Darkroom (26 page)

I’m sitting on the bench outside the congregational meeting hall. If only I could call his cell phone. If anything were to happen to him, I would feel terrible. And responsible. Even though it was his own idea to go into El Centro as a decoy.

“You look like the girl who got stood up on prom night.” Kyle takes a seat next to me. The bench is narrow and we’re shoulder to shoulder.

“I’m worried.”

“You guys should’ve talked to me first. I wouldn’t have let him do it. By now, we’ve probably got both Homeland and the FBI looking for us. Not to mention that psycho hitman pretending to be a Homeland agent.”

“You think they got to Jake?”

“Hope not.” Kyle ponders this and repositions himself by lifting his arm. Which he naturally puts to rest behind me on the back of the bench. If we were kids on a date, this would be known as the yawn-stretch move. I’m too worried about Jake to debate Kyle’s intentions though. “What do we really know about him?”

“Why do you ask?”

“We just met him, you know. I just don’t know what I think about your being so close—”

“Close?”

“That didn’t come out right.”

“Didn’t it?”

“I’m just saying. He’s on a critical mission, one that could put any or all of us in danger. And he’s a minister for—for heaven’s sake. What he’s doing requires high-level field and surveillance training.”

“I know, but … It was either he takes it, or I go alone. Even if he came with me, I’d be exposed. And after yesterday, well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“I get it.” He lets out a long breath. “And no, I wouldn’t have let you go out there either. I just wish you’d spoken with me. I might have been able to do it.”

“You said we had to get rid of the GPS right away. And besides, you were recovering.”

“Do you trust him, Xandra?”

That makes me stop and think. Strange, I never asked myself that question. I want to say yes, definitely. But I can’t. “I don’t know.”

A pair of doves walk down the gravelly road. Their cooing fades as they vanish. Over the treetops, an amber veil casts itself over the sky, while the fingers of a gentle breeze run through my hair. The firmness against which my back leans is not the bench but Kyle’s arm and shoulder. Exactly when we’d drawn so close eludes me. I must have felt his warmth, but it feels so intrinsical, I don’t question it.

Kyle leans over. The warmth of his breath tickles my ear. “Do you trust me?”

I turn to face him, only to find his burnished eyes gazing intently into mine. I’ve heard somewhere that there are moments in life—rare moments—in which we make a spiritual connection with another human being. A connection so profound, so utterly real, that words cannot suffice in its description. It’s a mutual
recognition that something greater than either of you has ordained this very moment. This beautiful and yet infuriatingly enigmatic man has risked so much for me. And he asks if I trust him? “With my life.”

With his hand resting warmly on my face, he presses his lips to my brow. Fearing this moment will atomize at the slightest disturbance, I dare not breathe. The warmth of his hand flows through my entire being. Through it, I sense the anguish of decades, a longing for truth and meaning, a thirst for culmination.

Our lips touch, like a spark igniting a long fuse. I cannot help but fall into his embrace as we kiss like lovers reunited. I have needed him.

My arms entwine his sturdy body. Gasping between kisses, I open my lips to say his name. Nothing but short breaths come forth. Finally, “I do, Kyle. I do trust you.”

“You’re safe with me. I promise.”

“I know.” A pang of dread pierces my heart. “I know.” Soon I’m trembling, trying not to cry.

“What’s the matter?” Tenderly, he wipes my tears with his thumb.

“I’m just so …”

Holding my gaze, his own eyes shimmer, reflecting the twilight sky.

“Everything. I’m happy, I’m grateful …”

“But?”

“But I’m scared. Kyle, I’m scared.”

He holds me tight, reassures me that everything is going to be all right. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, don’t worry.”

“No, it’s not that.” I touch his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever known such joy, such understanding. I’m so afraid of losing you!”

“You won’t. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

One of the doves flies out from behind the shrubs and sings a doleful dirge as it ascends the heavens alone. Until the sun has
completely expired, and the moon and stars have taken their places in the firmament, I remain nestled in Kyle’s protecting arms, the occasional sighing and cooing floating up with the steam of my breath. Oh, that this moment would last.

But it never does.

63

Jake returns, the headlights of the car reminiscent of a panther’s feral eyes. It’s about seven forty-five. He climbs out, looking worn.

