Chapter 2 #2
Warm hardwood floors gave way to plush carpeting beneath her feet as Julie made her way to the window seat and sat down on its edge.
She took in the familiar view below, the landscape’s pristine blanket of snow shining bright in the late morning sunshine.
A gently sloping yard bowed before rolling hills in the distance, and the horizon spoke of mountains tinted purple by the tilt of the earth itself.
Julie leaned forward and pressed her forehead to the cold glass, allowing her eyes to close in recognition of the peace she felt in this place.
This room had been hers when she lived with Gwen, and she acknowledged it for the haven that it was both then and now. It was ironic to be comforted by these walls after years of avoiding the solace they so freely afforded. Julie had not been here once in the time since college.
Vermont reminded Julie of the darkest time in her life—her own despair over her father’s disappearance.
Here lay the ashes from which she had risen like a phoenix, and only another fire could have brought her back again.
In this place she was the daughter of a traitor, stalked by the media and villainized by the Navy officers who continued to interrogate Julie long after her father escaped their influence.
Her return to Vermont had been determined the moment Hank Jared set foot in her office.
Last night, Gwen listened intently as Julie told her about the fire that killed her father.
She thought of it now, picturing the scene as if she witnessed its deadly fingers reaching to destroy her ultimate hope—that her father would some day return to her and to his rightful place in her life.
Opening her eyes, Julie was surprised to realize that there were no tears on her face, as if the well of grief had simply gone dry from her great gulps at its waters in the last two days. She touched her cheeks with her hands and marveled at their normal texture, dry and soft.
The reality that life continues despite tragedy was both an odd comfort and a bad joke that rubbed at her and made her chafe on a spot that was already raw.
Julie had stumbled into bed last night after talking to Gwen until the wee hours of the morning.
Now she looked around the familiar room and saw it had been transformed.
The antique furniture that had been painted a bold coral when Julie lived here now matched the pale yellow of the fluffy towel on her head.
Bed linens of turquoise and bright yellow toile seemed to hum in their bold contrast to the muted blue of the walls.
A bulky duvet was wrapped in a lemony fabric that felt like the softest bunny, and the pineapples atop the four posts of the bed had been gloriously decorated in hammered gold and blue glass.
Walking to the bed, she again sank into its inviting depths. She pulled the duvet over her robed body and closed her eyes, wishing for the sleep that she suspected would not come.
She willed her mind to think of something else. An image of the sexy Navy officer filled her head. Hank Jared. Even his name was sexy. She remembered what he smelled like—pungent soap and something exquisitely male. Her knees almost buckled when her eyes had first locked with his.
A knock at the door disrupted her reverie. “Come in.”
Gwen handed her the phone. “It’s Becky.”
“Hey, what’s up?” said Julie.
“I’m at your place. I came to feed Sammy like you asked, and Jules, someone’s been here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, someone broke into your condo. It’s pretty bad. Your dresser drawers have all been dumped out onto the floor, and the kitchen cabinets are open and everything’s messed up.”
“Someone broke into my condo?” She sat upright in bed. A cat meowed on the other end of the phone. “Is Sammy okay?”
“Yeah, he’s fine. He was locked in a closet and none too happy about it. He’s okay now.”
“Did they steal anything?” In her mind, Julie ran through a list of her valuables, most of them electronics, and most of them with her on this trip.
“I don’t see your laptop or your iPod.”
“They’re with me. Becky, do you think Greg…” Julie let her voice trail off, not wanting to say the words out loud.
“I know, he was my first thought, too. Was he upset when you dumped him?”
“He never called me back. I just figured he got the message and wanted to avoid the whole conversation.”
“It looks like he was upset.”
“Yeah. Looks like.” Julie realized Gwen was watching her, her eyes questioning. “Someone broke into my condo and trashed the place.” She choked on an unexpected sob as she said the words, covering her mouth with her hand.
Gwen sat and touched her shoulder. “That officer said you might be in danger.”
“It’s just some loser boyfriend I dumped last week, Gwen. Either that, or some neighborhood kids up to no good...”
“I don’t think so, Julie.” Julie looked into Gwen’s eyes, and what she saw there sent a chill down her spine. Gwen had a sixth sense about some things, and Julie had learned long ago to listen when her aunt spoke with this quiet authority.
