The Face of Fear: A Powers and Johnson Novel (30 page)

“Shit!” he said to himself. The phone rang, and it was Rachelle. “Hi,” she said, “did you call here?”

“Hi, Rachelle. Yes, I did. I thought I called the wrong number, so I hung up and was going to try again.”

“No, you had me,” she laughed.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m OK,” she said. “It will take time.”

“You know,” Paul interrupted her, “you mentioned to me that you might be going to Philadelphia during July 4
^th
. You should still plan to go; you will really love it.”

“You think so?” she remarked. “Tell me why,” she said, laughing. “Well...” Paul said.

“Wait!” Rachelle interrupted. “You seem very relaxed. Are you having a glass of wine right now?”

“Yes,” he answered. “A glass of white Vinetara wine.”

“OK, just checking,” she replied.

“Anyway,” Paul continued, “it’s one of my favorite places to be. Old City Philadelphia is the most historic square mile in the United States. When you go there, Rachelle, it will be difficult for you to leave, the way you love history and the Founding Fathers. You should stay at the Morris House Hotel. It was the home of Robert Morris, who I’m sure you know was one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. Well, he basically financed the war during that time, but they turned this landmark building into a hotel, and you feel like you’ve gone back in time. It’s walking distance to my favorite building, Independence Hall. You step inside, and you try to imagine the actual words and actions that took place when it was the Pennsylvania State House. To think about Ben Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, and George Washington walking around knowing they would be the architects, along with John Adams, of America, it’s just amazing to see.”

Rachelle was so enthralled with Paul’s description, there was a few seconds of silence before she asked him to go on. Paul continued, “Across the street from the hall is what they call Independence Mall. A huge lawn for people to mingle or sit and have lunch or watch an event in front of the building that was 'the Birthplace of Freedom.’ Also across the street at a 45-degree angle is where the Liberty Bell is kept. You can see it through glass windows when you are on Chestnut Street in front of the hall. If you want to get close to it, you can go through security at the other end of the building and get within a few feet of it. My favorites, though, are the National Constitution Center on Arch Street and Christ Church Burial Ground, where Benjamin Franklin is buried. People throw pennies on his grave every day, and the groundskeeper told me they get about two to three thousand dollars a year, which is enough for upkeep to his final resting place.”

“I hope that one day America and the schools realize how much more Ben Franklin did for this country than fly a kite to prove the existence of electricity from lightening,” Rachelle said.

“One day,” Paul added, “they will realize all the documents he was involved in signing and the influence he had with the French coming to the rescue to defeat the British in the Revolutionary War.”

“You continue to surprise me,” Rachelle replied. “I never knew you had so much knowledge about history and places like Philadelphia.”

“I guess we never really had much of a chance to talk about things like this,” he remarked. “What about you, Rachelle? Tell me the places you’ve been.”

“Well, when I was little, we would go to Great Britain. My dad had relatives there, which meant that I had and still have cousins over there. My mom was an O’Neill, which meant I had family in Ireland, so we would go there until Mom got sick and passed.”

“Well, I bet you didn’t know,” Paul remarked, “that I’m an expert on Irish trivia. When I was growing up, my dad would quiz me all the time about it. Everyone thinks that Bud is the trivia king, but when it comes to Irish questions, I’m rarely stumped.”

“Come on,” Rachelle laughed.

“Go ahead,” Paul said. “Give me a try.”

“Hmmmm,” she remarked. “OK, well, first tell me a famous Irish saying.”

“That’s easy,” Paul remarked. “'Life’s too short not to be Irish.’”

“Very good,” Rachelle giggled. “OK, how about what’s the real name of U2’s lead singer Bono?”

“Paul Henson,” Paul replied.

“What a great real name he has! Wait,” she said, “how do I know that’s right? I just made the question up.,” she laughed.

“You can look it up,” he replied.

“OK, Mr. Powers, I’m not fooling around anymore. Now for a really tough one. OK, tell me what days Irish Pubs are closed?”

Paul answered back right away, “Good Friday and Christmas Day are the only days they are closed.”

“Gotcha!” Rachelle answered. “I don’t think they ever close!”

“Well, my dear friend, you will have to look it up,” Paul said, “and you will have to let me know what you find out.”

