Connie indulged in a piece of chocolate cake. She soaked up the taste by rolling it slowly in her mouth, allowing it to sit as long as possible on her tongue. She scraped the last bit of icing off the plate with her finger much like she did as a child dipping into fresh cake batter. She swallowed the remaining water and checked her phone.
“How are you, honey?” asked the waitress. “Can I get you another piece?”
“On the house?”
The waitress smiled. “If you want.”
Connie laughed. “Nah. I’m starting my diet now. Thank you. The chocolate cake came at the right time.”
“I’m glad. I wasn’t sure if those were happy tears or breakup tears.”
“Was I crying?”
“Oh, yeah,” the waitress said, sitting down.
“I guess things can always be better. So I’m hoping.”
“Good.”
Connie picked up her purse and took out her wallet. As the waitress left, she placed a ten-dollar bill on the table.
She stood and saw Hewitt sitting alone in the corner. She slung her purse over her shoulder and stormed toward him. “Well, well, look at what dregs have crawled into one of Northport’s finest drinking establishments. Who are you bullying today, King Hewitt? What peasants are you blackmailing?”
Hewitt lowered his head and fingered his drink.
“Are you FBI guys supposed to be tying one on in the middle of an investigation? My niece and brother are missing and you’re sitting in here partying.”
Hewitt looked up and took a sip.
“Cat got your tongue?”
He finished the drink with his next swallow.
“Whoa. Take it easy there, big fellow. It’s a little too early to start drinking. Hold on. Keep drinking.” Connie put her purse down on the table, dug around inside, and pulled out her cell phone. “Smile, jerk.” She sat down and snapped a few pictures. “Let me get the glass in the picture too.” She took a few more shots. “I bet you never thought you would be modeling for me today, did you?”
“Gina,” Hewitt called out to the waitress. He put his hand up in the air, holding the empty glass. “Another vodka.” He looked back at Connie. “Make sure you take a few as I drink.”
“Aren’t we brave?”
“Will that satisfy you?”
Gina brought another glass of vodka.
“Are you staying?” Gina asked Connie.
She leaned back and exhaled. “Yeah. This looks interesting. I’ll have some of the bubbly stuff.”
“Champagne?”
“Seltzer.”
“It’s on me,” said Hewitt, dropping a twenty on her tray.
“Why thanks, sir. I didn’t realize you were a gentleman. Sorry about the tirade,” Connie said with sarcastic bite.
“No, you’re not.”
Connie frowned. “Wow, you can read my mind. Yeah, you’re right. You’re a jerk. I think my hate level for you is as high as it goes. Speaking of high, what’s with the drinking party?”
Gina placed a seltzer on top of a small napkin and pushed it over to Connie.
Hewitt took a couple of gulps of the vodka.
“Yikes,” Connie said as she sipped her seltzer. “Take it from an expert. Drinking will never solve your problems. And I’ve had a lot of problems as you know.”
Hewitt took off his jacket and threw it on a chair behind him. He unbuttoned his shirt and removed his bright blue tie, stuffing it into his top pocket.
“What happened?” Connie asked. “Oh no,” she said as her mind wandered into terrible scenarios. “Did something happen to Michael and Elizabeth? Were they found? Are they dead?”
Hewitt shook his head.
“Oh, thank God.”
He motioned to Gina for another drink as Connie continued to sip her seltzer. “Don’t you think you should finish that one first before drinking another?”
He frowned and held the glass up to his face. “Does it really matter?”
“Yes. It matters that you have your wits about yourself so you can find my brother and niece.”
Gina brought another glass of vodka. As she turned away, Connie grabbed it. “Look, I’m not your mother or your friend, but don’t force me to call a cop. I know we haven’t gotten off to a great start but I need you too. I love my brother. I adore my niece. You drinking yourself into oblivion won’t help find them.”
Hewitt reached across the table, snatched the glass from Connie’s hand and took a big gulp.
Connie grabbed her cell phone. Hewitt grasped her hand, pressing it down. “Wait,” he said. He held the glass up to his mouth. “Okay, take it. I’ll give you my boss’ email so you can send it to him.”
She pulled her hand away and texted Susan.
I’m at Jax. Come ASAP. FBI dude drinking up a storm. Need your help.
Hewitt wrote on a business card. He slid it over to Connie. “The email is on the back.”
