A Quarter for a Kiss (13 page)

“A sign few people would get.”

“True. Maybe she just thinks it’s an inside joke.”

We strolled further. An odd peace descended on my heart despite our current circumstance.

“For what it’s worth,” he said softly, “a big part of me feels really bad that my own girlfriend has to do clandestine internet searches to find out the facts of my life. I never minded the secrecy my work entails until I met you, Callie. But the closer you and I become, the more these things become a burden to me.”

“But why
does
everything have to be such a big secret, Tom? You know that you can trust me implicitly.”

He answered my question with a question.

“You tell me, Callie. Why do you think I keep so many secrets?”

My mind raced for answers.

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

“There are some places a person can work,” he said, “and they aren’t even allowed to say they work there.”

“But you work for yourself.”

“I have a computer company, yes. But there are people there who handle the day-to-day operations. Most of my time is spent as a contractor to the U.S. government.”

I thought about that. I knew he did some consulting work for Uncle Sam, but I didn’t know the nature of it, nor the extent. Certainly, he had some very high-reaching connections within the government, not the least of which was his buddy the attorney general. Now that I understood Tom’s background, that he dealt with codes, I had to wonder if perhaps he was a code maker or a code breaker for U.S. intelligence. My heart surged at the thought.

“I read once,” I said carefully, “that people who work for the NSA can’t even say they work for the NSA. When pressed, all they’ll admit to is that they work for the Department of Defense.”

“That’s true.”

“So who do you work for, Tom?” I asked, my heart pounding.

He took my hand again and held it.

“Ah, Callie,” he replied, exhaling softly and looking out at the horizon. “I guess you could say I work for the Department of Defense.”

Thirteen

I didn’t think I’d get any sleep, but I did. I dreamed I was surfing, with great waves that carried me high above dark water, past dangerous rocks and jetties, all the way to the shore. When I awoke, the sun was streaming in my face and the clock said 8:15. I hoped that was the correct time. If it was, then I had just slept for almost nine much-needed hours.

“Callie?” Jodi whispered, tiptoeing into the room and carrying a bottle of water. She was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt.

“Hey,” I said, trying to sit up. “What’s going on?”

“Mom’s still asleep,” she replied softly. “I just called the hospital and Eli still hasn’t regained consciousness. They’re now officially calling it a coma.”

I ran a hand through my hair, closing my eyes. A coma.

God, please don’t let him die
.

“Have you heard from Tom?” I asked.

“No. I figured if he hasn’t surfaced in another hour, we should knock on his door. For now, I was about to go for a run. I was hoping you’d join me.”

“Oh, sure,” I said, swinging my legs off the couch. “I’d love to. What about church?”

“I don’t think Mom’s going to go. But you can, if you want. It starts at eleven.”

“Good,” I said, standing. “Time enough for a run first.”

I wasn’t a big fan of jogging, but suddenly the thought of speeding along the shoreline in the morning sunshine seemed like a very good idea. It had been a stressful couple of days, and I could use the release.

Jodi said she’d wait for me on the deck, so I dug through my bags to find shorts and a T-shirt of my own and then headed to the bathroom. As I dressed and quickly brushed my hair and my teeth, I thought about Tom and our conversation of last night.

With his admission that he worked for the DOD—and his insinuation that he worked for the NSA specifically—Tom and I had formed a sort of truce. At least now I could understand why he wasn’t free to share certain things with me. Considering the current crisis, I thought it best to leave the bigger questions for later and concentrate all of our energies here. I really felt that between Tom’s contacts and my investigative know-how, we just might be able to figure out what had really happened, who shot Eli, and why.

Our first order of business was to read the entire inch-thick file Eli had accumulated on Nadine—not the notes and things we had already gone over in detail, but the old documents about Nadine Peters he had collected under the Freedom of Information Act. As Tom said, we needed to understand what had happened in the past in order to set things straight in the present. For now, I was going to clear my head and start my day with some exercise. I felt myself slipping into a dark mood, but I couldn’t let my feelings overwhelm me. Eli needed me to be clear and proactive for his sake.

I found Jodi on the deck doing some stretches. I followed suit, feeling the strong pull down the backs of my calves as I did.

“Tom and I went rock climbing Friday morning,” I said. “It really did a number on my leg muscles.”

She hopped down onto the sand and began to jog in place.

“Rock climbing, huh?” she asked. “Is that how Tom stays so buff?”

I looked at her, surprised to see her grinning.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I know he’s taken. I just think he’s pretty hot…for an old guy.”

I bent forward, put my hands on the ground, and straightened my knees.

“Old guy? He’s the same age I am!”

“Yeah, I know,” she said, grinning. “To me, everybody over thirty is old.”

She turned and took off jogging across the sand. I finished my stretch and then followed suit, laughing.

“Thanks a lot,” I called after her, struggling in the loose sand. “You’ll be there in a few years yourself, you know.”

I caught up with her on the firmer sand, at the edge of the water. We settled into an easy pace, matching stride for stride.

“On the drive home from the hospital last night,” Jodi said, “Mom was talking about you guys. She said it looked like you had finally become a couple. She said Eli would be thrilled to know.”

“Eli has always pushed for me and Tom to get together,” I said fondly. “So, yes, he will be thrilled.”
If he makes it
, I wanted to add but didn’t.

