Willow ushered them into the conference room where her attorney was waiting. He stood as they entered the room.

"Hello Callie, Micah. I'm so glad you could make it today."

"Hi Bill."

"Callie, if you will sit here beside me and Micah, you can sit beside her. I think it will be much better that we are together today."

Callie smiled. "Like I told you, it was Micah that insisted that we come down instead of trying to do our part remotely."

Bill turned to Micah. "Very good call sir."

"Thanks. I felt it would be better if you are able to advise her, if necessary."

He turned to Callie. "I can see that Micah has your best interests at heart."

She turned to Micah, smiled and turned back to her attorney. "I know."

"We can handle this call any way you want, but I have had more than a little experience with these type situations and I recommend I moderate it to keep things moving and keep them moving in the direction we want."

"That sounds good to me."

"Great. It is important that we maintain control of the call. I don't anticipate that things will degenerate to a shouting match, but if they do, I will ask you and Mr. Kramer to leave the call and his attorney and I will decide whether the conversation will continue. Conversely, there is no need to sit here around this table with a lot of dead air. If things bog down, I will ask for additional comments."

He turned to Micah. "Mr. Marsh, as long as you are silent when the mikes are open, I see no need to disclose your attendance at this meeting."

Micah looked first to Callie and then to Mr. Littleton. He smiled. "I will be as quiet as a church mouse."

"Okay, before I get them on the line, I need to tell you about this telephone. It's a special conference phone." He pointed to a speaker in the center of the table and a microphone in front of his place and Callie's. "When I get them on the phone, we will keep both our mikes on mute unless we want to be heard. By keeping them muted, we can discuss anything they have to say before we respond."

Bill continued. "When we have the connection established, I will ask that everyone introduce themselves. I will go first, and then you will touch the green button on the mike and introduce yourself. Then press the red button to mute it. Since it was his idea for the call I suggest we let him have his say first. There is one other thing, I will be recording the call. The telephone system itself will record the call, but I am also going to record our discussions during the call. We don't want to miss anything that we may need to review later."

Suddenly Callie was even more glad they decided to travel to Florida for the call. "Bill, I have no idea what I am going to say."

"Don't worry. It was the other side's idea for the call, so the burden is on them."

"I suppose you're right."

"Depending on what he has to say, I strongly suggest that you resist the temptation to immediately respond. You don't want to say anything in haste that would come back later to stand in the way of a favorable property settlement. We can call for a recess of a few minutes to formulate your response or we can come back together later for another call."

"If at all possible, I would like to be done with this thing today. I can't imagine anything he has to say today will change my mind. I'm so glad we are here with you, Mr. Littleton."

"Do you have any idea what he wants to talk about?"

"Before I left, I made a couple sizable withdrawals from our bank accounts." She smiled a sheepish little smile. "He may want to talk about that."

Bill laughed. "I would say that is a distinct possibility. Now, before we get on the phone with them, there is something else you need to know. His attorney has told me Bart is convinced he can talk you into a reconciliation, if he can talk to you."

Callie looked at Micah and noticed he was not smiling. She reached for his hand and smiled. "I'm not going back."

Micah still looked serious. She patted his hand and then looked back to Bill. "Here is the thing. Bart and I were over as a couple, a long time before I left."

There were a few moments of silence. Her attorney didn't want to cut her off. When it was obvious she had nothing further to say, he continued. "At some point, we will have to negotiate a property settlement."

Callie nodded.

"Normally, I would anticipate that to be the main topic for discussion on a call, but today I believe Mr. Kramer wants to talk about reconciliation."

Callie took a deep breath and began. "That is not going to happen. He can talk about it as much as he wants. It won't matter. Our marriage has been over for years now. As I have told you, I am not going back to him. I've moved on."

Micah had been sitting quietly during the proceedings and decided to speak. "Callie, if you would be more comfortable, I can leave the room during the call."

Bill and Callie both turned to Micah.

"Absolutely not. Micah, without your support, I would still be miserable in New York. You have been my rock and I appreciate you more than you can ever possibly know. I want you right here by my side, as long as that is what you want to do."

"You know I'm here for you."

"Yes. I do. Thank you for everything."

"As your attorney, I feel I must point out that your relationship with Micah may come into question."

She turned to Bill. "I don't understand. He isn't going to say anything."

"That is correct, but at some point, Bart may ask you if there is someone else and you need to be able to answer his question quickly, without hesitation. A good response, might be, there never was anyone else."

"Micah and I are just friends."

"Yes, of course, but you have been living with him since September. It would be understandable that Mr. Kramer might make certain assumptions."

"I suppose I see your point."

"That is also why it is imperative that you not rush to press that green button. Take all the time you need to respond to any question. You don't want to accidentally say something that will lead him to believe there is someone else, unless that is what you really want. If he asks where you have been living, I suggest that you say you are staying with a friend. Don't mention names, locations or anything else you don't want to disclose. You don't want to say something that would lead him to believe you are not steadfast in your desire to obtain a divorce."

"Yes, I see."

A half hour before the call was to commence, Bart walked into Syd Winslow's office. Syd waved him into a side chair. "Are you ready for this thing?"

Bart pulled a stack of index cards from his pocket. "I've got everything I need right here."

"You don't want to sound stiff. You're not going to read something, are you?"

"Oh, no. I just want to make sure I don't forget anything."

"Do you have an idea what you're looking for in a property settlement?"

"Syd, there isn't going to be a property settlement. She will come back once I explain everything to her."

"Man, I don't know. Everything her attorney has told me leads me to believe she isn't interested in reconciliation."

"I know all that, but I haven't explained everything to her."

At two forty-five, New York time, Syd said, "I have one of our small conference rooms reserved for us this afternoon. Come with me."

Syd led Bart to a conference room where they had conducted meetings with clients when he was on staff at Rogers, Singleton and Judd. He recognized the set up for a conference call and settled into the chair Syd indicated. He removed his suit jacket and placed it on the chair beside him.

At 2:59 the conference phone began to buzz and lights began to flash. Syd reached over and touched the button to answer the call. "Syd Winslow."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Winslow. This is Bill Littleton. This call is a courtesy to your client. I will moderate the call so we don't get bogged down or waste anyone's time. The call is being recorded in the event of questions later regarding it's content. Let's start by introducing ourselves. Like I said, I am William Littleton, Mrs. Kramer's attorney."

He nodded to Callie. She took a deep breath and leaned forward in her seat. She reached out and pressed the green button. "Callie Kramer." Then she pressed the mute button. There was a longer than expected silence. She smiled then and nodded at Mr. Littleton.

"Mr. Winslow, you may proceed."

"We are likewise recording the call. I'm Sydney Winslow, Mr. Kramer's attorney."

"I'm Barton Kramer."

Callie raised her eyebrows. "He's already trying to put on airs."

"It doesn't matter." Mr. Littleton said, "just remember that you can take as long as you want to respond to anything he says, or you can choose not to respond at all. It is your call."

"Thanks, Mr. Littleton."

"Bill." He smiled.

Bill reached to turn on his mike. "Mr. Winslow, since it was at your client's insistence that we are having this call, we feel he should go first." He muted his mike.

"Okay, Bart here is your chance. Be careful what you say."

"I will." He reached in front of him and pressed the button to turn on his mike. He took a deep breath and looked at the first card. "Callie, I would much rather be having this conversation in person." He paused.

Bill and Micah looked at Callie. "I'm not saying a word."

After it became apparent that she was not going to respond, he continued. "I have missed you so much. I don't mind telling you I have been on an emotional roller coaster for months now."

He paused, but again there was no response, so he plowed on. "Callie, I'll admit that I haven't been the best husband."

"Ya think?" she said, glad she didn't have to be concerned with anything she said while the phone was muted. "Bill do you have something I can write on. I think I'm going to need to take some notes."

"Sure, I'll get some paper." He reached into a drawer and quickly pushed two notepads and pens to Callie and Micah.

When Callie made no response, Bart looked at Syd and frowned.

"On the morning of September 11th, when I found out about the attacks, I began to think about what was really important in life and realized you were the best part of my life, and you might be gone. It was so awful. I couldn't reach you. I know things were bad between us and I realized at that moment, nothing was important to me without you. Callie, I realized I want to have children with you."

Micah watched as Bart's words invaded the room. "It wasn't just that," Callie said as she sadly shook her head.

There was total silence. Then Bart asked, "Callie are you there? Are you going to say anything?"

Bill reached for his mike. "Mr. Kramer, Mrs. Kramer has instructed me to inform you that she will respond to your statement in it's entirety after you have finished. Are you finished with your comments?"

"No, of course not, but the Callie Kramer I know is a reasonable woman. How am I to know that she is really even in your office. All I've heard from her so far is her name."

Bill looked at Callie. "You probably should say something so he will know you are really here and not in Oklahoma or somewhere else." He smiled and it elicited the response from Callie that he wanted.

She smiled back at Bill. Some of the tension left Micah's face as she said to the group. "I suppose I could say something." She reached for the mute button.

"Bart, Mr. Littleton is doing exactly what I asked of him. Now if you want to say something to me, get on with it. Otherwise, this call will be over." She muted the phone. "That felt good."

Micah squeezed her hand and smiled. "Bill, you may want to see if he is still on the call."

Bill laughed and then reached for his mike. "Mr. Kramer?"

"I'm still here," he snapped. There was more silence. Then Bart continued. "Those few days until I got home from Denver were the worst. I called everyone I could think of and no one had seen you. I finally got on a train and spent nearly three days getting back to New York. When I got home, you weren't there of course. I found your note Friday night, but I didn't find out what else you had been up to until the next week. I have to admit, you were pretty smart. I looked from one end of the house to another and couldn't find any trace of the money, so I figured you must have taken it to work with you that morning. You have to admit, the bombing was a great cover for you. How did you get out of town?"

After half a minute of silence she shook her head and pressed the mute button. "Is that all you have to say?" Then she muted the phone again and sat back in her chair.

In a somewhat dejected tone, he said. "No." After a few more moments of silence, he began again. "I never told anyone at the office about your note. I played the part of the grieving widower and tried to get my life back on track. As you know, your idea to get a professional to check our apartment for bugs was a good one. It was bugged. It turns out that it was good old Fincher Fowler & Pratt. They told me later that they were concerned that with my loss I might be vulnerable to the FBI. They said they were keeping an eye on me to protect me. The thing is, the apartment was bugged before 9-11. As far as I know, they never knew that I was aware of the bugs. After you left, I was contacted by the FBI. It turns out they had contacted you first. I wish so much that you had told me. Things might have gone so much differently. Anyway, with nothing else going on in my life, I started talking to them. Then out of the blue, they served a search warrant on our basement storage room. At that point, I realized you had to be alive and hiding out somewhere. Your pal Agent Maddox claimed that he didn't know where you were, but I sent the letter requesting a meeting anyway. It seems that I am in somewhat of a precarious situation. If I don't cooperate with the Feds, they assure me I'll eventually go to jail along with a large number of my colleagues at the firm. The problem is that if I cooperate with the Feds, the partners and many of those same associates will most certainly be very unhappy with me. The last four attorneys that worked in my position are currently pushing up daisies and two of their wives are right there along side them. I don't know details, but they each died under questionable circumstances. Callie, my love, I am concerned for your safety if I testify in court, but at this point I feel that I have no choice other than to testify. I have requested that you and I both be allowed to enter the witness protection program after the trial. With the money you took when you left and the money in another account, we can live comfortably for a long time. Callie, we were really good together. I love you. We can work this out. Just give us a chance." Then he stopped talking.

Bill looked at Callie. "I know you said you want to wrap this up this afternoon, but I feel we should discuss some issues before you answer him."

Callie looked to Micah. "What do you think?"

"I think that you are paying Bill to look out for your interests and if he thinks you should talk about some things, you should talk. It's not going to hurt to delay this for a few hours or even a few days."

"Exactly." Bill said.

"Okay, Bill, I want to say a couple things to him and then you can tell them that we are going to consider what he said and get back to his attorney. To keep him interested in being cooperative, leave the option of further talks on the table."

Bill looked at Micah. "Smart woman we have here. Go ahead with your comments and then I'll wrap things up."

"Just so you boys know, in spite of anything I might say in the next few seconds, I am not going to reconcile with Bart. He and I are finished. I am just interested in a favorable dissolution of our marriage."

She turned to the mike and pressed the button. "Bart, I must say that you surprise me. You've given me a lot to think about." She pressed the mute button and turned to Bill.

"You may wrap it up counselor."

"I want to thank everyone for their cooperation this afternoon. Mr. Kramer, you've given my client several things to ponder. We will discuss this additional information and provide you with her response shortly. If she has questions, will you be agreeable to the submission of written questions or perhaps another conference call?"

"I would absolutely be in favor of as many calls as she wishes. As far as I'm concerned, it is not necessary to involve the attorneys."

"Alright then. Thanks again for your cooperation. Good-bye." Bill pressed the button to end the call.

In New York, Bart turned to Syd. "That's it? Thanks for your cooperation. Then Good-bye."

"You didn't really expect her to tell you she would be on the next plane to New York, did you?

"No, I guess not, but I had hoped she would be a little more involved in the conversation."

"You've got to know that her attorney was probably pulling the strings today. They probably decided not to respond before the call ever began. That's what I would have advised a client of mine."

"I know. Me too, but I suppose I was hoping to have a regular conversation with her."

"Well, the good news is that they left that door open. Maybe soon."

"I hope so. I know I could convince her to come back if I just had the opportunity."

"I must say you handled yourself pretty well this afternoon."

"But she didn't respond to anything."

"Bart, she has an attorney. If you were representing her, you wouldn't want her to say anything right away either, would you?"

"I suppose not. What do you think?"

"I'm just surprised they didn't say anything about a property settlement. I would take that as a good sign, if I were you."

"I guess you're right."

"How soon do you think we'll hear something?"

"At this point, it is up to her to decide. Try to be patient. A fast or slow reply doesn't necessarily mean anything."

"It's strange being on this side of the conversation."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm usually the one telling the client to be patient."

"Are you going back to your office?"

"No, I think it's better that I just go home this afternoon."

Chapter 33

At the William Littleton Law Office, Micah tore a sheet of paper from his pad, folded it and stuck it into his pocket. Callie looked at her page of notes and turned to her attorney. "Okay, what do I do now?"

"Let's take a little break and come back after we've had some time to digest everything that was said. I'll have Willow transcribe the recordings so we will have something to look at."

Micah stepped to Callie's chair. "Bill, we had a late big breakfast and weren't hungry at noon. I need to take this woman and buy her some lunch."

"You do that. Take your time. When you come back we'll talk strategy for the next part of this process."

Callie smiled. "Bill, thank you for everything."

"You don't need to thank me. It's my job."

"Thanks anyway. We'll be back in a few minutes."

"I'll see you then."

Forty-five minutes later, they returned. Willow took them back to the same conference room as before. Bill joined them a couple minutes later with a smile on his face. "I just got off the phone with Syd Winslow. He wanted to know how soon to expect your response."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him that after the call, you left and said you would be in touch."

"Oh, you're going to make me into a bad guy."

"Absolutely not. He has no business making calls trying to press us for an answer. I didn't tell him, but we will take as long as we want before sending him your response and if he calls again, I might send it by regular mail."

They all shared a laugh. "Now let's get down to business. Willow should have the transcript in a few minutes, but before she does, is there anything you want to talk about?"

"He didn't have anything to say that makes me want to change my mind about the divorce, if that is what you are wondering about. Everything I heard today was how this has affected him. I didn't just wake up on 9-11 and decide to hit the road. My life with Bart was terrible. He mentioned children, but what about having to know where I was all the time. I'm also not forgetting about the time he hit me. He promised never to do it again, but that thought was always in the back of my mind. Today it sounds as if he is more concerned about not being alone after he testifies against his law firm and having enough money to live the good life once he goes into hiding, or whatever they call it. I don't care what he says, I think he would really just like to have all our money back under his control. What did you think of what he had to say?"

"I know his stated objective was to get you to reconcile, but there are some issues that he brought up which are troubling to me, as far as your personal safety is concerned. Since you are not interested in reconciliation, I believe we need to be concerned with your safety primarily and your property settlement secondarily. He said that previous associates with his law firm in his position are now deceased. Since he and the members of his law firm all thought you were dead, you have been safe. If they discover you are alive, you may eventually be in some danger, considering your part in providing information for the search warrant for your basement. I believe a conversation with Agent Maddox might be of some value to you at this point."

"Should I contact him?"

"No, I believe it would be best if I make the contact. I'll do that in the next few days." He turned to Micah. "I noticed you made a note. Would you mind sharing with me?"

"No, not a bit. I just found it interesting that he and Callie both passed through the Amtrak Station in Chicago."

Bill observed, "Life takes some interesting turns."

"Yes it does. I used to think I led a pretty dull life, before this beautiful woman came back into it."

"So, you two have known each other for a long time?"

"Yes, we went to high school together."

"We were both nerds."

Bill laughed. "I was too. Isn't it great that things change."

"Yes sir, it is."

"Okay Bill, what should I do now?"

"I don't know how much I can find out from the FBI, but I would like to have an idea as to how soon he could be testifying. On the off chance his law firm doesn't know you are on this side of the grave, I would prefer that knowledge to remain secret. After listening to Bart, I have an idea. It might be in your best interest to postpone your divorce until Bart resolves his legal issues."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if we look at it strictly from your point of view, and Bart goes to prison, it could be easier for you to get the divorce and settlement you want. On the other hand, it appears that Bart may be in some personal danger if and when he testifies against his colleagues. That could result in some danger spilling over to you if you are at his side. He says he has requested to enter witness protection, with you. If you can come to terms with it, a little misdirection might benefit your situation. If you allow him to believe reconciliation is a possibility after the trial is over, he might be more likely to continue to keep your secret secret."

"Bill, are you telling me you think I should tell him I'll go back to him and then when his legal issues are resolved, divorce him?"

"No, not at all."

"It sounds like it to me."

"Callie, let's hear him out."

"Callie, it won't be necessary to lie to Bart. My advice to you is to continue on as you have for the past few months. You just need to be mindful of what you say. It won't be that difficult. Keep in mind that Bart has no way to contact you. In fact, I can take care of most of the communications for you. If you are agreeable, we will proceed from this point, at glacial speed. Even under the most ideal circumstances, a divorce can sometimes take months to negotiate and finalize. After I talk with Agent Maddox, maybe we'll have a better idea just how slow we need to proceed."

"What do you suggest we do this afternoon?"

"How long are you going to be in town?"

"We would like to stay longer, but Micah has to be back in Oklahoma tomorrow."

"Unfortunately, I've got to be back on the job site by noon. We are booked in the morning on a 7:30 flight to Atlanta and then on to Tulsa."

Willow walked into the conference room and set a stack of papers on the corner of the conference table. Bill slid copies of the transcript to Callie and Micah. "Okay, here's what we can do. Let's take a look at the transcript. We want to look it over very carefully. Let's make note of everything you want to address in your response."

Over the next hour, they marked up their copies of the transcript and made notes on the backs of the pages and in the margins. They compared notes and discussed possible responses to the various points Bart had made during the call.

At five o'clock, Bill noticed the time. "I don't think we are going to have this finished today."

Callie looked up from the papers in front of her. "I so wanted to walk out of here this afternoon knowing that my days of being matrimonially attached to Bart Kramer would soon be behind me, but it looks like I'm going to be married to him for some time. I'm just so tired. I want to move on." She closed her eyes. A few seconds later when she reopened them, Micah was waiting, gazing intently into her eyes. There was an instant of knowing communication before they remembered they were not alone. Their hands started to reach out to each other and then they stopped. Micah's eyes darted to Bill. Callie smiled. Her smile disappeared and they both turned toward Bill.

Bill smiled. "I know that's what you wanted and continue to want, but I truly believe it is in your best interest to allow this situation to play out slowly. With that said, it appears that this encounter has left you worn out. Let's call it quits for today. As I believe you agree, it is in your best interest for this process to progress slowly. With that said, I'll put something together and email it to you in a couple days. I would like for you to do the same thing. Then we'll get together on the phone and talk about our drafts."

"How long can we wait to send the response?"

"As long as we want. You are not even obligated to respond."

"I'm not going back to him."

"Yes, Callie, I have no doubt about that, but to protect your interests, I don't believe you want to slam the door in his face."

"You are very right, so what do you recommend we do?"

"I believe the response should be written as if you were writing a letter to him, but you will want to keep it vague. I think it should have an overall upbeat feel. Acknowledge that some of his points may be valid, but he has to admit there were serious problems with your relationship when you left. You are going to have to think long and hard about your future and decide if it will be together. You're concerned about your safety and you're concerned that your reappearance in New York might prove to be a distraction to him as he decides what to do about the legal issues he faces. You being there might also limit his options. The main thing is that your response will not agree to anything."

Micah spoke up. "So mostly the letter will be a stalling tactic for time?"

"Yes, ideally I would like for Bart to bring up the subject of the witness protection program at some point in the future and suggest getting in touch with the FBI or initiate the process. I don't want to mention that in the first letter because each time we have to communicate we will burn off at least a week of time. The way I see it working is that when we agree on the content of our communications to him, I will overnight the document to you for signature, you will take at least a day to send it back to me and then I'll send it to Bart. As soon as I receive anything from him, I'll scan it and email it to you."

"Okay, I think I get it. We will keep a pleasant, at least civil line of communication going, without really saying anything until things cool off with either the FBI or Fincher Fowler & Pratt."

"Exactly. I think we should try to put something in the hands of his attorney in about a week, but right now, I believe we should call it quits for today. By the time you get home tomorrow, I will have something drafted for you to consider. We can make any changes you feel are necessary and then we'll start the process of getting your signature on it and sending it to Mr. Winslow. Realistically, it could be the end of next week or later before they get anything from us. Is there anything else we need to discuss today?"

"Bill, I would like for you to find out more about Bart's request for witness protection."

Ten minutes later, as Micah and Callie left the parking lot, Micah asked, "What would you like to do this evening?"

"I know it's crazy, but I would like to go swimming and play in the surf."

They went swimming, enjoyed a late dinner out and returned to the condo.

Early on the morning of July 29th, Callie and Micah boarded a plane to return to Oklahoma. She dropped him at the job site a few minutes before noon.

Later that afternoon, Bart called Syd.

"Have you heard anything?"

"You can't be serious. We just talked to them yesterday. Think about it. If Callie was your client, there is no way you would respond this quickly either. Give it a few days. I will call for Brad the minute I hear from them."

"Okay man. I get it, but I can't promise I won't call you again before you call me."

Syd laughed as he hung up the phone.

Across town, Trent Maddox's phone rang. "Trent Maddox."

"Hello, this is Bill Littleton. I'm Callie Kramer's attorney."

"Yes sir, Mr. Littleton. How is Mrs. Kramer?"

"Oh, she doesn't like that name."

"My mistake. How is Callie?"

"She is well."

"What can I do for you Mr. Littleton?"

"It's Bill."

"Okay, What can I do for you Bill?"

"I had a conference call last week with Callie and Mr. Kramer. During the call, he mentioned his cooperation with you and that he would be entering witness protection after the trial and he wants her to join him."

"First, Mr. Littleton, I want to caution you to keep that information confidential. It could potentially compromise the case. I know you understand."

"Absolutely. Like I said, in the course of the call, Mr. Kramer basically offered to take her into witness protection with him."

"Ah, about that, Mr. Kramer may be getting a little ahead of himself. He has requested protection after his testimony, but a determination has not been made in his case."

"I'm not sure I follow."

"It's like this. Once the trial date is set and we get closer, the prosecutor will decide if an offer will be extended."

"I see. How soon do you anticipate this case could go to trial?"

"It could be months. The prosecutor hasn't even set a date to begin to impanel a grand jury. September has been mentioned to Mr. Kramer, but that is just optimistic speculation."

"I see."

"Realistically, it could be several months before he testifies at a trial."

"Thank you for the information Agent Maddox. I would like to share this information with Callie."

