Thou Art With Me (3 page)

“Not that I can think of.”

“If I find what this key goes to, what it all means-”

She reached out and gripped his hand, cutting him off. “Mark, I know I have no right to ask this of you, to make my burden yours, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw this away. For whatever reason it was important enough for Paul to arrange for it to come to me. The truth is, though, I don’t want to know. I stopped trying to solve the mystery that was my husband the day I left for New York. Whatever you find, I don’t care what it is, I don’t want to know, and I don’t want to lay any claim to it. If it’s money, I have enough of my own. If it’s personal papers, I’m sure you can figure out what best to do with them.”

“You really want out, don’t you?”

“More than I can tell you,” she said, and he could actually see tears sparkling in her eyes. “I tried...I tried and it made me crazy. I can’t go back to crazy, Mark.”

He had felt like that himself on more than one occasion since discovering that Paul had been an imposter. He chose his next words with care. He owed that to Paul, if not to Georgia.

“I will do everything in my power to keep you out of anything that I find. I’m sorry for what you went through, and I wish you nothing but good luck and happiness with this new man.”

“Thank you, Mark, that actually means more to me than you can guess. It’s the closest I could ever come to feeling like I had Paul’s blessing. I did love him, you know, as distant and impossible and frustrating as he was. I don’t know if he ever told you, but he respected you deeply. I think you’re the only one he respected of all those in his life. More than once he told me that you were a truly good man and that those were hard to find.”

Mark was caught unprepared for the wave of emotion that suddenly rocked him. “I appreciate that,” he managed to get out around the sudden lump in his throat.

“He said that the thing he liked best about you was that you could always be trusted to do the right thing.”

And just like that Mark felt like he was back in the police station, just outside the interrogation room where Paul told him he was going up to Green Pastures to try and stop the assassins who were after Jeremiah and the kids. Mark had asked him what he should do. He’d never forget the look in Paul’s eyes or the last words he’d said to him.

You’re a good cop, Mark. The best. Inside that room is a man who is your prisoner. And he’s the only one who can call off a team of killers who are about to slaughter fourteen kids and a rabbi. If they haven’t already. Do whatever you feel led to do.

Those words had haunted him for so long. He’d always suspected that Paul knew what he would do, was urging him to torture the guy they were holding into calling off the attack. What Georgia had just said confirmed that for him. Paul believed he would always do the right thing.

By many people’s standards what Mark had done had been the wrong thing. Before he could return to active duty as a police officer he’d had to come to terms with himself and the fact that he still wasn’t convinced he’d been wrong, even if his actions had ultimately proven futile.

“Do you... do you know what any of this is?” Georgia asked hesitantly, indicating the paper and the key.

“No, but I have my suspicions about what they might pertain to.”

She nodded slowly. “See, this is the dangerous part. Curiosity. It doesn’t just kill cats. In my case it killed my marriage. I liked that the man I was marrying had an air of mystery to him, that he was a riddle I thought I could solve. When I couldn’t, when he wouldn’t let me even try...well, you know what happened. The sad thing is that he’s been dead for almost two years and here I am...still trying.”

She shook her head resolutely. “That’s why I have to be done with all of this. With him. Do you understand?” Her voice was pleading at the end, like she needed him to give her permission to walk away.

“More than you can know. And if it helps, as far as I can tell, he never let anyone in when he was alive. He’s just left us all to try and figure it out afterward.”

“That actually does make me feel better. I figured if there was one person he would have confided in, it was you. I was always quite jealous of you because of that. I’m sorry. I know it was childish. That’s why I said no to so many chances to have dinner with you and your wife.”

“Traci will be relieved to hear that. She always thought it was her cooking,” Mark joked, trying to bring the mood up a little before they both ended up blubbering.

Georgia laughed. “Tell her I’m sorry, that it had nothing to do with her. She’s a lovely woman. And she was always the perfect wife for a detective. Something I, alas, was not.”

“So she won’t get a big head about it I’ll make sure to point out that it’s because she has a perfect detective for a husband.”

Georgia cocked her head and regarded him quizzically for a moment. “You know, you’ve changed. You’re more personable, less abrasive than you use to be.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t a nice thing to say. I guess I’m just stressed enough that I’m saying whatever comes to mind.”

“We’ve both changed because of Paul, because of what happened to him and because of the things that have happened to us because of it or despite of it. I’ve made some close friends who’ve helped me get through. And I’m a father now. Traci and I had twins over the summer.”

“Congratulations!” she said, her face lighting up. “Oh, I bet Traci makes the most adorable mother.”

“So adorable it’s ridiculous!”

