The Value Of Valor - KJ3 (2 page)

“Okay, Tommy.” The tribal leader looked to the other young men.

“Do you have anything to add?”

There was a chorus of “No, sirs.”

“Very well.” The leader turned to the others gathered in his circle. “I think it’s too dangerous to take this woman to a hospital. The intent of these men was clear—she wouldn’t be safe.”

“We don’t even know who she is. She didn’t have any identification on her. If we keep her here, we may be inviting danger.”

“I disagree, James. Those men have no reason to believe there were any witnesses to their crime or that one of their victims lived. We are completely safe. Are there any other voices wishing to be heard?”

The question was greeted by silence.

“Very well then, the woman shall remain in our care until she’s well enough to travel. Terri Lightfoot, you will continue to see to her needs. I suggest we conduct a chantway to dispel any evil and attract good.”

“I’ll organize one to begin this evening,” Terri answered.

“Good. Whatever can be done for her shall be. Council dismissed.”

The wind blew the door to the clinic closed behind the healer as she made her way back to the figure in the bed.

At the sound of the slamming door, the patient’s eyes fluttered open.

“Easy. Easy, my child.”

“W-where am I?”

“You’re safe now. What’s your name?”

Lynn Ames

“M-my name?”

“Yes.”

Green eyes the color of a lush forest tried to focus. “I-I don’t know.”

The eyelids slid closed once again.

“Don’t worry for now, my child. Just rest.” Terri Lightfoot stroked the blonde hair that peeked out from the bandages. She fingered the diamond-encrusted wedding band she had removed from the woman’s swollen left ring finger and kept in her pocket for safekeeping. “You’ll know when the time is right.”

The Value of Valor

CHAPTER ONE

ingers played across her breasts, tantalizing, exciting. The heat of F her lover’s breath seared her sensitive skin.

“Jay.” It escaped her lips as a prayer, which morphed into a mournful wail as she came awake.

Katherine Kyle bolted upright, the sweat-soaked sheet pooling around her naked waist, moonlight peeking in through the blinds of her suburban Washington, D.C., condominium. The numerals on the digital bedside clock mocked her: 2:36 a.m.

“Jay,” she whispered. “What am I supposed to do without you?” The tears came again, stinging her already swollen eyes. She welcomed them.

Alarmed by the sounds of distress, Kate’s faithful golden retriever laid his chin on the bed and whimpered.

“I’m sorry, Fred. I know you miss her, too.”

The soulful look in his eyes reflected her mood perfectly. Sliding off the bed, Kate threw on a T-shirt she had discarded earlier, lay down on the dog bed, and hugged her companion.

“It’s just you and me now, buddy.” She choked on the words, huddled closer, and rested her head on his soft fur, hoping his warmth would penetrate her bones and take away the chill that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her very soul since she’d gotten the fateful call three days earlier. Kate closed her eyes against the memory.

“White House. Press Secretary Kyle speaking.”

“Ms. Kyle? Ms. Katherine Kyle?”

“Yes.”

“This is Officer Brandan Oakley of the Arizona Highway Patrol.

There’s been an accident involving a rental car in Canyon De Chelly
near Chinle, Arizona.”

Kate let go of Fred and covered her ears, trying to shut out the words.

“You are listed on the rental car application as primary contact for a
Ms. Jamison Parker.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry to inform you, Ms. Kyle, but there don’t appear to be any
survivors.”

“No surviv…that can’t be…we…I…she...”

Lynn Ames

“I’m afraid Ms. Parker is dead.”

“No,” Kate screamed, scaring Fred. “No,” she sobbed, as she hugged him close again. She imagined she could still smell the passion and feel the warmth of the sheets where Jay and she had made love the morning before the accident. She curled into the fetal position, Fred laying his head on her side.

“Kate, it’s President Hyland. I heard. I’m so sorry. Jay was a
wonderful woman and we’ll all feel her loss. I’ve personally asked the
FBI to investigate, and I’ve had arrangements made for you to fly out
there immediately. Don’t worry about anything here, we’ll hold down the
fort.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Kate said aloud as she absentmindedly ran her thumb over the dog’s left front paw. Fred licked the back of her hand sympathetically. “I want her back. I just want her back.” She rocked back and forth, trying in vain to comfort herself.