"As long as she understands that it is to be kept confidential."

"I will absolutely do that. If you don't mind, I would like to be able to contact you from time to time to check on the progress of our situation here. Would that be alright?"

"Sure, as long as you realize my answers will necessarily be phrased to protect the case."

"I understand completely. Thank you sir, and good day." He hung up the phone.

When Callie picked up Micah at the job site on Thursday afternoon, she had news.

"I talked to Bill this afternoon. He told me he talked to the Feds. They told him that Bart has requested to be placed into witness protection, but no determination has been made. Bill has almost finished his proposed response to Bart's call. I told him I would work on mine tomorrow. He doesn't want to influence my response, so he said he will email his as soon as he gets mine."

"Do you want me to help?"

"Thanks, but no. I think it would be best if I do all my own work."

"I seem to recall one of our teachers in high school saying the same thing."

"It was Mrs. Pope."

"That's right. I haven't thought about her for years."

"Anyway, I'm going to work on my letter tomorrow. I'll let you look at it when I'm finished, but I want the first draft to be mine alone."

"Okay, I understand. So, what is on our schedule for this evening?"

"I'm afraid it will be another exciting evening at the RV."

"Actually, that sounds great to me. It's been a long day and I'm tired. Let's stop and get something to eat on the way home."

Sam Waters looked up from some paperwork as Trent Maddox dropped into the empty chair beside his desk. "What's up Trent?"

"I got a call from Callie Kramer's attorney."

"Oh?"

"You know Bart seemed to think he could convince Callie to come back to him, if they could just talk. Well, apparently she agreed to a call. I talked to Bill Littleton this morning and it seems that Bart has invited her into witness protection."

"Wait a minute, he can't do that."

"I know that and you know that, but apparently he doesn't know that."

"What are you going to do?"

"I guess I'm going to have to set up a meeting with Bart and emphasize the importance of keeping his mouth shut. We are so close, but his loose lips could ruin everything."

The next Monday, Callie received an email from Bill Littleton.

Dear Callie,

As promised, attached is a draft of my idea for a response to Mr. Kramer's comments during our call last week. I will blend our responses together and send the combined response to you for your review.

Bill

Bart hung up the phone from talking to a client and noticed Jim Lewis standing in his doorway. His blood pressure spiked and his heart rate accelerated. Jim smiled a fake smile and asked, "How's it going Bart?"

Bart returned the smile with one equally phony. He took a deep breath, hoping to slow his run away heart and replied, "Pretty well."

"I hear Moccasin Crossing is fully operational now."

"It's not quite at capacity yet, but it should be within another month." Jim didn't say anything, so Bart continued. "The property acquisition phase went slower than usual this time. Then, more of the managers left than usual after the acquisition. When the new managers took over, there were some training issues." Bart suddenly realized he was rambling and shut up.

"I just wanted to tell you that you did a good job on this one."

Bart said, "Thanks," and managed to keep a lid on his rambling.

Jim turned to leave, but stopped. "I just wanted to let you know that we have heard the FBI is back at it again. We all need to be extra careful and vigilant."

"I'm glad you told me. I'll keep that in mind."

"You do that. Keep up the good work."

Bart had to wonder if his activities had been found out. "They must still be secret," he thought. "I probably wouldn't be breathing now, if they knew."

On Thursday afternoon, August 8th, Micah returned to the RV with news. The project was completed and it was time to pack up and move on to Boise. Over their celebratory dinner, a tradition for him at the end of each completed project, he was quieter than usual. After dessert, Callie reached across the table and took his hand in hers.

She looked worried. "Micah, what is wrong?"

He toyed with the idea of denying that anything was wrong, but decided to go with the truth instead. "There's something that has been sort of bothering me since we went to Florida for your call."

He had her attention and she didn't like the feeling that she was getting. "What is it?"

He took several seconds to gather his thoughts. "I don't really know how to say it."

Callie began to get impatient. "Just say it."

He frowned and took a deep breath. "I've been dragging you around the country since March."

She stopped him before he could say more. "You haven't taken me anywhere I didn't want to go. I've enjoyed every minute of it."

His eyes bored into her. "Callie, can you honestly say that?"

Almost on the verge of tears, she said, "I can and I did."

Micah continued with the same intensity. "After I heard Bart pour his heart out to you the other day, I realized you should have the opportunity to decide what you want to do, without me hovering. It is time for me to step back into the shadows."

For the first time since they had been together, she started to get upset. "Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"When I'm sure about what I want to do, would you like me to share my decision with you?"

"Absolutely. But only if you want to."

"Good." She continued to hold his hand. "Micah, the truth is, I made up my mind several months ago. I've told you before, I am finished with Bart Kramer."

"So, what do you want to do now?"

"Before I answer your question, I have a question of my own."

"Go ahead."

Callie suddenly looked nervous. She pursed her lips and then began. "Now I want you to be totally honest with me. Have you ever regretted your offer to help me?"

Micah pulled his hand away from hers. He sat back in the booth across from a very nervous woman. He cleared his throat and leaned forward. "Honestly, I have had a few regrets."

Callie's countenance dropped.

Micah looked away and then back to her. "Probably my first regret was that I didn't tell you how I felt about you in high school. The second regret that I have is that I didn't stick around to dance with you at the reunion." He looked at her and saw that she was trying to smile in spite of the tears welling up in her eyes. "I must honestly say that I have had absolutely no regrets about offering to help you and no regrets since you took me up on my offer." By the time he finished, they were both smiling and were once again holding hands across the table. "Now, it's your turn to answer my question."

Blinking back the tears, she said, "I honestly don't know what's next. I should be planning my next move, but I'm not. In the days before I left New York I was sure I would be looking for something to do by now. Honestly, I am having a blast, traveling around the country with you."

"I have really enjoyed having your company."

"So what are we going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean do we have a future?"

"I don't know."

"For nearly a year we've been together, but we've purposely maintained a safe distance."

"Most of the time." Micah smiled as he remembered a few instances when they let their guard down, most recently the night before the call in Florida.

"In a normal situation, what would have happened to us?"

"I don't really know. I don't think it matters. This is where we are. What has happened to us?"

"You can't tell me that you don't feel it."

"Can't feel what?"

"A connection."

"Callie, I have felt a connection with you since I first saw you across the room at the reunion. Seeing you again and being comfortable just talking to you rocked my world."

"But is that enough?"

"I don't know. I feel so comfortable with you. It's like we skipped over dating and falling in love and went straight to being an old married couple."

She looked at him and smiled. "Yeah, we skipped over all the good parts."

"We haven't skipped all the good parts. Do you think we could do that?"

"What?"

"Do you think, under different circumstances, we could have dated and fallen in love?"

"I don't know."

"Why?"

"Because these are the only circumstances we have and I already have."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know if we could ever date, but sometime between last June, at the reunion and today, I fell in love with you. I didn't mean to. I didn't intend to let it happen. In fact, it wasn't supposed to happen. You were just a friend helping me through a hard time. I'm a married woman and it shouldn't happen that way, but I realize now that the love Bart and I had, died a long time before you and I rediscovered each other at our class reunion."

"Callie, I first loved you when we were in high school. Then we graduated and went our separate ways and I gave up on ever seeing you again. When I started thinking about going to the reunion, I wondered if I would have those same feelings if I saw you again. I don't mind telling you. A year ago at the reunion, my life changed. When you told me about your life situation, I simply had to help you. At the time, I had no illusions that I would ever be more than your friend. I didn't, and I still don't want you to feel crowded or pressured to decide what is best for you for the rest of your life. I have struggled to give you the space you need. Despite my best intentions, it has happened again. It's impossible for me not to love you."

"I return to my original question. What are we going to do?"

"After hearing Bart, I am beginning to have concerns for your safety. He is making a bold move, cooperating with the Feds."

"I know. That concerns me too. I don't love him any more, but I don't hate him either."

"I realize it is probably naive on my part, but I feel you are safer with me than at the condo by yourself."

She smiled. "You mean I can go to Boise with you?"

"And later to Billings and anywhere else I go for as long as you'll put up with me."

"That sounds serious."

"It is serious. If it weren't for the inconvenient matter of Bart Kramer, I would suggest a quick trip to Vegas to make an honest woman of you."

"You wouldn't toy with the fragile emotions of a woman under your spell, would you?"

"I'm not going to do it now, because I'm still a little old fashioned, but I can tell you right now that as soon as you are free, I am going to make you a proposition that I hope you can't refuse, and get you to walk down the aisle before you can change your mind."

"Oh, Micah, that can't happen soon enough for me."

They left the restaurant and went back to the RV like they always had before, but tonight was different. On most of the nights before, after dinner they had settled in to read or watch TV until bed time. Sometimes he sat or stretched out on the couch and she sat at the dining table or in one of the recliners. Other nights as he worked on his computer at the dining table, she took the couch. Sometimes the TV was on, but it was only a noise as they both were occupied with other things.

Tonight when they stepped inside the RV, she asked if he would like to watch a movie.

"Sure, do you have something in mind?" She took him by the hand and led him across the living room and playfully pushed him down on the couch.

As she stepped toward the cabinet where the tapes were stored, she said, "No, I don't have anything in mind. Why don't I just open the cabinet and reach in and pull out one at random?"

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

She turned around to him and smiled. "Mr. Marsh, do you have movies in here that you don't want me to see?"

"No, it's not that at all. It's just that I'm not sure that my movie collection will be what you want to see."

"I'm sure it will be fine."

"Okay."

She reached inside and pulled out a tape. "Um, I, Rocky V was not what I had in mind."

"I tried to warn you."

"I'll try again." The second tape was Sands of Iwo Jima. The third was Top Gun. She continued until there was quite a unique selection of tapes in the floor. She looked up at him as he smiled.

"I tried to warn you."

"Yes, you did. I'm beginning to think there is not a single romantic comedy in this RV."

"You mean, other than us?"

"Oh, Micah. Do you think we are romantic?"

"I don't know about us being romantic, but the sight of you looking through my movie collection for one you like is a rather comical."

"What time is it?"

He looked at the clock over her head. "Eight thirty-seven."

She stood up and walked to the couch. "Come on. Let's go. It's still early."

"For what?" he asked, standing up.

"If I am going to continue to hang out with you, I am going to have to do something about your inadequate movie collection."

He smiled. "So now I'm inadequate."

She grinned back playfully. "I didn't say you are inadequate. I am saying your movie collection is inadequate."

"About my movie collection."

"What about it?"

"I had it in a certain order in there and a good bit of it is strewn all over the floor. You know I had those all arranged in a certain way."

A worried look clouded her face. "I'm so sorry. Tell me how you had it and I'll put them back in order."

"You don't have to do that. I'll get them later."

"No, I insist. I messed them up. I'll put them back in order."

"No, really. I'll put them back." He stooped to the floor and began to pick up tapes. When he had them picked up, he opened the cabinet and set them inside and closed the door. "There, that's better."

She looked confused. "You just stacked them in there."

"I know."

"I thought you said you had them in a certain order."

"Yes, random."

"Random?"

"I had them all stacked in the cabinet in random order. Now they are back in the cabinet in random order."

"Oh, you." she said as she playfully cuffed his shoulder. "You're crazy."

"I know."

"Come on, I want to buy you some proper movies."

An hour and a half later, they returned with a bag full of movies. When they stepped inside, Micah looked at the clock. "It is getting late, but there is something we need to talk about."

Callie was suddenly worried again. He read her face and smiled. "No, nothing bad. There are just a few things we need to decide." Her face began to soften and she eventually smiled.

"That's better." He reached out for the bag of tapes. He took them in one hand and reached for her hand with the other. He led her to the couch and motioned for her to sit down. He opened the cabinet and set the bag of tapes inside. "I won't need to arrange them right away."

She smiled. "Right. Okay, what do we need to talk about?"

"You know I am finished here."

"Yes."

"I'm not scheduled to start in Boise until the 19th. That's a week from Monday. There is enough time for me to take you back to Florida if you want."

"Hello?"

"What?"

"Weren't you listening at dinner? I want to stay with you. Next week and the next week and every week after that. If things were different, I would propose to you myself right now. So, unless you don't want me with you, it appears that we are stuck with each other."

"Okay. With that settled, when do you want to leave for Boise?"

"Do you think it is too late to see Yellowstone?"

"No, it shouldn't be snowing out there yet."

"I would love to see it in the fall."

"Then let's skip the movie tonight and get an early start in the morning."

The next morning, at eight o'clock, they struck out on the road to Denver. Ten hours later, they pulled into the RV park where Micah had originally intended to wait for Callie when she left New York. A short night in Denver was followed by another long day of driving to arrive at Jackson, WY after dark. Monday morning, Micah's slumber was interrupted by a light tapping noise. When his eyes opened, Callie was standing in the doorway to the bedroom, already dressed. "Are you going to sleep all day?"

"No, of course not. What time is it?"

"Nine o'clock."

"Wow. I can't remember how long it's been since I slept this late."

"Well, you did this morning. Get dressed. Let's go find some breakfast and then go to the grocery store. We are out of most everything."

"Alright, I'll be right there."

Callie headed to the living room and Micah headed to the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, he joined her in the living room. "Let's go."

Chapter 34

On Monday afternoon, as he left the office, Bart's cell phone began to ring. He didn't recognize the number but answered anyway. "Bart Kramer."

"Hello Bart, this is Hank. If you're not busy, I would like for you to look at some printers with me this evening."

He was momentarily caught off guard, but quickly recovered. "Sure Hank. Do you want to meet somewhere?"

"How about if I pick you up at your place at 6:15?"

"I'll be downstairs waiting for you."

Bart hurried home and changed clothes and was somewhat patiently waiting downstairs in the lobby at exactly 6:15. When Trent pulled to a stop in front of the building, Bart was out the door. He slid into the sedan and without a word Trent pulled back into traffic. A half block down the street, Bart broke the silence. "I'm glad you called. I was probably going to wear one of your ties tomorrow."

"Is that so? What's on your mind?"

"Jim Lewis is on to you."

"How do you know?"

"He showed up in my office doorway a couple days ago. He stopped in to tell me that I was doing a good job. Just before he left, he told me that you guys are poking around again. You guys have a leak somewhere."

"Is that so?"

"It looks like it to me."

"What about your leak?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Bill Littleton told me you offered Callie witness protection. Bart, you can't do that."

"I know, but I had to do something. If I am going to get her back, I have to be able to offer her something for the future."

"I hope you know what you are doing. One word by you into the wrong ear and you could find yourself in more trouble than you can handle."

"I know Callie. She won't betray me."

Trent nodded his head in agreement with his informant, but he had his doubts. He knew Callie provided the information that was the basis for the basement search warrant, and when it didn't pan out, she provided copies of the diskettes Bart had moved to a safe location. "Bart, I don't want to rain on your parade, but she left you. I would be careful if I were you."

"Don't worry. You'll see. We'll be back together."

"Whatever you say." They rode on in silence to the same electronics store as before. Agent Maddox found a parking space and pulled in. "Are you ready?"

"We should probably make it look good and actually look at some printers."

"Oh, we are going to do that. I've actually been thinking about getting a new one for the home office. Let's go take a look."

The two men made their way inside the store. They browsed the selection of printers for several minutes and Trent actually made a purchase. With the new printer under his arm, they left the store to walk to the car. Trent spotted his fellow agent sitting on the bus bench where he was expected. As they walked past, he opened a magazine and pretended to read. If he had spotted anyone following the pair, he would have rolled the magazine and slapped his hand. They continued to the car and Trent drove back to Bart's apartment.

On August 21st, three weeks to the day, after their call, Bart's cell phone rang. "Brad?"

"No, you've got the wrong number."

Ten minutes later, Bart slipped out of the office and dialed Syd's number. "Syd Winslow."

"Hi Syd, it's Bart."

"Hey Bart. I got something in the mail this morning."

"It's about time. I'm assuming it is from Callie, or her lawyer."

"Yep. Do you want to pick it up or I can mail it to you."

"Have you read it?"

"No, it's addressed to you."

"Go ahead and open it and read it to me."

"Okay, just a minute." Bart heard him lay down the phone on the desk. There were a few seconds of silence, then the sound of an envelope being opened and papers shuffling. After a minute or two he thought he detected the phone had been picked up. "Are you going to read it or what?"

"In just a minute. I wanted to look it over. You will definitely want to look at it, but here goes. The letter is type written on her attorney's letterhead. Here goes.

Bart,

When I left home on the morning of September 11th, it was because of a lot of things. A lot of those things had been a long time coming. I can understand that the events of that day would cause you to reevaluate your feelings, but there were so many reasons that we were not making it as a couple.

I don't know if what we had can be salvaged. So many things would have to change for me to even consider a reconciliation. I was really unhappy. I don't want to live that way again.

In addition to the personal issues, there also seem to be some personal safety issues that need to be addressed before I can consider a reconciliation.

I am going to need assurances that my concerns will be addressed to my satisfaction.
  1. It is not acceptable for you to demand to always know where I am, to the point of check in calls when you are out of town.

  2. You will never raise your hand to me again.

  3. The personal safety issues that you mentioned will have to be resolved. I would be exposing myself to unnecessary danger by returning before their resolution.

To be honest, during the last eleven months, I have not given much thought to us getting back together. On the call, you said some encouraging things and I will have to give them serious consideration. If we are to get back together, I will have to have confidence that things won't go back to the way they were.

Callie"

"Is that it?" Bart asked, when Syd stopped reading.

"That's it. Come by this afternoon and pick it up."

"I don't think I'll pick it up, but I will stop by and take a look at it."

"What is your next move?"

"I'm not really sure. At some point I'll want to respond to her letter, but right now I don't know what I would say to her. To be honest, she has some valid points. I just wish this business with the FBI could be resolved."

On August 28th Micah completed his job in Boise. They headed to Helena, Montana.

Chapter 35

On September 4th, Callie received an email from Bill Littleton. "A grand jury has been seated. They will begin to look at evidence on Monday."

Monday morning, Bart called in sick. He was hardly ever sick, so his call didn't raise any red flags. At nine, he walked into the grand jury room and began his testimony. At eleven thirty he stepped off the witness stand. When he left the courtroom he walked straight to the restroom because by this point, he really did feel sick. He splashed cold water on his face and began to feel a little better. Syd was waiting when he walked out of the restroom.

"Are you alright? You looked a little pasty a few minutes ago."

"I think I'm going to be alright now. As I was walking off the witness stand, I think the reality of what I just did hit me. Now I've got to go back to work and act like everything is normal."

"I think you should go home and take it easy for the rest of the day and start fresh in the morning."

"Absolutely. There is no way I would consider going in this afternoon. It will be tough enough tomorrow."

Tuesday morning when Bart got to work, there was a voice mail message from Anson Fincher. Fincher wanted to see him as soon as he got to the office. He was immediately nervous but filled his coffee cup to appear more relaxed and walked to Mr. Fincher's office. When he knocked on the open door frame, Fincher looked up and said, "Oh good, you're here. Come on in and have a seat."

While Bart was sitting down, Fincher closed a folder that had been open on his desk and he turned off his computer monitor. "I didn't want to call you yesterday but I knew you would want to know as soon as possible."

"Would want to know what?"

Anson Fincher leaned back in his chair and pasted on a smile. "I know you've been anxious since you wrapped up Moccasin Crossing to get started on a new project. Well, there is a new one in New Mexico and it is going to be all yours."

The moment Bart stepped into Mr. Fincher's office, he was uneasy. For months he had thought he would be relieved when and if the firm ever let him head up a new project after everything that had transpired. This morning he convinced himself that his apprehension was just his paranoia trying to get the best of him.

"Great." Bart pushed back his apprehension and smiled. "It will be good to get started on something new."

"It will be setup like Moccasin Crossing. Santa Fe will be the geographic center of the project, but the client is in a little town about twenty miles away. The name of the town is Glorieta. The project name is Sandstone Partners. We need you to fly out there this afternoon and meet with the client, Clayton Jackson, tomorrow. He is anxious to get started. We want you to give him an overview of the type operation we create. You've done it before. Just give him enough of the specifics to make sure he is on board. Do you have any questions?"

"I thought the next project was going to be in Phoenix."

"It was, but we decided to move this one to the top of the list. It will run a smaller volume so it shouldn't take as long to implement. Clayton Jackson is a new client and he is anxious to get started. If things work out as we expect, he will want us to setup operations to support his bigger enterprises. We want to try to get it set up and ready to run by the first of the year. Do you have any other questions?"

"How long will I need to plan on being there this time?"

Fincher held up a folder. "Here are your tickets, your itinerary and a draft of the contract to leave with him. You will fly to New Mexico this afternoon and you'll be back by noon on Thursday. It's just a preliminary visit to the client so it will be short and sweet."

Bart reached for the folder. He opened it and glanced over the itinerary. There was no need to look at the contract. He had seen them before. He looked back to Mr. Fincher and said,"I suppose I should go home to pack."

Fincher smiled. "That's why I wanted to see you, first thing."

"Okay, I'll be on my way." Bart stood to leave.

"Have a good trip. I'll want an update Thursday afternoon when you get back."

"Will do." Bart returned to his office to pick up the things he would need on the trip. He sat down for a minute at his desk and read over the itinerary. He walked to his file cabinet and opened the top drawer. He pulled a file with the checklists he used when setting up a new project. For several seconds he stared at the red tie before deciding that his paranoia was getting the best of him. He left the tie in the drawer. He packed up his computer and locked up his office. He stopped by the supply room and picked up a few envelopes, pens and a couple of new legal pads.

He rode the elevator down stairs and was almost to the front door when he remembered he had used the last of his shaving cream this morning. He turned around and stepped into the drug store in the lobby of the building. He bought a can of shaving cream and left through the front door of the drug store that opened on the street. Joy Sargent was watching the front door of the office building and didn't see him exit from Corner Drug. He got home around nine o'clock. He was careful to not do or say anything to indicate he was the least bit nervous about the trip. He knew it was probable that somewhere, someone was listening. By ten he had everything packed. He packed the red tie, just in case he needed it. This was the first time he actually took comfort in knowing there was an FBI agent keeping watch. There was possibly someone from Fincher Fowler & Pratt watching too, and that didn't make him feel good at all.

In the terminal at the Santa Fe airport, he was surprised to see a woman holding up a sign reading B. Kramer. He walked up to her and said, "I'm Bart Kramer."

She smiled and said, "Welcome to Santa Fe, Mr. Kramer. I have your car just outside."

He climbed into the limo and ten minutes later, they pulled up in front of the hotel where he had reservations. As he got out of the car, the driver said, "I'll be around to pick you up at 7:45 in the morning."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

At 10 o'clock Trent Maddox got a call from Bob Kirby. "Trent Maddox."

"Trent, this is Bob. I took over the Kramer surveillance at 3 from Joy. She said she hadn't seen him since early this morning."

"Is there a problem?"

"Maybe. I don't know for sure, but I don't think he's here."

"Why not? Sometimes he works late."

"It's ten o'clock and there is no light on in his office. Do we have anyone on his apartment?"

"Not unless he is there."

"Stay with it, I'll contact building security and get back to you."

Thirty minutes later, Bob Kirby's cell phone interrupted the boredom of his evening sitting in a car in the alley across the street from Bart Kramer's office.

"Bob, you were right. We have a problem. Building security says there's no one in the Fincher Fowler & Pratt offices. I've got someone checking out his apartment right now. What do you think happened?"

"I know he hasn't come out of the front of the building since I've been here. He could have left through another exit. You know we can't cover all the exits with one person."

"I know. We have to operate on the assumption that he was not trying to slip past us."

" I hope he's at home."

"I do too. You might as well go home and get some sleep. We'll be waiting for him at home in the morning."

