Forgotten Witness (27 page)

The boat kicked and bucked over a particularly large swell. Josie grasped the wheel tighter and shook off the spray. She loved days like this: A little wild, a little challenging. It was time for her to keep her eye on the prize: Molokai. Somewhere on that island, in that house, there were the answers to her questions. When she had them, Josie was sure she would be amazed she hadn’t seen what it was all about sooner.

Josie pushed at the throttle. The
No Problem
hit the waves hard and fast and the boat fairly flew over the water. Danny was enjoying the ride. Below deck, Stephen Kyle moaned. If Josie had heard him, she would have pointed out that the only way to deal with misery was to endure until it was over.

***

In a Homeland Security cubicle, the woman who had fielded the call about Robert Cote the afternoon before, looked at the time, and thought twice about inputting her data regarding the conversation. It was twelve-thirty and she had promised to meet her lover for a lunchtime quickie. Still, Cote was on the list and she didn’t want to be the bottleneck that clogged the system. Torn as she was, she opted to finish her work.

She clicked on the flag, and waited for the screen to come up. Her fingers flew over the keyboard. She filled in the time, the date, referenced Robert Cote, entered the name of the woman inquiring, and attached a link to the recording of the conversation. It was now twelve thirty-nine. Precious minutes. Still, if she hurried she just would make it and the word quickie would take on a whole new meaning.

She hit send.

Robert Cote was no longer her problem.

***

“Well, this has been a great meeting. Just great. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all of your information. Awesome, ladies.”

Pilipa Foley, newly minted social worker for the State of Hawaii, was as fresh faced and eager as a kid on the first day of school. He was turned out in jeans, a shirt he had obviously pressed himself, and a tie. His briefcase was a canvas backpack. He filled out his standardized forms with painstaking precision, pleased as a puppy making it to the top of the stairs when he completed one.

“So, Emily? Emily?” Pilipa leaned forward and did everything but snap his fingers to get her attention. When she turned his way, when she smiled her empty smile, he grinned back brightly. “Emily. Are you happy here?”

Emily blinked. “Yes. My daughter has a lovely home.”

Emily took Amelia’s hand. Pilipa colored. Josie watched, no longer shocked or hurt by Emily’s reality.

“That’s Amelia. Do you know who this is? Emily? Do you know who this is?” Pilipa touched the older woman’s knee with one hand and Josie’s with the other.

“No,” Emily answered.

“Are you sure you don’t know her? Her name is Josie. Josephine Bates.” he tried again.

“No. I–” Emily shook her head. “I don’t – I don’t think…No…”

Emily dropped her head, her fingers laced into a fist and that fist bounced off her lap. Josie smiled at Pilipa Foley to ease his embarrassment. After he had a few hundred heart-wrenching cases under his belt, he wouldn’t think twice about something like this. Suddenly, Emily lifted her head and looked at Josie.

“You swim in the ocean.”

Josie was startled. Amelia sat up straighter and the two women shared a glance. Amelia nudged her with a look.

Answer the woman
.

“When I was a girl I swam with my mother in Hawaii,” Josie said. “I got caught in a wave. My mother laughed.”

“I’m sorry.” Emily’s hands were trembling. Josie didn’t hesitate. She took them in her own hoping this breath of a memory and her touch would bring Emily back to her.

“Why are you sorry?” Josie asked.

“Your mother shouldn’t laugh.”

“It’s okay,” Josie whispered.

“Were you afraid?”

“Yes.” Josie admitted. “But my mother wouldn’t have let anything happen to me.”

Josie wanted to say so much more. She wanted Emily to know that she was stronger for that day; it meant everything if Emily truly remembered it. If she had, the memory was now gone. She was looking at the front door.

“May I go for a walk?”

Pilipa shook off his surprise. He cleared his throat. “That’s fine. That would be good if you want to take her, Ms. Bates.”

“Me? Alone?”

“Yes, I need Ms. Francis for a few more minutes.”

Josie was about to decline but changed her mind. If she couldn’t take Emily for a simple walk, what was she going to do once they got back to Hermosa?

