Meant for Her (7 page)

Hank!

She had to save Hank! She knew he was in this house, burning in the fire that had been meant for her alone. Desperate to find him, she threw back the covers on the bed and got up, standing face-to-face with a burned-out skeleton in a Navy officer’s uniform.

The screaming wouldn’t stop this time. Flames broke through the door to the bedroom. Nurse Gwen stood next to an eye chart emblazoned with the beginning of the cipher from the safe deposit box. “Cover your left eye, please. What does this say?” she asked Julie.

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” she wailed. The dead body in the Navy uniform grabbed at her arms, shaking her. “Get off of me! Let me go!” she wailed in horror.

“Julie!” Shouted the corpse. “Julie! Wake up! It’s just a dream!”

“Get off of me! I have to find Hank!” she screamed, yanking her arms free of her captor and connecting with the solid bones of his face.

“Julie! It’s me! It’s Hank! Wake up!”

Hank was here? Confusion had her fiery dream evaporating into nothingness. Slowly the weight of her eyelids lifted and she saw Hank’s face just inches from her own in the darkness.

Her hysterical screaming stopped, and a relief-stricken wail began. He was okay. He was safe from the fire. “You’re all right,” she said between great gasps of air.

He wrapped her into his arms, pulling her tightly against his chest as he spoke in a calming voice.  “I’m fine. You were having a bad dream. Everything’s okay now.” He cuddled her against his warm body, gently stroking her hair.

“Everything was on fire. My father was there, and he was…” she tried to find the words to describe her gruesome vision, “burned. It was horrible.”

Julie wiped her eyes, her hands shaking.

“How awful for you.”

She realized that Hank had actually seen her father after the fire, and cringed at the thought. She didn’t want to imagine what he had seen, didn’t want to know he had seen it.

“There was a generator with a severed cord. And Gwen was there in a nurse’s uniform, trying to give me a telegram.”

“It sounds like your mind has had a lot to take in over the last couple of days.”

“Yes.” She snuggled closer to his chest, burying her face in his T-shirt.

“Was I in your dream?” he asked, his fingers tentatively stroking her shoulder. “You called my name.”

“Yes,” she said, suddenly shy. “I couldn’t see you, but I knew you were in the building and the fire was going to get you. I was trying to save you.” She left out the part about the wedding gown.

Hank gently rubbed her back and she felt her body slowly relax into the mattress. “Hank?”

“Mmm hmm?”

“Are we safe here?”

“Of course.”

“Are you sure they don’t know where we are?”

“I’m positive. No one followed us here, and I didn’t tell anyone where we went.”  He hadn’t even told Barstow, a fact which might come back to haunt him.  “How else would someone know where we are?”

“I don’t know.”

Hank’s brow furrowed as Julie settled back into the crook of his arm and fell back asleep.

If Julie was correct, then not only were she and Gwen in danger, but his entire family. Hank gave himself a mental shake. Her bad feeling could not be based in fact.

They hadn’t been followed, of that he was certain. He had deliberately set the GPS to avoid expressways so he could better watch the cars around them. Still, his gut didn’t like this. The people who Hank loved most were gathered in this house. Was it possible he had put them all in danger by bringing Julie and Gwen here?

