Brainstorm (22 page)

I spent a few days looking for a dress suitable for standing
in front of a JP and went shopping with Lisa for hers. I found a sleeveless,
knee-length, off-white silk dress with a bit of lace at the neck. It was fitted
at the waist and then flared to a full skirt. Within an hour of the purchase
I’d found shoes to go with it.

Lisa’s dress was also sleeveless and knee-length. She’d
picked a soft green, perfect for the time of year, and one she could wear
again. We spent some time at the florist, whose shop was located on the other
side of her salon, ordering her flowers and mine. I picked a mixture of pink,
white, and yellow tulips, tied with an off-white silk ribbon. Lisa’s bouquet
was of pale pink tulips, tied with a dark green ribbon. We giggled like school
girls and I realized I was genuinely excited about marrying Jack. I ordered two
small boutonnieres, just in case he and Matt showed up in suits.

Three days before the wedding, Jack called to tell me
he’d found a perfect spot for the ceremony at Green Lakes State Park, about
20-minutes away, and a judge - the officiant who would meet us there at 3 p.m.
on the appointed day. The location was ideal; a setting with glacial lakes,
surrounded by plush, upland forest. Things were coming together.

With only three days to go, I motivated myself to get the
office totally cleaned out, with the exception of the mess the police had made
upstairs; the landlord could talk to them about that. I rented a storage unit
and made several trips with Nelly loaded to the gills. By dinnertime, even the
boxes from my apartment were stacked and locked in their new, hopefully
temporary, home.
 
I thought about putting
the main pieces to the curb, since Jack’s house was fully furnished, but then
hesitated, thinking about the apartment that would soon be mine. I would need
them; my sofa and chair, my bed, my kitchen table, my TV; all the big stuff. I
called a moving company and made arrangements for them to move it all into
storage while we were on our honeymoon. Then I called and rented a second,
larger unit, with instructions to allow the moving company to gain access.

With the dress and flower shopping sprees over, I’d begun
to feel a little nauseous thinking about getting married. Not so much for
myself, but for Jack. He was so much like Eddie; he would love me, and care for
me – he’d end up living his life for me. What if he had to eventually quit the
force because I took up so much of his time? He’d no longer be able to afford
the house he so clearly loved. Where would we live? Would we end up on welfare
with neither of us working? I couldn’t do that to him. I just couldn’t.

I began to dabble in excuses as to why I couldn’t marry
him, but nothing that he would believe came to mind. I began to panic. Could I
run away? Should I have gone with Harley in the first place? We could have
taken off for parts unknown if I hadn’t been working with the police. Jack had
given me a list of reasons why I shouldn’t go with her – sane reasons, and at
the time they sounded solid to me. But now, I thought that if I’d gone through
with Harley’s plan, and not been swayed by Jack and his proposal (or gotten out
of my apartment before he showed up that day), I would be on the run, sure, but
maybe my mind might be right. I looked at my engagement ring. It no longer
seemed like a promise. It seemed like a threat. But not to me. To Jack.

My cell phone rang and it was Lisa, asking if I felt like
meeting her for dinner. Wanting to rid myself of this foul mood, I agreed to
meet her downstairs at the bar. By the time I got there, two frosty glasses of
beer were being served.

“Man,” I said, “you’re quick.”

“I was already here when I called you,” she laughed.

“Well, I need this big time,” I said, picking up my
glass.

“Why?” she asked. “What happened to the great mood you
were in? The mood you’re still supposed be in? Come on! You’re getting
married!”

“Oh, my God, Lisa, I don’t have a wedding ring for Jack!
How could something like that have slipped my mind?”

“Does he have one for you?”

“I don’t know – he must have. I don’t even know what size
he wears.”

“Call him,” she said. “Ask if he wants one. Some guys
don’t.”

I nodded and pulled out my cell. I listened until the
call went to voice mail. Crap. After the beep, I left a brief question: “Jack,
do you want a wedding band? If so, what size?”

