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Authors: James J. Kaufman

Tags: #Fiction, #Women journalists, #Fathers and daughters, #Bank fraud

The Concealers (21 page)

BOOK: The Concealers
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“Cherry,” Corey said.

Barbara and Katherine exchanged smiles.

“Cherry, it is,” Katherine said.

“She's smart,” Corey said to no one in particular.

“We have to get going,” Katherine said, “I have a long drive.”

“Thank you for visiting us,” Barbara said. “You've made my father's day.”

Barbara walked Katherine and Hailey to Katherine's car. “I really enjoyed meeting you and talking to your father. I can only imagine how difficult taking care of your dad can be.”

“It's funny,” Barbara said. “Your father said about the same thing to me when I walked him to his car.”

“Really?” Katherine said. “Did he come back, or call, or write, since?”

“I'm sure he's a busy man.”

Barbara gave Katherine a hug. “Alice says you're going places. I can see why she feels that way. Good luck to you.”

“Thank you, Barbara. I've enjoyed this. More than you know.”

 
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
K
atherine drove north to Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina, staying on Route 17 or as close as she could to the coastline, singing along with Adele, and Hailey, from time to time, sticking her head out of the sunroof. In about four hours they crossed the last bridge over Wrightsville Sound and arrived at the northern tip of Shell Island.

“Hi, Sean. We're here.”

“Great. Where are you right now?”

“Walking around on the road in front of a place called Shell Island Resort, looking at a fantastic beach and another island.”

“The other island is called Figure Eight, and it's where I am right now. I'll be where you are in fifteen minutes. See if you can talk the young guys in front of the resort you are looking at into letting you park in their indoor parking garage, and slip them a ten. Okay?”

“Yes, sir,” she said.

A quarter of an hour later, Sean, dressed in a T-shirt and swim trunks, sauntered across the dunes to Katherine and Hailey; he knelt down and gave Hailey a playful pat on the head. The golden retriever immediately started wagging her tail and kissing his face. He stood and gave Katherine a hug.

“She likes you,” Katherine said. “It's good to see you again, Sean.”

“You, too,” he said. “Dogs aren't allowed on the beach here this time of year, so let's move fast,” pointing toward the northwest end of the beach, to an outboard motorboat with a fiberglass hull and inflatable tubes on the sides, its bow on the sand.

“We're with you,” Katherine said, running with Hailey and again looking at the back of 6A as he headed to his boat. They hopped in, Hailey immediately standing on the bench in the bow, Katherine sitting next to Sean. He put the outboard in reverse, backed away from the sand, spun the boat around, and headed west through the narrow stream to the Intracoastal Waterway. He turned to port at the buoy and drove down the waterway, Hailey's head into the wind, her tail working overtime, and Katherine smelling the salt spray, her hair blowing in the wind.

They passed by a tiny island of sand on the left with an artificial palm tree in the center, under a bridge, by a waterside restaurant and marinas on the left and right. Sean effortlessly maneuvered the boat, landing it alongside a restaurant appropriately called Dockside. He hopped out, secured the boat, and gave a hand to Katherine as she stepped onto the dock.

“I thought you might be hungry,” Sean said. “Best clams and burgers in the area. Hailey will be fine here. I'll bring her some water.”

“Sounds good. Smells good, too. Neat place,” Katherine said.

They dined, watching smaller boats come and go and bigger ones wait for the bridge to open.

“How long have you got?” Katherine asked.

“My buddies are covering for me. I should be okay for thirty-six hours.”

Sean excused himself, disappeared through an alley, and came back with a metal bowl full of water and delivered it to Hailey, who drank with gusto. When he returned, Katherine talked nonstop about her trip to Braydon, Alice, Johnny, Corey, and the Live Oak Inn. Sean, listening, asked a few questions of his own along the way.

“When do you start work?” Sean asked. “I'll bet you're chomping at the bit.”

“The day after Memorial Day.”

“And you are going to be living where?”

“Southampton, on Long Island. It's near the water, too—but nothing like this, I have to say!”

After dinner, Sean moved the boat into a nearby slip, tied it up, brought Hailey up the ramp, motioned to Katherine to join them, and they walked to a black SUV parked in a lot across the street. He drove them back to Wrightsville Beach and down a side street on the north end to a house converted into two small condos, and he showed her through the one he'd arranged for her. They ended up on the front porch, overlooking the best beach Katherine had ever seen.