“Is that weird, like, dating your boss?”

I ran for a minute, enjoying the beautiful morning while framing my reply. The temperature was perfect, and the beach just went on and on. Gorgeous.

“Not really,” I said finally. “Technically, I suppose, Tom is my boss, but it’s not like we work together in an office or anything. I don’t think of him that way.”

“So what do you do? What’s your job?”

“I’m an investigator for the J.O.S.H.U.A. Foundation. My job is to check out charities that apply for grants and see if they qualify.”

“Oh cool,” she said, sounding as if she meant it. “So when Mom said you could help me make some decisions about donating my trust fund, she wasn’t kidding.”

“No, she wasn’t kidding.”

“How do you investigate a charity?” she asked.

“It’s pretty straightforward, really,” I replied. “I have a list of criteria to go by, and the charity has to measure up or they don’t get the money.”

“Like what?”

“Well, most important, do they fulfill their mission? Are they financially sound? Do they have annual audits? Things like that. I don’t mean to make it sound simpler than it is. Sometimes it gets really complicated. But for those places that come out squeaky clean in the end, I have the pleasure of handing them a big, fat check.”

“That’s super.”

“It is very rewarding.”

We ran on silently for a moment.

“And what about Tom?” Jodi asked. “Is he really as rich as Mom says?”

It was my turn to laugh.

“Yes, Jodi,” I said. “He really is.”

“That can be a mixed blessing,” she replied thoughtfully. “Take it from one who knows.”

“I can imagine,” I said.

“I cashed out my trust fund yesterday. Now I’ve got three hundred thousand dollars in bearer bonds to give to the charity of my choice.”

“Wow. Why bearer bonds?”

She shrugged.

“I knew I had to get the money out of the bank,” she said. “Otherwise, my brothers would try to boss me around about it. But if the money’s not in there, they can’t do that. For all they know, I’ve already started wasting it away on beautiful clothes and exotic travel. To them, that’s probably a more logical choice than using it for the good of some nonprofit!”

“How sad.”

We continued running, chatting whenever something came up, falling silent when we were lost in thought. Now that she was over her jet lag and the initial shock of the breakup with her boyfriend, Jodi had really rallied, and I found her to be both engaging and witty. The time passed quickly, and we eventually ran about two miles before agreeing we ought to turn around. The sun grew warmer as we headed back, and by the time we reached the condo, it was positively blazing. Jodi and I slowed to a walk once Stella’s place was in sight, trying to cool down from the run.

“I have to take Mom back down to the hospital once she gets up,” she said. “But maybe later we could talk some more about all of this nonprofit stuff. If I’m giving away my money, I want to make good choices.”

I had been curious about her financial situation and the upcoming trust fund issue, but I hadn’t wanted to pry. Now, however, seemed an appropriate time to ask for more details.

“So tell me again,” I said, “you have a trust fund that your father set up for you…”

“Well, I’ve been receiving an annuity since I was eighteen. It gives me about three thousand a month after taxes. I’ll continue to live off that. This other thing that just came due is a lump sum deferred inheritance trust.”

“I see.”

“The bottom line is, I don’t really need it. Franco thought I was crazy, but I don’t see why having more money or more stuff is going to make me happy. Look at my brothers! They’re loaded and they’re miserable. I’d rather keep my three thou a month to live on and see that the rest gets put to good use with a nonprofit.”

“Where are you thinking of donating it?”

“I’ve narrowed it down to a couple of choices.”

“Well, good. I’ll be happy to give you some guidance.”

Up ahead, I noticed someone in the water at the edge of the beach, and as we drew closer I realized that it was Tom, just going in for a swim.

“Hey!” I called, and as he looked our way, he greeted us with a smile and a wave. Judging by his warm expression, he also seemed to feel as if last night’s discussion had cleared the air between us.

“Look at you two!” he said. “I had a feeling you were out running. I knew I couldn’t catch up, so I thought I’d swim instead.”

“You want to go to church?” I asked, glancing at my watch. “It starts at eleven.”

“Sure. That’ll give me time for a few laps first.”

He waded out of the water to give me a peck on the cheek, but I was so sweaty I held up a hand and stepped back.

“Don’t come too close,” I laughed. “We just ran about four miles in this heat.”

He looked at Jodi and winked.

“Guess you need to cool off then,” he said.

Then he came nearer, picked me up, and carried me kicking and screaming into the water.

Fourteen

We followed Stella’s directions to her church and made it to the service just as it was starting. Tom and I were both a bit overdressed, which came as a bit of a surprise considering that we were at least 20 years younger than most of the people in the congregation. Feeling very conspicuous as a brunette in a suit amid a whole lot of gray heads wearing golf shirts, I led the way to a spot about halfway up and joined in the singing of the opening hymn.

The service was fairly traditional, and we were particularly blessed by the soloist, a young redhead with a big voice that filled the room. She sang one of my favorite hymns, and when she came to the chorus I closed my eyes and simply let myself feel the very heart of the music through her amazing range.
How great Thou art, indeed
, I thought.

During the announcements, a special prayer request was made for Eli Gold, who was said to be “in a coma at the hospital,” with no mention of the shooting, the sniper, or the vandalism. I supposed the pastor didn’t want to upset his more delicate parishioners.