“Ma’am, you can’t go beyond the yellow tape.”

“Jay!”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to stay here.”

“No. I have to get to her. Jay!”

“Ma’am,” he said, more gently this time, “there’s nothing left.”

Nothing left.
The words reverberated in her head. She tightened her grip on Fred, wondering if truer words had ever been spoken.

The FBI agent sitting in Kate’s living room looked uncomfortable.

He’d been assigned the unenviable task of liaising with the press secretary to the president of the United States in the matter of the death of her beloved partner. “Ms. Kyle, you saw the evidence yourself. There was no mistake. The forensics matched. The license plate they found corresponded with the car Ms. Parker rented when she arrived at the airport.” He slid across a copy of the rental agreement, signed and dated by Jay three days earlier: January 21, 1989. In the appropriate box in the upper right-hand corner of the form, the license plate number was typed in. It matched the mangled one shown in the Polaroid sitting on the coffee table.

“You were there—you saw the condition of the vehicle.”

Kate fought to control her emotions, but the rage and helplessness were too close to the surface.

“You found absolutely no conclusive evidence that the body was Jay’s, though, did you? No. You can’t prove that she was in the car when it crashed, can you? What if she wasn’t? What if…”

“Ms. Kyle, I’m so sorry for your loss. We searched everywhere around the vicinity. The explosion obliterated most of the evidence we
The Value of Valor

might have found. We did come up with some teeth, a femur, and bone fragments from the skull, all clustered on the driver’s side of the car.”

Kate felt her head swim, and her body swayed as if she would keel over. She fought to steady herself.

“Technically, you’re right,” he went on, “we can’t rule with absolute certainty that the body was Ms. Parker’s. However, the pathology tests indicate that the bones belonged to a Caucasian woman about Ms.

Parker’s size. Unfortunately, we are unable to make a more positive ID

than that due to the condition of the specimens.”

Kate felt the bile rise in her throat at the thought of Jay being hurled into space and burnt beyond recognition.

She apparently didn’t hear him call her name the first time, so he tried again. “Ms. Kyle?”

“Yes?”

“To the best of your knowledge, was anyone else in the car with Ms.

Parker?”

“No,” she murmured.

“Ms. Kyle,” he said softly, “no one could have survived that impact—no one.”

“I can’t give up on her. I just can’t. Doesn’t the FBI have new technology that can identify a person from her DNA?”

“Yes, ma’am, but as I said, there simply wasn’t enough material to work with; the heat of the fire destroyed the bone marrow from which we would have drawn samples. I’m so sorry.”

Desperate to hold herself together, Kate thanked the agent for coming to the house to give her the latest update on the investigation into Jay’s accident and dismissed him.

“She’ll always be alive in your heart.”

Kate looked up from where she still sat on the couch to see Dr.

Barbara Jones standing in the doorway. Her tears began anew.

Barbara was Kate’s physician and one of her closest friends. Theirs was a relationship formed out of mutual respect, love, and admiration.

Barbara had seen Kate through some tough situations, patching her up physically and supporting her emotionally. “Kate, you did everything you could.”

“No. Don’t you understand? I left her there. I gave up on her.”

“That’s not true, honey.” Barbara switched to a different tack. “What more could you have done?”

Kate began pacing manically. Her voice trembled. “I could have stayed. I could have searched myself.”

“Kate, you got to the site within hours of the first report of the accident. You stayed there for two days while state police and FBI agents
Lynn Ames

combed the area. You watched while forensic experts reconstructed the path of the car and assessed the speed of impact. You saw them collect whatever evidence there was to find.”

“What if she’s out there somewhere, Barbara? Hurt, alone, and frightened.” She could barely get the words out.

“Oh, Kate.” She enveloped the grieving woman in a hug, knowing from her vast experience with comforting the inconsolable, that there was nothing more to say. Only time could heal this kind of wound.

“Hi.”

The two women looked up as a tall man in his late thirties crossed the threshold to Kate’s living room.

“Hi, Peter.”