“Paul was always very adamant about not wanting kids,” she said, suddenly wistful. “It never made sense either. He had nice parents, a good upbringing, but he was just dead set against it.”

Mark shrugged. “Well, it’s not too late. Looks like you’re getting a second chance at a happy family.”

“I do hope so.” She glanced at her watch. “I need to be going. I have a plane to catch back home. I just didn’t feel right mailing things off. I wanted to know that you got them. And I guess, I needed some more closure with Paul and being able to talk it through with you was the next best thing. Silly, I know.”

She stood and nervously smoothed down her skirt. Mark rose as well.

“Not at all. Listen, I know we were never close, but if there’s anything you need, please call.”

“Thank you. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope I never have to.”

He nodded. “Don’t worry about it.”

The feeling, after all, was entirely mutual. They did share a connection because in one way or another Paul and his secrets had messed up both their lives, but at the end of the day that was all they had in common.

“Would you like me to take you to the airport?”

“No, I’ve already taken up too much of your time. The taxi driver who dropped me off at your office is going to be picking me up there in a few minutes.”

“Well, then let’s get you back there,” Mark said.

As he locked up and set the alarm Georgia took one last admiring look at the house. “The Coulters must be even richer than I had heard. Wait until I tell everyone I saw the inside of their house.”

It was nice to know that despite the fact that they’d had a moment of growth and connection that she was still just as shallow as he’d always figured her to be. It meant he didn’t have to rethink everything about her.

The ride back to police headquarters was a quiet one. They’d both run out of things to say to each other, but that was fine. She was probably looking ahead to her new life while he was busy thinking back on Paul’s old one.

One thing was for sure, she had dropped a whole new can of worms in his lap. He’d just about reached a place where he was thinking of letting the past go. He had two beautiful children to focus every moment of free time on now and he’d at least answered some of the most basic questions surrounding who his old friend and partner had really been.

Deep down, though, he’d always known that he wasn’t done with Paul, or Not Paul, as he and Traci had come to call him privately. Even though he knew now that Not Paul’s birth name had been Andrew, Mark still had a problem calling him that.

When they pulled into the parking lot, Georgia’s taxi was waiting for her.

“Thank you, for everything,” she said, before getting out of the car.

“Remember, if you need me just call,” he said.

She nodded and closed the door before heading off to her cab.

Mark turned off the engine and watched as the taxi drove out of sight. Then he fished the business card she’d given him for the attorney out of the envelope with the other items.

Kent Gordon was the name of the man Paul had entrusted the envelope with. Mark just hoped he’d have some answers for him. The law firm was located up in northern California and it looked like Kent was one of the named partners. So, what had Paul told the man that had compelled a partner in a law firm to fly all the way across country to deliver a package to Georgia? He dialed the number for the Mitchell and Gordon law firm and when a woman answered the phone he asked for Kent Gordon.

“Hold please,” she said, her voice suddenly tense.

Before he could respond she’d put him on hold, listening to what was some of the most tinny elevator music he’d ever heard. A minute later a man answered the phone. “This is Fred Mitchell, can I help you?”

“Actually, I was trying to reach Kent Gordon,” Mark said.

“Mr. Gordon is no longer with the firm. Were you a client of his?”

“Actually no, but a friend of mine was and I need some information that only Gordon can give me. My name is Detective Mark Walters, I’m with the Pine Springs police department.”

“Then I regret to inform you, Detective, that you won’t be getting any information out of Kent Gordon.”

“And why is that exactly?”

“He was killed a little over a year ago.”

3

“Hello, Detective? Are you still there?”

Mark’s mind was racing as he tried to process the news that the man who had carried out Paul’s last wishes was dead. He shook his head and forced himself to speak. “I’m sorry for your loss. Do you mind telling me how Kent Gordon was killed?”

“Car accident. It was the blasted fog that got him. Went right off the road.”

“I see.”

“Is there anything I can help you with, Detective?”

“There might be. It involved a client of his who is also deceased.”

“If you give me the name I can have my secretary pull the files.”

Mark hesitated. There was no reason. There was nothing about Fred Mitchell that seemed out of place. And fog made for incredibly hazardous driving conditions. Still, something felt slightly off about the whole thing to him.

“His name was Paul Dryer.”

“I’ll have her get the files and I’ll call you back Tuesday to discuss. What number can I reach you on?”

Mark gave the man his cell number before hanging up. He sat in the car for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. It was late afternoon. He could go back inside and stare at papers without reading them for another half hour. He started the car and headed out of the parking lot, deciding that going home sounded like a better plan.

When he walked through the door Traci handed him both babies before throwing herself down on the couch, gesturing dramatically.