He laid awake in the night, Julie curled by his side, for some hours after that. His eyes finally succumbed to sleep as the first light of Christmas Eve beckoned on the horizon.

 ~~~

Julie was gone when Hank woke up to rays of bright sunshine on his face. He’d have to remember to close the blinds tonight.

He caught a whiff of coffee on the air, his mind turning to the day ahead. There must be a million things to do, and they had let him sleep late. He pulled a green polo over his head and went to see what he could do to help.

Voices flowed up the stairway, the sound reminiscent of a million other family get-togethers. For a moment, he imagined his father downstairs with the others, talking and laughing over morning coffee. Hank’s feet stilled on the top step, his eyes landing on the familiar photograph of him with his dad, fishing poles in their hands.

For just a moment, he was sure he could feel his father’s comforting presence, smell the scent that belonged to him alone.

I love you, Dad.

Hank walked down the steps, smiling, suddenly certain his father would not miss Kelly’s wedding after all.

“Well, look who finally decided to get out of bed,” said Marianne. She was standing at the sink filling a large coffee urn with water, her warm smile contrasting her reproachful tone. “We were going to sneak in and take turns poking you with a stick in another half an hour.”

“You should have woken me.”

Gwen, Kelly and Julie sat at the table, working on something small with their hands. Julie stood up, flashing Hank a bright smile. “Merry Christmas Eve, sweetie,” she said, leaning in for a quick peck on the lips. Hank’s jaw dropped open. “Want some coffee?”

“That’d be great.”

She walked to the counter and poured coffee from a Thermos. Hank watched as she put in one scoop of sugar and a small splash of milk. Someone had been paying attention when they stopped for coffee yesterday.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the cup from her. He could get used to this.

“Gwen’s making wedding bands for the ceremony today,” said Julie.

“Just temporaries,” said Gwen. “I don’t think the bride and groom want to wear jewelry made out of paperclips forever.”

“They’re so beautiful, we just might,” said Kelly. “Look, Hank.”

She walked to him, holding something out for him to see. It was an intricate weaving of silver metal, strung with what appeared to be shining blue gemstones and glittering diamonds.

“That’s incredible. You made that out of paperclips? What did you use for stones?”

“The colored ones are beads from Gwen’s necklace, and the diamond-like ones are tiny crystals.”

Hank eyed Gwen incredulously. “You just happened to have those things with you?”

“It was the strangest thing,” said Gwen. “I was packing for our adventure and I stopped short as I was about to head downstairs. I forgot my beaded blue topaz necklace, I thought to myself. I hadn’t intended to bring it, mind you. But after years of these kinds of thoughts you know when to listen.”

She threaded a tiny blue bead onto a thick wire. “So I grabbed the necklace out of my jewelry box and asked the universe,” she said dramatically, raising her head up high, “Is there anything else I need to bring? Then I thought about those crystals in my studio. So I grabbed those, too.”

A chill ran up Hank’s spine.

“Does that happen to you a lot?” asked Kelly, sitting back down.

Gwen touched the younger woman’s hand on the table. “It does.”

Next to Hank, Julie stepped on her tip toes and whispered in his ear. “Can opener.” At his quizzical look, she nodded in Gwen’s direction.

“The first time it ever happened, I was in college,” said Gwen. “I was leaving my dorm room to go to class when I thought, ‘Oh, I’ve forgotten my can opener.’ I didn’t need a can opener for class, of course.” She took a sip of her coffee. “That day at lunch, a friend pulled out a can of soup, but had forgotten to bring a can opener. I said, ‘That would explain why I brought this.’”

“That’s amazing,” said Kelly.

“It is. Very helpful, too,” she said with a wink.

Hank turned thoughtful eyes to Julie, remembering her concerns for their safety here at the house. “Does that ever happen to you?”

“Never.”

“I’m afraid the universe lacks a large enough sledge hammer with which to hit my niece over the head,” said Gwen.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Julie.

“It means you know more than you are willing to admit, even to yourself.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Turning to Hank, she smiled and slipped her arm around his waist. “Can I help with anything today?”

He nearly spit coffee all over himself. “I have no idea.” Just to see what she would do, he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, dumbfounded when she settled pleasantly at his side. He shook his head. “What needs to be done, Ma?”

“More than you can possibly imagine. I have a list for you,” she said, reaching to the bulletin board on the side of the refrigerator and handing him a piece of paper. He was oddly pleased to see his name scrawled across the top of it, just as he imagined it would be. “You’re in charge of setting up the big things at the church hall. The tables and chairs, the buffet and the bar. Steve will go with you.”

“I can handle that. Are the tables and chairs being delivered or do I need to pick them up?”

“Delivered. They should be there already. You need to go to the liquor store and stock the bar. Mid-shelf, Hank. No cheap stuff, nothing too expensive either.” Marianne stirred an enormous pot with a spoon nearly three feet long.

“Julie, how would you feel about doing the decorations? I would head over there myself, but I need to stay here and work on the food.”

“I’m almost done with these rings, Marianne. I’d be happy to give you a hand with the cooking,” said Gwen.

“That would be wonderful,” said Marianne, her shoulders dropping and a sigh escaping as she worked.

“And I,” said Julie, “will decorate. What do you have in mind, Kelly?”

“A winter wonderland,” she said excitedly. “The centerpieces are done, but not much else. The church hall was supposed to be vacant yesterday so I could get in there take care of it myself, but there was a funeral reception so nothing is finished. I have a lot of materials, but no real plans. There must be hundreds of yards of red ribbon alone.”

“What else do you have?”

“Gold spray paint, white snow paint, oodles of fake snow, a few artificial Christmas trees, gold glitter, a whole mess of evergreen garland…”

“Julie,” Hank interrupted. “I’m going to wash up so we can head over to the church. About fifteen minutes?” asked Hank.

“Sure. I’ll be ready.” She flashed him a radiant smile. “What do you have in mind for the head table?”