“This is so cool. I can't believe how clean and clear the water is,” she said. “Thank you, Sean.”

“Thank you for coming,” he said. “Let's take Hailey for a walk. Your car's not far from here. I'll help you gather your bags and bring them back.”

“Where are you staying?”

Sean laughed. “I'm over on Figure Eight Island.”

After they picked up her suitcase and two smaller bags from her car, they walked back to the condo and put her baggage inside. She opened the refrigerator to find a six-pack of Sam Adams.

“I figured you might be thirsty after a long drive,” Sean said, grabbing a couple of bottles and heading for the front porch.

Katherine laughed as she and Hailey followed.

They sat in the rockers, Hailey at their feet, sipped their beer, and listened to the waves as the warm summer day faded away.

“Tell me about you, Sean.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Well, when I first met you, I wanted to ask you a bunch of questions about the race, how you got into the sport, what you liked about it, the kind of bike you ride . . . what other sports you're into. Now, the circle of inquiry is ten times bigger. Where you grew up. School. Secret Service.”

“Lewisburg, Pennsylvania. Two things there—a prison and a university. I wanted to stay out of prison and I couldn't afford the university. But I ended up getting a student loan. My dad's a volunteer fireman and has a small motorcycle shop. My mom's a librarian. No brothers and sisters,” Sean said and then took a long pull on his beer.

“I looked at Bucknell,” Katherine said. “Good school.”

“I enjoyed it, even though I was a townie. Played football. Wrestled and boxed intramural for Phi Gam. Worked a little part time when I could. I just missed a 3.0, which I needed for Government GL-7 grade. Another way to qualify was to get at least eighteen hours of post-graduate work. I chose law school. Got the eighteen hours, but my heart wasn't in it. The only thing I'd ever wanted was to be an agent.”

“And . . . the race?”

“I'd finished my training in Georgia and then Rowley outside of Washington, D.C. and was having some fun at the race when I met you.”

“That answers the motorcycle stuff. What drove you to join the Secret Service?”

“Wanted to get the bad guys. Serve my country. Too late to be a cowboy. The Secret Service seemed the right fit.”

“So you're liking it?”

“Loving it. Every week, every day, is different. We're down here this week doing advance work for a vacation stay by a high-ranking official and his family,” he explained. “We look for remote locations and do everything from screening household staff to checking out boats and equipment to securing the perimeter—not so easy when the vacation site is an island—to checking the weather forecast. Hurricane season starts next week, you know.”

Katherine tried unsuccessfully to hide a yawn, although she was completely interested in his story. It wasn't the company, she had to reassure him—it was truly the hour.

“You've had a long day, Kat. I'm going to let you get some rest. If you like, I'll pick you up for breakfast.”

“Sorry. I am fading. I guess I'm more tired than I thought. I'd love breakfast with you in the morning. How does 8:00 a.m. sound?”

“I'll pick you guys up then,” Sean said, petted Hailey on the head, gave Katherine a good-night hug, and left.

*  *  *

Sean was there at the early hour, and Katherine and Hailey were ready at the door when he knocked. “You look great,” he said.

“Thank you, sir. You look pretty good yourself.”

“Why don't you bring a swimsuit along, a couple of towels, and some bottles of water for Hailey—and wear a cap or hat if you have one?”

Katherine went into the bedroom, changed into a bathing suit, shorts, and T-shirt. “I'd like to have a cap from here,” she said. “Do you have an idea where I could get one?” She took a few bottles of water and added them to her bag, along with Hailey's bowl. Sean walked them to his vehicle and opened the doors.

Sean drove to the Causeway Café on Wrightsville Beach. Katherine could smell the pancakes, waffles, and fresh coffee as they waited their turn on the porch. By the time they were seated, they were both starved, each ordering a huge stack of blueberry pancakes, bacon, orange juice, and coffee. Katherine loved the chairs, the tables, and the hustle and bustle of the place. Although she and Sean didn't say much, they couldn't take their eyes off each other, smiling easily and endlessly.