Bart had an early dinner in the hotel restaurant. On the flight to Santa Fe, he had come to the decision that it was time to write some very important letters, so he sat down in his room and pulled out one of the legal pads. It was a slow process. He wrote and rewrote until he had the letters just right and then wrote them again on clean sheets of paper. He folded the letter to Callie and put it into a legal sized envelope. He put that envelope into a larger envelope with a note to her attorney asking that he forward it to her. He sealed that envelope and put it into yet a larger envelope with a note for Syd to forward the enclosed envelope to Callie's attorney. When he was satisfied with his package, he walked downstairs to the front desk. He was sure it would need extra postage so he asked for directions to the Post Office. On the five block walk he didn't spot anyone following him. He purchased enough stamps from a vending machine to insure that his large padded envelope would arrive in Syd's mailbox. He returned to the hotel by a longer route and didn't spot anyone along the way. These guys in New Mexico were good. He returned to his room and went to bed.

"Where is Bart Kramer?" Trent Maddox asked as he walked into Sam's office.

"I don't know. The last time anyone saw him he was walking into his office building yesterday morning."

"I don't like the feel of this."

"He knows to stay in plain sight if he wants us to protect him."

"So what do we do?"

"Have you tried calling his cell?"

"Yeah. He doesn't answer."

"Let's have someone call for him at his office and see what they say."

"Good idea. Get someone on it."

On Wednesday morning Bart woke up surprisingly rested and refreshed. For a second he thought it was because he had sent that letter for Callie but he looked in the mirror and laughed at himself. "You are one paranoid sap." He laughed again and stepped into a steaming shower. Fifteen minutes later he dressed and went down stairs for breakfast at the hotel restaurant. The restaurant was located on the east side of the hotel with a bank of windows facing the mountains. He chose a table where he could see the mountains in the distance and take in the coming sunrise. As he ate, sunshine began to stream through the windows, warming the room and giving the morning a bright hopeful feeling. When he finished his breakfast he watched as the view of the mountains changed with each passing moment. It was a beautiful morning, too beautiful to waste sitting inside, so he made a quick trip to his room to retrieve his computer and papers. He exchanged nods with the clerk at the front desk and continued walking outside. He might not get a chance to spend any time outside once his meeting started. The air was crisp and clean as he waited for his transportation. This morning in these beautiful surroundings he felt silly about the letter he mailed to Syd last night. At precisely 7:45 his car arrived. This morning it was a black SUV limo. He climbed inside and settled back for the twenty mile drive to meet with Clayton Jackson in Glorieta. The privacy window was closed. He found an intercom button and pressed it.

"Yes, sir?"

"How long will it take to get to Glorieta?"

"At this time of day it should be about a twenty-five minute drive."

"Thank you." He settled back to enjoy the scenery. If he had checked a map he would have known that the car turned the wrong way when it left the hotel.

At eight o'clock a limo arrived at the hotel to pickup Bart Kramer. At ten minutes after eight, the driver walked inside to the front desk.

"I'm supposed to pickup a Bart Kramer. Could you call his room and tell him I'm here?"

"Isn't he outside? I just saw him walk outside, not twenty minutes ago."

"There is no one out there now. Maybe he came back inside and you just missed him."

"I suppose that's possible, but I haven't been that busy." The clerk shook her head. "I can call his room, but I'm pretty certain Mr. Kramer isn't there."

"I would appreciate it. We don't have much time to spare. I'm supposed to have him downtown in," he looked at his watch, "twenty five minutes."

She turned to the phone and dialed the room. In a few seconds she turned to the driver. I'm sorry, he doesn't answer."

"Thanks."

The driver returned to the limo and called his dispatcher for further instructions.

Thirty minutes into a ride that was only to be twenty-five, Bart began to get concerned. He reached for his cell phone. On the display it showed three missed calls. They were all three from Trent Maddox. He thought, "Why didn't I hear it?" He looked on the side of the phone and saw that it was set to silent mode. He frowned when he remembered turning off the ringer in the airport. "It's no wonder I didn't hear it," he thought. "This is just great. I wonder what he wants. I should call him back." He looked again at the screen. No Service. Perfect. It was at that precise moment he remembered he had accidentally exited the office from the drug store and not the main entrance. He shook his head. He couldn't believe his lapse. That explained why he didn't spot anyone following him last night. He pressed the intercom button and then again and again. He eventually held the button down for several seconds. There was no response. He tried the door latch. It was locked and would not open from the inside. A feeling of impending doom quickly permeated his mind, body and soul. "So this is it," he thought. With a sense of resignation he sat back in the seat and closed his eyes. It was too late for a red tie.

Thirty-five minutes into the drive, he started to feel light headed. Thirty-eight minutes after entering the SUV at the hotel, the lights went out for Bart Kramer, permanently. His last thought was that he should have put on the red tie and never stepped into that drug store.

At noon, a Fincher Fowler & Pratt representative called the hotel.

"Sands Hotel."

"Yes, I'm trying to locate Bart Kramer. He had reservations for last night at your hotel and he didn't make it to his 8:30 appointment this morning. Did he check in?"

"Yes, he did. His reservation is for two nights."

"The driver that was to pick him up this morning said he wasn't there."

"That's right. I talked to the driver. Mr. Kramer didn't answer the phone when I called his room. If you would like, I can have security check his room."

"I would appreciate it. It is not like him to miss a meeting with a client."

"I'll get someone to check and I'll call you back. How can I reach you?"

"I can call you back in a couple hours, if that would be alright."

"Sure. I'll have security check it out."

On the Wednesday after Labor Day, Micah began work on his last project before heading back south for the rest of the year.

Jim Lewis called the Santa Fe Police Department at 3 PM Santa Fe time on Wednesday, September 11, 2002 to report Bart missing.

On the following Monday, September 16, Sydney Winslow received a large padded envelope from Bart in the morning mail. It was post marked in New Mexico. Inside the envelope he found a single sheet of paper and another slightly smaller brown envelope. Syd had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he saw the inner envelope was addressed to William Littleton. He unfolded the piece of paper and began to read.

Dear Syd,

I hope that by the time you receive this package, I have returned to New York and we can have a good laugh at my paranoia. Tuesday when I returned to work, I was assigned a new project in Santa Fe, New Mexico. It's probably just me, but I am having a really bad feeling about this whole situation. I had never heard of this project before today. If everything is on the up and up, I will be back home by mid morning on Thursday. I'll call you and give you the heads up about a package you will be receiving from a crazy man.

If, on the other hand, you haven't heard from me before you receive this message, I would like for you to contact the authorities in Santa Fe to look for me. I am to meet with a Clayton Jackson in Glorieta on Wednesday morning. Without being overly melodramatic, I would like to say that in the event of my death, please forward the envelope in your package to Bill Littleton so he can get it to Callie.

Thanks for everything.

Bart

Syd put down the piece of paper and looked back inside the envelope. He pulled out the smaller envelope and discovered yet another envelope. This one was also addressed to William Littleton, but it also had a sticky note attached. The sticky note said, "Mail this envelope and save the other one for any official inquiry in the event of my death."

"Bart, what have you done?" He picked up his cell phone and dialed Bart's cell number. The call went directly to voicemail. "Hey man. I thought you were going to call me when you got back to town. Why haven't you called? We need to talk." He ended the call and dialed Bart's office number. That call also went to voicemail. Given what he knew about Bart's work situation, he didn't leave a message.

His next call was to Trent Maddox.

"Trent Maddox."

"This is Sydney Winslow. I'm Bart Kramer's attorney."

"Okay."

"I'm representing him in his divorce."

"Oh, I see."

"I received a letter from him this morning that has me concerned. He said he would be back from a business trip last Thursday and to my knowledge he has not returned from Santa Fe. He suggested that if I haven't heard from him by the time I received his letter I should contact the authorities out there. He said he would be meeting with a Clayton Jackson in Glorieta on Wednesday morning."

"Thank you for your call. I'll check into it."

His conversation with the FBI left him less than satisfied so he decided one more call was in order. He looked up the main number for Fincher Fowler & Pratt. He wondered how the firm was reacting to Bart's disappearance so he dialed the number.

"Fincher Fowler & Pratt. How may I direct your call?"

"Bart Kramer please."

"Mr. Kramer is out of the office. May I connect you to his voicemail?"

"Sure."

As the recording of Bart's instructions to leave a message played, Syd hung up the phone. "So much for that idea."

On Monday afternoon, Sam Waters stuck his head into Trent Maddox's office door. "We may have a problem."

"What have you got?"

"Here's what I've pieced together so far. It looks like our boy slipped past our surveillance team and flew to Santa Fe on Tuesday afternoon. He was booked on a return flight Thursday, but was a no show."

"That goes right along with what his lawyer told me this morning about his return."

"He checked into his hotel on Tuesday afternoon. He asked for directions to the Post Office on Tuesday evening. He was seen walking out of the hotel lobby at about 7:40 Wednesday morning and no one has seen him since."

"Again, that agrees with his lawyer's information. Do you think he has bolted?"

"Not really. If his wife was not in the process of divorcing him I might think they could have something in the works. We both met her. I believe there is something going on between her and the guy that she is staying with. I don't believe Bart Kramer could count on her to hide him. No, given the past history of Fincher Fowler & Pratt, it doesn't look good for Bart Kramer. Let's check with the Santa Fe PD and the Sheriff's Department and see if anyone has reported him missing."

"I'm on it."

In Montana it was obvious to Callie when she stepped outside the RV that fall was coming. The morning was not cold, but there was a certain crispness to it. She was returning to the camper from taking out the trash when her phone began to ring. She looked at the screen and saw that it was Bill Littleton's cell number.

"Hi, Bill."

"Good morning Callie. How are things in Idaho?"

"Actually, we are in Montana now."

"Oh my, you guys get around. Listen, the reason I called. I got a call from Syd Winslow this morning."

"What does Bart Kramer want now?"

"Callie, he's missing. Syd asked me to ask you if you have heard from him. I told him that as far as I knew, he didn't have your number."

"That's right, he doesn't, but to answer his question, I haven't heard from him. What does he think has happened?"

"He didn't say. He was expecting Bart back on Thursday morning from a business trip and he hasn't heard from him."

"That's great. He calls and says Bart is missing, but then he doesn't really tell us anything."

"That's about the size of it. I told Syd I would call him back after I talked to you. The good news is that he didn't mention anything about your response to the items brought up in the call."

"I guess that is something."

"I hope I haven't ruined your day."

"Oh, you haven't. I hope he is alright, but my concern is only as I would be for anyone that is missing." She stopped for a few seconds and rethought her words. "That's not true. Bart and I had some good times together. It's too bad the good times didn't last. I really hope he is okay."

"If I hear anything, I'll call you."

"I don't think there is any way he could know my number, but if I hear from him, I'll call you."

When they finished the dinner dishes, Micah asked, "What is bothering you? You haven't been yourself tonight."

"I got a call from Bill Littleton this morning. Bart's lawyer called him and asked if Bart had been in touch with me. He said Bart didn't return from a business trip as he was expected. I suppose that has me a little concerned."

"You guys are married. It's not unreasonable that you would have concerns for him even though you don't want to be married to him."

On September 18, Sam and Trent were drinking coffee. "Is there any more news on Bart Kramer?"

"There are some inconsistencies turning up."

"Such as?"

"According to Jim Lewis, Bart was going to Santa Fe to see a customer named Ron Chase."

"That doesn't match the information we got from Syd Winslow."

"I know. I talked to the police in Santa Fe. This Ron Chase is a client of Fletcher, Fowler and Pratt. I made contact with Chase. He has been a client for over ten years. He said Bart was coming to advise him on some real estate acquisition strategies. When Kramer didn't show up for their 8:30 meeting, on Wednesday, Chase contacted Bart's office. Next, he called the hotel and finally the Police Department."

"What about Clayton Jackson?"

"Neither the Santa Fe Police or the Sheriff's Department have ever heard of Clayton Jackson."

With a light jacket, the weather was still warm enough to play golf, but when the big three met again on September 20, at Three Hills, it wasn't just for golf. Anson Fincher, Blake Fowler and Elliot Pratt impatiently waited at the cart barn for Jim Lewis to arrive. Blake had finished sweeping all the carts for bugs by the time he arrived. He quickly scanned Jim's golf bag, then they loaded the carts and headed to the first tee. When they approached the tee box on the first hole, Elliot asked, "What is the status of Bart Kramer?"

Although they were seemingly alone on the golf course, Jim looked around again to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. "From what we have been able to learn, Bart Kramer has been channeling information to the feds."

"How long has it been going on?"

"I don't know, exactly. We had been told that on 9-11 they lost most of the information and evidence they had collected. We were also told they had abandoned their investigation. Until the search warrant was served on Bart's basement storage room in July, I wasn't aware of any investigation. On the morning the warrant was served I talked to him and at the time I believed that he knew nothing about it. As a precaution, I had his apartment bugged."

"Didn't you do that before?"

"Yes, but after his wife died he did a pretty extensive remodel of his apartment. In the process, we lost our bugs."

"Have we heard anything?"

"No, not really. The problem is that we don't have the ability to watch and listen to him every minute. I've tried to introduce some listening devices into his personal environment but he hasn't adopted them. I gave him an expensive ink pen one time and a daily planner, but they are in his office on a shelf. He had been spending a great deal of time since the completion of the Denver project in the files. I definitely suspect that he has been giving them information but there never was anything that I could prove. It isn't new. After a while, some guys get a conscience. They do what they feel they have to do and we do what we have to do. The firm has to be protected."

"I see." Elliot said.

Blake Fowler now had a question. "What was he working on in Santa Fe?"

Anson Fincher said, "I sent him to Santa Fe to meet with Ron Chase. Ron is going to be involved in some real estate acquisitions."

Elliot Pratt asked, "What is our official position?"

Jim Lewis spoke up. "We are concerned about the disappearance of our colleague Bart Kramer. He has been distraught in the months since the death of his wife in the World Trade Center bombing of September 11. We are closely following the efforts of the authorities in New Mexico to locate him."

Micah's projects in Idaho and Montana wrapped up in early November. He and Callie made their way back to Seagrove Beach by the middle of the month to get ready for Thanksgiving. In the days just before the holiday they spent their time walking on the beach, watching the waves and relaxing in the condo. Life was good at the beach, but they both knew there were still unresolved issues. Micah still had one more small project in Louisiana scheduled before the end of the year. After it was completed, he planned to return home for a few days. Before Callie came back into his life, he would have driven from Louisiana to Arizona. His motivation for going back to Florida was to try to convince her to go with him. He had asked her several times to go to visit his parents over the Christmas holidays since last year, but so far she had not agreed. She felt like it would be betraying a commitment, as long as she and Bart were still married.

Chapter 36

On November 20th, a hunter discovered a partially decomposed body in a remote area of the Santa Fe National Forrest, approximately eighty miles from Santa Fe. ID found on the victim's body identified him as Coffey Barton Kramer. The Sheriff's Department responded to the call, but since the body was found in the National Forest, the FBI was notified. The local office had been notified of Kramer's disappearance so Trent Maddox received a call shortly. The task of notifying Kramer's next of kin fell to him.

Trent dialed Callie's cell phone. Her phone began to ring just as she was trying to convince Micah that he should accompany her on her Black Friday shopping expedition.

He smiled. "Saved by the bell."

On the third ring, she answered the call. "Hello."

"Is this Callie Kramer?"

"Yes it is."

"Ms. Kramer, this is FBI Special Agent Trent Maddox."

She smiled. "Hello, Agent Maddox. How are you doing today?"

"I'm doing fine, thank you. Mrs. Kramer, it is my unpleasant duty to tell you that your husband's body has been found by a hunter in the Santa Fe National Forest, near Santa Fe, New Mexico."

Micah noticed the change in her facial expression and rushed to her side. "When?" she asked.

"It was late yesterday afternoon."

"What happened to him?"

"It's not clear yet. There will be an investigation and an autopsy to make that determination. Right now I don't know."

"How long will it take?"

"I don't know about the investigation. The autopsy itself will only take a few hours, but I don't know when it will happen. After it has been completed, the body will be released and you will be able to make the final arrangements. If you wish, someone can call you just before the body is due to be released."

"I would appreciate that." She didn't know what else to say.

"Mrs. Kramer, I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you. It's Callie, remember?"

"Yes, Callie, I remember. I know that now is not the appropriate time, but I'm going to need to talk to you at some point."

"Oh sure, I understand, but can we wait until after Thanksgiving?"

"I don't see a problem with that. I'll be in touch in a few days. If I can be of assistance, I believe you have my number."

"I do. Thanks."

"I am sorry about your loss. Goodbye."

"Goodbye." Callie ended the call and burst into tears. Through her tears she relayed the information to Micah. He held her as she cried.

Eventually the tears subsided and Micah handed her a tissue. "Thank you. I don't even understand why I'm crying."

"It's perfectly understandable. You guys were married for a long time. You wanted a divorce but you didn't wish him any harm. It is understandable for you to be affected by this."

"I'm sorry, Micah."

"Don't be. It's okay."

Agent Maddox next called Sydney Winslow.

"This is FBI Special Agent Trent Maddox for Sydney Winslow."

In a few seconds Syd came on the line. "Agent Maddox, have you heard anything?"

"Actually I have, but it's not good. Yesterday, hunters found a body about eighty miles from Santa Fe. It has been identified as Bart Kramer."

"The information I received from Bart included a letter to be sent to Bill Littleton, in the event of his death."

"We are going to want to see it."

"I figured as much. Do you want to come by and pick it up?"

"There will be someone at your office within the hour."

The call ended and Syd walked to the mailroom to get a padded mailer. He returned to his desk and wrote a note on a piece of the firm stationary and put it into the envelope. He pulled open his desk drawer and looked at the two identically addressed envelopes. He addressed the mailer with the same address and slid the envelope with the sticky note into it, minus the sticky note. He slipped the mailer into a notebook and walked to a letter box two blocks from the office. He dropped the mailer into the box. "Bart, I hope you know what you're doing, buddy." He noticed he had stuck the sticky note on the outside of the notebook. He wadded up the note and dropped it into the next trash can he passed.

After examining the letter to Bill Littleton that Bart intended for the FBI to see, they got a warrant to obtain surveillance video data from the Kramer's security system in their apartment. While on site, they substituted a recorder with a transmitter for Bart's recorder.

It was a tough couple of days for Callie as she struggled to come to terms with Bart's death and the related issues she knew she was going to have to face. Micah also struggled to know how to offer Callie his support. They met with Bill Littleton on Friday to get his advice, given her situation.

Once Jim Lewis saw news accounts of the discovery of Bart Kramer's body in New Mexico, he called Anson Fincher. Fincher organized a golf outing at Three Hills for the following afternoon.

On the first tee, Fincher said, "Boys, Jim has some good news."

He nodded at Jim and he began. "As you know, we were aware that the FBI has been poking around again. After asking around, I was able to learn that they had a source on the inside. I can tell you now, with confidence, that they have lost their source."

The three began to smile. Blake Fowler grinned. "I heard that Bart Kramer's body was discovered in New Mexico."

Anson Fincher chuckled. "I heard that too."

Elliot Pratt asked sarcastically, "Do they know what happened to him?"

Jim let them bask in their collective relief. "We got the idea he was unhappy several months ago, then his wife died on 9-11. I think that must have pushed him over the edge."

Anson Fincher looked at Jim with a questioning look. "What about his apartment? Should we be concerned?"

"It will be sanitized soon, but you don't need to be concerned. I will take care of it personally."

On Monday morning, November 25, an envelope arrived in the mail for Bill Littleton. He opened it and read the following.

Bill,

Bart asked me to send this to you for Callie in the event of his death. I got a call from the FBI a few minutes ago. I'm sure you will be aware of his death by the time you receive this. I received the enclosed envelope to send to you on September 16th.

Sydney Winslow

Bill opened the next envelope to find a note from Bart.

To: William Littleton

Since you are reading this letter, you no doubt know that I am dead. Enclosed is a private letter to my wife. I ask that you forward it to her. She will thank you later.

I will thank you now.

Thanks,

Bart Kramer

After a few days, the initial shock of Bart's death began to fade. Micah and Callie were standing at the balcony railing enjoying a cup of coffee in the bright morning sunshine, looking out over the deserted beach. She slowly inched over beside him and hip bumped him.

He turned to her and smiled a questioning smile. "What was that for?"

She flashed her million dollar smile and said, "You never answered my question about going shopping with me on Friday morning."

"You're right, I haven't."

"Well, how about it?" About that time her phone began to ring.

He grinned and pointed to her phone on the table top that danced from the vibration accompanying every ring. "You should probably answer the phone."

She grinned. "This isn't over." She playfully slapped at his shoulder as she walked past him to pick it up. She looked at the display and said, "It's Bill Littleton." She put it to her ear. "Hello, Bill."

"Good morning, Callie. How's it going?"

"It's starting to be a little better."

"I got a letter from Bart's attorney this morning and I would like for you to take a look at it. When can you come in?"

"Can you hold on just a second?"

"Sure."

She pressed the mute button. "Bill wants me to look at a letter from Bart's attorney. Can you come with me?"

"Of course. When do you want to go?"

"As soon as we can get ready. Maybe in an hour."

"Okay."

She smiled and pressed the mute button. "We can be there in about an hour."

"So, Micah will be coming too?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'll see you in an hour."

"Bye," she said and ended the call. "I wonder what that is all about?"

"I'm sure I don't know. I guess that is why he wants you to come in."

"Smartie. I'll bet I can get ready before you can."

"You're on."

"What are the stakes?"

"Winner decides."

"That sounds interesting."

A little over an hour later, Willow ushered them into the conference room. Bill was seated at the table. On the table in front of him was an envelope. It had been opened.

"Please have a seat."

They sat as Bill began to tell them about the letter. "As I said, I got a letter from Bart's attorney. He included a note that Bart had asked him to forward a letter to me to forward to you. Bart's letter asked me to forward this to you." He proceeded to pull another envelope from the one on the table.

Callie used the letter opener that Bill offered to open the envelope and began to read to herself. As she read, tears began to well up in her eyes. As she read on, tears began to freely run down her cheeks.

Dear Callie,

If you are reading this letter, you know I am dead. Tonight, as I write, I'm scared. Jim Lewis told me yesterday that the FBI investigation was back on. There must be a new leak. I have a new project and I flew to Santa Fe this morning. I have a bad feeling about it.

I am so sorry that I let you down as a husband. I really do love you. I am sorry that I let the wrong things become important, instead of you.

I want you to have a little something. You need to pay a visit to the self storage company that's closest to the apartment. The unit is 309. If you remember the song I told you to remember, you know the combination. I would do this sooner rather than later.

Know that I loved you to the very end.

Bart

After she finished reading the letter she wiped her eyes and put the paper down.

Bill waited for a few seconds. "What do you think?"

"I don't know what to make of it." She slid the letter over to Micah.

"This may not be a good time to mention it, but I feel I must. Even though you have filed for divorce, you were still married when Bart died. With that said, without a will to the contrary you now own all the marital assets."

"I've been thinking about that. I'm not sure I even want to go back. Do you think there is someone I could hire to sell all our stuff and then arrange to terminate the lease and sell the car?"

Bill answered. "I'm sure there is. Bart's attorney might be a good place to start. He might be able to recommend someone to help you."

Micah reached over and took Callie's hand. "Are you sure you don't want to at least check out your apartment and make sure there aren't some things you would like to have."

"I don't know. Maybe. I'll have to think about it."

"If I can help, just let me know. I don't mean to rush you off, but I've got to get home to get ready for guests that are coming in tonight."

When they got back to the condo, the subject of shopping never came back up that afternoon. Callie seemed distant. During the night, Micah woke up with an idea. He managed to go back to sleep, but jumped out of bed at six o'clock on Tuesday morning and made coffee. He poured two mugs and walked to Callie's door and knocked.

After the second knock, he heard a sleepy voice on the other side of the door. "Come in."

As he walked into her room, she sat up in bed and slid back to the headboard while pulling the covers up to her chin.

"How about a cup of coffee?"

"Sure. What time is it?"

"It's a few minutes after six o'clock."

"Are you practicing for Black Friday?"

"About that, I've got an idea that I wanted to run past you."

"Okay."