“No need to ask how your day was,” he said drily as he juggled his son and daughter.

“The other mothers at the park make it look so easy,” Traci said.

“The other mothers aren’t juggling two hellions at once.”

“No, you’re right. One of them was juggling three.”

“Triplets, I can’t even imagine.”

“Neither can I,” Traci said, struggling to sit up. In the last seven months she’d lost all her baby weight and then some. She looked thin and tired.

“Do you want me to make dinner tonight?” he asked.

“Only if it means making a reservation and getting a sitter.”

“You know what? I’ve had an interesting day, too. That’s probably not a bad idea. Who should I call? Your sister and brother-in-law?”

“The whole family is sick over there, plus I don’t want to have to drive all the way out to their place to have to drive all the way back. How about Joseph and Geanie?”

“I kind of imposed on Joseph earlier.”

“Okay, your day has been interesting,” Traci said.

“Still, they have said any time...”

“Now, right now, is any time.”

“You want to hold the babies while I call?” Mark asked, arms quickly tiring.

“No. I’ll call. You can get them ready to go in the car.”

“Better yet, see if they can come here.”

“I like the way you think, Detective,” Traci said as she retrieved her cell from her purse.

“It’s a good thing you married me then.”

Cindy didn’t know why she was so nervous. She had dumped the entire contents of her closet onto her bed at some point. Half of the clothes had slid onto the floor and she kept trying to step over them but kept stepping on them as she made her way around the room. At one point she got a foot twisted up in a sweater and fell. Fortunately she landed on the bed. Unfortunately a metal hanger dug into her side and she winced in pain even as she hoped it didn’t leave a bruise.

She had called Geanie half an hour before for help only to find out that she and Joseph were babysitting the twins. Geanie hadn’t even answered her phone. It had been Joseph who picked up and let her know what was going on. Cindy wasn’t sure if the screaming laughter she’d heard in the background had been coming from the kids or from Geanie.

She didn’t have Geanie or Traci or even Joseph to call on in her moment of crisis and she lay on the bed in disgust, the hanger still digging into her side.

“I need more friends,” she muttered.

She managed to push herself to her feet, extricate herself from the sweater, and stagger out of the room. She grabbed her phone and called the only person she had left that she could think of to call.

“Hello?” Dave answered.

The youth pastor, affectionately known by almost everyone as Wildman, sounded tired and a little down.

“Wildman, I need your help,” she said. “I’m desperate.”

“Cindy? What on earth is wrong?” he asked.

“Everything. Nothing.” She sat down on the couch with a sigh. “It’s complicated. Do you have a few minutes to help?”

There was a pause and then he said, “Sure, I could use the distraction.”

In the back of her mind tiny alarm bells went off. Dave had been acting strangely since just before Christmas. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. What is it you need?”

“Well, I’m going undercover at a couples’ retreat to try and find out what happened to a guy who went missing. Jeremiah and I have to act like a couple. We leave Sunday, and I’m just totally lost at the moment.”

“About how to act like a couple? That shouldn’t be too hard.”

“No! I mean, it will be, I mean, never mind. That’s not my problem right now.”

“Then what on earth is your problem?” he asked, sounding bewildered.

“I don’t know what to wear.”

“Are you kidding?”

“Of course I’m not kidding! This is a real problem. I figured you were married so you would understand.”

He grunted in reply. She had no idea what that was supposed to mean so she pressed on.

“I want to wear something alluring. I mean, I’m pretending to be in a couple working on our relationship.”

“So, you want something sexy?”

She felt herself flush just hearing him use that word. “Not sexy, appealing, attractive.”

“Sexy.”

“No! I want something that will capture someone’s attention.”

“Like Jeremiah?”

“Well, yes, he will be playing my...boyfriend,” she said, choking a bit on the word. “And I want to make sure that I look like a woman who’s actually trying. I want to look, I don’t know.”

“Sexy.”

“Okay, fine! I want to look sexy!” she said, embarrassed to say it out loud.

“At least now you’re being honest.”

“But not slutty or anything like that.”

“Cindy, there’s about a thousand miles between those two things. Most women don’t realize it because they don’t really get men and how we think. I’m always counseling some of the teen girls who think they’re trying to be attractive and mature and instead are just making themselves look cheap and insecure.”

Cindy leaned her head back with a sigh. “I think I might be one of those teenage girls.”

“I’ve never seen you wear anything cheap or slutty looking.”

“Yeah, but have you ever seen me wear anything sexy? I’m pretty sure I don’t know how.”

Dave sighed audibly on the other end of the line. “Maybe you should be having this conversation with your father. My father helped all my sisters through this transition in their lives. Granted, they were all younger than you are, but still.”