Filled with relief, and a bit of annoyance, I run to him. “What took you so long?” I almost scold him the way Mom would scold me as a teenager for staying out past my curfew—which only happened once or twice.

Maybe three times.

“I might have erred on the side of extremely overcautious,” Jake says and hands me the keys. Kyle limps over. “But I reconnected the transceiver in a parking deck in downtown El Centro, left it on for about half an hour. I’ll tell you, every car that passed by scared the daylights out of me. I thought for sure I’d be arrested.”

“What about the transponder?” Kyle says.

“I disconnected it and tossed it in a pond fifty miles east of El Centro. They’ll think you’ve gone to Arizona.”

Kyle sucks his teeth. “Not that simple.”

“But thank you.” I give Jake’s hand a squeeze, discreetly.

“We’ve got a long day tomorrow, Xandra. Lots to do.” Kyle starts back to the rectory. “We should get an early start.”

“Are you up to it?” Jake asks him.

“I’m just fine, thanks.”

“Because if you’re feeling too weak, you can stay and rest up as long as you—”

“I said I’m fine!”

I turn to Kyle and pat his chest, the way I’d pat Oscar, our old Labrador, whenever he’d bark aggressively at visitors to the house. “Hey, take it easy.”

Kyle turns and walks back into the rectory. “Early start in the morning. That’s when we’ll be leaving, Pastor.”

Oh, we will?
I’m tempted to make a snappy comeback and say something to the effect of having to consult with me before trying to dictate my schedule. But he’s right. We’ve lost precious time and must get going.

Jake looks at me. “What’s gotten into him?”

“Never mind him. Thank you so much for helping us with the transponder.”

“Glad to be of service.”

“There’s one last thing.”

“Yes?”

“Eli wants to speak with you.”

64

Kyle had hoped to avoid seeing people when we left, but in the end everyone came out to say good-bye. Even Eli. Kyle thanked him for saving his life. Eli even came to me and said in a conciliatory voice, “You’re a good girl. Be careful out there. Don’t let the darkness overtake you.”

Whatever had been troubling Kyle last night didn’t seem like much of an issue this morning. He shook hands and patted backs with Jake like a good sport.

When it was time for me to bid Jake farewell, I felt my face heat up. We shook hands, but soon thought it silly and hugged instead. “You’re a godsend, Jake. I can’t believe how lucky we were to meet you.”

“Not luck. Everything’s connected, remember.”

“Of course.”

“See you soon, Xandra.”

Just as I was about to get into the car, Rebecca came running. She held a rag doll up to my face. “Xandi, this is Dolly.”

“Hello, Dolly.”

“I told her she needs to go with you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Uh huh.” She puts Dolly in my hands. “Whenever I get scared at night, I just hold her, and we pray together.”

“Well, thank you Becky. I’ll take good care of her.”

“And remember to spin a little, every day.” With a wide grin, sans front teeth, she curtseys.

After winding through manifold unnamed roads some twenty miles from the colony, the nearest 7-Eleven stands like an oasis. No cell phones on our persons: they were turned off long ago and buried in the barn where the morning cows went to get milked. It’s all part of the plan.

We’re discreet, Kyle in sunglasses and baseball cap courtesy of Pastor Jake, and I hiding in the restroom while he makes his purchases. I’ll confess, his confidence and skill are as attractive as his chiseled features.

Three minutes later we’re driving into Nowheresville with breakfast burritos, coffee, and a white, green, and red plastic bag full of prepaid cell phones and calling cards.

I reach for a bacon-and-cheese burrito and cup of coffee, the aroma of which wafts up into my nose and makes my mouth water. “How much did all that cost?”

“Most of my cash. We’ll have to be careful how we spend from now on.”

“My credit cards are maxed, and I’ve got less than a hundred dollars on my debit card, not that I can use it anyway.” Not with my every financial transaction being tracked.

It’s the first cup of coffee I’ve had in what feels like years. It might as well be a magical elixir, judging by the way my entire body awakens to the mere scent of it. While I drink and nibble on my breakfast, Kyle makes a call on one of the new phones. All the technical jargon he employs discourages me from eavesdropping, so I just tune him out for the duration of the call.