"You know, my next job in Louisiana is set to start on Wednesday after Thanksgiving."

"Yes."

"Well, we really don't have any set plans for Thanksgiving."

"Okay." She forced a smile. He could tell she was still affected by the letter. "You obviously have something in mind."

"I do. Let's pack our bags, throw them in the VW and take a road trip to New York."

She blinked her eyes several times before speaking. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, I am."

"Since you brought it up, I've been giving some thought to Bart's letter, too. There are a couple things that have bothered me all night. He said he wanted me to have a little something. Back in August, before I left, he had implied that he had something put away. I don't know anything about a storage unit, but that is probably where he moved those diskettes they didn't find in the basement storage."

"The last sentence about checking on it sooner rather than later makes me think it would probably be better for you to get up there as soon as possible."

"You could be right. I'm sure there are a few things around the apartment that would be nice to have too."

"While we are there, you could arrange to get rid of everything you don't want."

"You've got a point, but I think maybe we should take your truck instead of the VW."

Micah laughed. "We certainly don't want to limit how much stuff you can bring home."

Callie's eyes shot up to Micah in surprise. She had to wonder if he realized and meant what he said. She couldn't trust her voice to question his remark so she let it pass. "Get out of here while I get dressed. I'll be packed and ready to go in thirty minutes."

Forty-five minutes later, Micah and Callie left Seagrove Beach for a long, two day drive to the Big Apple.

Wednesday morning at the FBI office, an analyst reviewed the previous twenty-four hours of surveillance video from Bart Kramer's apartment. It was a tedious job that Trent Maddox was glad fell to someone else. After several days of nothing, this morning the video clearly showed someone ransacking the apartment. The last bit of video transmitted showed him finding the recorder under the drawer in the kitchen. The intruder was identified as Jim Lewis.

Trent and Sam watched the portion of video showing Jim Lewis in the apartment for the third or fourth time. "Tell me Sam, what is he looking for?"

"I don't know for sure, but it might be the computer we took the other day."

"He clearly wasn't happy to find the recorder."

"What are we going to do?"

"We don't know what he did after he found the recorder, but we need to check it out. We need to get someone to swing by there and make sure the crime scene is secure and no one else can get in and mess things up further."

Sam looked at his watch. "It's too late to get anything done before Monday, but we'll need to get someone in there on Monday to get the surveillance system going again."

Trent said, "I'll run over there on my lunch break and make sure everything is locked up."

Chapter 37

Early Wednesday afternoon, Micah and Callie arrived in New York City. Following her directions, he easily drove to her apartment in Brooklyn.

When they stopped she looked across the cab and smiled. "Here we are."

"Are you ready?"

"I think so. Let's go." She opened the door and stepped out of the truck. He joined her on the sidewalk. It was the day before Thanksgiving and there was no one in the lobby. She led him to the elevator and they rode to the fourth floor. Standing outside the apartment door, she took a fortifying breath and inserted the key into the lock. It would not turn. After only a second of confusion, she said, "I'll bet he had the locks changed. I'll go downstairs and see if I can get a key at the office. I'm sure Jayne will have one."

"I'll wait for you up here. There will be fewer questions if I'm not around."

"Good point. I'll be right back."

She went downstairs to the building office. Jayne looked up from her desk and saw Callie. She stood and almost ran to the counter. "Callie Kramer, it is so good to see you."

"Hello Jayne."

"I really don't know what to say."

"That's alright. It's like Mark Twain said, reports of my death were highly exaggerated."

She smiled. "I know that's right." There was a short pause as Jayne thought maybe she shouldn't be smiling. The smile faded and she said, "I am so sorry about Bart. I heard his body was found a few days ago in New Mexico. That is so awful."

Callie nodded her agreement. "It is. Do you know if Bart had the locks changed on the apartment? My key isn't working."

Jayne seemed to be glad to get back to a more business focused conversation. "He did. He was working with a designer to do some redecorating. The designer told me he had some security concerns and wanted the locks changed. I contacted our locksmith and had the locks re-keyed. I have one of the new keys in the key cabinet. I'll get it for you."

Jayne turned and walked to a key cabinet behind the counter. She returned a few seconds later with a key with a paper string label that said "4B". She held out the key. "Are you back now?"

Callie gave a noncommittal shrug. "I'm here for a little while but I'm not sure what I'm going to do in the long term."

"You can get a new key cut at the locksmith just around the corner." She looked at the clock on the wall. "It will probably be Friday before they will be open, but you probably won't need it. More than likely Bart left another key in the apartment."

"Maybe so." She took the key and turned toward the door.

"I'll need that key back as soon as you can."

Callie stopped and turned around. Jayne continued, "If you need anything else, I'll be here until 4 o'clock this afternoon, but we will be closed tomorrow and Friday. If you don't find me when you're finished with the key, you can put it in an envelope and drop it in the mail slot. I'll get it."

"Thanks." Callie rushed back upstairs to find Micah sitting in the floor, leaning against her front door. "Hello, Handsome."

"Right back at you, Sweet Girl," he said as he rose to his feet.

She held up the key. "He had the locks changed, but she had a copy. Let's see what we've got." She slid the key into the lock. This time the key turned. She turned to Micah. "I can't vouch for what kind of shape this place is going to be in. Bart has never been the best of housekeepers." She pushed the door open and led Micah inside. "Oh, my, gosh."

"Don't touch anything, we need to call the police," Micah said. "Let's wait outside." He took her by the hand and led her into the hallway.

Micah called the police to report the break in. When they arrived twenty minutes later, they were accompanied by Jayne Johnson. The two officers asked them to wait outside while they went inside to check things out. While they waited, Callie introduced Micah and Jayne.

After a few minutes, the police officers stepped back into the hallway. "You've got quite a mess in there, but it's clear. You'll need to put together a list of things that are missing to give to your insurance company. It looks more like someone was searching for something. It looks like a computer might be missing back in one of the bedrooms, but it doesn't look like any other electronics are missing. You can pick up a copy of our report at the station on Monday." The officers seemed to be in a hurry and were soon on their way to the next call.

Micah, Callie and Jayne stepped into the apartment. "Oh, my." Jayne said, as soon as she walked in. "This is terrible."

"Yes, it's pretty bad." Callie looked around the room, but didn't walk into it further. "I guess I'm in shock. I don't know what to do." The three of them stood gazing at the mess made in the three rooms they could see. Jayne was curious about the condition of the rest of the apartment, but after a few minutes when it became obvious that Callie was not going to invite her further into the apartment, she made her excuses and left them alone.

When the door closed, Callie turned to Micah. "What in the world is going on?" He held open his arms and she walked into his hug. Up until this moment, she had held her emotions in check. Safely wrapped in his arms, she let down her guard and began to cry. Micah led her to the couch in the living room. He picked up the cushions from the floor and put them where they belonged. He pulled her down to the couch. In a few minutes, she pulled away from him and started wiping her eyes. "Why would someone do this?"

"You know, Bart said he was afraid for his life. You heard the police officer said it looked like someone was looking for something."

She nodded her head in agreement. He continued. "I really don't think it's safe to stay here tonight like we had planned. I suggest you look through your things, get what you want and then we'll get out of here."

"You're probably right. What time is it?"

"It's a little after four. Why?"

"Let's lock up and go check out the storage unit. They might be closed tomorrow. I'm thinking I don't want to stay here any longer than we have to."

"We aren't staying here at all. We are going to get a hotel tonight."

"I mean not staying in town any longer than we have to. After this, I have no intention of spending another night in this city."

"Good. Do you want to at least take a quick look around?"

"No. Let's go see what Bart's letter was talking about."

Callie had a strange feeling when she walked into the storage facility. She didn't stop at the front desk for directions. Micah followed her down a hallway. Presently, she stopped in front of one of the units. She pointed to the door. "This was my unit."

"Really, and you didn't know Bart had one too?"

"I had no idea. Let's go. I think the one we are looking for is down this other hallway." In a minute, she stopped in front of unit 309. "This is it."

"Okay. I see it has a combination lock. Do you know the combination?"

"I think so. Let me see." She began to turn the numbers on the lock. The first digit she set was eight. She turned the next dial to six. The third dial she set to seven. The final digit was set to five. She looked to Micah and tugged on the shackle. It slid open and she smiled.

She removed the lock from the door and pulled it up. The unit appeared to be ten by ten feet. There wasn't much in the locker. Along the back wall was an old four drawer chest of drawers. It was in pretty rough shape. Beside the chest was a matching dresser. There was what looked like an antique radio along the left wall. There was a ladder back rocking chair and a floor lamp to round out the furniture and accessories. There were three open boxes that appeared to be full of old clothes and five clear plastic totes that she could see obviously contained trading cards.

She turned to Micah. "What do you think?"

"From the letter, he obviously felt he left something of value here for you. Do you want any of this stuff?"

"I don't think I want the furniture, but I want to look it over carefully before I rule it out." She walked to the chest and began pulling drawers open. Micah did the same with the dresser. All the drawers were empty except the top drawer of the dresser.

"Look here."

She stepped over to the dresser. "So that's what he did with them." She thought about taking them, then changed her mind.

"What do you want to do with them?"

"I'm not sure. Let's just set them aside for now. Let's pull out the drawers and make sure there is nothing hidden inside the pieces and there are no false bottoms and things like that."

In a few minutes they were satisfied that the dresser and chest were just old pieces of furniture. The antique radio proved to be just that as well. The rocker held no secrets and neither did the lamp. They next turned their attention to the three boxes of clothes. Micah picked up the first box and shook it. It made no noise. "What do you want me to do?"

"I'm fine if you want to dump it out."

He turned the first box on its side and carefully scattered the contents on the floor. They proceeded to check the pile of what appeared to be thrift store clothes for hidden treasure and found none. When they were satisfied all the pockets were empty, they put the clothes back in the box. They repeated the procedure with the other two boxes, with identical results. They then turned their attention to the plastic totes with the baseball cards. Micah picked up the five clear plastic boxes and set them on the dresser. Each box was about twenty-four inches long by sixteen inches wide and ten inches deep. They each held hundreds of trading cards. Micah pulled the lid off the first box. "So, Bart liked baseball trading cards?"

"Oh, don't get me started. The weekend of our class reunion, I arranged for him to have a baseball weekend in Denver. The only thing he ever said to me about the trip was that he got some new baseball cards."

"Do you think maybe he bought some valuable cards and planned to sell them later?"

"I don't know. Let's take a quick look. Do you know anything about trading cards?"

"Not really. I know that rookie cards for players that become stars are pretty valuable."

Micah picked up a card from the box he had opened and looked it over. Callie pulled the lid off another tote. She picked up a box of unopened cards and found something interesting under it. She held it up, smiling, and asked. "What do you know about Benjamin Franklin cards?"

He turned around to face her and saw a packet of hundred dollar bills in her hand. His face immediately registered concern. "I think we probably need to close the door. Does that light work?"

Callie reached for the light switch as he began to pull down the door.

"What have you found?"

"Something much better than trading cards."

"I'll say. How much is there?"

"I don't know. It looks like he put a layer of cards on the bottom of the container and around the sides. Then he filled the middle with cash and then put another layer of cards on top. Unless you look inside it just looks like a box of playing cards. Do you have anything besides cards in your box?"

He turned to his box and began to remove cards. It wasn't long before he said, "Bingo." There were more packets of cash in the second tote, too. There were packets of bills in each of the three remaining totes. When they looked closer, they found a slip of paper under each of the caches of bills. The counter deposit slips from Manhattan Trust had the amount filled in as if it were ready to deposit. According to the deposit slips, there was just over $500,000 in cash, in the five boxes.

"I suppose we should count it, but that can wait for another day."

"What are we going to do?" Micah asked.

"As someone with a fair amount of experience transporting large sums of cash, I expect we will be nervous until we get it away from here and someplace safe."

"What do you want to do?"

"First we close up all the boxes. Then I suggest we load these five boxes into your truck, put the lock back on the door of this unit and pretend we were never here. Then I would like to take a quick look around the apartment, gather up some of my clothes and anything else I want to take with me and get out of the city. I can contact Jayne to arrange to have all the rest of the stuff removed from the apartment later."

"That works for me. Let's get going. Wait, what about the diskettes?" Micah pulled the drawer open.

"Leave them. Eventually the FBI will discover this place. They might as well get something for their trouble."

They both laughed nervously as Callie pushed the drawer in. they each picked up a stack of totes. When Micah turned around, he spotted something on the back side of the roll up door. "What's that?"

Callie set down her totes and walked to the door. "It's an envelope with my name on it." She carefully pulled it from the door and looked inside. It was another note. She took a deep breath and sat down in the rocking chair to read it.

Callie,

You remembered the song! That is good. I had hoped to show you this storage unit one day when you and I were ready to make a fresh start. If you are here without me, I guess it didn't work out that way. FYI, There is no longer any information about our bank accounts or insurance policies at the apartment. On the next page you will find the account numbers for all our bank accounts. Your name is on all the US accounts. Your name is on an account at Manhattan Trust, but you probably didn't know about it. I have included the logins and passwords for all the accounts and listed the bank web sites. There is one numbered off shore account listed along with all the access codes. Our life insurance information is also listed.

I know you never had any interest in my baseball card collection, but maybe now you will change your mind. Be wary of Fincher Fowler & Pratt. They are not to be trusted. They can and will hurt you.

This unit is prepaid through April 2022, but I would go ahead and move the card collection as soon as possible and get out of town.

I'm so sorry things turned out so badly. Maybe this will make it a little easier for you to start over.

Your loving husband,

Bart

On the short drive back to the apartment, Callie didn't say anything. Micah wasn't surprised. It had to have been a shock. Micah remembered something Callie had said earlier about a car. "What are you going to do with your car?"

"I don't know. Bart rented a parking spot in a garage about a block from the apartment. I've got a key for it on this key chain. We can stop and check on it."

When they got to the parking garage, Micah parked on the street and then accompanied Callie inside. When they got to the parking spot, the car was not there. "I wonder where it is? Oh, I know, he probably drove it to the airport before he flew to Santa Fe."

Micah laughed. "If he left it in short term parking, it was probably towed to the police impound lot after a certain number of days. After two months in impound, it may not be worth as much as the impound fees."

They returned to the truck and drove on to the apartment. When they got there, she began to gather up the things she wanted to take and stacked them on the kitchen table. When she finished, Micah packed everything into four pillow cases he found in the linen closet.

She asked, "Do we have enough room to take all my clothes?"

"Of course we do."

By six thirty they had everything loaded into the back seat of the pickup, effectively hiding the cash. When they were ready to leave, she wrote a note for Jayne. She slipped it and the key into an envelope and dropped it into the mail slot on their way out of the building. In a matter of minutes, they were on their way back to Florida. They stopped, a few miles out of the city for dinner.

They ate their meal mostly in silence. He knew that the past few days had been extremely stressful for Callie. One time, she looked up and found Micah staring at her. "You've got something on your mind. Spill it."

"It's been tough for you the last few days, but there are some things that you are going to need to do."

"Such as?"

"You are going to need to talk to your banks. You can update your address and get new checks or a debit card to access the funds in the accounts."

"Can I do that sort of thing on line or over the phone?"

"Maybe so. You can probably file for the life insurance back home. You'll have to have a death certificate from New Mexico."

She looked at him and shook her head. "I am just exhausted. Let's find a room for the night."

They drove until around nine o'clock. They stopped to sleep for a few hours at a motel just south of Philadelphia. They got up early on Thanksgiving Day and drove all day to get to Seagrove Beach and the condo, a little after midnight on Friday morning.

They went to bed and Micah woke up a few minutes after nine o'clock. He made a pot of coffee and poured two mugs. In what seemed like a very familiar situation, he knocked on Callie's door. There was no answer and he turned to return to the kitchen when he heard a faint rustle of covers followed by a less than enthusiastic, "Come in."

"What happened to shopping on Black Friday?"

"When I went to bed last night it just didn't seem as important as I thought it was on Monday."

"Isn't it funny how a few days can change all your priorities?"

"I'll say. Thank you so much for going to New York with me."

"You are very welcome. What are friends for?"

"You have been so much more than just a friend. I don't know how I can ever thank you properly."

"No thanks are necessary. I'm just glad I could do it. So, now that you are a free woman, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. The problem is I really don't feel free yet. There are still so many loose ends that have to be tied up. I'm going to need to arrange to have someone clean out the apartment and I need to find out about Bart's car."

"I'm sure you will eventually get everything worked out."

"I think I will contact Bart's family and leave his final arrangements to them."

"That is probably a good idea."

"Then, on top of all that, there is all the money. There is the cash and then all the money in our bank accounts. I have no idea what I'm going to do with it. At least part of it must be dirty."

"A storage unit worked for Bart. You've already got one that will no doubt hold five more little boxes. You could buy a safe and I could show you how to anchor it to a concrete floor."

"That's a good idea."

On Monday after Thanksgiving, Callie contacted all three of their New York banks. In each case, she was informed that the funds in the account had been frozen. She contacted a local representative for the company that had written their life insurance policies to find out what she would need to file a claim. Later in the day she called Santa Fe to request a copy of Bart's death certificate.

On Tuesday, FBI agents arrived at the Kramer's apartment in Brooklyn. Jayne was not at work and a maintenance man let them into the apartment to evaluate, repair or replace the surveillance system.

Once Bart was out of the picture, the partners at Fincher Fowler & Pratt relaxed. They were certain the current rumored investigation was history.

In the days following their return from New York, Callie filed a claim on Bart's Life Insurance Policy. When Micah had to travel to Louisiana for his next job, she decided to stay behind in Florida. At the conclusion of his Louisiana job, he returned home for a few days. He asked her again to go to Arizona for the Christmas holidays to visit his parents. She chose not to go. For Christmas, Micah gave her a subscription to Modern Photographer Magazine.

On January 22, 2003, Jim Lewis, the top three partners, two more partners and five associates from Fincher Fowler & Pratt and three clients were indicted on money laundering, racketeering and conspiracy charges. In the early hours of January 23rd, Jim Lewis was arrested at his home. Anson Fincher was picked up at the airport, waiting to board a flight to Rio with his carry on full of cash. Somehow he had been tipped off. Blake Fowler, Elliot Pratt, two junior partners and five associates were arrested at the office. Everyone else was told to go home. The office was closed and sealed. While agents were arresting Fincher and Pratt, another squad was securing and sealing the Fincher Fowler & Pratt Records warehouse. At the same time, three clients were being rounded up too.

During discovery, Fincher Fowler & Pratt came to the conclusion that the leak of information had to have come from Bart, as they had suspected. They were surprised to learn that he was in the middle of a divorce which meant Callie Kramer was alive and could possibly be a problem.

In February, the company that wrote Bart's life insurance policy officially refused to pay the claim on the grounds that his death was a suicide. She planned to ask Bill Littleton what sort of options were available to her to appeal their decision. In the months after they returned from New York, Callie struggled to decide on a direction for her future. The five months since Bart's body had been found had been difficult for her. She was technically a free woman, but she was still uncomfortable getting into a romantic relationship with Micah. So far, he had been patient. He knew she was dealing with a lot of issues.

Syd Winslow was able to arrange with someone to liquidate the contents of their apartment and was able to find and sell their car. She terminated the lease on their apartment in April and was relieved no longer have any ties to New York City.

In May, Micah had been on a job in North Platte, Nebraska, for a week. He had just finished cleaning up after dinner on Tuesday night when his phone rang. He looked at the display and smiled. "Hi, Callie."

"Hello, Mr. Marsh."

"So it's Mr. Marsh now?"

"I'm just messing with you. How are things going?"

"North Platte is about half finished. We have collected all the benchmark data and I have the draft of the modification plan completed."

"That's good."

"I'm going to present it to the Plant Manager tomorrow. If he gives me the go ahead, I'll start installing the modifications on Thursday. I hope we can get them all in place by Friday afternoon. Monday and Tuesday we'll monitor the water quality levels. If everything checks out like it should, I will be ready to hit the road for the next job, a week from this coming Wednesday or Thursday."

"It sounds like it is going well."

"It is. What have you been doing?"

"Well, I've been taking a few photographs and doing a lot of thinking."

"You have? What have you been thinking about?"

"I've been thinking that a change of scenery might be nice."

"Do you have anything in mind?"

"Maybe. What are you doing Saturday night?"

"I don't know. I've been working hard lately. I may just hang out at the RV."

"Do you know where McCook is?"

"McCook?"

"Yes, it's in Nebraska."

"No, I don't."

"It's about seventy miles almost due south of North Platte."

"Okay. Now that you've provided me with a Nebraska geography lesson, what does that have to do with Saturday?"

"I was thinking that if you don't have anything to do on Saturday night you could pick me up in McCook."

"What?"

"I've done some checking and I can catch a flight out of Destin on Saturday morning to Denver and then catch the California Zephyr from Denver arriving at McCook, NE at 11:49, Saturday night."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"You're really thinking about this?"

"Absolutely. Do you think you could pick me up?"

"That's a silly question. You know I will. I once drove over 1600 miles to pick you up and I hardly knew you then. I will absolutely pick you up Saturday night. You are talking about this coming Saturday night?"

"That's right."

"How long can you stay?"

She hesitated and Micah started to say something. "As long as you'll let me. I'm buying one way tickets."

"Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

"You know I'm probably going to be on the road all summer."

"I know."

"There will be times that the beach would be more fun."

"Not if you aren't at the beach."

"Well, if you are sure this is what you want to do, I'll be there to pick you up. I've missed you something awful."

"I've missed you too. That's what I want to do. So I'll see you Saturday night at 11:49 at the train station in McCook, NE."

"I can't wait."

"Good night, Loyal Prince."

"Good night, Sweet Girl."

Saturday morning, Micah work up early. He ate breakfast and gave the RV a thorough cleaning. He was going to have company and he was excited. He was tired of being alone on the road and more tired of being alone in life. It was time, at least he hoped it was time. In the afternoon he went to the grocery store and stocked up on food and supplies for the coming week. He dropped by the plant in the early afternoon to check the monitoring equipment to see how well his modifications were working. The mods had been installed for less than thirty-six hours, but they appeared to be working. He went back to the RV to look for things to do until it was time to leave for his midnight rendezvous. He took a walk and did some laundry. Around six he fixed a light meal and cleaned up after.

At ten o'clock he left the RV park for the 68 minute drive to McCook to meet Callie's train. He was way early. He rolled into the little town with nearly forty minutes to spare. He had an idea that Callie might be hungry after traveling all day so he stopped at a convenience store and bought some snacks and soft drinks. With that ten minute task out of the way, he couldn't think of anything else to do but wait so he drove to the Amtrak station. When he got there the parking lot was empty. He parked so he could watch for the east bound trains. He decided that not too many people traveled to McCook by train because at 11:30 he was still the only car in the parking lot. Around 11:40 he had a short conversation with a local police officer. The police officer had seen the pickup with Florida tags at the convenience store and now it was at the train station.

When he picked Callie up in Chicago at Union Station he had arranged to meet her in McDonald's, concerned that someone might notice if he met her on the platform with a big hug or something more. Tonight he didn't care who was there to see, he planned to give her a very warm welcome. The problem he saw this evening as he looked around the station was there was no traditional platform. He wasn't sure where the train would actually stop. It looked to Micah like the passengers would have to climb off the train to the ground and walk to the station building. About three minutes before the train was due, he saw a light in the distance. His heart began to race as the train got closer. When he saw the AmTrak locomotive he got out of his truck and walked toward the station. It wasn't obvious where the train would disperse passengers but he figured it would be close to the station door. When it slowly rolled to a stop, for the first long seconds there was no visible activity. Then he saw Callie descending the steps. She was the only passenger getting off the train in the little town that night. She stepped off the train with a backpack that held her camera equipment and a small duffel in her hand. In all, the train was stopped for less than two minutes. He didn't run, but he didn't let any grass grow under his feet getting to her. Once she saw him, she didn't either. It had been over four months since they had seen each other. When he reached her she dropped the duffel and they hugged. They shared a tender kiss. Then he picked up her duffel and they walked to the truck. Anyone seeing their reunion would have believed they were much more than just friends.

