Sea of Crises (31 page)

“What?” Nate blurted.

“Have you asked her to the prom yet?”

Nate raised a finger. “Don’t start with me.”

Matt shrugged. “I’m just asking,” he said innocently.

“You’re just asking for trouble is what you’re asking for.”

His brother’s smile widened. “Ok,” he said, “have it your way.” He stepped past Nate with a studied nonchalance and walked to the Honda, which was backed into a nearby parking space. He set the bags down and opened the trunk.

Nate could see that Tim was already in the back seat of the sedan, his head swaddled in the bandage Matt had fashioned for him.

They’d arrived at the small motel well after midnight, following a long, winding drive through the back roads of Maine and New Hampshire. When they’d gratefully pulled themselves from the cars, Matt, to Nate’s surprise, had produced keys to the three rooms.

“Contingency,” he’d explained when Nate had given him an inquiring look.

Matt, who’d quickly field dressed Tim’s wound before they left the cabin, had stitched the gash after they arrived and stayed in the same room with the older man. Nate had bunked with Peter, keeping a wary eye on his brother, concerned that he might have a concussion after his encounter with the butt of the M-16. Fortunately, Peter looked to be none the worse for wear.

And then there were Patricia and Maggie. The two women, it seemed to Nate, had formed a bond, leaning on one another for support, and, though they’d been thoroughly terrified the night before, each had subsequently, it appeared, adopted a philosophical attitude and, with the help of the other, was coping with the circumstances.

Obviously, Matt’s demonstrated ability to anticipate and fend off those who were set to do them harm had given the group confidence. Nate, however, wasn’t buying the notion that they were out of the woods. He could see that Matt, despite his outward appearance of relaxed joviality, was still very much on edge.

From behind him, Peter asked, “Are we ready?”

Nate nodded. “Just waiting on the ladies.”

“You know,” Matt called out, giving Nate a sly look, his hand on the open trunk lid, “I think you and Maggie should have the Explorer today.”

Because the Ford was packed with so much gear, it had room for only two people. On the drive the night before, Patricia had ridden with Matt, while Nate had followed in the Honda with the other three. Now Matt was suggesting that Nate and Maggie travel together.

Just the two of them.

It was a tempting proposition, but Nate pushed it down. He’d already made a decision that, unfortunately, conflicted with his brother’s matchmaking. He gave Matt a direct look and said, “No, I’ll stay with the Honda. I think Peter should ride shotgun with you.”

Matt’s expression became serious, but, after a moment, he nodded and turned his attention to fitting the bags into the trunk.

Nate glanced back at Peter who glared at him with a look that clearly said, What are you doing? Nate merely shrugged.

The door on which Nate had earlier knocked opened, and Maggie and Patricia stepped out. Patricia held up both hands, her two index fingers extended and, in a questioning gesture, crossed them, pointing at the Explorer and the Civic.

“You’re both with me in the Honda,” Nate said. That, he noticed, seemed to please Maggie.

“I’ll sit in the back with Tim,” Patricia announced immediately, and she walked briskly to the sedan.

Nate and Maggie stood staring at one another, Nate uncertain what to say and Maggie apparently having a similar problem.

“Let’s go kids,” Matt said airily as he passed them, headed for the Explorer.

Peter had walked over with an excited Buster straining at the end of his leash. He wordlessly handed the leash to Nate. Then, with one last thunderous look, he turned and climbed into the Explorer.

#

They worked their way south, Matt choosing a more inland route and avoiding the major metropolitan areas along the east coast. Outside Albany, they stopped for gas and a quick bite to eat. Peter, Nate noticed, was unusually reserved, saying little as they sat around the table at the small roadside diner. When they were finished, though, Peter climbed back into the Explorer without hesitation. Nate chose to take that as a good sign.

While Tim had predictably buried his nose in a paperback shortly after they’d started out, Patricia had tapped into a side of her personality that Nate hadn’t previously seen, and she was quite talkative on the drive, keeping up an impressive running commentary on the scenery, the towns they passed, the weather and myriad other subjects of which Nate soon lost count. It seemed to Nate that she might be making an intentional effort to keep from thinking about the people who were chasing them. He didn’t mind. In fact he appreciated her garrulousness.