“Uh, oh,” said Becky into Julie’s ear.
“I feel a darkness. I don’t want to scare you, but there’s evil here.” She held Julie’s eyes as tightly as she held her hand, wishing to impart strength to her niece at this time. “Did the ex-boyfriend have a darkness about him?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” said Julie.
“Well, I would,” chimed Becky. “Tell Gwen that I would, Jules. Tell her.”
“He gave Becky the creeps.”
“So maybe it is the boyfriend, then. Or it might have something to do with your father’s murder.”
That possibility was feeling very real to Julie.
“Perhaps it’s time to call the Navy officer who came to see you in Boston. It will give you a chance to get a look at that encrypted message from the safe deposit box, too,” said Gwen.
“I don’t want to see the message.”
Gwen turned exasperated eyes to her niece. “Your father finally wrote you a letter after all these years, and you’re not even going to read it?”
Jingle Bell Rock played on the car radio, but Hank wasn’t listening.
A knot had settled in the valley between his shoulder blades, and he tried to stretch his arm across the steering wheel to release the tension.
The lines on the pavement slid by in hypnotic straights and curves as his mind tried to make sense of the last several days.
Johnson had hit it out of the park before Hank even realized something was wrong. Given what I know about this scene, I wouldn’t even know who to call, but the U.S. Navy is here, and I’m trying to figure out why.
Hank didn’t like playing catch-up. Someone knew the body in the motel room was Commander McDowell before he was called to the scene like a puppet. Admiral Barstow had been the one to send Hank there, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was the one pulling the strings.
Hank dialed his commanding officer.
Formidable and unconcerned with niceties, the admiral exerted his influence skillfully over those under his command. Hank was one of the few who remained unaffected by the other man’s demeanor, and suspected he had earned the admiral’s begrudging respect.
“What do you have for me?” said Barstow.
“The motel fire was deliberately set to cover up a murder, sir,” said Hank.
“Whose murder?”
“It seems the body is that of Commander John McDowell.”
The line was silent, and Hank resisted the urge to speak to fill the void. If his suspicions were correct, the admiral was already well aware of who had died in that fire.
“What makes you believe the body is McDowell?”
Hank told him about the ring, the safe deposit box, Julie Trueblood and the cipher. “Dental x-rays were sent in for positive identification.”
“A lot of good that will do.”
“Sir?”
“All of McDowell’s service records are gone, from his basic personnel file to the data from his last assignment,” said the admiral. “Including his dental records.”
Hank was stunned. It was no small feat to make someone’s entire military existence disappear. “What happened to them?”
“They were deleted from our computer system, either by someone in the Navy with the clearance to do so, or by someone who hacked into that computer system.”
“People can actually hack into the Navy’s computers?”
“Computer gurus with exceptional code breaking knowledge and expertise,” said the admiral. He pronounced guru like it had quotation marks around it. “Someone like McDowell’s daughter.”
“Is she that good?”
“McDowell was one of the best cryptologists the Navy has ever seen, but the daughter was rumored to be some kind of prodigy. McDowell bragged she was better than he would ever be. Then she grew up and got herself a degree in mathematics and computer science.”
“That’s why the Navy kept interrogating her when her father disappeared. If she sympathized with him, she was a threat to national security just like he was.”
“Yes. And it’s why the Navy has kept tabs on her all these years, no matter what she wants to call herself.”
Hank didn’t allow himself to consider his next words. “You knew it was McDowell in that motel.”
“We got an anonymous tip.”
“An anonymous tip,” Hank repeated. The sheer convenience of such a tip made it suspect.
“A voicemail left on my line. It said we’d find McDowell and his last secret.”
“The message from the safe deposit box.”
“Yes. Send me a copy of it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you get Julie Trueblood to decipher it, Jared. If anyone can, it’s her.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” As Hank hung up the phone, he steered his SUV onto the exit ramp.
According to his GPS, he was less than half an hour from Gwen Trueblood’s house in Vermont.
He had been about to head to the airport for his flight back to Jacksonville when Julie phoned and told him about the break-in.
He had offered to come out, and she had quickly accepted.
It wasn’t like Hank to keep things from his commanding officer.
“Sometimes, you’ve got to trust your gut,” he said to himself.