“Sure. Why not.”

Amelia stood up, too. “Go out the front door and take the path to your right. She always went the other way with us.”

Josie understood. They all tried so hard to get Emily to remember Josie and it was Ian who was granted that privilege.

“Okay. Let’s go, mom.” Emily didn’t move.

“She doesn’t remember she asked to go for a walk.” Amelia nudged Emily up, turned her, and handed her off to Josie. “She’ll go slow. You’re going to have to judge whether or not you’ve gone too far. If she gets tired she’ll just sit down. Or if she zones she’ll just stand in one place. It will be hard getting her back, so you really have to be aware.”

“I’ll be careful. Thanks.” The transfer was made but Amelia watched until the two women were through the front door.

Outside, Emily and Josie stood on the porch. Stopping and starting was exhausting and they had only gone across the room. Josie couldn’t imagine how long it would take them to walk The Strand at home if this was how things went.

“Okay. We’ll wait a minute,” she said.

As she waited for a sign from Emily, Josie thought of Stephen. No doubt he had an unpleasant journey back to Maui on the
No Problem
with Danny at the wheel, but she was happy she had insisted that he go home. It was nice to have quiet time with Emily. She opened her mouth, ready to share the story of Stephen and his seasickness, but one look at her mom told her that would be a waste of breath. Instead, she said: “Let’s walk now.”

They went down the steps and Emily was surprisingly sure-footed. Josie laced her arm through Emily’s, not to keep her from falling but to keep her from wandering away. She squeezed a little closer. The contact felt so right.

“I’m sorry you won’t remember that we took this walk together, mom.”

They walked on steadily. Emily remained silent so Josie made her own conversation.

“I’m sorry there’s nothing I can do to make you remember me. I hope you would be proud of me. I think you would love Archer and Hannah. I think you would love me.”

The wind blew. The trees and flowers trembled and then stilled. A raindrop fell.

“I’m sorry it’s going to rain.” Josie chuckled at the one-sided conversation. Then she stopped smiling. “I’m sorry about dad.”

“I love Ian,” Emily said.

“So I hear,” Josie sighed.

Emily lifted her face to the breeze. Her hair ruffled and she looked beautiful. They walked down the path: a yard and then two. Another yard. Emily paused. They went further. Her step faltered. In the next few feet she stumbled. Josie caught her and Emily pulled her daughter closer, tighter.

“I got you,” Josie assured her but something was wrong. Emily was pale. Her breathing was rapid. “Are you okay?”

“Okay.” Emily repeated the word.

“Are you sick?”

“Sick.”

Emily’s face was moist with perspiration. She trembled. Not just her arm but her whole body. Her jaw locked. Josie took hold of her with both hands.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s too far,” Josie babbled. “Come on. Turn around.”

Josie tried to guide her, but Emily was rooted and wouldn’t budge. It was like she was frozen in the face of an oncoming train, but there was nothing scary in this place; there was nothing but trees and plants and beautiful things.

“Emily. Please come with me,” Josie pleaded. “Mom, I don’t know what to do. Please help me.”

Frantically, Josie looked for something out of place but concluded it had to be her. Had she said something? Done something? Is this what had happened all those years ago? Was it the daughter visiting some terror on the mother?

“Please–” Josie begged.

Just then Emily shuddered and her knees buckled. She started to fall. Above them the sun disappeared behind a cloud and shadow rolled over them. Josie tried to lower Emily but she was dead weight and collapsed on to the dirt and on to her knees. Her face went into her hands. Her body jerked and Josie – strong as she was – could not hold her, raise her, or comfort her. She sure as heck couldn’t get her back to the house.

“I’ll get help. Stay there. Stay there.”

Josie shot off the ground and ran back the way they had come leaving her mother alone under an ever-darkening sky.

***

Emily Bates knelt in the dirt with her face in her hands. If she didn’t look, she was safe. If she didn’t cry, she was safe. If she couldn’t be seen she was safe, so Emily made herself a small thing in the big forest. Time past, but she didn’t know how much. Fear paralyzed her, but she had no concept of what fear was.