For the first time since, well, he wasn’t sure, but maybe since high school, he found himself at a complete loss for words. He was so aware of Maggie sitting next to him that it was palpable. And the cat that he thought he’d long ago outwitted had once again gotten his tongue. He was beginning to wonder if Maggie might think there was something wrong with him.

After they merged back onto the interstate, Nate rested his right arm on the center console, and, to his surprise, his fingers brushed lightly against Maggie’s. She had set her hand by the gear shift and was looking out the passenger side window. The contact sent a jolt through Nate, and he involuntarily jerked his hand away, keeping his eyes fixed on the highway in front of them. A few seconds later, though, he casually put his hand back where it had been. With an unusual mixture of relief and excitement, he found that Maggie had not withdrawn hers. Again, he felt the soft touch of skin on skin. Cautiously, he relaxed, delighting in the feeling.

After a moment, he felt Maggie move one of her fingers, a careless gesture. Maybe. Afraid to overreact, he waited a few intense heartbeats, then slightly moved his own small finger. With a silent thrill, he felt an immediate corresponding movement.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Nate,” Patricia called from the back seat, “just take her hand.”

Nate felt himself flinch. For a moment, he was at a loss. Then, despite himself, he laughed. He glanced over at Maggie. She had turned and was looking at him with those incredibly green eyes. And she laughed.

He lifted his hand, moved it over Maggie’s and set it down. She immediately brought her other hand over and placed it on top.

“There we go,” Patricia said. “That’s so much better.”

And Nate had to agree with that.

They stopped again near Harrisburg as the sun was setting. When they’d finished eating, Matt pulled out a map and showed Nate their destination, a spot in rural Northern Virginia outside the town of Leesburg.

“Is it safe?” Nate asked.

Matt nodded. “It’s off the grid.”

“I take it that’s a good thing.”

“It is.”

#

Matt’s “off the grid” destination turned out to be a small farmhouse tucked up against the base of Catoctin Mountain at the eastern edge of the Blue Ridge. It was accessed off a rural road down a long straight drive that passed between two lines of rugged split-rail fences.

Though it was too dark to tell when they arrived, Nate would see in the morning that small herds of dairy cows grazed the fields on both sides of the fences. As they drove down the lane now in the darkness, their headlights illuminated a series of signs that had been erected along the side in a haphazard fashion. “Private Property, No Trespassing.” “No Solicitations.” “Beware of Dog.” And, Nate’s favorite, the outline of a handgun with the words “Beware of Owner.” Given their recent experiences, it made him chuckle.

At the end of the lane, they came to a gate, which Matt quickly unlocked. They passed through and pulled around behind the house. After they climbed out of the cars, Matt led them not to the rear door, but rather to a squat wooden structure attached to the back wall, on top of which was a weather-beaten trap door secured by a rusty padlock. Matt pulled a key from his pocket and, after springing the lock, lifted the door, propping it open with a hinged slat. Following Matt, they descended a set of wooden steps to a basement below the house, their way lit by an overhead bulb that Matt illuminated by yanking on a chain near the entrance.

“Peter,” Matt said, looking back up from the basement floor, “will you please close the door behind you?”

Peter, who was bringing up the rear, nodded, reached up, freed the slat holding the door open, and allowed the trap to lower and close.

The small basement was lined with old brick walls and appeared empty, save for a couple of dust-covered steamer trunks stacked in one corner and a hot water heater in another.

Matt walked over to one of the walls and paused. It appeared to Nate that he might be counting. After a moment, Matt reached out and placed a hand against one of the bricks. It moved, and the hand partially disappeared into the cavity left behind. Suddenly an entire section of the wall separated and swung away.

The area beyond was dark. Then a series of lights came on, and Nate could see a furnished room on the other side of the old wall. Matt looked back and grinned.

“It’s not the Ritz,” he said, “but it’ll do for now.”

The location, Matt explained, was one he’d used in his previous career. He did not further elaborate. There were two bedrooms. Maggie and Patricia claimed one. Matt and, to Nate’s surprise, Peter, the other. That left Nate and Tim to sleep on the two sofas in the communal room. It didn’t matter to Nate. He was exhausted.