She pushed it back to him. “No. You’re going to do me no good if you’re fired and slobbering over more drinks. I need the arrogant SOB back because it’s the only way you will find Michael and Elizabeth. And I’m going to help you.”
“How are you going to help me?”
“I have some info on the pastor.”
Hewitt buttoned up his shirt. “I’m listening.”
“Promise you never heard it from me. My brother would kill me if he knew I was telling you this.”
Hewitt nodded.
“I was told when the pastor got his divorce, he decided to leave his insurance to Elizabeth and not his kids.”
Hewitt sat back.
“Isn’t that crazy?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “He’s best friends with your brother. Maybe his relationship was terrible with his wife and kids. I’ve heard of worst things involved with divorces, things that would really twist your mind. This I know.”
“Really?”
Hewitt nodded. “Write the name of the wife down.”
“Give me your card back.”
He pushed it toward her and rolled a pen in the same direction.
She wrote “Cathy Evans” and returned the card.
“Where does she live?”
“Not far from here. Greenlawn.”
“Have you ever met her? What does she look like?”
“No. Never met or spoke to her.”
“What about Michael? Did he ever talk about this?”
“No. But my brother would never talk about stuff like this to me.”
Hewitt got up. “I’ll check it out.” He stepped outside.
Connie watched him talk on the phone near the front door.
Her cell phone beeped
.
“About time, Susan. What took you so long?” she said out loud, looking at her screen.
Delayed. Is the GQ hunk hitting on u? He he. Go for it ;) Meet later?
She battered the iPhone with her thumbs.
He’s wasted. No go. Ha ha. TTYL. Fake hugs.
Hewitt returned as Susan’s response rang. Connie took a quick peek.
Later, Gator.
He sat down and stretched his legs. “The boys in the computer room are working on it.”
“Could be something, right?” she asked.
“Could be nothing.”
Connie leaned forward. “You can tell me. Did this case drive you to drink?”
He hesitated. “Yes. In a way.” His phone rang, and he looked at the screen. He answered it and ran to the front door.
Just like a man. Always running out on a business call. Enough of this. I’m leaving.
Connie grabbed her purse and dropped her phone inside. She left another ten-dollar bill. “See you soon, Gina,” she said while waving.
“See ya, sister.”
Connie approached the door, hoisted the big bag over her shoulder and went outside. She noticed Hewitt bent over at the side of the building, his hands covering his face. “Are you all right?” she asked.
He didn’t answer. She watched his shoulders tremble up and down.
“Are you sick? There’s a bathroom inside. Here, let me help you.” She reached under his arm and tried to budge him. “Hey, FBI guy, help me out a bit. I’m a tiny tot. You’re a grown man.”
Hewitt shook off her grip and covered his face.
As darkness descended, Michael kept his head skyward, walking a few steps behind Abel. It was so peaceful he could hear the crackling of wood burning in the distance from homes. He stopped for a brief moment to watch a star race across the horizon. He recalled the moments back home at Crab Meadow Beach in the winter. Through tearing eyes, numb fingers and toes, he would sit on the boardwalk bench for about ten minutes and appreciate the beauty of God’s landscape.
“I can smell the sea,” said Abel, stopping. He turned and tied a piece of cloth over his face.
Michael dug his cloth out of his pocket and did the same.
“The sand can hit you hard,” Abel said as he started walking again.
“You are a good friend. I am going to miss you.”
“Will you not return?”
“I do not know. I must find my friends and take my daughter home.”
“I thought you were home.”
“I have another one. Far, far away.” He paused. “I will never forget what you did for me,” he said.
“You would have done the same for me.”
“I am not sure I would have been so brave.”
Michael looked down, realizing the conversation was leading to saying goodbye. “If I do return, we shall share a meal.”
Abel took his cloth off and smiled. “My friend. There is a meal waiting for you if you return.”
“I wish I could show my gratitude more.”
“You have. You saved my son with that white food. You saved me by saving my son.”
“We saved each other.”
Abel moved closer. “How did I save you?”
“I was alone. Sad. Grieving. I had no one to talk to. I had no means of making any silver. You helped me.” Michael grasped his hand. “This is how good friends wish each other the best where I live.”