Lisa and I had finished dinner by the time he called
back. “Of course I want wedding band. We just never talked about it, and I
didn’t know if you could afford one, or if you’d let me pay for both of them.
It was kind of a dicey thing, so I just let it go.”

“Do you know what size you wear?” I asked, not really
surprised that he’d said he wanted to wear one right off the bat.

“I do. I had the jeweler size my finger when I bought
your engagement ring. It’s an 11.”

“Do you want yellow or white gold? Or platinum?” I prayed
it wasn’t the latter; a wedding band in that metal would probably take every
nickel I had.

“Surprise me.”

“It’s getting closer,” I said, “any second thoughts?” Was
I hoping he’d say yes?

“Not a one,” he said.

The day was warm, the sun was shining, and Lisa knocked on
the door, ready to help me get dressed for my big day. I was a wreck, but had finally
reconciled myself to going through with the wedding and convinced myself that I
was happy about it. I loved Jack. And I was better with him than without him.

“You look beautiful!” I told her, as she breezed through
the door in her maid of honor outfit. “That dress was a great choice. I like it
even better today than when you picked it out!”

“Your turn,” she said, and she unzipped the dress bag and
pulled out mine.

“Oh,” I cried, “I’d already forgotten how gorgeous it
is.”

“Go finish your makeup first,” she said. “You don’t want
to drop your lipstick on it and I can see your hands shaking.”

“Don’t say that – it will make me more nervous than I
already am!” I went into the bathroom and put on what little makeup I planned
to wear, and then came back out to where she was standing, holding my dress.

“Okay, let’s get you into this!” Lisa zipped and
buttoned, fluffed my hair, put my shoes on the floor in front of me, and when I
slipped them on, pronounced me ready. “Do you have Jack’s ring?”

“Right over there with our flowers,” I said, pointing to
the kitchen table.

She opened the box. “Oh, Audrey, this must have cost you
a fortune!”

“No kidding,” I said, “but he’s going to wear it for a
long time, so I went for it.”

A car door slammed outside and Lisa went to the window.
“Audrey, come here!”

A white limousine had pulled up in front of the
apartment. The driver got out and waited by the door we would use to get in. “I
can’t believe Jack did that!” I said. Excitement bubbled up inside me and I felt
a tear slip down my cheek. We gathered our purses, locked the door behind us,
and headed down to the limo that would deliver me to the spot where I would
start my new life.

Following a winding roadway inside the park, the limo headed
down a path that looked like it had seen more foot traffic than motorized, and
I began to wonder where this perfect spot Jack had found was. We were now
surrounded by forest and the sunlight dappled in and out of the trees, playing
over the waxed surface of the limousine.

We rounded a corner and I caught my breath, as we came
upon a clearing. Two rows of white pillar candles glowed under hurricane lamps,
outlining an aisle that led to an arbor made of bent and twisted twigs, with
pink roses and tiny white lights wound through. Strings of crystals dropped
from the arch here and there, swaying in the soft breeze, shooting prisms of
light over the entire area where Jack and I would face each other and say our
vows.

“It’s my wedding present to you,” whispered Lisa, with
tears in her eyes. “I wanted your big day to be one you’d never forget. A small
wedding doesn’t mean a boring wedding!”

I hugged her, wondering how someone like me had managed
to snag a friend so wonderful; so unselfish and giving. “Thank you,” I
whispered through tears.

“Don’t wreck your makeup!” she laughed, and handed me a
tissue. “Just dab at your eyes. Don’t rub.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Suddenly Jack and Matt were standing by the arbor with
the officiant. Instead of uniforms, my groom and his best man had donned dark
suits and Lisa had seen to it that they had received their boutonnieres of tiny
pink tulips, which were neatly pinned to their lapels. I had never seen two
more handsome men in my life.

The driver opened the door and Lisa and I stepped out of
the limousine and into the light. Lisa started down the candle-lined path,
looking beautiful. When she reached the arbor, she moved to the left and turned
to face me. I stood at the end of the path taking it all in before I took my
first step toward Jack, who would be my husband in less than half an hour. I’d
never been as happy as I was at this moment.