When they got in the truck, Micah asked, "How was your trip?"

"Long and tiring."

"Are you hungry?"

"A little bit. I'm mostly exhausted. I ate dinner in Denver before I got on the train. I left the condo at nine this morning."

"You're in luck. I stopped at a convenience store when I got to town and bought some of your favorites. They are in that bag in the back seat."

She looked in the back seat and then smiled at Micah. "I see you brought me a pillow. Is that something you just always do when you are picking up someone from the train?"

"Only for beautiful brunettes. I thought you might be tired. It's a little over an hour from here to North Platte. You can take a little nap if you want."

"You're too good to me."

He didn't reply to her comment. "I see you're traveling lite these days."

"Yes, but there better be two boxes arriving to your attention at the RV Park on Monday."

"Good idea. That's much easier than fighting with suitcases."

"That's what I thought."

Over the next five days they adjusted back to RV life together. Every morning Callie woke up and dressed before she climbed out of the forward bunk. Micah was careful to dress before leaving his bedroom in the back of the coach.

Their days and especially their nights were a little awkward again together at first. For four months they had lived alone and didn't have to be concerned about their appearance when they were at home. For the first few days it was like their first road trip from Chicago to Florida. They were super careful that they didn't send out the wrong signals to each other. After a few days it became a little more comfortable, like their first trip together to Vermont.

In June, they hit the road for his next project. They arrived in Green River, Utah, on June 16th. In Utah they became comfortable around each other again. They settled into a familiar pattern. During the week, he got up and went to the plant to work. Some days he took the truck and some days she dropped him off and hit the road in search of new places to photograph. A big difference was that now they were getting comfortable showing affection to one another. They weren't lovers but they loved each other. Accidental touches were no longer awkward and the purposeful touches were very enjoyable.

On their second Wednesday in Utah, Micah took the truck to the job site. Callie planned to work all day editing photographs she had taken over the previous weekend. She was sitting at the dining table, putting the final touches on a picture when her phone rang. She recognized the New York City area code. She answered the call. "Hello?"

A woman's voice asked, "Is this Callie Kramer?"

That was a strange question. If the woman had her number, she knew it was Callie's phone. Hesitantly, she replied, "It is."

"My name is Natalie Chism, I am an assistant US Attorney for the Southern District of New York. I am the lead prosecutor in the case against Fincher Fowler & Pratt. I'll get right to the point. There have been some developments in the case and your testimony is needed."

"I was told that wouldn't be necessary."

"Yes, I know, but the situation has changed and your testimony is needed to validate the authenticity and the chain of custody for the evidence you provided the FBI, last year."

"But they killed Bart."

"We don't know that for sure."

"I know that it is ridiculous to believe that he killed himself."

"Mrs. Kramer, it is imperative that we have your testimony. I could subpoena you."

Callie took a deep breath and then with a tone of capitulation, said, "What do you want me to do?"

"Will you testify?"

"That's what you want isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. So you will?"

"I don't see that I have much choice. I don't want to, but I'll do it."

"Great. You have made the right decision. Okay, where exactly are you?"

"Green River, Utah."

"Okay. I'll have our travel people look at the options available and be in touch with you. You will probably testify on Friday or Monday."

"As in the day after tomorrow, Friday?"

"Yes. You will need to plan on being available through the rest of the trial, so I would plan on being here from ten days to two weeks, maybe longer."

When Micah returned home from work, Callie was packing."What's up?" he asked, when he came in the door.

"The US Attorney called. I'm going to have to go to New York to testify."

"I thought they said you wouldn't have to."

"They did, but that was when Bart was alive."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Can you drive me to the airport in Grand Junction in the morning? There will be a ticket waiting for me."

"I suppose. I'll have to call and tell them I'm going to have to interrupt the project for a few days."

"No, I can't have you do that. I may be gone two weeks or more. Micah, this is something I have to do on my own."

"I can go with you."

"I appreciate the offer, but like I said, this is something I need to do on my own."

"I don't like it, but it's your call. How long will you be gone?"

"I told you, she said it could be two weeks or more."

"Yes, you did. I'm sorry. This is just all such a surprise. Wow, I hope I can get along without you for that long."

She smiled. "I'll be back before you know it."

They went to dinner and spent a quiet evening before going to bed early. When Micah woke up the next morning, Callie had coffee ready and was sitting in one of the recliners, packed and ready to go.

She smiled when he stepped out of the bedroom. "Good morning, Mr. Marsh."

He smiled. "Good morning yourself. Are you sure you don't want me to go with you? It's not too late."

"I'm sure. This is something I need to do on my own."

"I understand."

"I hope this finally closes out my mistake with Bart Kramer once and for all."

Micah smiled. "That would be good."

"I've been thinking."

"Oh, really? I'm glad."

She smiled. "I'm serious, Micah. I'm so tired of starting over. When I take a look back at my life, it seems that I'm always starting over again."

"I hope you can start over one more time," he smiled and raised his eyebrows, "with me."

She smiled and nodded. "Micah, we are already started."

Chapter 38

When the commuter plane landed at Grand Junction, there were five other people waiting to board.

"This is going to be fun," she said when they announced boarding.

She stood and started walking toward the gate. Micah walked along with her.

She turned and said, "Well, I guess this is it."

"Call me when you get there."

"I will. Thanks for driving me this morning."

"You're welcome."

"I better go now." She forced a brave smile.

He nodded to her. "Come here." He held out his arms and she walked into his embrace. They exchanged a quick kiss and she turned to leave. She took four or five steps toward the gate and stopped. She glanced back at him and smiled. He smiled back and gave her a thumbs up. She stared at him for several seconds like she was trying to make a decision. All at once she ran back to him and threw her arms around his neck. In seconds, they were locked in a smoldering goodbye kiss like none he had ever experienced.

"Wow!" he said, when they came up for air.

She smiled. "I just wanted to give you a preview of what you have to look forward to when I get back. Don't forget me."

"Count on it. I could never forget you."

She went on to board the plane and shortly Micah watched it take off and climb into the morning sky.

As her back pressed against the seat during take off she began to think about Micah. She had been so happy with him the past few months. He had been so patient. She had to ask herself what was stopping her from moving on and making a real life with him? She knew she loved him. Right then she made the decision that as soon as she got back from New York she was going to do her best to take their relationship to the next level. With the decision made, a sense of calm settled over her, in spite of the challenge she was about to face. In a few minutes she dropped off to sleep and slept until she felt the wheels touch the runway in Denver.

When she stepped into the terminal at DIA, there was someone waiting for her. "I'm surprised to see you here." She smiled and greeted Agent Maddox.

She expected a smile, but he seemed rather serious this morning. "Knowing how Fincher Fowler & Pratt operate, we decided it would be a good idea for you to have some security."

"I'm flattered."

"Let's go talk somewhere in private."

"Okay, but first I need to find the gate for my next flight."

"I've got the gate information. I'm on the same flight."

"You're kidding."

"No, I'm with you all the way to New Jersey."

"My ticket is to New York."

"It was, but it has been changed. I have your new boarding pass. We decided it would be better for you to not stay in Manhattan during the trial. The US Marshals are going to put you up and provide transportation to and from the court houseui. Come with me. I'll explain everything."

Warily she said, "Okay."

He took off at at a brisk pace. She had to hurry to keep up. After a couple minutes almost running, she asked, "What's the big hurry?"

"I can't explain right now, but I will answer all your questions as soon as I get you to a secure location."

Callie stopped and gazed at him in shock. He stopped, but only for a second. "You need to come with me, now. Come on."

Callie instantly got a bad feeling about agreeing to testify. She picked up her pace to keep up and let him guide her to the gate for her next flight, but instead of finding seats among the other passengers, he swiped a magnetic card through the reader on a door that was marked restricted. She followed him inside. He closed the door and locked a deadbolt.

"Would you please tell me what is going on?" she asked.

"We believe it his highly likely your husband's former law firm may have had something to do with his death."

"It is about time," she fumed.

"It was made to look like a suicide with his body found at the bottom of that overlook, but we know that you and he were having reconciliation discussions."

"I'll agree with saying we had a phone call, but there was never going to be a reconciliation."

"Yes, but they don't know that. When he was reported missing, their statement said he had been distraught over your death. We believe they were laying the ground work to explain the eventual discovery of his body at the bottom of that canyon. We don't believe his death was an accident."

"You don't?"

"No, but believing something and being able to prove it are sometimes a different matter."

"There is no doubt Fincher Fowler & Pratt now know you are alive and are scheduled to testify at the trial, so we want to keep you safe. That's why I'm here. You successfully hid from your husband for several months, but these guys are in a totally different league."

"What if I change my mind and don't want to testify?"

"Quite simply, without your testimony, they will go free, but you won't necessarily be safe."

"How so?"

"Without your testimony we may not be able to send them to prison, but they have already had to discontinue and dismantle the eight money laundering operations that Bart told us about. In their view, someone is responsible for their losses and unfortunately, you are the last person alive they can blame. We suspect there are other operations we don't know about and they may conclude that you know more than you have told us so far. I hadn't intended to bring this up until later, but Witness Protection is something you need to seriously consider. Like I said, we are concerned about your safety. The Marshals can keep you safe during the trial, but afterwards, your long term safety is a concern."

"I don't know what to say."

"It's a lot to take in. Just think about it."

In a few minutes, Maddox's cell phone rang. He answered the call and listened for a few seconds, then put his phone back in his pocket. "It's time for us to go." He stood and walked toward the door. He turned the deadbolt and motioned to Callie. She was already walking to the door. When they stepped back into the terminal she noticed all the other passengers were gone.

"Where is everyone?"

"They've already boarded. As soon as we're aboard, the plane will take off."

The gate agents checked their tickets and whisked them aboard the plane. As soon as they boarded, the door of the plane closed. Two minutes after they found their seats, the plane pushed back from the gate. She almost wished she was traveling alone, but not really. The presence of an armed FBI agent in the seat beside her was at the same time both comforting and troubling. What did they know that she didn't? She was quiet on the flight. There were countless questions flooding her mind as the jet sped toward New Jersey but there was nothing she wanted to talk about that she would want any of the other passengers to overhear.

When their flight reached Newark, they bypassed the baggage claim area. Agent Maddox seemed up tight and anxious as he led her out of the terminal. At the door, they were met by Agent Waters.

"How was you flight, Ms. Kramer?" he asked.

"It was okay. What about my bags."

"We have someone taking care of them for you. They will probably arrive at the safe house before we do."

Trent continued to scan the area for threats. "Everything has been routine."

"Come this way. We have a car waiting." Agent Waters led them to a black suburban parked close to the door. Sam opened the rear passenger door and Callie climbed inside. Trent followed her and Sam got in the front passenger seat. They pulled away from the curb and left the airport.

Callie looked around at the three tense, serious FBI agents. "You guys didn't have to go to so much trouble. I could have flown up here and caught the shuttle to my hotel. I've done it many times."

"Ms. Kramer, it wasn't any trouble," Agent Waters began, as he turned around in the front seat. "We have arranged for you to stay at a safe house outside Newark tonight. We thought it would be better than a hotel in Manhattan."

"Do you think all this is really necessary?"

"Yes, ma'am. Your husband's old associates are not exactly happy with you right now. We will rest easier tonight knowing we have someone watching out for you."

"Oh." Callie sat back in the seat and looked out the window. She had been in this area before, but tonight it seemed ominous. "Whatever you guys think."

Normally, Callie paid attention when she was riding to someplace new, but not today. If they wanted her out here instead of at a hotel a few blocks from the courthouse, they could also get her to the courthouse in the morning. She began to second guess her decision to insist on coming alone. She really wished Micah was at her side.

When they arrived at the safe house, she was introduced to two marshals and another person, a woman, but they didn't say she was with the Marshals. Her name was Betty Gilbert. When she was shown to her room she was surprised to see that her bags were waiting. After a few minutes to unpack and get settled, there was a knock at her door.

Callie looked up. "Hello, Betty."

"Hello, Mrs. Kramer."

"Wait. If we are going to be spending time together, I want you to call me Callie."

"Okay, Callie. Is there anything you need? Do you have any questions about what is about to happen?"

"I don't think so. The way I understand it, it is pretty straight forward. I will testify sometime tomorrow or Monday and then hang around until the trial is over and then go home. I would like to go to bed early tonight and get a good night's sleep."

"You may have noticed that when they introduced me, they didn't mention who I work for."

"I noticed."

"The official name for it is something different but most people call it the Witness Protection Program. I am here to talk to you about your future. As I understand, your husband had been interested in entering the program after his testimony in the trial. I also understand that he had invited you to join him. He couldn't actually make a commitment like that, but we understand the sentiment. Have you given it any thought."

"No, not really. I never thought I would be testifying. I was told it wouldn't be necessary. Then Bart died and everything changed. Now, after all this time, they called me and told me they need me to testify that I gave them some diskettes and tell when, where and how I got them."

Betty nodded. "There are times that after a person testifies in cases of organized crime, it isn't safe for them to return to their previous life. This may be one of those times."

"No one said anything to me about going into witness protection until Agent Maddox did this morning."

Betty seemed a little surprised. "I understood your husband told you about going into the program, several months ago."

"He did, but we hadn't been together for several months at that time and I honestly didn't give it serious thought. I was even told he couldn't make the offer."

"At this point, I believe it is something you should seriously consider. It is quite possible your life could be in danger after you testify."

"I'm starting to understand that."

"It is not a decision that you have to make right now, but I advise you to give it serious consideration. You are going to have to make a decision. I can tell you that we are prepared to offer you a new identity in a new location after the trial is over."

It wasn't something she really wanted, but there was no harm in hearing the woman out. "How would it work?"

"After you testify, you will go to another safe house in the area. As soon as the trial is over, you will effectively vanish and reappear somewhere with a new identity. We'll set you up with a job and a place to live, then it will be up to you to make a new life."

"When would I have to go?"

"As soon after the trial as possible."

"Can I send a message to Micah to explain?"

"Who is Micah?"

Callie thought for a moment. "Micah is probably the best friend I have ever had. He is without doubt, the best man I have ever known. For over two years he has been there for me every time I've needed him. In all that time, he has never pressured me for anything."

"I can't make any promises, but would he want to join you in the program?"

"I don't know." She paused for several seconds. "I don't know if I could ask him to give up his career and life and his parents to go with me. I just don't know." Callie got a far away look in her eyes and tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"We have someone that will work with you to fashion a letter, but when you write it, you still won't know where you will be going or what your new name or job will be. It is the only way we can guarantee your safety."

"I just don't know."

"I know it's a lot to consider. I'm going to leave now. Someone will be in touch with you after you testify tomorrow. Have a good night."

"So I testify tomorrow?"

"Yes, in the morning around ten o'clock."

"Is it alright if I call Micah? I told him I would call when I got here."

"There shouldn't be a problem with that," She said. "I just ask that you don't mention witness protection."

"Okay."

"Try to get some sleep." Betty walked out the door and closed it behind her.

"Goodnight," Callie said, but she doubted the woman heard her. She got ready for bed and climbed under the covers. She picked up her phone from the night stand beside the bed and dialed Micah's number. It rang several times and then she heard his voicemail greeting. It was unusual for him not to answer his phone, but she wasn't worried. "I made it to New York okay. I'll call you with my return information as soon as I have it."

She put the phone on the night stand and turned off the lamp. As soon as she closed her eyes, her mind was filled to overthrowing with questions. What am I going to tell Micah? Can he go into Witness Protection with me? Would he even want to? Do I dare ask him? How can I leave him when things are finally beginning to work out for us? What will I be allowed to tell him? She was exhausted but she couldn't sleep.

The next morning, a marshal drove her to the court house. As they walked up the front steps, a reporter shouted out her name. She was surprised that anyone would know her name. She stopped and turned toward the voice just as a gun shot rang out. The normal scene on the front steps of the courthouse was instantly thrown into chaos and confusion. Callie was hustled into the building as people scattered, seeking cover. Thirty minutes later, after she had time to gather her wits, she was quietly ushered into the back of the courtroom. Some minutes later when the prosecution called Callie Kramer to testify, Jim Lewis and Blake Fowler exchanged a knowing smirk that instantly vanished when they realized she was actually walking to the front of the courtroom.

She was on the witness stand for forty-five minutes. She quickly answered the prosecutor's questions and then endured thirty-five minutes of cross examination by the defense, trying to get her to admit to fabricating the data. After her testimony, she was escorted to a secure location inside the courthouse. When testimony concluded for the day, she was driven to another safe house.

She was introduced to the protection personnel on duty and shown to her room. She unpacked and changed into something more comfortable for the evening. Fifteen minutes later there was a knock at her door. "Come in," she said. She looked up from the current issue of Modern Photographer to see a woman she didn't recognize walk into her room.

"Mrs. Kramer, I'm Barbara Fisher."

"Let me guess, you're with Witness Protection?"

"Officially it's known as the Witness Security Program, but you're right." She smiled a warm friendly smile. "I'm with Witness Protection."

"Well, since we are clarifying things, my name is Callie, not Mrs. Kramer."

"My mistake. Callie, please call me Barbara. I understand your arrival at the courthouse was memorable this morning."

"You could say that. What, exactly happened?"

"It depends on who you ask. There were definitely rifle shots fired from a considerable distance."

"Has anyone been caught?"

"No, unfortunately. I'm told the witnesses at the scene have been very contradictory of each other. They can't even agree on where the shots originated."

"Who was the target?"

"It seems you were."

All color drained from her face. "Why?"

"Callie, I know it is a shock, but later, when you have time to think about it, you will realize you aren't really surprised. You were about to testify in a major organized crime trial. We have an idea who was possibly behind it. Granted, it is just an idea at this point, but we do know this. In the past few years, several associates at Fincher Fowler & Pratt have died under suspicious circumstances. Two of them were actively cooperating with investigations of the the firm. Two of the others were rumored to be interested in leaving the firm. It's not a big stretch to imagine that they would go to great lengths to prevent you from testifying."

"No way."

"After the attempt on your life this morning, we placed several of our people in the courtroom for additional security and to specifically observe the defendants' reactions when you were called to the witness stand."

"And?"

"When you were called, Jim Lewis and Anson Fincher turned to each other and shared a smug little smirk which instantly disappeared the instant they realized you were in the courtroom. They obviously were not expecting you to be there. The other two partners immediately turned to Jim Lewis and the looks he was getting weren't exactly friendly. That was the turning point for you."

"I don't understand."

"The Attorney General has authorized me to extend an offer to bring you into the witness protection program."

"When do I have to give you my answer?"

"Ideally, right now."

"I don't think I can do that. I know Bart supposedly was asking to go into witness protection after the trial and he also said he requested it for me, but I never gave it serious consideration."

"I think you should."

"How does it work?"

"We will set you up with a new identity with a complete personal, work and educational history. We will arrange for a job and a place for you to live. We will provide you with an automobile and some money to meet your needs."

"What can I take with me?"

"A few clothes and some personal items."

"What about money in bank accounts or stock accounts?"

"We will arrange to have your funds transferred to new accounts as soon as you open them."

"What about my friend, Micah?"

"What about him?"

"What can I tell him."

"Unfortunately, to maintain your safety, you can't tell anyone about your new identity. As far as most of the world is concerned, you will drop off the face of the earth. If you wish to notify someone, we can help you craft a letter, informing them of your situation."

"I can write my own letter, thank you."

"I'm sure you can. If you choose to leave a farewell letter, you have to write it before you learn anything about your new identity and location. You just can't afford to accidentally put something in the letter that would give a clue as to where you will be settling."

"I just don't know if I can do this."

"I realize this is a lot to wrap your mind around, especially if you haven't seriously considered it." She smiled. "Try to get some sleep. We will talk again after the weekend." She turned to leave.

"Barbara, can you wait just a minute?"

"Of course."

"Can I talk to Micah?"

"You aren't going to like what I am about to say."

Callie suddenly had a sinking feeling. She looked worried because she was afraid she already knew the answer to her question. She was right.

Barbara continued in a somber tone, "It would be best if you have no more contact with anyone in your old life. You don't want anyone to know you are going into witness protection. If you choose to speak with someone you should not say anything to make them think you are not going to return home after the trial."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she listened to words that crushed her heart.

"I am truly sorry, Callie, but I must be on my way." With that she left Callie with her magazine and her thoughts.

In Utah it had been a very long week since Wednesday morning for Micah. He didn't know if it was his imagination or just because Callie was gone, but it seemed that anything that could go wrong did. On the way back from the airport on Wednesday morning, he got a speeding ticket. Thursday night after work, he burned his dinner in the microwave. Friday, the motor on one of the pumps for an aeration pond failed. While he was disconnecting the motor from the pump, his cell phone fell into the water. "That just makes my week perfect," he said to the plant manager who was still with him two hours after he should have quit for the day.

After Ms. Fisher left, Callie tried to find a positive in this situation and couldn't find one. Just when she was ready to move on with her life, to try to find happiness with Micah, fate was about to deal her another crushing blow. She turned off the light and sat for a long time considering the decision they were asking her to make.

Later in the evening she decided a shower might help her relax and think more clearly. After the shower she looked at the clock beside the bed. It was ten o'clock, but in Utah it was only eight o'clock. She had to talk to Micah. She was a smart woman. She could talk to him without giving her plans away. She thought about what she would say. She decided not to mention the shooting this morning.

She picked up her cell phone to call and then put it back down. She turned out the light and tried to go to sleep.

At eleven o'clock she was still awake. By that time she had convinced herself of two things. #1) Barbara had not said she couldn't call Micah. #2) She could talk to him and not disclose any information she shouldn't.

With sweaty palms, Callie called Micah and waited for an answer. It was nine o'clock and he should be at the RV by now. She counted one, two, three, then the fourth ring. When his voicemail picked up, she ended the call.

There were many reasonable valid reasons why Micah didn't answer his phone. Unfortunately she couldn't think of any of them right now, so she began to worry. At midnight she called and again got no answer. This time she left a message. "Micah, it's Callie. I'm worried about you. When you get this message call me. I don't care what time it is. I love you and I'm worried. I still don't know when the trial will be over and I can come home. As soon as I have travel plans, I'll call you. I can't wait to see you. I'm going to be counting the minutes. Don't forget. Call me as soon as you can. I'm rambling. I love you, bye."

She ended the call and decided to send a text message. "I'm worried about you. I Love You. Call or text. Please."

Saturday, Micah drove 60 miles to get a replacement for his drowned phone. When he finally found his flavor of wireless store he found out that it would take until Monday to get an insurance replacement. He took care of the details involved and returned to his RV in Green River. Later in the afternoon, he decided he should find a phone and call Callie. It was a good plan until he realized he didn't know her phone number. They had exchanged phone numbers when she first got her phone but he put it into his contacts list and never actually punched in the number to call her. He searched the RV from bow to stern and couldn't find anything with Callie's phone number. He realized he was going to be in so much trouble.

Saturday and Sunday, Callie worried that Micah hadn't called. She had expected him to call on Friday night after he got her message.

Sunday evening, Micah was putting away laundry. He opened Callie's drawer to put away some clothes and saw a business card. It had a phone number written on the back. He turned it over and let out a whoop. It was the card Bill Littleton had given Callie the first time he and Callie had gone to Littleton's law office together. He nearly ran out the door of the RV.

As he burst through the door of the RV Park office, Francie looked up in surprise. She smiled, "Hi Micah, is there something I can do for you?"

"Actually there is." With a sheepish look on his face, he said, "Friday afternoon my phone drowned. It fell into a aeration pond when I was trying to disconnect a dead motor from a pump. They are shipping one here, but it won't get here until Monday at the earliest."

She nodded all the while he was talking. "I'll be happy to sign for it and hold it for you."

"Thanks, I will be most grateful but there is something else."

"Callie had to go out of town and I'm afraid she will be worried if she doesn't hear from me."