Peter Enright was Kate’s best friend and confidant. An expert in technology, weapons, and security, he was the older brother Kate never had.

“The FBI guy just left.”

“I know, I saw him on the way out. He looks like he went ten rounds with Muhammad Ali. What’d you do to him, Kate?”

She sighed, moving away from Barbara to stare blankly out the window. “I’m sorry about that. I guess I just want different answers than he can give me.”

“Ah, so you browbeat him. I get it now. He’s just doing his job.”

Peter moved to Kate and put a comforting hand on her arm to lessen the impact of his words. “He can’t change the outcome or bring Jay back.”

“I know.”

Kate was plainly beyond exhaustion, with deep circles etched under her normally vibrant blue eyes. Her hair, usually a glossy black, was dull and unruly. Her skin was unnaturally pale, and she was gaunt.

“Why don’t you go lie down for a little while? Barbara and I will fix some coffee and breakfast. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

“No.”

Barbara stepped in. “As your doctor, Katherine, I order you to get some rest.” When Kate looked as if she would snap at her, Barbara softened her tone. “As your friend, I’m really worried about you. It won’t do anyone any good if you get sick. Please?”

“I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see Jay.” A single tear slid down Kate’s face. “I can’t close my eyes anymore. It’s too painful.”

“Kate, you have to sleep. Here, take this.” Barbara handed Kate a pill.

“What is it?”

“Just something to help you sleep—soundly—for a couple of hours.”

“You know I hate to take anything.”

“Doctor’s orders. If Jay were here, she’d be giving you holy hell for not taking care of yourself and you know it. Please, Kate.”

The Value of Valor

She sighed, knowing she was beaten. “You’ll wake me if there’s anything?”

“Of course,” Peter promised.

When she was sure Kate was out of earshot, Barbara turned to Peter.

“Do you really believe it was an accident?”

“Not for a second.”

“You have proof?”

He sighed in exasperation. “No. There doesn’t appear to be anything to go on.”

“But?”

“My gut is screaming. Jay’s car mysteriously flies off a cliff two days after a jury convicts two scumbags of kidnapping Kate and using the cover of a prison riot to try to have her killed? Seems like too much of a coincidence to me. I smell a rat.”

“What’re you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to visit an old friend.”

“Oh? Who would that be?”

“Derek LaPointe, deputy director of the FBI.”

Barbara whistled softly. “It’s nice to have friends in high places.”

“We’ll see about that. Derek and I served together in Vietnam. I saved his bacon once. I’m hoping he can put some pressure in the right places to get the fibbies to keep looking. So far, all I’ve gotten from them is that there’s ‘insufficient evidence to proceed with a murder investigation.’”

As they made their way into the kitchen, Barbara stopped Peter with a hand on his arm. “I know I shouldn’t ask this, but…”

“Do I think there’s any chance Jay might be alive, right?”

Barbara nodded. “Because they can’t say positively that the tooth and bone fragments belong to Jay, Kate seems convinced that she could be out there alive somewhere.”

“My best judgment is that it’s a remote possibility but highly unlikely. It would’ve taken a miracle to survive the crash. Not only that, but the pathology reports show the bones are consistent with someone Jay’s size.”

“I figured. What are we going to do about our Kate? You know she’s not going to give up easily.”

“Would you, if you were in her place and it was your lover?”

“No, I sure wouldn’t.”

“Right.” Peter raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to give her false hope when the probabilities and evidence say otherwise.” He held up his hand to forestall the anticipated interruption. “Which is not to say I’m not going to look into the possibility that Jay’s alive while I’m
Lynn Ames

searching for answers about the crash. You know I won’t give up as long as Kate believes there’s any chance she’s out there somewhere.”

“I’m afraid Kate won’t let it rest without absolute proof of Jay’s death.”

“I’m not sure we can get that for her.”

“I know. That’s what worries me.”

“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to track you down for days,”

Michael Vendetti, the high-strung deputy press secretary to the president, hissed.

“Take your hands off me, you idiot.” Robert Hawthorne, a former four-term U.S. senator and current chairman of the Democratic National Committee, was clearly livid. “What’re you doing here?”