 ~~~

Julie pulled the door to the SUV closed behind her and reached for her notebook on the middle console. “Isn’t Steve coming with us?” she asked.

“He’s meeting us there.”

She opened to a clean page, intending to work on the cipher, and found her thoughts drifting to her father. An unconscious frown came over her face.

“You okay?”

“This message is beginning to drive me crazy,” she said, then decided to tell him the truth. “And I miss my dad. I miss my dad a lot.”

He took the key out of the ignition and turned to face her. “I’m missing my dad a lot today, too.”

She nodded, feeling tears begin to build up in her eyes. She didn’t want to have this conversation with him, but she was wise enough to see that she needed it.

“It’s been so busy, coming here. Everything that’s going on. I haven’t had a chance…”

“To mourn.”

She nodded vigorously, an embarrassing sob escaping as she did.

“I just want to crawl under a rock and be alone for a while.”

He bowed his head. “I know. I wish I could give you that chance.” His lips pressed together in a thin line. “We could pretend you’re sick, but I really would feel better if you were with me.”

“I’d feel better, too. I’m just babbling.”

He reached for her hand and held it. “You’re not babbling. And you’re entitled to feel however you feel.”

She took a deep breath and took her hand back from Hank’s, again reaching for the notebook in her lap.

“Chip,” he said, digging in his pocket for his cell phone.

“He never called you back?”

“No.”

This is Chip Vandermead. I can’t take your call right now…

Hank sighed. “Chip, it’s Hank. I’m getting worried. Call me when you get this.” He hung up the phone and started the engine.

“Do you think she had the babies?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s the alternative?”

Hank’s eyes met hers as he pulled out of the driveway. “I don’t know that either. That’s what worries me.” He turned his windshield wipers on as snow began to collect on the glass. “Tell me something. If Chip can’t crack that code, why are you so confident you’ll be able to?”

“Gwen says it was meant for me. That my father wrote it, intending for me to be able to read it.”

“Chip said that short codes are harder to break.”

“As a rule, they are. Often it’s impossible. But Gwen’s right—if my father wanted me to be able to read this, he would have made sure to use a cipher or symbol I would recognize.”

The moment she said the words, Julie froze. In the space of an instant, she understood what her subconscious had been trying to tell her since she first saw the secret message.

“Oh my God. Oh my God! A cipher I would recognize!” she yelled, clutching Hank’s arm. “Let me use your phone, please!”

“What is it? What do you recognize?”

Grabbing Hank’s phone, she opened the web browser and typed in the first six characters of the cipher from memory. Clever bastard, she thought, smiling at his ingenuity as she used the internet to quickly confirm what she already knew.

“The first line of the cipher isn’t part of his message at all. It’s the beginning of a message that got King Leopold the Fourth executed for espionage in the Fourteenth Century!” she smacked his upper arm, a big grin lighting her face.

“Your father knew you would realize
that
?”

“He taught me the Leopold cipher when I was little. It was fun for a kid, because you make this decoder out of rings on a dowel. I brought it to show and tell.”

“Sounds like a secret decoder ring.”

“It is sort of, yes.”

“So now you can decode the message.”

Julie scoffed. “Not even close. Knowing the type of cipher is half the battle. I still need to break the code.”