“I’m not having this conversation with my father.”

“Your brother?”

“No.”

“And I’m guessing as the object of your sexy intentions Jeremiah is right out.”

“Yes!” she said, horrified at the suggestion. “Please, Dave. I need help. There’s no one else I can call right now. I trust you.”

“That’s your first mistake. All guys think about sex. A lot. It’s in our physiology.”

“Dave!”

“Hey, you came to a youth pastor for help. You think I don’t have to have blunt talks with kids all the time who don’t know what to do with all these new urges and desires? Trust me, I wish all parents did a great job of dealing with this, but the truth is most of them are too embarrassed to have honest conversations with their kid. So they go into denial about it. You know I once had to have one of the female counselors go with a junior high girl to the store to help her buy her first bra because her mother was in denial that she was old enough to need one?”

“That’s terrible!”

“You’re telling me! I was the one the girl started sobbing on because she didn’t know who else to tell. The things she said can never be unheard. But, that’s my job. Kids are raw, honest. They haven’t learned to hide their feelings as well or that there are some things that are just not appropriate to say at certain times. You know a high school kid’s brain has more in common with the brain of a toddler than the brain of a college student? Very little impulse control.”

“I had no idea.”

“Yeah, hazards of the job. Look, if you need my help, you’ve got it.”

“Thank you. Could you come over and help me pack?”

“No.”

“No? Why not?”

“Cindy. Between work and church I’ve seen all your clothes. Unless you’re hiding some crazy things in the back of your closet none of it is going to work for what you want.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” she asked, struggling with the fact that she felt a bit embarrassed. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that she had nothing to be embarrassed about. Her clothes were neat, nice, and completely appropriate.

For church.

Because for years that had been her entire world.

“I’ll meet you at the mall in half an hour. Be outside Trendies. Bring your credit card and wear pantyhose.”

He hung up and she sat for a moment, wondering if calling him had been a huge mistake. Her finger hovered over his name, ready to call him back and tell him to forget it, that she’d make do with what she had.

She took a deep breath. She had asked him. She was responsible for opening Pandora’s box. Now it was time to deal with the consequences.

When she arrived outside Trendies half an hour later Dave was already waiting for her. He smiled when he saw her, but it didn’t reach his eyes. There was something going on with him, but he really didn’t seem to want to talk about it. Now was probably not the time to push, though. They were in a public place and she needed his help so she couldn’t risk alienating him.

“You ever been in here?” he asked.

“No.”

“Why?”

“I guess the name kind of scared me off,” she admitted. “I’m not exactly a fashion follower.”

“Neither is Trendies. It’s a fashion creator. More than that it’s an eclectic blend of old and new. Whatever your style, you’ll find things in here for you.”

“How do you know so much?” she asked.

He rolled his eyes. “Youth pastor. I know more about most things than I want to. Last year three of our girls who attend Christian high schools asked me to come homecoming dress shopping with them to make sure their dresses would conform to the school’s decency standards. I’ll never get those five hours of my life back, I’ll tell you.”

“I thought you loved being a youth pastor, dealing with the kids.”

“The kids, yes. Some of the drama, no.”

She followed him into the store which had a warehouse kind of vibe to it, complete with a second floor that had a catwalk criss-crossing overhead. Everywhere she looked there were racks and racks of clothes representing so many different styles and decades that it boggled her mind. “Are these consignment clothes?” she asked.

“Nope, they just look vintage. Everything is new, made for this store. It’s what they’re known for.”

“I don’t even know where to begin,” she admitted.

“How long are you going to be gone?”

“It could be six days, although hopefully we’ll find what we have to and be out of there before then.”

“Did they give you any kind of itinerary?”

“No, I just know it’s some sort of retreat to promote intimacy.”

Dave actually smirked at that. “Oh, you’re going to have a good time. I’d pay money to see which of you freaks out and blows your cover first.” He chuckled and he seemed suddenly more like himself. “So, tell you what, let’s try to make Jeremiah blink first in this game of chicken you’ll be playing with him,” he said.

His eyes were sparkling now and he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

“I’m not sure I like where your mind is going.”

“Oh, trust me, Jeremiah will.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Cindy, we’re going to show him a whole new side of you. And it’s going to drive him bananas.”

She found herself starting to smile at the thought. She wouldn’t mind driving Jeremiah a little crazy. Ever since Israel he had been subdued around her most of the time and it was becoming irritating. Shaking him up a little might be just what the doctor ordered.

“Where do we start?”

“Where all women’s wardrobes should start. With the perfect little, black dress.”

“I have a little, black dress,” she protested.