“Thanks, Glen, I owe you.” Kyle ends the call and hands me the cell phone. “Communications are set.”

“Great. Who’s Glen?”

“An IT-Telecom engineer back at the field office. I’ve worked
with him for years. He’s helped me on more cases than I’d like to remember, or admit.”

“How is he going to help us?”

“By getting a prepaid cell phone, calling cards, and dialing instructions to your father so we can reduce the chances of detection when we communicate.”

“Isn’t your friend in Virginia?”

“One of the advantages of knowing a guy who spends his whole life on the internet: he’s got friends all over the world.”

“You think his Facebook buddies are reliable?”

“Facebook?”

I let out a frustrated grunt. “You
know
what I mean.”

“If Glen says his friend will do it …” But Kyle doesn’t finish his sentence, and the half he did speak lacked conviction. “It’ll happen.”

“How can you be certain?”

“Because if he lets me down, he’s a dead man.”

I roll my eyes. “Lovely.”

He shrugs, and after a few minutes of neither of us speaking, he turns on the radio. A sleazy talk-show host is yelling.

“What do you expect? I’m telling you, this Carrick chick is guilty as sin! She’s probably doing that FBI agent and running off to South America with a boatload of embezzled money. But hey! I say, if you can get away with it, rock on! Run, baby. Run like the wind!”

“That’s not particularly helpful.” I smack the dial and shut off the radio.

“Hey, I was listening to that.” Kyle turns it back on.

“Try a less trashy station.”

Through the dark lenses of his shades, he glares at me and then turns the dial. This time he stops on NPR. The announcer goes on to speak about the elections.

“… and today, on the eve of the election, Independent presidential candidate Richard Colson has the analysts on the edge of their seats. Most predict that he will win.”

“At least there’s some good news there.”

Kyle scoffs. “You can’t be serious. Colson?”

“Yeah. He’s got my vote. What about you?”

“Not.”

“Oh let me guess, you’re a Republican.”

“What if I were?”

“Are you kidding? Haven’t you had enough of the current regime?”

“He isn’t on the ticket. And I don’t trust Colson. Something about him.”

“It’s not in your nature to trust, is it? Anyway, Colson reminds me of my father.”

With a smirk Kyle says, “Oh so that’s it. He reminds you of Daddy?”

“Quiet, you.” Disarmed by his attempt at ribbing me, I jab him with my elbow. At which he lets out a hissing groan.

“Ow! Watch it!” It was his wound.

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, sure.”

We’ve kept clear of the freeway and taken many a back road. After forty-five minutes of driving, we arrive at Larry’s Preowned Cars. By some strange maneuvering, Kyle has persuaded Larry to lend us a car. I use the terms “persuade” and “lend” in their broadest sense.

“So you’ll take this Camry that Larry has so graciously loaned us, and I’ll take Srinivasu’s limo,” Kyle says, holding the door open for me. I slide into the driver’s seat and adjust the seat.

“Are we going to split up?”

“No. We’re going to drive together to a lake five miles from here and sink Sri’s car. From there, we’ll take the Camry. And go straight to Hank Jennings—”

“No. I told you, we go to my father first.”

“He’s in Del Mar, Xandra. Alpine’s the opposite way. If there’s any chance of stopping these people, we’re going to have to find out if anyone unusual has contacted Jennings.”

“I will not put a stranger before my family.”

We’re raising our voices now. Kyle sees that and comes to the window, leans on it, and calms himself. In a patronizing tone that irritates me to no end, he says: “I don’t think you understand.”

“Don’t I?”

“This conspiracy goes beyond any one government agency. I’ve put everything on the line to expose it.”

My jaw falls open. “So you want me to put my father on the line for one of your cases! I should have known. That’s all that matters, your investigation. You betrayed me in New York, and you’re doing it again now!”

“Look, that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“But it did!”

“How many times do I need to apologize for that? I’ll say it again if it makes you feel better: I’m sorry, all right? But right now—”

“This is not just some pet case of yours, Kyle! It’s my father’s life. It’s my life!”

He lets out a long breath and speaks slowly, as if by doing so, I will understand better. “You really don’t understand, Xandra. The first—”