So Emily didn’t understand what was happening when a man got down on one knee in front of her. He took hold of her hands and tried to move them away from her face. He was strong but still it was difficult to move her. It was as if her hands were made of steel. That’s what she believed. But if she was made of steel, he was made of something stronger because he forced her hands to her side.

She stared ahead but didn’t see him. Emily heard the wind but not the snort of curiosity from the man. He couldn’t believe she didn’t react when he got close. Not that it mattered. He knew what to do.

He put one hand on her forehead and gently rubbed the space between her brows with his thumb. He cooed and rubbed. He was surprisingly patient. When the trembling subsided, he put her on her feet and turned her.

“Let’s go.”

At the sound of his voice Emily Bates began trembling all over again.

***

The man who caught the memo at DOD was extraordinarily efficient. He drilled down on Robert Cote, took a second to note the dates of service, and then forwarded the whole thing to interested parties including the secretary to the division chief. She in turn, coded it and sent it on to the next level.

And so the notice that someone inquired about Robert Cote snaked through the system. The information listed his last posting and all programs related to his service.

The message was split twelve times for there were twelve agencies that had either flagged his name or his posting. By the time it reached all twelve destinations, the man at the computer was on to the next bit of business.

His, he was sure, was the stupidest job in all of Washington.

***

Josie burst through the front door of Ha Kuna House.

“Amelia! Amelia! Come quick. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. She just started shaking and I couldn’t get her to move…”

Amelia was out of her chair before Josie finished, clipping the taller woman’s shoulder as she dashed toward the door. Josie spun around and went after. They ran down the path, Josie slipping on the now wet earth, slapping a palm frond out of her way as she tried to get her footing. Amelia turned back, but Josie waved her on.

“Keep going!”

But Amelia had stopped and as Josie righted herself she saw why. A man dressed in work boots, fatigues, and a white T-shirt was walking Emily toward them. He had a hold of her and for a second Josie flashed back to her parents walking arm in arm, quiet and content. But this wasn’t her father and Emily wasn’t reliving the past. She was gone again.

Away from Josie.

Away from everyone.

“Came to say goodbye, Madge.” –
Archer

“Something for the road?” –
Madge

“A burger should hold me.” –
Archer

“You got it. Hey. Look what the dog dragged in. Honey, this guy’s been wanting to talk to you about that picture.” –
Madge

CHAPTER 20

Ambrose Patriota stood at the bank of microphones. Clustered behind him were seven of his brethren waiting their turn to address the escalating NSA scandal. There wasn’t much to say, actually. Every government listened in on every other government, their own people, and their own lawmakers. Like business, government was only as successful as the leverage it wielded against its competitors. In the grand scheme of things, this was a tempest in a teapot fed by a malingering media who preferred the ease of a perceived scandal to investigating a real one. They were so easily pleased and played so Ambrose did what he did best: he said what the public needed to hear.

“I am distressed by the administration’s lack of transparency regarding the NSA. However, I am not surprised. We have seen this time and time again. The administration says one thing and does quite another. The president of Brazil has cancelled her state visit in protest. The foreign relations committee will make recommendations, but we cannot reverse an administration-sanctioned program. We can only register our protest and try to convince the president that his ways must change.”

“Senator Patriota, if you’re elected what specifically would you do differently?”

“Senator Patriota, can you address the ramifications for our foreign policy?”

“Senator Patriota, congress has threatened to subpoena your records, will that–”

Ambrose ignored all the questions and spoke to his purpose. No one, after all, expected specifics.

“Confidence in the United States has eroded to a dangerous point. The president says he is not to blame. The buck must stop somewhere, and if not with him then with who? I intend to work with the House in a cooperative manner, not only to find out who has ordered this egregious over-stepping but how high it goes.”

When Ambrose was done he walked alone to his office, feeling absolutely naked when he entered it without Eugene. But there were others to notice him and his secretary was the first.

“Senator Hyashi called and would like to see you at four. It will work but that means you’ll have to dispose of Mr. Zanga in forty-five minutes. He’s due at 3:15.”