A Scarlet Cord (32 page)

Toliver cleared his throat. “It’s a tight case, Joe—um, Joel. From the top down, everyone’s confident you’re home free. Enjoy it.”

Denton handed him yet another collection of papers. “There’s some information here that’ll help with the adjustment. Most people in your shoes make a pretty smooth transition.”

For the next twenty minutes the marshal answered Joel’s halting questions. Finally he snapped the briefcase shut and stood to leave. Toliver followed suit.

“You call that number if you have questions.” Denton indicated the sheaf of papers they’d left on the coffee table. He and Toliver went to the door, shook Joel’s hand in turn, and stepped off the porch, leaving him to absorb the news.

The Continental 747 glided onto the runway at Newark International and rolled torpidly toward the terminal gate. Finally, the
seat-belt light flickered off, and Melanie reached over to help Jerica unbuckle. “You can stand up and stretch a little, but let’s wait until the aisle clears out,” she told her daughter.

Jerica scrambled to her knees in the seat, turning to rest her chin on the high seat back behind her. “Are all these people going to Uncle Matt and Aunt Karly’s house?” she asked, eyes as wide as the open cabin windows that overlooked the tarmac.

Melanie laughed. “No, sweetie. Just us.”

“Then hows come they all came on our airplane?”

“Well, they’re probably visiting other people who live close to Uncle Matt,” she explained.

Jerica watched for another minute. “How much longer?”

“Just a couple of minutes. We need to get your sweater out of the carry-on bag. It’s colder here than it was back home.” Outside the window, she could see the steamy breaths of the ground crew as they worked to unload the luggage.

Melanie waited for the stragglers from the back of the plane, then stepped into the aisle and gathered their belongings from the overhead compartment. She unzipped the flight case, found Jerica’s sweater, and helped her put it on. As they left the plane and made their way to the baggage claim, the little girl chattered away about her cousins and all the things she intended to do while they were in New Jersey.

After they collected their bags, Melanie steered Jerica to the car rental desk. While she filled out the paperwork, Jerica tugged on her jacket. “Where’s Uncle Matt, Mommy? And Brock and Jace?”

“Shhh. Just a minute, Jer. Mommy’s trying to concentrate.” She finished signing the rental forms and knelt to explain. “I told Uncle Matt that we’d rent a car and drive to their house this time. I didn’t want him to have to leave Aunt Karly to come and get us. The baby could come any day now, so they need to stay close by the hospital.”

They got caught in rush hour traffic, and by the time she and Jerica pulled into the Masons’ driveway, it was nearly suppertime. Brock and Jace came racing around the side of the house to greet
them, sweaty and grimy, typical little boys. Jerica squealed with delight when she saw her cousins, and she scrambled over the backseat and out her mother’s door.

Karly waddled out the front door, and she and Melanie embraced—or at least they tried to over the mound of baby. Melanie held her friend at arm’s length. “Karly! You’re big as a barn!”

“Gee, thanks,” her sister-in-law laughed.

“You know what I mean. Are you just miserable?”

“A little,” Karly admitted. “But it’ll be worth it. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. Oh, Mel, I’m so glad you’re here. Come on in.”

Leaving the luggage in the trunk of the rental car, the five of them went up the steps and into the Masons’ sprawling split-level.

Karly put Melanie to work slicing carrots for a salad while the boys dragged Jerica off to meet the neighborhood kids.

“Don’t be too long, Brock,” Karly hollered after them. “Dad will be home in half an hour and we’re going to eat right away.” Her warning was lost in the slam of the screen door.

“So, how are you doing, Mel?” her friend asked, as quiet settled over the house. Karly lifted the lid from a pot of spaghetti sauce that sat simmering on the stovetop and stirred it with a large wooden spoon. The kitchen filled with its savory fragrance.

“We’re doing okay. It’s … it’s been hard. I won’t say it hasn’t.”

“I can’t even imagine. You must still wonder … what happened. Where Joel is now.”

Melanie picked up a large carrot and sliced furiously, not wanting to meet Karly’s gaze. She merely nodded, afraid words would give way to tears.

“Have you … dated anyone else, Mel?”

“No!” It came out harsher than she’d intended. It was an effort to change her tone. “No, Karly. I’m … not ready for that. I’m not sure I ever will be.”

“Of course you will! Oh, Mel … don’t wait too long.”

She shook her head. “No, Karly. All … all my dreams died with
Joel. There isn’t anyone else out there for me. I don’t think I … could ever really trust anyone again.”

“Oh, Mel … don’t say that.” Karly tapped the spoon clean on the lip of the pot and replaced the lid, then came to Melanie’s side and put a hand on her shoulder. “There are a lot of wonderful men out there.”

Melanie looked at the floor and shook her head.

“Just think of all the great men in your life … Matt and Jerry … and your pastor … I forget his name. Don?”

She nodded.

“Mel, there is someone for you. I just know it. Don’t let this make you bitter.”

Melanie swallowed back the tears and risked looking Karly in the eye now. Her friend had enough to think about without worrying over Melanie’s problems. “Hey, I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me. It’s just going to take some time …”

A twinkle came to Karly’s eye. “Well, you know what they say, don’t you?”

Melanie shook her head, waiting for the punch line.

Karly giggled. “Men are like wet firecrackers. Just when you think every last one is a dud, you come across a good one.”

“Yeah … and just hope it doesn’t blow up in your face.”

“Ooh, touché,” Karly said with a comical grimace.