In the morning, Nate arose early while everyone else was apparently still asleep. He was anxious to follow up on something he’d been mulling on the drive south. He found some instant coffee, made himself a cup, then carried it to the desk in a corner of the room, where he turned on the laptop Matt had produced the evening before, after Nate had lamented the fact that he didn’t have one. Nate had once again been struck by the resources Matt had at his disposal.

Once he was on line, Nate pulled up a series of data bases to which he had access. He found what he was looking for after only a few minutes.

Matt emerged from the bedroom and took the seat next to him.

“Any luck?” he asked, keeping his voice low, apparently not wanting to disturb the still-sleeping Tim.

Nate nodded. In an equally quiet voice, he explained to Matt what he’d found. After a moment, his brother nodded as well.

“Worth a shot, I guess,” Matt said. “Of course, there’s always the possibility…” His voice trailed off. He didn’t have to finish.

Matt was right, Nate knew. With everything else he’d come to learn in the past few days, anything was possible.

Still, he shook his head. “I don’t think so. And I’m willing to take the risk.”

Matt gave him a long look. Finally, he said, “Ok. But I go with you.”

“No,” Nate said immediately. “The others need you. And I need you to be with them.”

Matt frowned. He was about to say more, but Nate interrupted.

“It’s not open to discussion.”

Matt looked away for a moment, but then he nodded.

Changing the subject, Nate asked, “Have you figured out how to get to Krantz?”

Matt returned his attention to Nate. “I’ve got a working plan.”

“Really?”

A slight smile played on Matt’s face. “You want to see?” He stood before Nate could answer. “Wait here.”

Matt walked into the bedroom. He returned a moment later, a small object in his hand. He sat back down and held the thing out for Nate’s inspection.

“Do you see it?” he asked.

Nate studied the device. It looked vaguely like a remote control, though he was no electronics expert.

“May I?” Nate asked.

“Of course.”

Nate took the thing and held it in the palm of his hand. It was light. There were a pair of unmarked buttons on one side. Otherwise, the plastic casing was smooth. He turned it around, looking for inscriptions or other writing. Nothing.

Puzzled, he looked at his brother, who stared back impassively.

“I don’t get it.”

“Look more carefully.”

Nate held the thing closer, peering at it from every angle he could. Finally, he shrugged and glanced up. “I don’t know,” he said, before looking back down at the device. “What is it?”

“Hell if I know.”

Startled, Nate jerked his head up and realized he was staring at Peter’s grinning face. Matt stepped out of the bedroom behind him. He was in a t-shirt, and it dawned on Nate that the sweater Matt had been wearing a minute earlier was now on Peter. Matt was grinning as well.

“I figure,” Matt said, “if we can fool you, we can fool anybody.”

Nate gave Matt a dubious look. “That’s your plan? He’s you?”

“I said it was a working plan.”

Nate turned to Peter. “And you’re ok with this?”

“Why not?”

Nate stared at his brothers, both grinning like a couple of school children who’d just pulled off a prank in home room. Despite himself, he chuckled. After a moment, the chuckle became a laugh. Then Peter was laughing. And Matt. Suddenly, all three brothers were howling uproariously, tears running down their faces.

The door to the other bedroom opened and Maggie stepped out, a blanket draped over her shoulders, the edges clutched at her chest. She gawked at them for a moment. Then she started giggling. Patricia appeared behind her with a look of alarm that quickly morphed into amusement. And she began to chuckle.

Buster, his stubby tail jerking back and forth, ran from one person to the next, adding an occasional “hmmph.”

From across the room, Tim propped himself up on one elbow, a bemused expression on his face, and asked, “Why are we laughing?”

Nate paused and looked at his brothers. They stopped and looked back at him. Then all three burst out again. Nate held his hands up and shrugged. How could he possibly explain? Would the others understand if he told them a mighty wind had suddenly blown through their lives, sweeping away years of accumulated cobwebs and fog, leaving behind the three brothers as they had been before. So long ago? How could they?

But he knew it. And his brothers knew it. And it felt wonderful.