“I will do that,” she answered.

“What else do you like to do, Rachelle?” he asked. “I know you like to write.”

“Well, believe it or not, I love to watch television. It relaxes me. I love the reality shows, I love advice shows, such as Suze Orman, but it seems I never have time to watch them ’til the end. I love the USA channel reruns of
NCIS
and
Law & Order
. If I had the time, I would love to sit in the house and just watch a marathon all day. I love the cooking shows. I enjoy Cat Cora. In fact I met her in New York City at the Bon Appétit Studios a couple years ago. Madison treated me to a birthday surprise with her making me dinner. It was so great, and she was so nice to me and kept saying happy birthday to me. Even when I had a few glasses of wine in me and was, I’m told, getting overly affectionate with her, she was very patient with me and gave me a memory I will have forever. I couldn’t believe how pretty she was in person. Such a small little thing, but she was so good to me on my day.”

“That was nice of Madison,” Paul said.

“Yes, she’s very good to her older sister.”

“It’s so quiet here,” Paul said. “Is she out?”

“Yes,” Rachelle said. “She had a few errands to run—grocery store, Walmart—thank goodness the stores stay open late on Sundays on Long Island in the summer. So, tell me, how is your dad doing?”

“He’s doing great,” Paul answered. “He called me yesterday. He ran into Sean Hannity at a diner on 47
^th
Street, and you would have thought his life was complete,” he said as he laughed. “They had the Woolworth reunion last night, so I’m sure I will be hearing from him soon. He has told me on more than one occasion that he wants you to do a story on the downfall of Woolworth. It’s a historical company, and he says the truth has never come out.”

“Interesting,” Rachelle replied.

Paul continued, “He believes that the outsiders they brought in were the reason for the eventual downfall of the company. I don’t know if it’s true, but he told me the top peak of the building was cut off to present as a gift, which is a no-no for a landmark building. At the very top was a penny with the year 1912.”

“Well, I think I will have to check on that and put it down on my list,” she replied. “Tell your dad we will have to make a date to discuss, quote, 'The Truth of the Rise and Fall of Woolworth.’

“I like that title,” Paul said.

“Well, maybe it’s a deserving title,” She answered. “Talk to him,” she continued. “I will probably be able to do some research in a few months, so next time he comes up from Florida, I can ask him some questions.”

“He will love that,” Paul replied.

“Where does he stay when he sees you?”

“He’s a big shot,” Paul laughed. “He stays at Danford’s.”

“Oh,” she laughed.

“Well, when you were writing about the restaurants in Port Jefferson, he loved it. He said you were right most of the time between Billie’s Saloon to Salsa Salsa, Toast, and even Z Pita. He said you were on the mark.”

“Ahhh,” she said, “that’s sweet of him.”

Paul wanted to mention Timothy’s Bar and Grill and the Red Onion Café also but thought better of it.

“Well, if there is one thing about Port Jefferson, besides the harbor and the different types of homes and colors, it’s the restaurants,” Paul said.

“Yes, true,” Rachelle confirmed. “East Hampton is a gorgeous village also. When you consider the restaurants, the beaches, and the shops, no wonder they call it 'Hollywood East.’”

There was a pause before Rachelle said, “OK, I have a question for you.” Paul could see her old self was coming back. “What was East Hampton part of before the Revolutionary War?”

Paul was stumped and said, “I have no idea.”

“OK, then I know something you don’t know. The answer is Connecticut!”

“No,” Paul said. “Really?”

“Yes! Really!” she replied.

“You got me on that one. I’m going to use that one on Mr. Trivia King, Bud, and I’m sure I will get him on that one.”

“So, how was your day today?” Rachelle asked him.

Paul was afraid to bring up the case or what had happened to Bud, so he totally left it out. Instead he said, “Not much, usual things. Personal things to catch up on. Just trying to keep active, but it’s funny you should ask because I took Bud to the gym today.” As Paul continued to tell Rachelle in detail, step by step, of Bud wearing his Superman shorts on the treadmill at the gym, he had never heard Rachelle laugh so hard and for so long at one time. It was so great to hear that beautiful laugh of hers again. He even stretched the story out and exaggerated a tiny bit just to get a few more laughs from her. She couldn’t believe Bud stayed on the treadmill to finish the workout.