"Okay?" she said with a question in her voice. "So would you like to borrow my phone to call her?"

"Yes, but it is complicated."

By this time she was about to laugh. "You don't know the phone number."

"How did you know?"

"You said your phone drowned. All your phone numbers are probably in your contacts list like mine are. I worry some day that I'll need to make a call and not have my personal phone. I won't remember half the numbers I call regularly."

"That's about the size of it."

"Is there someone that you can call that has her number?"

"I'm pretty sure I do. I found a business card of someone that has her number."

Francie reached under the counter as he was talking. She handed him her phone and smiled. "Call that girl and get yourself out of the doghouse."

He smiled and took the phone.

She looked at the clock, "Oh my. It's time for me to make my seven o'clock rounds. I'm going to go now. I'll be back in about fifteen minutes. If you get finished before I get back, just leave my phone on the counter and lock up on your way out. Just press the button on the door knob. Good luck. By the way, tell her hi for me and tell her that she can call that number if she needs to get in touch with you. I can take a message or find you."

"Thanks a million, Francie. I really appreciate your help."

"You're welcome. I'm glad to do it."

She exited the lobby through a door behind the counter.

As soon as she left, Micah keyed in the number for Bill Littleton. Bill answered on the third ring. "Hello?"

"Hello, Bill, this is Micah Marsh."

"Oh hi, Micah. I almost didn't answer the call. I didn't recognize the number or even the area code. Where are you?"

"I'm in Utah. Listen Bill, I've got a problem and I hope you can help me."

"I'll do my best. How is Callie, these days?"

"That's part of the problem. She is in New York and I need to get in touch with her."

"So how do I figure in all this?"

"I dropped my phone into a pond on Friday. I lost everything on the phone. I don't know Callie's phone number."

Bill began to laugh. "You are hoping I still have her number."

"I sure do."

"You're in luck. I've got it here on my cell phone." In under a minute, Bill was able to find Callie's number and give it to Micah.

"Thanks, Bill. You may have just saved my life."

"Glad I had the number with me. Call that girl. Put her mind at ease."

"Don't worry. I will. Thanks again."

Micah ended the call and immediately began to punch in Callie's number.

At 9:15, Callie had talked to Barbara Fisher again. Barbara had picked up on a general uneasiness in her demeanor this evening. Callie tried to pass it off as anxiety over having to make the decision about witness protection that looked to be looming in her future. She didn't say anything about not being able to get in touch with Micah all weekend. When she was asked if she had talked to anyone, Barbara seemed pleased when she said she hadn't talked to anyone. The fact that it was only because Micah didn't answer her calls and hadn't answered his voice mail or text messages, didn't seem important enough to share at the time.

After Barbara left, she decided to take a shower and go to bed. Surely Micah would call soon. As she stepped into the shower, her phone began to vibrate on the bathroom counter. Too bad it was set on a towel and she didn't hear it.

In Utah, it was Micah's turn to be frustrated. After the fourth ring her voicemail picked up. He wished she had put a personalized greeting on the phone instead of using the default greeting. He so wanted to hear her voice. It had already been five days and four nights and he was missing her terribly. He understood that it was something she felt she needed to do on her own, but he didn't have to like it. He couldn't wait for her return. She had hinted strongly that she was ready to try a real relationship with him. If he had been on his phone he would have ended the call and called back later, but he wasn't, so he began to leave his message.

After several seconds of what he thought was rambling, he saw Francie walk past the front door. "I better go now. I'll talk to you tomorrow. I Love You. Bye Sweet Girl."

Micah heard the door close behind him. "Sweet Girl?" Francie asked with mischief in her eyes. She had slipped back into the office. "I take it you were able to get her number."

"I did." He smiled and handed her the phone. "Too bad she didn't pick up on the call."

Francie frowned. "Do you want to wait around and call again?"

"No, I left a message and I told her I should have a new phone tomorrow. I didn't have any earth shaking news to share. I'll call her as soon as I have my new phone. Thanks so much." Micah backed away from the counter toward the door.

"Have a good evening."

"Thanks."

Callie stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel. She heard the notification tone for a missed call. She almost dropped the towel. She picked up her phone and saw there was one missed call and one message. She looked first at the missed call list and didn't recognize the number. She held her breath as she went to voicemail to play the message. She was afraid something had happened to Micah. At the sound of his cheerful voice, she could exhale and relax. He was okay.

"Hi Callie. I've missed you so much. I haven't called because I dropped my phone into a pond Friday. Can you believe it? I should have a new one Monday afternoon, but it will probably be late. I'll call as soon as I get it. I would have called earlier, but I only had your number in my contacts. I lost all of them, of course. This afternoon I found Bill's card in your drawer at the RV and called him. Luckily he had your number. Maybe my luck is changing. I hope so. I'm calling on Francie's phone. You remember Francie at the RV park office. She says hi. She said you can get in touch with me at this number if you need to, but again, I should have my new phone with the same old number on Monday. I hope everything is going well for you. I wish you would have let me come with you, but I understand. I am really looking forward to you getting back. I think I will wrap this project up before the Fourth of July. Let me know where and when to pick you up and I'll be there anytime. Night or Day. I'm ready for a few days on the beach before the next job. How about you? I can't wait to hold you in my arms. I better go now. I'll talk to you tomorrow. I Love You. Bye Sweet Girl."

By the time she finished listening to his message, tears were streaming down her face. She finished drying off and dressed for bed. Then she listened to his message again. It was comforting to know that he was okay and that he would call tomorrow. She went to bed and slept soundly for the first time since arriving in New Jersey. She dreamed about laying on the beach beside Micah.

During the remainder of the trial, Callie remained at the safe house in case she was needed for further testimony. She passed the time by reading and playing cards with the Marshals tasked with her security. Monday afternoon she decided she would call and leave a message for Micah so he would have it as soon as he powered up his phone. At the three o'clock babysitter shift change, she went to her room, closed the door, went into the bathroom and closed that door. She dialed Micah's number. When voicemail answered, she smiled. "Hello, Loyal Prince. I got your message and decided not to wait for your call. My part is over. I am just waiting for the trial to be over. I look forward to talking to you tonight. Is it okay if I call you at ten, your time? Unless I get a text to the contrary, listen for me at nine. The beach sounds heavenly. Bye now."

Micah was anxious for quitting time on Monday. He hurried to the RV park and stopped at the office. Francie saw him park his truck and by the time he got into the office and to the counter, she had his package waiting for him.

She smiled. "I'll bet you're looking for this." She slid the package across the counter.

"I am." She held up a pair of scissors and he gladly took them. In seconds he cut the packaging tape and had the phone out of the box. He turned it on and handed Francie her scissors. Almost immediately the phone began to receive text messages. "I'll have to set up my email accounts, but it looks like I'm back in business. Thanks for your help."

"Any time."

He hurried to the RV and started playing the voice mail messages. The first message was something about work. He skipped over it and found and listened to Callie's first message. He looked at the time of the message. He was a little surprised she had waited so late to call, but he went on to the next messages. There were several work related messages and he skipped over them looking for something more from Callie. After listening to her second message he felt some better. She didn't sound upset. He could tell that she had gotten his message from Sunday. He didn't really understand why she wanted him to wait for her to call at ten, but he didn't see it as a problem. He prepared his dinner and waited for her call.

There was a knock at Callie's door. She looked at the clock. It was 7:30. "Come in Barbara."

Barbara Fisher entered her room. She pointed to a chair. Callie nodded. "Make yourself at home."

"How's it going?"

"I'm getting tired of playing cards and I'm anxious to get out of here, but it's not actually bad. Any idea when the trial will be over?"

"The prosecution and defense are expected to present their closing arguments in the morning."

"That's a good thing isn't it?"

"I don't know if it is good or bad, but after closing arguments, the jury will start their deliberations."

"And then the trial will be over and I will have to make a decision."

"There is nothing preventing you from making your decision now."

"Barbara, I'm not ready yet."

Barbara stood to leave. "Time is getting short. At some point you are going to have to make up your mind."

Callie frowned and blinked back tears. "I know, don't remind me." She watched as Barbara walked out of the room and pulled the door closed behind her. For the next hour she tried to distract her thoughts from the burning question at hand. She picked up the paperback book she bought in the Denver airport on her way to join Micah in Nebraska and began to read. She read two chapters but when she started the third, she realized she didn't have any idea what she just read. She put the book down and turned on the television. Some time later she realized an infomercial had been on and she had no idea what they were selling. She reached over and switched off the set and continued to stare into space.

At 11:55 she glanced over at the clock. It was almost time. She picked up her phone, stood and began to pace around her room. Her heart began race. She thought, "What can I say to him? What if this is the last time I hear his voice? I have to talk to him but I can't tell him. How am I going to do this? How am I going to leave him behind?" She took several deep breaths and called his number.

"Hello, Sweet Girl."

"Hey, guy. So, your phone can't swim?" She decided to try to go for up beat and perky.

He chuckled. "No, it turns out that it can't, but I've got a replacement and everything is alright now. Almost everything."

"What's wrong?" she asked, with obvious alarm in her voice.

"You aren't here."

"Oh, you goof."

"I'm serious. Ever since you left, its been awful. On my way back to Green River, I got a speeding ticket. Thursday I burned my dinner and Friday I dropped my phone into an aeration pond. When will you be home?"

There was no response.

"Callie, are you still there?"

The torment of talking to Micah and not being able to be honest with him was almost more than she could take. "Micah, I am so sorry. I'll never be able to come back to you." Tears streamed down both cheeks as she pressed the mute button to turn the microphone back on. She softly said, "I'm still here."

"Good, I was afraid I lost you."

She had to press the mute button again. She was afraid he would hear her ragged breathing and sobs.

After an uncomfortable silence, he asked, "Callie, are you okay?"

She pressed the mute button again. "No. I'm not."

"What's wrong?"

"I miss you so much."

"I miss you too. Are you finished with your part?"

"I testified last Friday."

"How did that go?"

"It wasn't too bad when the prosecutor was asking the questions but the defense tried to trip me up and say things I didn't mean. He tried to twist everything around."

"I'll bet you did great."

She momentarily smiled to herself. "The prosecutor said I was an excellent witness."

"What have you been doing since Friday?"

"Just playing cards with my babysitters in case they call me back to the witness stand."

"Babysitters, what are you talking about?"

She now knew why Barbara didn't want her talking to anyone. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I forgot to tell you. Trent Maddox met me at the gate when my plane landed at DIA. They changed my flight to go to Newark and they have put me up at a safe house in New Jersey. I only went into the city on Friday."

"Do they think you will have to go back to court?"

She was relieved that Micah didn't question her mentioning a safe house. "Probably not."

"Do they have any idea when the trial will be over?"

"In a day or so they think it will go to the jury, but then who knows how long it will take."

"So, it sounds like it will all be over in a few days. I'll bet you can't wait to get out of there."

"You have no idea. I am so sorry I got you involved in this mess."

"It's all going to work out."

"I don't know. Sometimes I wonder."

"Callie, you are going to be fine. I promise, it will be okay. Someday we'll probably look back at this as just something else we had to overcome."

"I wish I shared your optimistic viewpoint."

"I am so glad you called, but I know it's getting late. I think you should try to get some sleep. I'm sure it will look better for you in the morning."

"Micah, I love you so much. You'll never know how much I appreciate all you've done for me."

"Callie, I love you too. Be strong. In a few days you can put all of this behind you and we can move on."

"Micah, I don't want to hang up. I don't want to let you go tonight."

"Callie, we both have to be strong. Good night. Sleep well and call me when you know your travel plans."

"Okay. Good night Micah, sweet dreams. I love you. Good bye."

She ended the call and began to sob. She knew she could never speak to him again.

Thursday morning, the verdicts were announced. In the end, the jury believed the prosecution and returned guilty verdicts on 387 total counts, ranging from money laundering to conspiracy to racketeering. The defendants would be back in court in a few weeks for sentencing. They would be going to prison for a long time.

Agent Maddox drove to the safe house to deliver the news to Callie in person. He didn't know what kind of reaction to expect. She surprised him. As a single tear seeped from the corner of her eye, she said, "I guess I'm going to have to do it."

"Witness Protection?"

She wiped her cheek, took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes. I'm afraid so."

It only took her twenty minutes to pack her suitcase. When they left the safe house, Agent Maddox road with her and a Marshal to the airport. The Marshal drove past the passenger terminals to a remote section of the airport. He pressed a button on what looked like a garage door opener. A roll up door opened and they drove inside a hangar. When the car stopped, a woman stepped from an office and walked toward the car to meet them. Agent Maddox went to the back of the car and retrieved her bags.

The woman walked up to Callie. "Welcome into the US Marshals Witness Security Program. My name is Elizabeth Avery."

Callie frowned and extended her hand, "Mine is Callie Kramer, at least for now."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, but I truly wish our meeting was not necessary."

From the corner of her eye she saw Agent Maddox approach. "Excuse me, Callie. This is where I say good bye and good luck." Agent Maddox smiled and turned toward the car.

For a second, Callie watched him walk away. "Agent Maddox, wait." He turned around. "Trent, thank you for everything."

He smiled. "You're welcome. Good luck. Have a great life. I really mean it." He turned and continued to the waiting car.

She watched the car leave the hangar. The door closed. She wiped at her eyes to clear the tears that had unexpectedly begun to flow. She took a few breaths to settle her nerves and turned back to face the woman. She forced a smile and said, "I'm sorry about all that. I'm just a little overwhelmed by all this."

"Don't give it a thought. I know this will be a challenging transition for you, but congratulations on deciding to allow us to give you a new, safe life."

"Is there someplace I could sit down?"

"Absolutely. I'll get your bags. There are some chairs just inside that glass door." She pointed to a glass door in the corner of the hangar."

When they walked through the door, Callie was surprised. She expected a sterile office, but instead found what appeared to be a very warm and inviting lounge. She was led to a seating area and Callie chose a comfortable looking chair and sat down. Ms. Avery sat opposite her in another chair.

"As I said, my name is Elizabeth Avery. You can call me Beth, my friends do. We will be spending a lot of time together in the next few days."

Callie looked at her like she wanted to say something, but didn't.

"I want to assure you, I've done this several times. I know what is necessary to make this work for you and am here to guide you through the process."

"Okay, what do I do?"

"First, I must ask you if you are sure this is what you want to do?"

Callie tried to force a smile, but it wouldn't come. "I'm sure, but I don't really want to do it."

"I have heard that before. Very few people ever want to have to make a transition like this, but it is in your best interest. I understand you have a letter you want to send to someone."

"I do. There is a very special man that has helped me and taken care of me for the past two years. I have to tell him something, but I can't ask him to disrupt his life to join me. It wouldn't be fair to him."

"I need to take a look at the letter."

"It's kind of personal. I don't know who I'll be and I don't know where I'll be. What could I say that could possibly be dangerous for me?"

"I have to ask."

"Okay, here. Read the thing, if you must." She pulled an envelope from her purse and shoved it across the table.

Beth read the letter and put it back in the envelope. She looked up when she finished. "I'm sorry. You were right. There was nothing dangerous in the letter. It does help me to understand you a little better. Is there is anyone else you want to notify? If there is, now is the time to do it. After you learn of your new identity and location, it won't be safe for you to have communications with anyone from your old life."

"There is no one to notify, but Micah."

"I can't stress this too much. It is important that you have no further contact with him, to protect your new identity."

A tear rolled down her cheek as she said, "I understand."

"Now. We've looked into your background and have come up with three location choices for you. The three are locations where we believe you have no previous connections. You understand you won't be able to continue in your former occupation due to it's specialized nature."

"I understand."

"Unfortunately, two of our most popular regions are out of the area of consideration for you. Florida and the Northeast are out."

"What have you got?"

"Your choices are in the states of Oregon, Michigan and Arkansas."

"Okay, I've passed through Arkansas once or twice, but I've never been to either Michigan or Oregon."

"That's good. What do you think? Do you have any immediate reactions to any of those places?"

"I've heard it rains a lot in Oregon."

"It does, in some areas."

"I know it's cold in the winter in Michigan."

"That's right."

"Where in Arkansas are we talking about?"

"Hot Springs. It is about fifty miles from the capitol, Little Rock. Do you know anyone there?"

"Not a soul."

"Do any of the three immediately interest you?"

"I know two of the three don't interest me."

"Michigan and Oregon?"

"Yes."

"From what you are saying, it sounds like you are choosing Arkansas."

"I might be. I never dreamed I would one day be in a situation where I would be given a choice of three places to spend the rest of my life and be expected to make that choice on the spot."

"I know it's tough."

Callie stood and walked around the room. After a few moments, she returned to her chair. She looked at Beth. "Can you tell me about the job in Arkansas?"

"So is that where you want to go?"

"I don't know."

"If you choose to relocate to Arkansas, we will place you in a job with the National Park Service in Hot Springs. It will be an administrative position in procurement. It won't be as exciting as Peabody Strauss, but you understand it might be easier for someone in your past to find you if you were working in a job similar to your old one. Keep in mind that once you are relocated, you are not required to stay in government employ. You always have the option of pursuing something on your own, but we advise you to stay with the government. You can be assured, with the job we provide, there won't be any awkward questions about your background. We will provide you with a legend with a work, educational and personal history. I'll give it to you for you to study and learn as soon as you make your decision."

"When will I go?"

"Once you make your decision, we will walk to the terminal and board a flight to your new home."

"I won't fly from here?"

"No, this is just an empty hangar. When you reach your decision, I will trade purses and wallets with you. Your new wallet and purse will have $500 cash, your new ID and a new credit card with your new name on it. If you have any prescription medicines, you need to give those to me so we can have new ones waiting for you went we arrive at your new home. Any other items that identify you as Callie Kramer must be left behind."

"Let's do it."

"You're choosing Arkansas?"

"Yes, I guess I am."

"The easiest way to do this part is to dump your purse on the table."

Callie picked up her purse and unceremoniously emptied it on the table. "So long, Callie Kramer." She looked up at Beth. "What's my new name?"

"Just a minute." Beth walked to a cabinet and returned with a new purse that looked surprisingly like her old one and handed it to Callie. "Hello, Maria Sirelli."

"So, I'm an Italian girl from Arkansas." She smiled. "I sort of look Italian, don't I?"

"That's what we thought."

"Thanks for noticing my purse."

"You're welcome. We realize this is very difficult. We try to make things as easy as possible for you." She let her words soak in and continued. "You will drop your letter off at the airport post office and we will board a commercial flight. When we get to Arkansas, you will open a checking account tomorrow. I will call in the routing information and money will be deposited into your account tomorrow or the next day. That should hold you over until your first paycheck. A late model car, registered in your new name will be waiting at the airport when we arrive."

"It seems you've thought of everything."

"You have to remember, we've done this a few times. Let's take a look at what's in your purse."

Beth looked at each item on the table. Most, she slid across the table to Maria to put into her new handbag. A few, she slid to her side of the table. When she picked up the cell phone, she powered it off and set it aside.

"Well, there goes the last link to the old me," Callie said with a look of resignation.

"Maria, it will get better."

She tried to muster up a smile. "That's what I keep telling myself."

"Alright, you're ready to go."

"Now?"

Beth slid a folder with a boarding pass across the table and smiled. "Not exactly. We're booked on a flight that leaves a few minutes before five, but it will be much more comfortable to wait here."

Chapter 39

At about the same time, in Utah, Micah was looking over some reports. He thought about Callie and decided to give her a call. He pulled out his phone and selected Callie from his new partial contact list. The phone began to ring, but she didn't answer. Eventually the call went to voicemail. He didn't want to leave a message so he ended the call.

Once the plane was off the ground, Beth opened her briefcase and pulled out a leather portfolio large enough to hold a full size daily planner. She handed it to Callie.

Callie took it and looked back to Beth. "What is this?"

"It's yours. Open it and take a look inside. We put together some information and items that will make your transition easier. Among other things, there is a copy of your life history. You need to study it until it becomes a part of you. There is also a notepad and pen. You need to decide on your new signature and practice it until it is automatic. There is also an Arkansas highway map, a map of the Hot Springs area and some more information from the Hot Springs Chamber of Commerce."

She glanced over the materials and then began to read. In a few minutes she heard a voice beside her. "Maria?" In a few seconds she heard it again, a little more urgent this time. "Maria?" After another minute or two, the voice said, "Maria Sirelli."

Callie turned toward the voice with a puzzled look on her face. A look of realization instantly replaced the puzzled look when she saw Beth. "Oh yeah. It's going to take me a while to get used to my new name."

With a very serious expression on her face, Beth said, "It's not just a new name. I can't stress to you how important it is that you fully commit yourself to becoming Maria Sirelli. It is critically important for your safety."

"Maria understands," Maria said with a look of somber determination. For the next hour and a half she read and reread the story of her life at least five times before they got to Charlotte. At Charlotte, Beth insisted on treating her to dinner. On the next flight, she continued with her studies. When she first opened her dossier it seemed like an impossible task to learn the details of her new identity, but then she decided to approach it like she once approached researching companies and stocks. When the jet's wheels next touched the ground, she was beginning to believe she really was Maria Sirelli.

When she heard the announcement welcoming them to Little Rock, Maria turned to Beth. "How long do we have to wait for our next flight?"

"This is our last stop."

"I thought you said we were flying to Hot Springs."

"The nearest scheduled air service to Hot Springs is Little Rock. We can be there by car in about an hour."

"Oh, I guess I misunderstood."

"Sorry. One other thing. You need to check at the Information Desk. There should be a package waiting for you."

They claimed their luggage and Maria asked, "Where is the Information Desk?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure we can find it."

"Do you know what is in the package?"

"Your car keys and a description of where it is parked."

Maria smiled. "That definitely makes it worth finding the Information Desk."

Beth pointed to a sign in the distance. Maria looked and then smiled. "I knew we could find it."

About fifty feet before they got to the counter, Beth said, "Don't forget."

Maria smiled and said, "I've got this." She walked up to the counter and waited in line. When it was her turn, a young woman asked, "May I help you?"

"I was told there would be a package waiting for me here."

"What is your name?"

"Maria Sirelli," she said with confidence and looked to Beth and smiled.

"Yes, Ms. Sirelli, we do. Can I see some identification, please?"

"Of course." Maria reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet. She opened her new wallet and found her New York Driver's License. The woman looked at Maria and her picture. She reached under the counter and brought out the package.

Maria took the package. "Thank you." She turned to Beth and said, "Let's go." When they were out of earshot of the Information Desk, Maria asked, "What now?"

"I suggest we find some place to sit down and you can take a look at the contents of your package." At the next unoccupied chairs, Maria stopped. They both sat and she opened the envelope. She pulled a single sheet of paper and a key ring from the envelope. She looked at the paper and began to read.

Dear Maria,

Welcome to Arkansas. Below is a photo of your car. You will find it parked in the short term parking lot, space A17. You will find additional information in the glove box.

Your Uncle

Maria looked at Beth. "I guess we're all set. Let's go check out my new wheels."

They found her car easily enough. Inside the glove box, Beth found turn by turn instructions to Maria's house in Hot Springs. By the time Maria turned in to her driveway, it was eleven forty-five. Beth noticed a garage door opener clipped to the visor. She pressed one of the buttons and the door opened. Maria drove the car inside the garage, shifted to park and turned off the engine. Beth pressed the button and the door closed.

Maria stepped out of the car and walked to the door leading into the house. She turned and smiled at Beth. "Want to take a look at my new place?"

"Lead on."

She turned the knob and stepped into the kitchen. It wasn't new or large, but it was nice. It was bigger than the kitchen in Brooklyn. The living room was furnished with a couch and chair. The dining room had no furniture at all. Down the hallway she found three bedrooms. The first bedroom on the front of the house was empty, the next one was also empty. The bedroom on the back of the house was furnished with a full size bed, a dresser and a night table. It was about like her furniture in Nashville. There was a bathroom in the Master bedroom and one in the hallway. Beth trailed Maria on her tour of the house. After they looked things over, they returned to the living room.