Abel smiled. “May the wind be at your back. Follow the sea, my friend. Be careful of the Romans. They will use their force upon anyone who is weak. Be strong. Do not be timid in using your sword. They will have no fear in using theirs.” He turned around and began his trip back home.
Michael watched him disappear into the night. He could still hear his voice shouting out instructions.
It’s time to go home.
He felt some uneasiness knowing he was leaving Abel behind to fend for himself in this world.
I wish he could come back with me. He would be safe in our time. Could make a decent living and not worry about the Romans taking his food and profit.
He looked up at the sky and let the crispness of the air fill his body.
Goodbye, Abel. By the time I get back, you will have lived your lifetime. I hope it is a wonderful life. I hope you have your dream fulfilled, working with your grandchildren. I know how much family means to you. While we come from centuries many years apart, we are much alike. Goodbye, my friend.
“Hey, FBI guy, I need you to get a hold of yourself.” She looked behind her and saw a crowd was forming. Some were even taking pictures. “Hey, knock it off. Can’t you see my friend needs help? Get away from here.” She waved her hands in front of a teenage boy. “Don’t you have school today?”
She looked down Main Street and watched as the crowd continued to grow. She noticed a couple of boys holding up cell phones. “Hey,” she said in a stern tone, “you’d better get up now before it’s too late.”
Hewitt staggered to his feet.
“There you go. Want me to call you a cab?”
He shooed her away with his hands. “Leave me alone.”
She took a few steps back and sent a text to Susan.
Help! GQ agent folding like a house of cards.
She placed her hand on his shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it? I’m here to listen.”
He shook his head and took a deep breath.
“I can be a good listener. I know you don’t believe that but I am.”
Hewitt turned and put his phone in his front pocket. He took out his sunglasses and covered his eyes. He tucked in his shirt and adjusted his jacket.
“There you go. We’re back to being the big, strong, arrogant FBI agent I so love to hate.” She grinned.
He didn’t. “I shouldn’t drive. I’ve broken every conduct rule in the book.”
“Welcome to the club. I’ve broken a few myself. We’re not perfect. I don’t see anybody here flapping their wings like an angel.”
“I don’t need your sympathy. I do need a ride.”
“No problem. Wait here.” Moments later, Connie pulled up to the curb, and Hewitt hopped in the front passenger seat. His head slumped forward against the glove compartment.
“Hey, you’re going to hurt your neck that way. Sit back,” she said.
He put his hands on top of his head.
“Where am I dropping you off? Your office?”
Hewitt turned his head to face her and took his glasses off, giving her a look of disbelief.
“Oh. Right. Can’t go there. Where?”
“I’ve got nowhere to go.” He put his sunglasses back on and leaned his head against the window.
Connie slowed down along Main Street and parked near the theater. “I don’t know anything about you, but what about family? You’ve got a ring on. Can I take you home to your wife?”
Hewitt mumbled a few words.
“Come on, big guy. Help me out here. Speak up.”
“My divorce is final. I don’t have anyone.”
Connie hesitated, began a sentence and stopped. There were a few more moments of silence before she spoke. “Sorry.”
He sighed. “Do you want me to get out? I will if you want.”
“What happens now?”
He shook his head and didn’t answer.
“Let’s get something to eat. We both could use some real food.”
Hewitt shrugged his shoulders.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Take me to your place. I can’t be seen in public.”
Connie pulled away from the curb. “Hate to break it to you but you’ve already been seen in public. I’m not sure what to say in this situation.”
Hewitt grabbed her hand. “Stop.”
“The car?”
“No. Talking.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You need to get in the last word, don’t you?”
Connie stared at him as they waited for the light to turn green. As it did, she spoke. “Yupsters.”
Hewitt sighed.
“Sorry. Trying to cheer you up.”
“No more.”
“All right.”
“What part of no more didn’t you understand?”
“I understand it all.” She turned to him and pretended to zip her lips closed with her fingers.
“Good.”
“Almost home.”
Hewitt banged his head on the window a couple of times. “I blew it. I ruined it.”
“Does that help? I get migraines sometimes, and I always wondered if you hit your head a few times, would it help you forget the pain on the other side?”
“There is no pain relief for what I am going through now.”
“Are you insulting me?”
“You’re starting to make me wish you’d drive the car over my head and put me out of my misery.”
Connie turned onto Waterside Avenue. “Oh, I’m that bad? Sorry. I’m trying to listen.”
