"Freddy, Freddy, Freddy," Hal sighed. "You two wait here."
He adjusted his sport coat, flexed his neck, and marched into Carabetta's office. Fifteen minutes later he emerged and motioned Matt and Nikki out of the reception area and into the hallway.
"Are you sure you can get us back to the cave at night?" he asked.
"Positive. Once we're through the cleft, there are no real forks in the tunnel, just twists and turns. Finding the cleft may be the hard part."
"Don't worry about that. I know where it is," Hal said. "I grew up running through those hills. Well, the news is, it's going to be tomorrow night. You'll both stay at my place until then. We'll put your motorcycle in the garage, Matt. You both can just relax, empty the fridge, and watch videos until Fred arrives."
"You did it!" Matt exclaimed, pumping his fists. "Way to go!"
Then, just as quickly, he dropped his hands. "Hal, you had to pay him, didn't you?"
"I was hoping your enthusiasm and persuasiveness would win him over, but the truth is, all along I suspected it would come down to money. Fred and I have had such dealings once before, and believe me, I'm not the only one."
"Can you tell me how much he cost? I want to help if I can."
"Being right about this cave is all you are required to contribute. And as for how, um, difficult Fred was to convince, let's just say that at the moment my uncle points should be at an all-time high."
"Well, you sure have a hell of a grateful nephew. And don't worry — unless they buried it, the dump's still there. Speaking of which, the guards may be there as well."
"I thought about that," Hal said. "I actually have made a few inquiries searching for someone who deals with such things professionally and might accompany us. Now that I know when we'll be going, I'll make a call."
Matt gave his uncle a hug.
"You know, there's no reason you have to go in there," he said.
"On the contrary," Hal replied. "With the sudden investment I have in Freddy Carabetta, I wouldn't miss this for the world."
Ellen awoke to an unpleasant buzzing in her head. An unnatural film covered her tongue and palate. Well, she thought disdainfully, it had certainly been a blue-ribbon day. All she had done was gotten drunk in front of Rudy, passed out, and now was in the slow process of waking up with a nasty Merlot hangover, having managed still to say absolutely nothing of what she had done. And to make matters worse, a two-day-old girl was just forty-eight hours from the first formal dose of a supervaccine containing a component specifically included to halt a lethal epidemic that Ellen now knew was totally man-made.
She held her eyes closed tightly, wary of the dreadful spinning likely to ensue from opening them. Finally, more to check the time than anything else, she forced her lids apart a bit. The walls and ceiling stayed reasonably still. She was in Rudy's guest room, not, she suddenly realized, in the chair where she had nodded off. She was dressed as she had been, and still covered with the maroon throw. The curtains were drawn, but there was enough light to check her watch. Five. Assuming it was the same day, she had been out for four and a half hours. Not bad for a rank amateur.
She rolled over and switched on the bedside lamp. There was a single, beautiful, long-stemmed rosebud in a vase beside the lamp. And propped against the vase was an envelope identical to the one she had torn open. Her name and address were written on the outside in Rudy's hand, and in the upper right-hand corner was a stamp with today's postage. Her hands shaking, she gently opened the envelope.
Dear Ellen,
So, now you know. What a relief! I have debated more times than I can count whether to send the letter or hand it to you or wait. Now whichever fate decides such things has taken the choice from me. Well, so be it. I love you, and the next time I see you I'll probably tell you to your face. There is no need for you to respond one way or the other when I do.
Please don't let what I wrote change our friendship. That would hurt me as no rejection from you ever could. I have dealt with my feelings for you for many years. If necessary, I'll deal with them for many more. Please don't feel bad over having opened the letter. It was meant to be.
And for God's sake, no more Merlot.
With love, Rudy
Ellen washed her face with cold water and brushed her hair and teeth.
A fine-looking woman for your age. That's what Howard had said. Rudy Peterson hadn't even mentioned her age — or his, for that matter. He loved her thirty-nine years ago; he loved her today. She had, in many ways, been frozen since the day Howard left — her feelings tightly bound. Maybe it was time to open up. How much better could a woman ever do than her oldest, dearest friend?
A final check in the mirror and she went out to meet him. Rudy was seated at his dining room table, his unlit pipe resting loosely between his teeth, pages of data spread out before him, along with a large atlas of the world. Ellen slipped into the seat across from him, then slowly reached her hands over the table and took his.
"Thanks for the rose and the note," she said.
"Thanks for taking the pressure off."
"I can't really say anything in response right now."
"I didn't expect you to."
"But I'm going to be looking hard at my feelings and I'll certainly keep you posted."
"What more could a guy ask?"
"You're really a very wonderful man, Rudy."
"I know," he said. "Just cursed by being really, really choosy."
Ellen felt herself blush.
"So," she said, clearing her throat, "what do you have there?"
"Well, I have an old friend, a lawyer, who works at the IRS. He wouldn't give me any more information except to say that Vinyl Sutcher exists, filed a tax return last year, and lives right where his passport says."
"West Virginia."
"Tullis, to be exact. It's right here, not too far from the Virginia border."
"I know the police chief in my town pretty well. I'm sure he'll run this man Vinyl through his computer for me. Maybe he could even check with the police in Tullis to see if they know anything about him. If I have to, I'll just take a drive over there and meet with the police myself. Let me just call Beth and make sure she's still okay with getting Lucy to school."
Ellen caught her daughter just as she was leaving the house.
"Hi, Mom. I only have a minute. Lucy's got a dentist appointment. We can't be late because they clear the office out when they have to work on her."
"I know," Ellen said understandingly.
"It takes the whole damn staff to keep her still and she screams like a banshee. It makes sense they should clear the place out. I mean, who would ever want their kid to hear that in a dentist's office? Everything else she doesn't react enough to, but this — "
"I know," Ellen cut in quickly. "Honey, just hang in there. That's all you can do. You're doing a great job."
"Last night Dick started talking again about adopting. Mom, I just can't, I…"
Ellen could tell Beth was coming unglued. There was a time when she was strong, competent, and centered. Not anymore.
"Beth, I was calling to see how things were going, and also to see if you're still able to handle the school run for a couple of days."
"Sure. Is everything okay?"
"Everything's fine. Just some commission stuff I need to take care of. I'll call you."
"Okay."
"And Beth?"
"Yes?"
"I meant what I said. You're a terrific mom." She set the receiver down. "Dentist day is even tougher on Beth than on Lucy."
"You're right, she is doing a great job."
Ellen shrugged off a sudden wave of melancholy.
"So, if need be," she said, "I'm all set for a trip to West Virginia. If I can get this Sutcher arrested, then I'll feel much safer about Lucy if we decide to take any action."