"What do you think?" Beth waited for a response.

Maria said a tentative, "It's nice."

"There are some things I need to tell you. The furniture is all leased pre-paid for six months. After that you can do what you want. I'm sure you noticed the linens in packages on the bed. You can spend the night tonight here but there is another option."

"What is that?"

"I don't know if you noticed the car parked in front of your house, but it is a rental for me. She walked to a drawer beside the range. She opened it and pulled out a set of keys. I'm going to spend the night at a hotel near here. If you want, you can spend the night there also. There is a room reserved for you if you want it."

Maria looked around the living room and asked, "What time is it?"

"Oh, my. It's twelve fifteen."

"Let's go to the hotel. We can take my car. We'll get a good night's sleep and get started medium early in the morning."

Beth laughed. "What is medium early?"

"It's about ten o'clock."

They drove to the Morris Pointe Hotel and checked in before one AM. At ten o'clock on Friday morning, they were back at Maria's house. She took her luggage into the house and carried it to her bedroom. When she returned to the kitchen, Beth was sitting at the kitchen table. "There are some things that participants need to do as soon as possible after relocation."

"Such as?"

"You need to open a new checking account so we can transfer the funds we agreed to provide. That will also allow us to transfer the funds from your old life accounts to the new account as soon as possible. You have a valid New York Driver's License, but you need to get an Arkansas License. I can go shopping with you to help you select other items for the house or yourself, if you want my help."

"I would like to find out where I'll be working."

"That's an easy one. We can drive by there today. Understand that I can't go in with you."

"I have a question. I know that I can't get a job in the financial services industry, for obvious reasons, but after I left New York, I started taking photographs. I never did anything professionally and no one in New York knows anything about my interest in photography. Is there anything wrong with pursuing photography as a hobby?"

"I wouldn't think so, but I'll check and see what my superiors think and get back to you. Is there anything else that you would like to talk about?"

"When do I start to work?"

"A week from this coming Monday."

"I've been thinking. What if I decide to find my own job?"

"We advise against it, but it is your decision to make. The job we have arranged for you is secure. You can be sure you will never be downsized."

"I know, but I have lost so much, I would like to feel like I am at least in charge of my job."

"Like I said, before, it is your choice. Know that once you leave our job, you are totally on your own as far as future employment goes."

"It's just a thought. It's still over a week before I start my new job. Hopefully, I'll love it."

"Maria, I know that you are giving up a lot, but you have a tremendous opportunity. You are a woman in your mid thirties and you get to decide the kind of personality you want to have. You have a history, but it is rather vanilla. You have the freedom to become the woman you have always wanted to be, but weren't, for some reason or other."

"I was always the wallflower when I was young. There was one weekend when I was bold and it changed the course of my life. At my fifteen year high school reunion I decided to step out and it has made all the difference."

"Well, sister, my advice to you is to resist the urge to become a hermit. You have been presented with the opportunity for a new life. Live it. I will be your contact if you ever need anything or suspect your identity has been compromised. In your bio, it says your father had a brother named Fred. Fred was my father, so we are cousins."

Maria grinned. "Hey, That's great, I never had a cousin. Do our families get together at holidays and stuff."

Beth sadly shook her head. "No, we hardly ever see each other. Our family is not a close one."

"Okay, I think what I'm hearing is that if I will pick out a bank and open an account and we drive by my new place of employment, you will be free to return to where ever it is that you call home."

"If you are comfortable with me leaving, I will drive back to Little Rock tomorrow and fly out of your life forever, unless you need some assistance."

"Beth, I don't know how familiar you are with my old life, but I've been alone so many times, I know I'll be alright this time. I need to get down to business. What do you know about the banks in town?"

"You'll have to decide that on your own. I never make recommendations on banks and stock brokers."

"Fair enough. I understand. Do you want to tag along with me or would you like to meet in an hour or so for lunch and take a drive to the National Park offices?"

"It's probably better if we aren't seen together at the bank. If you don't mind, when you finish up there, meet me back at the hotel where we stayed last night. I'll be staying there again tonight."

"I can do that."

They left her house at the same time. Maria drove toward town and stopped at the first branch bank she saw that had a name she liked. She opened a checking account with a hundred dollars of her cash. After opening her account, she drove across the parking lot to a Wal-Mart store and purchased a prepaid cell phone. She drove downtown and found the administrative offices for the National Park. She went inside in search of the procurement office and Holly Evans, her new boss. It was Friday morning and Holly was in a meeting. She introduced herself to a purchasing agent and left.

Beth was sitting in the lobby when Maria arrived at the hotel. She greeted Maria shortly after she walked in the front door. Maria looked around. "This place is nice. I really didn't pay much attention to it last night when we got here."

"It is nice. Are you ready for lunch?"

"I am."

"What would you like to eat?"

"I've got an idea. Let's ask someone that works here to recommend a unique place to eat that is good."

"Sounds like a great idea. Who do we ask?"

"How about her?" Maria pointed to a clerk at the front desk. They stepped up to the counter.

"May I help you?"

"Where do you like to eat lunch that is unique and serves good food?"

She turned to another clerk that had walked up just before Maria asked her question. "Did you hear her question?"

"Yes. Definitely Grandma's?"

"That's what I was thinking." She turned back to Maria. "There is this little hole in the wall place that serves southern comfort food. It's called Grandma's. You'll love it. Where are you from?"

Beth was suddenly tense, waiting for Maria's answer. "Kansas City," she replied and looked at Beth. The woman at the desk gave them directions and they were on their way in a few minutes. After a short drive, Beth stopped in front of a entirely unremarkable building. Grandma's was painted on the sign in front. "Are you sure you want to eat here?"

"Absolutely, if I'm going to live here, I'm going to embrace the local eateries." While they waited their turn in the buffet line, Maria looked around the little diner. Of course the tables were covered with red and white checked table cloths and there were matching curtains on the windows. It sort of reminded her of the Carters, years ago, in another time, in another life.

After lunch, they got into Beth's car and she asked, "Are you ready to go downtown?"

Maria shook her head. "No. Actually, I dropped by the office after I opened my checking account. Everyone was in a meeting but I now know where I need to go to report for work. I think I'm pretty well set. In fact, if you'll run me back to the hotel, I'll get my car and be out of your hair."

Beth looked surprised. "Are you sure?"

Maria thought about it for a few seconds as she looked around the parking lot. She was encouraged that she was starting to think of herself as Maria and not Callie pretending to be Maria. She took a deep breath and bit down on her lower lip. Maria was just another name. She was still the same person she had been two days before. She still had the same needs, wants and desires. "Unless you know of something else I need to do, it's time for me to start living my life here."

Beth nodded. "You've given me the routing information and account numbers for your new checking account. All your funds will be transferred from your old accounts to an intermediate account that is controlled by us and forwarded to your new ones by Monday." She handed Maria a business card. "If you have any problems, call this number, day or night and leave a message with a call back number. I will call you back."

"I see."

They drove back to the hotel in silence. Beth parked in the space beside Maria's car. Maria got out of the car and looked around to take in the hotel and grounds. It was very inviting. Callie and Micah could have had a nice honeymoon in a place like this. Maria knew she needed to push those kind of thoughts into the past. She unlocked her car, slid inside, started the engine and drove away without ever looking back to Beth.

For a while, she drove around town with no particular destination in mind. She drove to the east side of town, turned around and returned to the center of town. She stopped and strolled through one of the Bath Houses in the National Park. She drove south past a mall and eventually came to Lake Hamilton. She saw a sign for a park and turned to see where it led. At the park she stopped at a campsite overlooking the lake and sat on the picnic table in the shade and watched boats on the lake on a sunny Friday afternoon. She watched as so many people had fun with friends and family. She felt empty and alone. By mid afternoon, she decided she had felt sorry for herself long enough. "Maria," she said out loud, "this is your new life you best get to it."

She walked back to the car and drove home. Back at her new house, which wasn't new, she unpacked her few clothes and put them away. When she looked into the closet she was reminded of the first few days she lived with Monica and Stephanie in Nashville. She made up her bed and decided it was time to assess her situation. She quickly confirmed what she had suspected. She needed everything. She had the clothes she had brought from Utah to New York. There was no food in the kitchen. There were two sets of cheap towels in her bathroom. There was a sixteen piece dinnerware set, still in the box, in one of the kitchen cabinets. There was a box with a stainless flatware set in one of the kitchen drawers. She wasn't much of a cook, but the cookware consisted of a skillet, a sauce pan, a spatula and a wooden spoon. The refrigerator was empty. It even needed ice trays. She wondered if it was a rental. She made a note to check the furniture rental paperwork Beth had given her.

She laughed to keep from crying. It was dismal, at best. She made a list and made a trip to the grocery store and picked up a few items. She made the decision to make do with the few clothes she had, for a while. She had lived with limited funds before. She knew she could do it again.

On Friday morning, it had been over three days since Callie had called. Micah began to get worried. He called her cell phone. This time he left a message. "Callie, I'm getting worried. I haven't heard from you since Monday. I heard there was a verdict yesterday. I'm going to be leaving here tomorrow to go home. Unless you are flying back today, you should fly to Florida. Call me."

Chapter 40

Friday, Maria spent the afternoon and evening getting familiar with Hot Springs. She felt like she needed to be careful with her money, but she decided to buy a clock radio for her bedroom. She had to do something to break the total silence in the house and she wasn't ready to spend the money for a television yet. While she was out, she discovered an oldies station that she liked. It reminded her of her youth. Friday night she didn't set an alarm, but when she woke up on Saturday morning, she switched on the radio. She got up and dressed, then made her bed. She walked into the kitchen and saw that there was nothing on the counters. Her housework was finished. She had no vacuum cleaner. There was nothing to dust. This minimalist lifestyle had its advantages. She sat down in the living room and started thinking about going to look for the local library to check out some books to read, when a song playing on the radio caught her attention.

It was the same song Bart had insisted she remember, 8675309. A smile suddenly stretched across her face from ear to ear. "Oh my gosh. How could I have forgotten?" she asked herself out loud. In a few seconds she began to laugh. Her mind began to run at ninety miles an hour. She grabbed her purse and car keys. She rushed to the garage and wasted no time driving to a store to purchase a Road Atlas. Back at home, she discovered it was less than 650 miles from Hot Springs, AR and her new life to her previous new life at Seagrove Beach, Florida. More significantly, there was about $600,000 in cash in a storage unit there and it was secured with a combination lock. She checked her wallet and counted $247. That would be more than enough cash to cover the cost of gasoline for a quick trip to Florida. Once she visited her storage unit, her short term cash flow issues would be behind her. If she was smart about it, money would never be a problem for her again. Her challenge would be to manage her cash purchases so that no one noticed and asked questions. She had been told she couldn't have contact with anyone in her previous life, but there wasn't anything said about cash she had hidden in her previous life.

As much as she hated the idea of never seeing Micah again, over the course of the first few days, she accepted it. Ultimately she came to believe it was the best choice for both of them. She loved him, but she couldn't ask him to give up his life and career to join her. On Saturday afternoon she formulated a plan to retrieve her money. It was at least an eleven hour drive so she decided to leave in the wee hours of Sunday morning.

She knew it was critical to her future safety and well being that none of her neighbors or friends in Florida recognize her. With that in mind, she stopped at a flea market in Mississippi. She bought a second hand duffel, a floppy straw hat, a pair of big sunglasses and a cheap blonde wig. She drove on to Florida and rolled into Seagrove Beach in the late afternoon. She had to fight an urge to go by Micah's condo.

According to her plan, she stopped at a gas station to fill her gas tank before going to the storage unit. She walked inside to pay for the gas and was about to hand the clerk money for the gas and a snack when her eyes were drawn to a stack of copies of the local newspaper. The shock of seeing the headline and her own picture caught her off guard and she had to fight a powerful urge to run away. All the color drained from her face. The clerk looked at her and asked, "Are you feeling okay?"

She took a quick breath to attempt to steady her out of control heart rate and slid a copy of the newspaper over beside her drink and candy bar. "Yes, I'm fine."

She was terrified at the possibility the clerk would recognize her. She held her breath as the young man looked at the paper, drink and candy bar. He looked up and asked, "Will there be anything else?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No, that's all for me." She slid a twenty dollar bill across the counter as he scanned her purchases. He took the twenty, turned to the register and turned back to Maria with her change. As soon as the last coin dropped into her hand, she turned and headed outside.

By the time she got into her car and closed the door, her hands were shaking. Luckily there was only one other car at the gas pumps. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. When she opened her eyes she had resumed some control of her emotions. She looked on the seat beside her and picked up the paper. The headline was disturbing but the picture was worse. It was her Drivers License photo. Thank goodness it was a bad picture, but then again, her wig and sunglasses made her look very different. The headline read: Local Woman Found Dead Near Manhattan Night Spot. It went on to tell the story of how Callie Kramer's body had been found on the morning of July 5th in an alley a half block from a popular Manhattan night spot. Police reported they had no suspects. The investigation was continuing.

She looked again at the picture. She didn't think anyone would recognize her but she felt like she needed to get away from that location. She left the gas station and unconsciously turned toward Micah's condo. She stopped at a beach parking lot and switched off the car. She rolled down the windows so she could enjoy the breeze and hear the waves. She stared at people playing on the beach for a few minutes in almost a trance. It took several minutes to wrap her mind around the reality of the newspaper story. She eventually recognized the story as a way to officially and publicly end the life of Callie Kramer. She didn't know what she had expected them to do to explain her sudden disappearance, but death had never once crossed her mind. It was troubling.

She set the paper aside and began to think about her new life as Maria Sirelli. Up until that shot rang out as she walked up the courthouse steps, she had thought they were being overly cautious and she would testify and return to Micah in Utah. The morning she left him she had even come to the conclusion that it was time for her to embrace him in her life. She should have known things weren't going to work out that way when Agent Maddox met her at the airport in Denver. He had had a good idea what was going to happen after she testified. Of course he couldn't have known about the attempt on her life but he had known she wouldn't be safe anymore as Callie Kramer. After the verdict was returned and she made the only decision she could, Thursday had become a blur of activity. It had been like tagging along on vacation with someone you barely knew and the person she barely knew was herself. Friday she spent the day in a haze checking out her new home and new surroundings. On Saturday, the memory of her cash stashed in a Seagrove Beach rental storage unit, jarred her out of her funk and re-energized the old Callie to action. At last, after so many months there was something for her to research, something for her to plan, something for her to do, and that all led up to her sitting in a car staring out at a beach that Callie knew intimately, but Maria had never before experienced.

After staring into space for several minutes, looking at nothing, Maria noticed a woman walk into the parking lot carrying a small shopping bag. The woman walked up to the car parked next to hers. She guessed the woman to be about her age. She unlocked the door and sat down in the passenger seat with her legs and feet still out of the car. Maria watched as the woman looked into the shopping bag. She looked up, saw Maria and smiled. She knocked as much of the sand off her shoes as she could, pulled her feet into the car and closed the door. Maria figured the woman was going to sit in her car and watch the comings and goings at the beach too. It was getting late in the afternoon but it was still pretty warm and it surprised her that the windows in the other car stayed closed. With the heavy tint on the windows she wouldn't have known there was anyone in the car if she hadn't watched the woman get inside. A few minutes later the woman emerged wearing a swim suit. She smiled and said, "I hadn't planned on swimming today, but I just couldn't help myself. It is such a beautiful afternoon."

Maria watched as she disappeared into the crowd on the beach. Suddenly inspired, Maria looked into the rear view mirror and saw one of those beach front souvenir shops across the street. An idea popped into her head and totally unlike the recently deceased Callie Kramer, Maria decided to act on it. She walked across the street and began her shopping spree by selecting a cheap beach towel. The words of Elizabeth Avery came to mind as she turned her attention to swim wear. She distinctly remembered Avery saying that she was giving up a lot, but she was facing a tremendous opportunity. She was a woman in her mid thirties and she would get to decide the kind of personality she wanted. She would have the freedom to become the woman she had always wanted to be, but wasn't, for whatever reason.

Energized and emboldened by her memory, she stepped past the one piece suits and began to look at bikinis. She eventually chose one that Callie would have never worn in public, but Maria decided it was perfect for her new bolder personality. She returned to her car with her new bikini and beach towel. Standing beside her car, she turned a complete circle to let her eyes sweep the entire parking lot. There wasn't anyone near her car. Her windows were not tinted like the other car but she decided that while Callie wouldn't dare change into a swimsuit in the car, Maria could go for it. She quickly ducked into the passenger side of the car, closed the door and proceeded to strip down to her bra and panties. She took one more look around the car to be sure the coast was still clear. She quickly pulled off her wig, changed into the bikini, got out of the car and headed to the beach for a walk and a dip in the ocean.

Maria's first walk on the beach was scary exciting. For her first time as Maria, she felt alive as she noticed the looks she was getting. She decided Maria liked attention. It was a lot like the time she went to pick up the clothes she shipped from New York. She smiled as she realized she could actually do this. She had never felt this way before. More men said hi and hello to her this afternoon than on all of Callie's walks together on this same beach, but as she approached Micah's condo, her feelings changed and tears began to flow. She looked up to the balcony where she had spent so many wonderful days and nights. Sunday afternoon on a beach 650 miles from her new home she began to fully comprehend what she had given up. Micah was never going to be more than a bitter sweet memory. She would never be able to bask in the warmth of his love. At one time she had even fantasized about the joy of having a little Callie or Micah in their future. There would be no future for Micah and Callie. Callie was no more and Micah would move on. Even on a crowded beach she felt totally alone. She turned toward the waves and walked toward deep water. A wave broke over her and she swam a few strokes under water to wash away her tears. She continued to splash in the waves until she was cried out. Then she emerged from the water.

By the time she reached the car she was almost dry again. She finished drying her hair and got in to change back into her street clothes. The afternoon was slipping away. Her life as Callie was already gone. She realized all she had left of her old life was her memories. She drove through and picked up a burger and parked in a shopping center parking lot to eat alone in silence. When she finished eating, she reached into the back seat for the duffel and her other flea market finds. She looked around to make sure no one was watching and stuffed her hair under the wig. She added the sunglasses and hat. She checked herself in the mirror and drove out of the parking lot. She parked in front of her storage unit a few minutes before eight o'clock. She was happy to see no one parked on the row with her locker. She unlocked number 201, stepped inside and rolled the door closed behind her. It was dark inside but there was enough light from the fiberglass panel in the roof to see to turn on the battery powered lantern which provided adequate working light. She quickly extracted the cash from the plastic totes and packed it into the duffel. With the money repacked and out of sight, she rolled the door up and looked up and down the row of storage units. She sighed with relief to see she was still alone. She hoped no one would remember seeing anyone at unit 201 today. She put the duffel in the trunk and moved her back pack to the back seat. She went back into the unit and picked up some of her off season clothes. She knew they would come in handy in Arkansas. She tossed them haphazardly in the trunk, covering the duffel. They would all have to be washed later, but she wasn't concerned about that now. She just wanted the money concealed. When she finished, the trunk looked like it was piled full of old clothes.

After everything was loaded, she sat down in the car to write a note for Micah. She felt sure he would eventually find it. When she finished the note, she picked up the newspaper and walked into the unit and placed the newspaper inside one of the totes and left the note on top. She locked up the unit and said goodbye to Seagrove Beach. On her way out of town, she stopped while she was still wearing the wig and bought another copy of the newspaper. She couldn't help herself. She was on the road back to Arkansas before nine o'clock. She hoped she didn't have tire trouble on the way home. She shuddered at the thought of having to dig a spare tire and jack out from under all the stuff she piled in the trunk. She stopped to spend the night at a motel along the way but didn't sleep much. She was up too many times looking out the window to check on her car. She was on the road early and pulled into her garage in the middle of the afternoon on Monday.

Chapter 41

On Monday, Callie's letter to Micah was delivered to his mailbox at the condo. Wednesday afternoon, he got home from Utah. As he sorted through the stack of mail at the kitchen sink, he spotted an envelope addressed to him in her handwriting. He dropped everything else. He ripped open the envelope and began to read.

July 3, 2003

Dear Darling Sweet Micah,

This is absolutely the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. Reluctantly acting on the recommendations of the FBI, US Marshals and the Federal Prosecutor, I have reluctantly decided to enter the witness protection program. As I write this letter, I have no idea where I will relocate, what I will do for a living, or what my name will be. In a thousand years I can never thank you enough for what you have done for me these past months. In my heart I know I love you and because I do, I could never ask you to turn your back on your life to join me going into the unknown life that I am about to enter. I couldn't ask you to abandon your parents and I could never ask you to give up your life and career. So, once again, I find myself alone, starting over. It seems to be the story of my life. In my new life, maybe I can find the completion to my life that has eluded me so far. My hope is that we someday find the happiness individually that we will not be able to continue to have together.

I Love You,

Callie

"No!!! THIS IS NOT OVER!" he yelled, "Callie, Sweetheart, why didn't you give me a choice in this? I promise I will find you if it takes the rest of my life."

Maria reported for work the following Monday, as scheduled, in the Procurement Office at the National Park. Within a week of starting the new job, she realized she didn't want to do this kind of work for the rest of her working days. Spending every day looking for the best deals on yellow paint, paper cups and other equally mundane items was unbearably boring compared to Peabody Strauss. She understood that she couldn't work at a brokerage firm, but there had to be something better, somewhere. She constantly looked for something more interesting. She stayed mostly to herself and tried to adapt to her new career. Soon after starting her new job, she made it a point to learn everything about the park and transferred to another staff at the Park to become an interpreter. That turned out to be almost as boring to her as procurement.

On Labor Day, 2003, Micah was alone at home and walked past Callie's door. He had kept it closed since she disappeared in early July. Two projects had taken him away from home from the middle of July through the end of August. It had been lonely at home when she first disappeared in July but worse when he was on the road when he knew Callie wouldn't be waiting for him back home. He had been home for about three days when he decided it was time to face up to reality and do something with her things. Initially, he vowed to move heaven and earth to find her, but after a few sleepless nights, he realized the futility of such an idea. The experts obviously felt like her life would be in danger if she didn't change her identity. Of course he missed her, but he accepted that life must go on. That brought him to this morning.

He turned the knob and eased the door open. One step into the room and the faint scent of her favorite perfume filled his nostrils. He took a deep breath, stepped over to the bed and sat down. "Where do I begin?" he asked himself. He looked around the room and decided the dresser might be a good place to start. Almost immediately he saw a need for boxes. He wondered if she kept any of the boxes from New York. He opened the closet door and saw the clothes she had not taken to Utah. On the top shelf he saw two small boxes which he had not noticed before. There were a few pairs of shoes on the floor but no boxes. Her camera case and three shopping bags filled with the things she had left behind in Utah sat on the bed beside him. He quickly lost interest in going through her things since he needed boxes. He decided to wait for another day, but the two little boxes on the shelf intrigued him so he took them down and carried them to the balcony.

He opened the first box and found mementos she had saved from childhood. Some were items that brought back his own memories of high school. He found it interesting that she kept the program from their class reunion. The contents of the second box completely changed everything. On top of the items in the second box was an envelope with his name on it.

He slit open the envelope and extracted a single sheet of lined notebook paper.

Dear Micah,

Something must have happened to me or you wouldn't be reading this note. After we found the storage unit in New York, I felt like I needed to make contingency arrangements. Life doesn't always follow the path you plan or expect. As you know, I rented a storage unit not far from your condo. You know the place. What you don't know is the number of the unit or the combination of the lock. You didn't want to know. You probably need to know now. Again, after our experience in New York, I decided to replace the pad lock with a combination lock. The combination is the first four digits of the numbers in the email addresses we used before I left New York. The unit is 201. I would like for you to have the things I have stored. The rent is paid through December 2005.