Hewitt scrunched up the tie in his hand. “I just could never let go of the possibility she was alive.”
“Your daughter?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry. So sorry.”
“The marriage fell apart because of me.”
Connie pulled into Michael’s driveway. She noticed her father’s car parked a few yards down the block. “Oh, great. Now what?” she said, unbuckling her seat belt.
“Problem?” asked Hewitt as he climbed out of the car.
“I hope not,” she said, retrieving her purse from the back seat.
She walked ahead of him and saw the front door was open. She called out once inside the hallway. “Dad? You here?”
They walked a few steps toward the kitchen and were shocked to see Special Agent Holligan. “Why, Special Agent Paul, what a surprise to see you here,” he said.
“Why are you here?” Connie asked.
“Your dad needed a ride to the hospital. I’ll pick him up later. He was due for a checkup.”
“Holligan,” Hewitt said, shaking his hand. “Good to see you. Have you any news for me?”
“I was hoping you would have some for me. After all, you’re the lead agent on this case.”
“I’m working on it.”
“It’s a little dark in here for sunglasses,” Holligan said.
“The sunlight has really bothered me the last couple of days. Been having migraines too. I haven’t been getting much sleep because of the case.”
“Relax. Take your glasses off.”
“Kev, I’m going to put some burgers on. Want one?” Connie asked, standing in front of him.
Kevin kept staring at Hewitt.
“Hello, anyone in there?” Connie asked, snapping her fingers in his face.
“Medium rare, Con,” he said.
“Where’s the bathroom?” asked Hewitt. “This water diet is taking its toll on my kidneys.” He gave a high-pitched laugh.
“Upstairs. First door you see staring you in the face when you reach the top floor,” Connie said. She grabbed some frozen patties from the freezer while Hewitt ran up the stairs. After unwrapping them, she placed three burgers on a frying pan and lit the stove. She watched Kevin peeking upstairs from the corner of her eye.
Kevin returned as the pan started to sizzle. She flipped the burgers over.
“What’s he doing here with you?”
“I’m trying to help him with the case.”
“Don’t you lie to me. I’m not your average guy you can con. I know the games you play and the nonsense you spread.”
Connie flipped the burgers again, the grease spitting up off the pan and into her face. “Ugh.” She wiped it off with a dishtowel from the nearby rack. “I’m not lying. I’m trying to do whatever I can to help them. Or don’t you care?”
He swiped the towel and waved it at her. “Don’t play that guilt game with me. If you’re protecting that loser brother of yours, I’ll make sure you personally rot in a maximum-security prison for aiding a fugitive. You can spend the rest of your days in a small room with just a bed and toilet.”
Kevin pushed the towel into her face as Hewitt returned to the kitchen.
“What’s your problem?” Hewitt asked, striking him in the back. “Is that any way to treat a woman?”
“Keep your hands off of me, agent,” Kevin said, slapping at Hewitt’s face.
His sunglasses fell to the floor. He quickly retrieved them, putting them back on just as quickly. “You messed with the wrong guy on the worst possible day.”
“Okay, fellas, there’s too much testosterone flowing here. Let’s drop the macho FBI act,” Connie said, stepping in between them, showing her weapon – a spatula.
“Move out of the way, Connie,” Kevin said as he grabbed the spatula and threw it against the wall.
She stayed between them. “Please. This isn’t the best way to settle scores.”
He pushed her aside.
“I told you to keep your hands off her,” Hewitt said, throwing a punch to his face.
Kevin swung back, knocking Hewitt’s glasses sideways. “Let’s see those eyes.” He reached for them, and Hewitt snatched his hand. They grunted and fell to the floor.
“Stop it,” Connie yelled.
“Shut up,” Kevin said with a grimace. He pulled the sunglasses off and laughed. “You’ve been drinking. Strike one. On top of that, striking another agent can get you suspended. You’ll also be taken off this case.”
They scrambled to their feet, each with a hand on the other’s throat. They tumbled into the hallway pictures hanging near the front door. Connie ran back to the kitchen.
“Stop it now or I’ll call your office,” she threatened.
They released their grips on one another. “You wouldn’t,” said Kevin.
“Try me,” Connie said. She wiggled her cell phone showing a picture of them fighting.
“She would,” said Hewitt. “I know she would.”