Somewhere behind me, a car door slammed, and I hoped that
no one was going to start setting up a picnic or a family reunion, within
earshot of my wedding. I saw the happy looks on the faces of my wedding party
change, and then I heard a man’s voice behind me.

“Audrey Dory – FBI. You’re wanted for questioning in the
investigation of an armed robbery in Rochester, New York.”

I turned to see a middle-aged man walking toward me. “FBI
Agent Phillips,” he said. “You’ll have to come with me.”

“Jack!” I shouted. Then to the man who had taken hold of
my arm, “What are you doing? I’m getting married!” My vision narrowed, and tiny
spots appeared wherever I looked.

“Hang on!” Jack shouted, as he and Matt ran up the aisle.
“I’m Officer Jack Morey, Syracuse Police Department. Can I see some ID?”

“Sorry about this,” the agent said to Jack, as he pulled
his badge from his jacket pocket. “Orders.”

“There’s clearly been a misunderstanding,” said Jack.
“Audrey was a key witness in that case! There’s been some gigantic mix-up here.
Let us go through with our wedding and then we’ll straighten it all out.”

My throat tightened and my vision continued to narrow,
and darken; I knew I would pass out if I didn’t get some relief. I struggled
against the agent. “Let go of me!” I managed to get away and started to run to
Jack, but Agent Phillips caught me and snapped handcuffs around my wrists.

“She’s coming with us,” he called in Jack’s direction, as
he led me toward a dark blue sedan. “You’re free to meet us at the Federal
Building, if you want.”

“Leave me
alone!”
I screamed. “Jack! Help me! Please!”

Through a haze, I saw Lisa extinguish the last of the
candles along my wedding aisle, and I heard Jack say, “I’ll be right behind
you.” His words floated over me as I turned to see the limousine drive away.
Jack followed my eyes, “Listen, Audrey, we’ll work this out. I’m sorry the
wedding was ruined, but we’ll get it done as soon as this is over.” His voice
began to fade away. “We’ll elope this time. Just don’t...”

A storm inside my brain swirled so violently that I could
no longer tell what was going on around me. Like a wild animal caught in a
trap, I screamed with my mouth open so wide that my face hurt, and I struggled
to free myself from the agent’s grip with so much force that I thought the
handcuffs would sever my hands. And that was the last thing I remembered.

I woke up in a hospital bed, squinting at bright overhead
lights. Jack was sitting by my bedside, and when he saw me open my eyes, he
stood and said my name. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“What happened?” I reached for him, but my wrist was
shackled to the rail of the bed. “Jack!” I cried, “What’s this for?” I tried my
other arm and found it was shackled to the opposite rail. I looked around the
small room. “Where am I?”

“You’re in a place where you can get the help you need,
Audrey. You lashed out at the FBI agent and resisted all of our attempts to
calm you down. You fought him. And then you passed out. Those,” he indicated
the restraints, “were ordered because you were thrashing, even while you were
unconscious.”

“How long have I been here?”

“Two days. They contacted Dr. Steele and she got an
emergency order to move you here from the hospital for observation.”

“Dr. Steele! So that’s it! She’s finally had her way! She
got me in here when I couldn’t defend myself. How did they even know about
her?” Then I realized how. “
You
told
them about Dr. Steele?”

“I had no choice, Audrey, you were out of control. You
need to get it together.”

“Don’t tell me what I need to do!”

Calmly, he asked, “Do you have any idea why the FBI wants
to question you? They said you had something to do with the stolen money.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know Audrey! I’m asking you!” He rubbed his
hands over his face. “Sorry. Can you tell me anything or not?”

I shook my arms, and the shackles rattled against the
metal railing. “I can’t believe this – do they really think I’m going to try
and
hurt
somebody?”

“They don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Anger boiled up in me like hot lava. “Get me out of
this!” I screamed. “
Now!”
And I
struggled against the restraints until Jack turned and left the room. When my
arms finally gave out, I threw my head back and surrendered to wracking sobs
that finally expelled some of the pressure that had built up in my chest.