Callie

Of course he knew she kept all that cash in the storage unit so he dropped everything to drive to the storage facility. He stepped up to unit 201 with his heart pounding. He didn't know exactly what to expect inside. He stepped up to the door and examined the lock. He dialed in 3369 and pulled. The lock opened. He pulled up the door and stepped inside. To his surprise, he found a sealed envelope on top of one of the boxes. It was simply addressed,

TO: My Loving Prince

His heart began to race and his hands visibly shook as he opened the envelope. Once again, in Callie's handwriting he found a note.

July 8, 2003

Loving Prince,

In the back of my mind, I worried that I might have to leave you to protect you. Regrettably, it has happened. I'm so sorry I had to disappear. It was the only way to keep you and me safe. I took some of my goodies to make my new life a little easier, but I left you some too. Enjoy them. Enjoy your life.

XOXO

I'll Love You Forever

Your Sweet Girl

PS Don't believe everything you read in the newspaper.

He had to sit down on the floor for a few minutes to collect his thoughts. His Callie was okay. That was the important thing. He looked around the storage room for the plastic boxes with the trading cards. He opened the top one in the stack. On top of the cards was a piece of paper wrapped around the deposit slip he had seen before. The deposit slip showed $98,490. The other piece of paper said,

"Enjoy. I love you,

Sweet Girl."

He also discovered a newspaper from July 8, 2003. He read the headline, but smiled knowing it was just one more instance when they didn't get the story right. He put the lock back on the storage unit and drove home to figure out his next move.

Not long after she started to work, Maria traded her car for a late model pickup truck. She also bought a trailer and way before the date the rental agreement was to expire on her furniture, she was happy to call the furniture rental company to request that they come and pick it up. No one at work knew where she lived and she preferred it that way. They also didn't know her house was so sparsely furnished when she first moved to town. She first replaced the rental furniture and then furnished the rest of the house by purchasing new pieces for cash in surrounding towns and hauling them home in her old truck and trailer, covered by old tarps. If anyone ever noticed and commented on her high end furnishings, she planned to claim that she found them at estate and garage sales. Once or twice someone noticed her nice clothes and said something about them. She responded by claiming she purchased her clothes at high end consignment shops in Little Rock, but they were actually new too.

Four months after arriving in Hot Springs, she walked into the office at the Morris Pointe Hotel and Convention Center. "Hi, I'm Maria Sirelli. I would like to apply for the desk clerk job."

The Beginning

###

Preview of:

Stories from Morris Pointe: Book 4 Loves Lost and Found

Other books by Alton Brit:

Finding A New Normal

Stories from Morris Pointe: Book 1, Just Good Friends

Stories from Morris Pointe: Book 2, A Wedding Surprise

About the author:

After thirty-two years in the workforce, I took an early retirement. For twenty years, I wanted to try my hand at writing, but never had the time. Now that I'm retired, I split my time between writing and spoiling my granddaughter. I've always been able to spin a good yarn. Now I'm going to put some of them into my word processor and see what happens. My books are about regular people and how they respond to extraordinary situations and opportunities.

I hope you like my latest effort. I would like to hear from you.

Finding a New Normal

Stories from Morris Pointe: Book 1 Just Good Friends

Stories from Morris Pointe: Book 2 A Wedding Surprise

Connect with Me Online:

Twitter: http://twitter.com/altonbrit

Facebook: http://facebook.com/altonbrit

Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/altonbrit

My blog: http://altonbrit.blogspot.com

Preview of Stories from Morris Pointe: Book 4 Loves Lost and Found

Chapter 1

April 12, 2014

Sunday morning, Jack awoke to the sound of waves breaking on shore. He smiled. Liz had opened the door to the balcony of their penthouse sometime during the night. The room was already awash with sunshine. She had also opened the drapes. This morning was different than usual. Of course usual had only started on Friday morning. On the last two mornings he had awakened with either his arms wrapped around his new bride or wrapped up in her arms. When he reached out and didn't touch her he was instantly awake.

That was when he noticed other sounds. He heard the shower running and for a second he thought he heard singing or humming. He threw back the covers and got up to investigate. Sure enough, as he quietly stepped into the bathroom he heard the distinct sound of Liz humming. He quietly inched toward the shower. She was humming alright.

He gently knocked on the shower door. The humming stopped. In a couple seconds he heard an enthusiastic, "Come in."

He opened the door and stepped inside. "Do you always invite anyone that knocks, into your shower." He made no attempt to hide his lustful survey of his bride from head to toe.

She turned her back to the spray and soaped her arms even though she was almost finished with her shower when Jack finally showed up. "Silly man. I knew it was you. I saw you walk into the bathroom."

He continued to enjoy the scenery in the steamy shower. "I didn't know you liked to sing in the shower."

She grinned and began to check him out. She wasn't disappointed. "That's just one of many things you don't know about me."

"Is that so?"

She turned around and asked, "Would you like to do my back?" She held the soapy bath sponge over her shoulder for him.

He took the sponge and held her hand for a few seconds. "Among other things."

"Mr. Williams, you are a bad boy."

"You bring it out in me."

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her and began to rub the bath sponge in small circles on her stomach. His other hand began to slowly caress and tease her as well. The longer he rubbed, the larger the circles became. She was glad he had his arms around her to steady her. Her morning shower had never felt this good before.

She closed her eyes with pleasure and shifted so the shower spray rained down on her head. "I have just discovered something else that think I would like to do in the shower."

The slow lazy circles of the bath sponge continued. "What is that?"

"You."

"Is that so?"

"You know there isn't any soap left in that sponge."

He dropped the sponge, but continued to caress her body. He turned her around to face him and pulled her close for a kiss. Under the shower she still half expected to burst into flames. It had been such an unbelievable two weeks.

"Jack, I really need to wash my hair."

"Okay." He reached for the shampoo.

"Are you going to wash my hair?"

"I thought I might."

He made a production out of squeezing the shampoo into his hand. "Now turn around and step over a little this way."

She stepped away from the spray of the shower.

"Now, close your eyes and enjoy."

She closed her eyes and waited. Slowly he began to apply the shampoo.

"Excuse me."

"Yes?"

"That was not what I had in mind."

"I'm not surprised, but I think if you give me a chance, you will find this to be to your liking."

Her breath hitched. "I'm sure I will."

"Now let's rinse." He turned her back to the water and began to make sure she was thoroughly shampoo free.

"Oh, that is really good."

"I thought you might like it."

"Mmmmm. So good."

The soap was all gone but the massage continued.

"Oh, Jack. Where have you been all my life?"

"I've been looking for you." He kissed her neck.

She reached up and tugged his lips close. "I'm so glad you found me." She kissed him and seconds later, she breathlessly said, "I want you now."

"Are you sure?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. "I've never wanted anything more."

"I don't have protection. What if you get pregnant?"

"Are you kidding me, that ship sailed a long time ago."

In seconds she felt her back against the shower wall. She flinched. "Wow, that's cool."

"We can stop," he said.

"Don't you dare."

In seconds they each found the intimate pleasure they desired. It was raw and exciting and exhausting for a couple in their fifties. Later, the fires of passion continued to burn out of control as they stood, locked in each other's embrace under the spray of the shower. They had just paused to rest their lips when Liz noticed the water. "I think we are running out of hot water."

"Rats."

"Oh, Mr. Williams, you have such a coarse vocabulary."

"I am what I am, Mrs. Williams."

"I think we should take this to the bedroom."

"An excellent idea."

Liz turned off the shower. Jack opened the door and reached for a towel. He found two. He smiled. "Were you expecting me?"

She smirked. "I was almost a prune when you finally showed up. Why do you think we ran out of hot water?"

"You know, I really didn't get a shower."

"That's okay. We'll let the water get hot again while you get me hot again. Come on." She dropped her towel, took his towel from his hand and said, "Come on before we forget what we were doing."

As they returned to the bedroom he said, "There's no chance of that."

Forty-five minutes later, they had almost found pleasure again when Liz's phone rang. "Ignore it. It is probably one of the kids. They can call back."

Five minutes later Jack's phone rang. Liz frowned. "You might as well answer it."

"Hello," he said, trying to sound like he was reading the paper. Liz pulled up the sheet to cover herself.

"Hello, Lauren." There was a pause for a few seconds. She could hear a voice but couldn't tell what was being said. Jack smiled.

"Actually, I've been up for a while." He winked at Liz.

She playfully punched him in the arm and actually giggled.

"Sort of." Jack grinned at Liz again.

"I suppose we could." Liz frowned.

"Your mom and I still need to take a shower and get ready."

"We'll get ready and give you a call." Jack put the phone down and turned back to Liz.

"Okay, what's up?"

"That was Lauren. She and Gil want to meet us for breakfast before we go to the airport."

"That's nice."

"Now where were we?" He pulled the sheet down. "Oh, yes, I remember."

Thirty minutes later they were wrapped in one another's arms when Liz said, "We should probably start getting ready."

"Do we have to?" he whined.

"Yes dear, we have to." They both laughed.

"Do we have time for a quick shower?"

"As long as we can keep our hands to ourselves."

"I can't promise that, but I'll try to keep it to a minimum."

"That's good enough for me." Liz got out of bed and made a production of bending down to pick up her night gown. She then seductively walked to the bathroom.

"That's not helping." Jack shouted as she disappeared through the door.

She stuck her head around the corner and smiled. "I know." She opened the door to the shower and turned on the water. "You don't want to keep a girl waiting as long as you did last time."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be right there." Jack rolled out of bed and made a bee line for the shower.

She was already washing her hair when he stepped into the shower. She looked him squarely in the eye and said, "This time, keep your mind on the designated task and keep that thing away from me. If you don't, you'll get to explain to the kids why we never called them."

He laughed and began to soap up. "I'll try."

"You better do more than try."

They both laughed and began to soap up. Jack actually did wash Liz's back and she his, but they were able to contain their mutual lust for each other. For the next several minutes, they each pursued the business of showering in silence. When Jack reached for the shampoo, he asked, "You know, about the shower?"

She stopped rinsing her hair and turned to him. "What about it?"

He looked a little tentative and sheepish. She thought it looked cute. "I think I prefer the bed to the shower."

She smiled an embarrassed smile. "Me too. It was pretty hot though, wasn't it?"

He looked at her with passion and lust in his eyes. He shook his head and said, "Yes it was, but then again, you are always hot."

She smiled and took a deep breath and let it out. "Okay, I'm all done. I'm getting out of here before we forget ourselves again."

He smiled and nodded. "Good idea."

When he walked into the bedroom, she was talking on the phone. "Sure, ten o'clock sounds fine. Bye, Sweetie."

She put down the phone and walked toward him with her arms outstretched. "How about a hug and a kiss?"

He stopped and smiled. "I would love to, but with us both wrapped in towels, there might be a wardrobe malfunction and then where would we be?"

"You mean like this?" She playfully smiled, batted her eyelashes, reached up and tugged at the corner of the towel that was holding everything up. The towel slowly unwrapped and dropped to the floor. "Woops." She smiled. "I see yours came loose too."

Jack couldn't help himself. "How about a bare hug instead?"

"Works for me. Come over here."

As they hugged she turned him around and backed him up to the bed. She pushed him down and almost immediately he rolled her over so he was looking down into her eyes. "How are we ever going to make it, next week?"

She looked at him with a puzzled look. "What ever do you mean?"

He kissed her on the nose. "You will have to be at school by this time of the morning next week."

She pursed her lips together for a second. "You're right. I suppose we will just have to set the alarm extra early." She batted her eyes at him and smiled again.

"You have the sweetest smile."

"You make me feel so good."

"Won't getting up early make you feel tired and sleepy during the day?"

"I suppose it might, but we could take a nap as soon as I get home from school and then go to bed early. It won't be for long."

"I suppose we could do that. I like the way you think. By the way when will school be out?"

"Usually the first week of June. Why?"

"I was wondering how long it would be before I had you to myself for the whole day again."

"I might point out there are weekends."

"Good point."

"You know what?"

"What?"

"As bad as I hate to, we need to get up and get dressed."

"I'm already up."

"Don't you think I know that?"

He rolled over so she was on top.

"What did you do that for?"

"Two reasons. I want to make you make the first move to get up and I really like to look at you. You are so beautiful."

She reached across, picked up a pillow and dropped it on his head as she rolled off him and got out of bed. By the time he pushed the pillow aside, all he saw was her bare butt as she sprinted into the bathroom with her bra and panties in hand.

"Not fair," he called out behind her.

"I know, but we really need to hurry so we won't be late."

At 10:05 Jack and Liz walked into the hotel restaurant. They looked around and spotted Lauren and Gil in a booth by the window. They were both looking out at the beach and didn't see them approach.

"Good morning," Liz said as they slid into the booth across from their children.

Lauren looked at her watch and then looked at her dad with a hard stare. "We were beginning to wonder if you were going to make it."

"It's only five after."

Lauren turned to Gil. "This from the man that always told me that if I was on time I was late."

"Please forgive us. Gil, your mom distracted me this morning."

Gil smiled and looked at Lauren. "I know what you mean. I find myself distracted a lot these days." Liz and Lauren both turned a cute shade of pink.

It seemed that the women communicated with just a look. Liz asked, "Have you ordered yet?"

"No. We were waiting for you." Lauren answered as she and Liz conspired to channel the conversation toward breakfast.

The waiter appeared and took their order. As they waited for breakfast, the two newlywed couples began to discuss their week ahead.

"Dad, Gil starts his new job Tuesday, Liz and I are going back to work tomorrow. What do you have planned for your first day of retirement?"

"Well, actually I will be on vacation until we fly back to Raleigh on the first of May to do the paperwork to officially start my retirement."

"So what are you going to do on your first day of vacation in Oregon?"

"I don't know."

"Don't worry, I'll keep you busy."

Jack raised his eyebrows and winked. "I like the sound of that."

"Dad, seriously."

Liz spoke up. "My friend Gloria is going to meet us at the airport. Remember Les and I took his car to the airport. It's going to be interesting when she sees your dad." She looked to Lauren and smiled.

Jack looked surprised. "You haven't told her?"

"No. I thought I would surprise her."

"That will be some surprise. She may kill you."

Gil laughed. "I wish I could be there to see the look on her face." Gil turned to Lauren. "Those two have been best friends forever. So, Mom, it's been an exciting two weeks for you. You flew to Miami with Les for our wedding." He turned and kissed his bride. "You met your old high school flame that just happened to be my fiancee's father, and you guys got married five days after our wedding."

Gil turned to Jack. "I have to hand it to you. Jack, you work fast."

Jack turned to Liz. "Gil, I was separated from your mom once and I don't ever plan to let it happen again. Besides we have a lot of catching up to do. I lost her for almost forty years."

"Mom," Gil asked, "what about Les?"

His mom looked at Jack and said, "I suppose it's possible that I may someday see him again, but I don't plan to go looking for him."

The food arrived and they ate. After breakfast they decided to meet in the lobby at noon to say their goodbyes before leaving for the airport.

Liz and Jack were still in flight when Gil and Lauren's flight landed in Little Rock. The limo with Gil and Lauren arrived at their apartment a few minutes after seven. Anthony jumped from his driver's seat as soon as the car stopped and ran around to open the door.

"Welcome home Mr. and Mrs Stone."

Gil climbed out of the car followed by Lauren. They looked tired and disheveled. Tony unloaded the luggage and set it by the curb. Lauren picked up one of the bags and walked to the stairs. She was in the door of the apartment when the next door neighbor's door flew open and Audrey came bounding out. She yelled, "Hi, Gil!" Then she turned and ran into their apartment through the door Lauren had left open for Gil.

Gil paid and tipped the driver and he was soon on his way. He stood and watched as the limousine disappeared down the highway. When he turned around, he met the smiling face of Brad Turner. "Can I give you a hand with those bags?"

Gil smiled a relieved smile. "You sure can. I didn't hear you come down."

"Hey, the housekeeping staff says I'm pretty sneaky."

"Is that so? I'm sure glad you're here."

They each picked up three bags and headed to the stairs. When they walked through the door, Audrey said, "Brad, you aren't going to believe all the things that happened after we left."

Gil looked back at Brad as his friend slowed and appeared to be ready to put the suitcases down. "Hey buddy, don't put those things down, yet. Bring them on back here." Gil continued to the master bedroom and put down his burden. Brad followed. The men returned to the living room and Audrey turned to Brad. "Lauren, Gil, we want to take you to dinner, if you are up for it tonight."

Gil and Lauren exchanged a look. Gil said, "I'm really tired."

Lauren gave him a hopeful look. "We really don't have any food in the apartment."

Gil smiled. "Like I said, we would love to."

They all laughed. "Where would you like to go?" Audrey asked.

"I'm not ready to go back to the Terrace yet and I'm not ready to start working at the Gaslight yet. Any place else is okay with me."

"How about Pizza?"

Gil and Lauren exchanged a look and nodded. "Pizza works for us," Lauren answered for both of them. She took his hand and started walking to the door.

Gil turned around. "Come on guys."

As Jack and Liz stood at the baggage carousel waiting for their bags, Gloria stepped up beside Liz and all but elbowed Jack out of the way. She hugged her best friend. "Welcome home, Liz."

Liz looked over Gloria's shoulder and winked at Jack.

He quickly slid away from the carousel to avoid Gloria as she stepped backward with Liz's hands in hers. "You look fabulous. I see you were able to work on your tan while you were gone."

Liz smiled. "I did."

Suddenly Gloria froze and stared into Liz's eyes. Slowly she looked down and lifted her friend's left hand. "Elizabeth Ann Stone, what is this?" She paused for a second. "What have you done?"

Liz looked at her friend and smiled. "Well, it's kind of a long story. I think maybe I should start by introducing you to my husband."

Gloria dropped Liz's hands. "Your what? Girl, I repeat myself. What have you done?"

Liz smiled and stepped around her friend. She grinned at Jack and put her arm around him. "Gloria, I would like for you to meet my husband, Jack Williams. Jack, I would like for you to meet my best friend in the world, Gloria Anderson."

Gloria looked from Jack, to Liz and back to Jack. She pursed her lips. She looked him up and down and then turned to her friend and smiled. "He certainly looks like a keeper." She hugged both of them and said, "Let me check out that ring."

Liz held up her hand for inspection. Gloria looked it over and turned to Jack and smiled. "You did real good Jack. By the way, I've never seen her look happier."

"Thank you. Actually she picked it out."

"But you had to give her the choices."

He smiled. "I suppose you have a point." He pointed to the carousel. "Here comes the first of our bags. I better get it." He stepped over to the carousel.

Gloria pulled Liz aside. "Girl, if he is half as good as he looks, you have done well for yourself."

"Gloria, he is the real thing. I am so happy."

She hugged her again. "I can tell. It is written all over your face."

All the bags were loaded on a cart in five minutes and in Gloria's car in another twenty. They were soon on their way home.

After they ordered pizzas, Audrey said, "Tell us about your honeymoon. What all fun stuff did you guys do?"

Brad chuckled and Audrey looked embarrassed. "I mean other than the obvious."

Lauren looked at Gil and then back to their friends. "You are not going to believe it."

"What?"

"Okay, so you know by Saturday night at the wedding we all noticed Dad and Liz were getting pretty chummy."

"Okay."

"Well, on Wednesday we ran into them on the beach."

"Both of them, together?"

"Yes."

"No way."

"We couldn't believe it either. Around noon on Wednesday, I thought I saw Dad. Later that afternoon we ran into them on the beach. We found out that they decided to stay on in Miami for another week."

"They have quite a story. Dad actually told me about him and Liz when he was here at Thanksgiving. They went to high school together. We had no idea that they were long lost high school sweethearts. They fell in love at 16 and then Jack's family moved away after school was out that year and they never saw each other again."

Lauren continued. "That is, until they got to Miami."

Brad asked, "So what are they going to do?"

"They are planning to live happily ever after. They got married Thursday."

Audrey looked at Brad. "I told you after the wedding there was something going on with those two."

Brad laughed and said, "Maria is going to be devastated."

Lauren said, "I don't really think so. I think she knew she was pretty well out of the picture by Thursday night. Changing the subject, what have we missed around here while we've been gone?"

Brad said, "There is a new manager at the Terrace, as of last Thursday."

"That didn't take long."

"No it didn't. I think CJ will be okay."

"What's he like?" Lauren asked.

"You mean she. Lauren, I think you will like Cathy Jo."

"Alright!"

Audrey asked, "Have you guys heard from Clay or Lucy this week?"

Lauren shook her head. "No, have you?"

"I was just thinking they seemed to be getting along rather well at the wedding. Do they know about Jack and Liz yet?"

"I'm sure they don't. We haven't talked to either of them since the wedding."

Monday morning, when Maria got to the office a few minutes before eight o'clock, Lauren was already working at her desk. "Good morning, Mrs. Stone," she said and waved at Lauren through her open door.

Lauren looked up and smiled. "Okay, let's get this straight, right now." She pushed her chair back from her desk and walked into Maria's office. "Maria, I'm still Lauren when we are by ourselves in this office or with friends."

"Got it boss." She grinned. "How about a hug?"

They two women shared a hug. Maria backed up a step. "You look great. Marriage appears to agree with you."

"That is absolutely right."

"So, you had a good honeymoon?"

"The best. I just don't want it to ever end."

Maria smiled. "I am so happy for you."

"Thanks. Okay, this morning I'm going to need to get you to bring me up to speed on everything that happened while I was gone and we need to get organized for the week. I'm sure there is a pile of mail to sort and read. You just got here. When you get settled and get a cup of coffee, come on into my office and we will get started." Lauren went to her desk and logged in to her computer to look at her email.

In a few minutes, Maria sat down at Lauren's work table. When Lauren looked up she noticed that Maria's whole demeanor had changed in five minutes.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Look, we've been working together too long for me to believe there isn't something bothering you."

"I sometimes wonder if I'm destined to live my life alone."

Lauren suddenly felt sad too. "Don't give up. You'll find your special man someday. You know when Gil and I found each other I don't think either one of us was seriously looking for love. Sure, I was looking for someone to enjoy being around, but I had no idea that I would be married less than a year later."

"I don't know. I think I found him already and then let him go. I just walked away."

"What? You've never mentioned anyone to me."

"I don't talk about it." She paused like she was trying to make up her mind about saying more. Then her expression changed and she switched to business. "There _was_ quite a bit of activity around here while you were gone."

Lauren decided to let her comment go. "I heard there is a new manager at the Terrace."

"There is." Maria nodded. "She started last Thursday. Her name is Cathy Jo Stockton."

"How does everyone like her?"

"The guys I've talked to on that side of the house seem to like her alright. I've spoken to her a few times and she seems okay."

"I'll have to get over and meet her this morning."

"To be honest, I was hoping Dawson Crane would get the job. I got the idea that he was going to check into the job. I wonder now if he even tried to get it. When we were in Miami, I got the idea Dawson might be interested in coming back to Arkansas. I even thought we were making a connection, but now I wonder if I would recognize a romantic connection if it bit me on the nose."

"If you would like, I can ask if Dawson put in for job."

"No, don't do that. I would rather believe that he just didn't get selected."

"There is something I should probably tell you."

"What?"

"I'm sure you noticed that Dad and Liz seemed to hit it off in Miami."

"Yeah, who could miss it?"

"You're not going to believe this, but we ran into them on the beach on Wednesday."

"You're kidding."

"No, they decided to stay on for another week. It turns out that they figured out that they were long lost high school sweethearts."

"So she was the one."

"What do you mean?"

"Liz was the true love that he has been measuring every woman against for all these years."

"Did he tell you about her too?"

"No, not in so many words. Had he told you about her?"

"At Thanksgiving he told me about his long lost Beth Ann, but I never dreamed that Liz could be her."

Maria began to smile. "It is great that they found each other. What are they going to do now?"

Lauren grinned. "Let me put it this way. My mother-in-law is also my stepmother."

"Are you kidding me?"

"No. They got married Thursday on the same beach where Gil and I got married. Dad went home to Oregon with Liz. He is going to take vacation until they can both fly to Raleigh for him to officially retire."

"That is wonderful. I'll have to call and congratulate them."

Lauren laughed. "That is not quite the reaction I expected."

Maria got serious again. "It gives me hope."