After breakfast, Sean bought a cap for Katherine and drove across the waterway, past some office buildings, a gated community, a bunch of roadside stores and restaurants, a big shopping center, a residential area lined with huge live oak trees, and finally into the heart of the historic city situated on the Cape Fear River.

He parked on Front Street, and they strolled hand in hand along the Riverwalk. To their left, they could see across the river, where the battleship
U.S.S. North Carolina
was permanently moored. People were everywhere, talking, hanging out, eating ice cream, sightseeing with their kids, or going in and out of neat little shops, restaurants, and bars.

When they got to the end of the boardwalk, they crossed the street. Sean showed Katherine the Cotton Exchange, a onetime mercantile building now filled with boutiques. He pointed out the spot where cotton was formerly sold—and some said slaves, as well. After they poked around in the shops, they returned to Riverwalk and ambled in the other direction nearly to the bridge. By then, it was time for lunch. Sean suggested they eat at Elijah's, which had an outside table by the river.

“What would you like to do after lunch?” Sean asked.

“This has been just great. I love seeing the downtown historic area and the river. We only have a few more hours. It's such a gorgeous day. Could we go for another ride in your boat?”

Sean drove them back to Dockside, parked in the lot, opened the back for Hailey to jump out, picked up his duffel bag, and led them to his boat. Hailey jumped in the bow, Sean threw the bag in, helped Katherine into the boat, started the engine, untied the lines, backed out of the slip, and headed south on the waterway.

Katherine sat to the left of Sean, comforted by his arm on her shoulder, Hailey with her head in the breeze. They passed boats moving in each direction and, after a bit, turned to port at a buoy and around a small beach into Masonboro Sound heading toward an inlet that led to the Atlantic. Instead of going to the ocean, Sean turned to starboard and drove along an island with dunes. He maneuvered close to the beach, set his bow anchor, and backed to the shore where he turned off the motor and lifted it up.

As Sean pulled off his shirt and shorts, Katherine watched him stand there in his bathing suit for a moment, surveying the beach and studying the water. Then he hopped into water up to his waist, grabbed a stern line and anchor, walked to the beach, and set the anchor in the sand. By then, Hailey was already in the water, swimming toward the shore.

He returned to the boat, picked Katherine up across his shoulder, and walked her to the shore. He went back, gathered an umbrella, a big blanket and Katherine's bag. He set the umbrella up and spread the blanket down in the shade it provided. Hailey immediately spread herself out entirely on the blanket. Sean and Katherine wasted no time jumping in the crystal clear water soon to be joined by Hailey.

They swam and played in the water for a while, then returned to their blanket and toweled off.

“Ironically, in some respects, our lives, as a result of what we want to do—or maybe feel compelled to do—are similar,” Katherine said. “You think?”

“Time. Commitment. Pressure,” Sean said.

“Of course, you are exposed to risk—life or death,” Katherine observed.

“There's that, but I wouldn't overstate it. A lot of my daily responsibility is mundane, even boring, time spent checking, evaluating, analyzing, anticipating . . . and hopefully, preventing.”

“I get that,” Katherine said. “I get the pressure part, too. I can only imagine what it's like.”

“Soon you'll be investigating bad guys of your own. Right?”

Katherine told Sean the details of what happened to Alice Hawkins—how she lost the money Joe had given her and the cash she received from the sale of his house on account of the fraud and negligence of her bank's officers. “How do you come back from that?” she asked rhetorically.

“What can you do about it?” Sean asked.

“Expose it, explain it, and build a platform for others to go after those who caused it,” she said.

Katherine saw Sean glancing at his watch. She sighed and took one long, last look at the beach. “Thirty-six hours are up, aren't they?”

“Not quite—I have just enough time to return the boat and take you back, but we have to go now.”

Hearing “go,” Hailey jumped up in sync with Sean and Katherine. They laughed at her eagerness and packed to leave.

*  *  *

Too soon, they had returned the boat and were back at Katherine's condo. Sean put his arms around Katherine and just held her for several minutes. For Katherine, time stood still.

“You know I'll miss you, Sean, and I'll be thinking about you. Be safe.”

“I'll do my best,” he said. “And I'll be thinking about you as well.”

Katherine remained frozen in place, once again watching the disappearing back of 6A.

BOOK: The Concealers
13.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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