“He’s lucky to have you for a friend and partner,” she laughed. “No,” he answered, “I’m the lucky one.”

“That’s so sweet,” she answered.

There were a few seconds of silence, and Paul wanted to continue the conversation before the awkward stage set in. He said, “You should come to the gym with us sometime. I think you would enjoy the workout. If you got up early enough, you might even be able to join us at Bud’s favorite breakfast place, Maureen’s Kitchen.”

“Oh, I love Maureen’s Kitchen,” Rachelle yelled with excitement. “They have the best baked oatmeal!”

“Oh, you too,” Paul laughed. “Bud will be happy, you both have something in common.”

“Oh, we have more than that in common!” Rachelle replied. “OK, really? Well, you want to tell me?”

“Yes, I will,” she answered. “One day. But tell me where you like to go for breakfast.”

“Oh, I’m easy, but I enjoy the Station Coffee Restaurant at the Port Jefferson Plaza, and Joey Z has a good breakfast downstairs.”

“Yes, he does,” she added. “I miss being there.”

“You will be back,” Paul said, trying to steer away from the problem subject. “You know it’s Bud’s birthday on July 9
^th
, and it falls on a Saturday. I’m going to give him a little surprise by bringing him to Danford’s. I’m going to tell him a group of us want to take him to dinner, but I’m really going to have some extra people there and give him a good time.”

“That’s nice,” she answered. “I have to say, watching him dance and lip-sync to 'Bad Romance’ was one of the funniest things I ever saw.”

“I know what you mean,” Paul replied.

The conversation between them continued for another 35 minutes. The subjects ranged from school to family and back to their childhood dreams. In total, it was almost 90 minutes of talk that made Paul remember why Rachelle was important to him.

“Rachelle,” Paul said, “I’ve never told you, but I always thought you were attractive, but getting to know you these past few years, well, it convinced me you are beautiful.”

There was silence on the other end until she finally spoke, saying, “That’s so sweet, Paul; thank you so much.”

He followed Bud’s advice, with nothing about the case mentioned at all. His partner was right. It was great. By the time they hung up the phone, they had shared so many memories with each other. Paul put his cell phone in his battery charger and went outside for a walk in the beautiful little harbor village. He was feeling good about himself again.

Bud got home to his house on Parkside Drive in Miller Place. He had grown up in the home and bought his brothers share of the home when their parents died. He added a couple of extensions since then, but with the taxes on Long Island, it was challenging to hold on to a house as a single guy. If it was not for his overtime pay, it would have been impossible for him to do it.

He picked up the phone and dialed the hospital and was connected to Sherry Walker’s room within a minute. She seemed in good spirits and was happy to hear from him. He was surprised how much information Sherry knew, being in the hospital, but he figured courtesy was the very least that could be given to her, considering she did save Rachelle’s life and took a knife to the body and a kick to the head.

Sherry told him she was getting the itch to get out, but she was told no way for at least another five days. Bud told her the case would be over by then, but he did not want to take a bet with her when she said no way! Bud told Sherry about the shooting again in more detail and told her about the note to Paul that was pinned to the tree. Sherry urged Bud to be overly cautious about things until Phil Smith was captured. Bud questioned if it would be over even if Phil was captured, but because of Cronin’s orders, no one knew about the letter other than himself, Paul, and of course, Cronin. It was challenging for Bud to explain his feelings to Sherry when she asked him to elaborate about why he felt the way he did. He explained it away as a gut feeling and that it just seemed like it was too easy for the masked killer to be Smith trying to eliminate witnesses and having to share the money, if any.

“What about the money?” she pressed. “There’s no money now?”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Bud replied. “Besides, what’s keeping this guy here, if he is here, and what is keeping the asshole butler here?”

“That’s easy,” Sherry said. “He’s here because of Cronin. Plus, he won’t give up on Debbie.”

“There’s nothing against Simpson,” Bud remarked. “How can Cronin keep him here, and how do you know that?”

“He told me,” Sherry replied. “He told Simpson not to leave town.”

“Odd,” Bud said. “He also pulled all the security away from the Lance Mansion today and asked the FBI to do the same. They will probably pull away tomorrow. William Lance sent all the staff away on vacation.”