"Which seems to be another coincidence," she said. "Two black. Two white. Two broken. Two intact. Do you still think it's the same people or perhaps random acts of vandalism that are not connected at all?"
"I don’t' know. But my patience is wearing thin." He knew Francesca was right; it could be four unrelated incidents. But, Jake reasoned, more likely two. He was convinced the grave disturbances at Arlington and Andersonville were interconnected. He wasn't so sure the incidents in Hiawassee and Dahlonega were related to each other or to the national cemetery break-ins.
At Arlington, and again at Andersonville, the top liners in the caskets had fallen, or were pulled, from the same corner and folded underneath when the casket lid was closed. Too much of a coincidence not be connected. He didn't buy the story about the liners coming loose due to the caskets being buried in the ground and not in a vault. He didn't know much about caskets and decay or what years underground would do to the interior of the casket, but he did know that the lid had been opened because the liner was creased and folded back. That could only have happened if the lid was opened and then closed with the liner hanging down. What puzzled him was nothing appeared to have been removed from any of the caskets. The glass seals were never breached. So why would someone go to the trouble and risk going to jail if they weren't robbing the grave. What was he missing?
Jake opened the folder to review the crime reports again but within seconds his mind had wandered. He reminisced about Beth and the fun vacations they'd shared together in Fernandina Beach. Thinking about the casino cruises, picnics at Fort Clinch State Park, and the long romantic walks on the beach made him smile. He loved Beth. Her tragic death a year and a half ago left him feeling guilty and with an overwhelming emptiness inside. He never thought he could feel happiness again.
Then he met Kyli.
He wished Kyli was with him now. He felt cheated out of his time with her. He had put a wall around his emotions after Beth died, vowing never to let anyone in. Never to take down the wall. Was it too soon to let go of his feelings for Beth?
Kyli was different in so many ways. She made him feel alive. And it felt so damn good. Beth had been dependent on him, even needy at times, but he overlooked it because they always had good times together. Kyli was the polar opposite. Independent, light hearted, and a practical joker. A little on the wild side. Her tears at the Maldives resort was the first time he'd seen Kyli cry. Was it possible to fall in love with Kyli while he was still holding on to his feelings for Beth?
Their vacation cut short for this — investigating grave robberies. Not even robberies. Disturbances. Vandalisms. Never had anything been identified as stolen. He understood the President wanting to avoid a racial issue with the national cemeteries but why involve Wiley? Why couldn't Rudd's people handle this issue? It didn't add up.
The buzzer on the flight phone interrupted his thoughts. He picked up the receiver. "Yeah Mike?"
"We're starting our descent now, sir. We'll be on the ground in ten minutes."
Jake hung up the flight phone and looked at Francesca. "We'll be on the ground in ten so let's pack up this stuff." He paused. "You like seafood?"
"I'm from the southern tip of Italy. What do you think?"
By the time Jake checked into the hotel and met Francesca in the lobby, the sun was disappearing in the western sky. The last of the day's burnt orange rays skipped across the waters of Fernandina Harbor. Shadows of sailboats moored in the harbor dotted the sparkling waters. Harbor sounds filled the air. Halyards clanged as sailboats rocked from the wake of a passing motorboat on the Amelia River. Its tiny engine hummed as it drove by. Screeching seagulls flocked behind an incoming shrimp boat, begging fishermen to throw scraps overboard.
Jake and Francesca walked down the sidewalk past the Palace Saloon, one of the town's feature landmarks.
"This is the place you wanted to come for drinks after we eat?" Francesca asked.
"Yeah."
"I'll pass. Smells too much like cigarette smoke."
"We'll just have drinks at Brett's Waterway Café." He pointed toward the sun. "If there is a breeze the gnats won't be bad and we can sit outside on the patio."
"I like that idea better."
They walked past a bookstore. An author sat at a table on the sidewalk signing his latest thriller novel. The setting sun glistened across beads of sweat on the author's bald head. Florida heat in early September was referred to as the dog days. And with 90 % humidity, it felt like a sauna. Hot, sticky, and muggy.
The patrons sitting outside on the patio looked miserable, constantly wiping the sweat from their faces with their napkins. They opted to dine inside the cool air-conditioned restaurant.
"I'm sorry about your vacation with Kyli. She was really looking forward to it. I'm sure you were as well." Francesca brushed her hair behind her ear and smiled. "She had a big surprise in store for your second week."
"What was it?"
"Sorry. Not telling. She may still surprise you with it."
Jake ordered his second Margarita while Francesca drank white wine. While they waited for their drinks they sat silent, like an old married couple who had been together many years.
"Jake?" Francesca's voice went softer. "She's in love with you, you know?"
"We have feelings for each other but let's not get carried away. What makes you think that anyway?"
Francesca was about to speak when the waitress brought their drinks. Jake stirred his Margarita with his straw.
"Look, Jake. A woman can tell these things. I could see it in her eyes when she was telling me about the things she had planned for you two."
"I think she was just excited about the trip. Kyli wanted it to be an adventure."
"Wake up, Jake." Francesca's voice changed again. "Kyli is head over heels in love with you and you better start thinking about how you feel about her and how you're going to handle this when it comes up." She raised her finger. "And it will come up. Probably sooner than later."
"I'm a big boy. I can handle it."
"Well, keep one thing in mind." Francesca shook her finger at him. "Kyli is your boss's granddaughter and if it comes down to it, he'll pick her over you any day."
"I already know that." Jake took a long draw from the straw and swallowed. "He made that point perfectly clear last year on Ios Island."
"Then don't you dare break her heart." Francesca picked up her glass and took a sip of wine. "Or I swear to God I'll shoot you myself."
The doorbell caught him by surprise, especially at this late hour. Evan Makley glanced at his watch and strode toward the door, pausing only long enough to check his appearance in the foyer mirror. His still had on his slacks from earlier in the day; his starched dress shirt untucked but still holding its press. He was barefoot, but it was his apartment after all.
The box above the door chimed again and again in rapid succession. Whoever it was, wasn't very patient. He stuck his eye to the peephole and saw a familiar woman's figure standing in front of the fisheye lens, Abigail Love. A flood of worrisome thoughts made him shudder.
Makley jerked the door open. "Abigail, what are you doing here?" He leaned out of the doorway and craned his head left and right. "Did anyone see you come in the building?"