An hour or so passed before Dr. Steele knocked on the
door and came in, even though I hadn’t invited her to do so. “Hello, Audrey,”
she said, almost in a whisper. “How are you feeling?”

“Fuck you.”

“Okay, well, we’re angry. I understand that.”

“So you’re angry too?”

“All right,” she smiled, “
you’re
angry.”

“You have some nerve,” I hissed, “what were you doing,
biding your time until I couldn’t defend myself so you could squirrel me away?
I know this is where you’ve wanted me, so are you happy?”

“Happy? No. But relieved that maybe you’ll get the help
you need now – if, that is, you start telling me the truth – all the things I
just know you’ve not shared during our sessions together. How do you expect me
to help you, Audrey? After all, like Dr. Collins, I’ve had to go by what you’ve
told me, how you’ve described your symptoms. If you haven’t been honest, or if
you’ve left things out, your diagnosis may not even be valid, and in that case,
your treatment would not be helpful to you. While GAD may be a part of it, you
could also be suffering from a second disorder that’s going unchecked. Leaving
out important information when you’re talking to your therapists, can do you
more harm than good.”

“And you think kidnapping me and putting me in here –
this is a psych ward, is it not? – that this will somehow make me feel closer
to you? Make me want to spill my guts? Are you crazy?” And having asked that
question, I laughed. “Maybe you are. Maybe it’s you who needs help. Ever think
of that?”

“Do you remember fighting with Agent Phillips?”

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“Fine,” she said, “I’ll go. But I’ll be back tomorrow.” I
ignored her, and refused to look in her direction until she had gone. Truth
was, I did remember. I remembered my beautiful wedding being ruined by the
sound of that car door slamming. And I knew why Agent Phillips had come.

It was back in California
– the night Harley had sat on my bed and confessed that she had the money and
told me where she kept it. I’d sent her to the pharmacy, pretending I was out
of my medication, which had given me time to find the suitcases and remove what
I could fit into my duffle – $900,000.00. Even though the bags had been locked,
I’d known the code – knew what it had to be. I’d split the remaining stacks of
bills between the three bags, rubbed down any areas I’d touched with a towel,
and put the suitcases back where I’d found them. By the time Harley returned
with the medicine, I’d done the deed.

The police had been
no problem. I’d told the officer about the suitcases and waited while he looked
for them. I’d watched as he picked up each of the locked bags – and when he
shook the largest one, I’d given him the code, along with an explanation for
how I knew it. The fact that he hadn’t opened all of them and counted the money
was pure luck, I have to admit. But he’d had a lot to do that day – people to
call, evidence to collect, a whole crime scene to direct. So I wasn’t that
surprised.

I’d left most of my
clothes, which were the same size as Harley’s, in one of the dressers to make
room for the stacks of bills in my duffle, so even if the police riffled the
drawers, the clothes they found would not raise any red flags.

The money had been
transported, along with me, to the airport by law enforcement. I’d arrived at
LAX more than two hours before the flight to Philly. As soon as the officer
who’d escorted me to security was out of sight, I’d gotten out of line and
hopped a bus into the city, where I’d purchased two sturdy boxes, several
newspapers, and packing tape. In a public restroom stall, I’d transferred the
money into the boxes, made balls out of the pages of the newspaper, and stuffed
them in and around the stacks so nothing would shift. Then I’d taken the boxes,
which each weighed around ten pounds, across the street to a UPS counter and
mailed them to myself. I declined insurance, of course, and watched the man at
the counter add the boxes to a pile on the floor. Then I’d crossed my fingers
and, channeling Harley, hoped that the cosmos and someone in brown shorts would
bring the money back to me.

The boxes had been delivered to my apartment, just
minutes before my subpoena to testify at Danny Stearns’ trial. I’d signed with
a scribble and added the packages to the stacks I had readied for storage. And
that’s where they were at this moment - locked in a temperature controlled,
fireproof, waterproof unit, with all my other stuff. Safe and sound. I had to
smile; I could still separate people from their money.