“Yeah, I wonder, too,” he added to her thoughts.
“I almost dread it. I don’t know why exactly; perhaps it’s because of all that has happened with George Kelshaw, the letter and the break-in at the Center, that detective,” alluding to Maxwell, “And everything.” The words were tumbling out, “Is it worth it, Andrew? I can’t tell anymore. Ultimately it won’t change anything.”
“Charlie, you need the answer about Paul. If Coleman can shed some light it will be worth it. Being apprehensive is natural. You know that I want to help in any way that I can; I want that more than anything right now. This whole thing with Kelshaw isn’t over yet, for any of us. Remember what Evan Scott told us and I’m going to be here, trust me.”
They were standing now facing each other, ready to say goodnight when she stepped toward him. His arms went around her and he whispered, “Charlene, let me stay, I don’t want to leave you,” he said shakily.
She nodded pressing her head into his shoulder, “I want you to stay.”
Her bedroom was not the shrine for Paul Thayer that Andrew had imagined it would be. There was a small picture of him with Charlene on her dresser. He was in uniform and she was smiling, obviously at a happier time. Charlie read his thoughts as she watched him study the photo. “That was taken at Carlisle Barracks shortly after we were married.”
“You looked happy.”
“I was, we were.”
“He was a good looking guy.”
“Yes, he was; Andrew, if this is awkward for you I..I,” she stammered, turning away.
“Hey, hey,” half whispering solicitously, he gently took her arm and turned her toward him. “Not awkward; it could never be awkward with you. I‘ll leave right now if you want me to, but I hope you don’t.”
“No, oh no.” Her arms were around him. He kissed her again and again, murmuring her name, catching the fragrance of her hair against his cheek.
In bed he found tenderness within himself toward her that he wouldn’t have believed possible. Her passion surprised him and pleased him and when sleep came she rested quietly against him.
Andrew knew he was no longer falling in love with this woman he was already there, how it would play out only God knew, but for now he had found a space of absolute contentment.
Chapter 10
Wednesday, September 24, 1980
It was shortly before 10:00 AM when the non-stop commercial jet landed at SeaTac International and first class passenger Bradley Coleman deplaned. He quickly made his way to the rental car reserved for him and was soon on the way to Seattle.
His reservations had been made at the Olympic Hotel. Brad was given a VIP suite and after briefly freshening up, he telephoned Charlene. They would have lunch at the hotel at 11:30.
Brad placed a call to the law firm of Ramsey and Carr next. “Lyle, I would like to meet with you tomorrow morning, early, say 8:00, I believe we have a great deal to discuss.”
“Of course, General Coleman, 8:00 will be fine. I’ll make certain we have as much time as you need.”
“That’s fine, I’ll be there.” Brad hung up abruptly.
Brad was waiting as Charlene entered the lobby of the gracious old Olympic Hotel. Its quiet elegance was on the verge of a major facelift scheduled for the following year. Still, it radiated the same warm burnished class seen in a hand-rubbed object, made richer by use. Among its past clients it boasted ex-Presidents, Senators and business moguls.
He watched her for a moment or two before greeting her. She looked much the same as the last time he had seen her. Today, however, she was not worn in grief as she had been when he and Olivia had stood beside her as Paul’s coffin was lowered into the grave.
“Charlene,” he exclaimed. “It is so good to see you. You look absolutely wonderful!”
“You look wonderful, too, General,” she said in admiration. “Brad, I think all this work and rank has agreed with you.” she said smiling. “I am very glad to see you; did you have a good flight?”
“Yes, let’s have lunch and then we’ll try to get to the bottom of this sad business,” he announced confidently taking her arm and guiding her toward the dining room.
Charlene looked at Brad. Other than a few more lines around his eyes he really hadn’t changed very much. Brad was a survivor. It was funny that she would think in terms of ‘survivors’; Paul used to joke about being a survivor. He always said that he had Thayer luck. One of his ancestors had survived the sinking of the Titanic so the myth was born. Like so many myths it ended when Paul died.
Over lunch they enjoyed exchanging information on what had been happening in their lives. He told her that their daughter, Maureen was in Virginia Beach, doing an internship with the State of Virginia’s Department of Natural Resources.
“How interesting. You and Olivia must be terribly proud of her as I’m sure she is of you. The air is quite rarified around you these days, Brad. You have come a long way since…” her voice dropped.
“Yes, Olivia and I are very pleased with Maureen and the course she has chosen. Now I’d like to see her marry well and settle down. But I’m afraid she seems to be attracted to the honest, but poor dedicated young men whose ideals outweigh their bank accounts. I have agreed to let her finish this internship as long as there are no romantic entanglements, so she’s keeping her nose to the grindstone. Olivia is in Virginia Beach visiting her now.
“As for me, yes, Charlene, good fortune has certainly smiled on this not so ‘old soldier’. Fortunately, I did make right choices along the way,” he continued, verbally preening himself. “I enjoy what I do very much. It’s important work. It’s too bad that we lost Paul when we did. He would have gone far as well, I’m sure. I don’t suppose you have the letter you believe to be from him, with you, do you?”
“No, as a matter of fact, I thought it would be better to let you read it in privacy at my house, I hope you don’t mind,” she stated. She was thinking how pompous Brad had become! Paul would never have been filled with so much self importance if he had lived a hundred more years.
The idea of going to her house pleased Brad. “I think that is an excellent idea.” The more privacy the better, he thought.
Brad followed her; as they entered the house she heard the phone ringing. Running to grab it she had just said “Hello” as Andrew started to hang up.
“Hi, you’re not alone, right?” he asked hearing her voice. “Is everything okay?”
“That’s right and everything is fine, Andrew. My friend General Coleman has just arrived. We just finished lunch and have some things to discuss. Call me later and we can talk then.”
“Maybe I should come over; what do you think?”
“I think not, just call me later.”
“All right, but watch yourself and…”
She cut him off, “I will, Andrew. Thank you again, and we’ll talk later, goodbye.”
Coleman was watching her with curiosity. “Do I detect a person of interest Charlene?”
“Just a good friend, Brad,” she said softly, thinking of last night and feeling a slight twinge of guilt for the lie.
“Well, let’s get to this letter, shall we?”
“Of course.” Charlene went to her desk and brought out the letter, opened it and handed it to Brad. She watched his face as he read and reread the letter.
“Who did you say gave you this letter?” Brad asked seriously.
“His name was George Kelshaw, but he didn’t actually give it to me.”
“Tell me about this Kelshaw, who is he?” Brad interjected.