Melanie turned to give her an appreciative hug. It was a comfort to laugh and joke with her best friend. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed her long-time confidante until this moment. And with the new baby on the way, this was a time full of hope and promise for her brother’s family. She wasn’t going to ruin it with her melancholy outlook. Standing there in the warmth of the Masons’ kitchen, she resolved to put aside her own unhappiness and focus on enjoying this special time with people who meant the world to her.

Twenty-Seven

Joel watched Toliver and the marshal drive off, then went back into the house and dialed Tim’s office, scribbling meaningless shapes on a notepad while he waited for the receptionist to put him through.

“This is Tim Bradford.” His brother had on his no-nonsense business voice.

“Tim? Hi, it’s me.”

“Joe … Joel, what’s up?”

“You won’t believe it … I’m out …”

“What?”

“I’m out of the program.”

“Again? What happened?”

Joel recounted Toliver’s visit. “So now that Difinni is behind bars, they don’t think I’m in any danger,” he concluded.

Tim was silent on his end. “Do you believe them?” he asked finally.

“I don’t really have a choice, Tim. I’m out. They didn’t lay out many options.”

“So what
are
your options? You can’t go back to being Joe Bradford.”

Joel had already pondered that. “No. Joe Bradford is dead. I’m proud of our family name, our heritage. Giving my name up was one of the hardest things about disappearing in the beginning. But—
Well, I like my job at the school. I think I’ll probably stay there for a while, and I have no desire to get into all this with them.”

“I can understand that,” Tim replied. “So you … can keep your identity? As Joel Ellington.”

“Yes. But I figure it won’t hurt anything to lay low for a while. Stay where I am, play it safe. I’d rather not take any chances just in case Difinni’s got a vengeful streak … just in case he still has friends out there. It’s been a pretty good cover. I haven’t had anyone looking for me …”

“Joe … actually there was—” Tim stopped abruptly, as though he had suddenly changed his mind about what he was going to say.

“What, Tim? What is it?”

It remained silent on the other end of the line. He could almost hear his brother collecting his thoughts, sorting out what to say. Finally Tim sighed. “Somebody
is
looking for you.”

“What do you mean?” He didn’t like the tone of Tim’s voice.

“Melanie LaSalle came into my office a few weeks ago.”

“Melanie?” The name struck him like a thunderbolt.

“Yeah, she tracked me down somehow. She was showing a snapshot around … one of those she took of us at that festival when I came to see you in Silver Creek.”

He wondered how much erratic beating a man’s heart could take before suffering permanent damage. “What did she want?

“She asked if I knew whether you took the money that was missing from the church.”

“What did you tell her?” He held his breath.

“I didn’t tell her anything, Joe. I just told her that I couldn’t talk to her about you and that she had to stop looking for you. She said … something about needing to go on with her life, but she couldn’t do that until she knew what had happened.”

So that’s the way it is, then. She wants to forget me, wants to move on
.

“You didn’t tell me you saw her.” Tim waited, accusation in his voice.

“Yes … in New York. We didn’t talk. She … was with someone else.”

“Oh.” Tim cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Joe.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I’m … glad. She should go on with her life. She deserves that.” Joel had covered the notepad in front of him with harsh geometric figures traced over and over again until the pencil lines cut through to the sheet below.

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

Anger crept into Joel’s voice. “Should I be happy about it? I loved her, Tim … with all my heart. If I’m honest with myself, I’m still in love with her.”

“Then tell her.”

“No!” He hadn’t meant to shout. “I’m sorry. But … that part of my life is over. I can’t go through this again, Tim. And like she told you, she needs to get on with her life. I’ve hurt her enough … hurt her little girl enough too.” A lump lodged in his throat, and silence again filled the wires between them. He wasn’t sure he was ready to accept the things he was telling his brother. It still hurt even to utter Melanie’s name. “It’s time I let it go. No sense complicating things any more.”

“She thinks you took the money from the church, Joe. At least you could set that straight.”

He shook his head vigorously, though he knew that, across the wires, the action was lost on his brother. “No, Tim. Let it lie. What purpose would it serve?”

“It would clear your name. At least with Melanie.”

“And then she’d have to wonder all over again about why I left. No … let it lie,” he repeated.

“I … I’m sorry about all this, Joe. If there’s anything I can do, you know you just have to call me.”

“I know that. Thanks, Tim.”

They said their good-byes and hung up. Joel slumped over the desk, raking his fingers through his hair. They’d preached at the WITSEC orientation that the adjustment going into the program
was horrendous—often almost too great to be borne. He’d experienced that and knew it was true. But Harvey Denton had said that most people made the adjustment out of the program without difficulty. He wasn’t so sure.

A picture formed in his mind—the glimpse of Melanie he’d had in front of Port Authority that cold November day. A picture of her, laughing in the arms of another man. That day he had forfeited any right to a life with her again. His freedom now did not negate that fact. Still, the truth of his loss sent a chill of despair down his spine.

Over the next few days, Joel went through the motions. He showed up at school each day and walked back to his apartment each night. He rarely left the house otherwise. And if he slept, he dreamed of flames and gunshots, of Victoria’s tears and Melanie’s. Waking or sleeping, his mind conjured menacing images and bizarre scenarios that had no basis in any real threat. He was out. He was free. Why couldn’t he get his subconscious mind to believe that? Why did he so often wake to his own hot teardrops seeping from under swollen eyelids?