Finder's Fee (35 page)

Luke sat at a picnic table playing chess with Abel. He held his head low, shifted in his seat, then scratched his head. Abel
must be winning again. Judith stepped from the refurbished dining hall with a pitcher of lemonade in one hand and a bowl of ice in the other.

The month of May brought an early summer to Ridgeline. Although not nearly as warm as the air in Ontario, it was still warm enough to justify the lemonade. She walked slowly down the stairs and across the finely manicured grounds. Even though he had his back turned to her, she could see how much he had improved over the last twelve months. The weight he lost from his injury and subsequent surgeries had finally returned. She had thought him thin the first time they met, but he had grown skeletal after his injuries.

The battle had been a long one for him. The bullet had struck him in the abdomen and exited his back. By the grace of God it had missed spine and aorta, but it had done enough damage. Twice, she had been told, his heart stopped. Twice he had been revived. Even a year later, one of Judith's saddest memories was watching him rise from the deck on a metal stretcher and be swallowed by the Coast Guard helicopter.

It had taken three months to make the formerly Manna Creek Christian Camp livable again, and another nine months to expand it with better housing for the children and caretakers as well as a top-of-the-line security system. Pennington and some of his crew had been taken out of the picture, but the people who hired him still slept snug in their beds, no doubt dreaming of new ways to get what they wanted.

As Judith set the lemonade down on the picnic table, Luke said, “Don't ask.”

“I don't need to. Abel always wins.”

She looked around the camp and felt a sense of achievement greater than anything she had felt before. Some of the children played ball in the field; others played by the creek;
still others read in the shade of trees. It was Saturday and they were free to do what children do. Judith could also see several caregivers watching the children; several other men and women moved along the tree line across the field and moved through other areas of the camp. They were the private security hired to keep the next Pennington at bay.

After the incident on the yacht, authorities took the children into protective custody, then farmed them out to foster parents — a situation Judith considered intolerable. She put Gaines to work, who with the aid of a hand-chosen legal team, began to plead the children's case — all but one now orphans.

Legal matters were still pending, but they had achieved their goals. The idea came from a slowly recovering Luke. “They're special kids, Judith. They need a special place to grow up and we're in a position to make that happen.”

The sight of it all was as beautiful as it was costly. Luke and Judith poured much of their personal wealth into the camp's renovation and the hiring of the best teachers.

The sound of an approaching vehicle caused Judith to turn. A limo, long and white, rolled slowly along the small parking lot. A Jeep Cherokee with the words SECURITY painted on the doors escorted the limo. Judith had been expecting it. Security had called a few minutes before.

The limo stopped and the driver exited, stepped to the back door, and opened it. Slowly, an elderly woman wearing an ankle-length white dress exited. She paused to gain her balance then straightened. Standing by the open door, the woman gazed around the camp and smiled. Then, with the help of a cane in one hand and the support of her driver, she walked toward the picnic table.

Judith glanced around the camp and could see that the other security personnel had noticed the arrival. Judith then looked at Abel and raised an eyebrow.

“Mostly truth. New truth. Lot's of old evil.”

Judith had come to understand the strange speech. Abel and the other children could see what others could not, the nature of the soul — more accurately, the intent of the soul. Abel had just told Judith that the woman had done evil things in her life but had changed. He and the other children distinguished between the “truth” and “The Truth.” The former referred to their intent, the latter to the giver of truth, Jesus — the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

Abel had become Judith's and Luke's teacher in many ways. Judith had never realized how often Jesus used the word “truth” in His ministry. He claimed to be the Truth, prayed His disciples would be sanctified in the truth, promised the spirit of truth, and scores of other references. Abel had also taught them that truth was not relative or subjective. Truth came from the Truth. Abel didn't use those terms, but he got the idea across.

After almost a year with the children, Judith still had many questions and sought answers diligently, but despite their great wisdom and insight into human nature, the kids were still kids, unable to explain everything they experienced. To top that, they seemed to be changing in subtle ways. Judith doubted she had seen the end of their remarkable nature.

“Checkmate,” Abel said.

“What?” Luke studied the board. “I just wanted you to feel good about yourself.”

“Yeah. Right. Sure. Whatever you say.” Abel giggled.

“Don't you ever lose?” Luke asked.

“Sure. Eva beat me yesterday.”

Luke frowned. “Eva is two years younger than you. Somehow, that doesn't make me feel any better. Go play.”

“I'm going to go help Mom. She's baking cookies.”

Abel disappeared into the dining hall. Ida would love the help. She lived at the camp, working as one of the cooks, a job she seemed to be enjoying.

“May I sit?” The elderly woman stood by the picnic table.

“Yes, please,” Judith replied. “Would you like a chair?”

“The bench will be fine. I won't be long.” The driver helped the woman lower herself. She dismissed him with a wave and he returned to the limo, taking his seat behind the wheel.

The woman looked vaguely familiar but Judith couldn't place her. Luke, however, looked stunned.

“Thank you for seeing me,” the woman said, her voice worn by years of life. “I'm sorry I couldn't give you more warning.”

“You told security at the gate that you had information about Abel.” Judith sat and poured three glasses of lemonade. One she placed in front of the woman who took a courtesy sip and set it down.

“Dr. Corvino?” Luke whispered the question. “Diane Corvino?”

Judith stiffened. Luke was right. So many years had passed and the woman had aged so much that she didn't recognize her. When Judith had last seen the woman, the scientist's hair had been chestnut brown, her skin smooth, her blue eyes bright. The woman on the bench looked nothing like that now.

“Yes, Luke. I'm Dr. Corvino.”

“Wait.” Judith turned to Luke. “You know her?”

He nodded. “Many years ago. When I was a graduate student.”

Corvino's smile was window dressing. “Am I to assume that you have not exchanged your secrets?”

Judith's mind began to spin. Missing pieces of the story were swirling in her head like leaves in a tornado. “No. We no longer believe our past matters.”

Nodding, Corvino said, “It doesn't, but knowledge of it might be helpful. You deserve the truth.” She chuckled then coughed hard. “Have you heard that word much lately? The word ‘truth,' I mean.”

“All the children talk about seeing truth and evil.” Luke seemed edgy.

“I hadn't expected that. Actually, I hadn't expected much of what has happened. The problem with being told you're smart, that you're a pioneer, is you begin to believe it. That ruined me in many ways.”

“I don't understand,” Judith admitted.

“I don't have much time, so let me explain, then I will leave you to this Eden you've created.” She closed her eyes as if imagining events of decades before. “I imagine you're starting to suspect that I am the one who set you off on your journey. I am the one who sent you the phones; the one who drafted you.”

“You?” Judith made no effort to hide her disbelief. “It was a man's voice …” She caught herself. “The voice was electronic. I started thinking the Puppeteer was male and never challenged my assumption.”

“Puppeteer?” Corvino chuckled again. “I like that. Very creative. Yes, the voice was a fabrication, a simple electronic voice that can be bought on the Internet. The electronics were
not that sophisticated and I hired a good computer genius to pull it all together.”

“And my cell phone ser vice being interrupted?” Judith pressed.

“Same computer genius. He's a kid, really. He hacked the system. That's what he called it, hacking. I paid a lot of money so he could hire someone within the cell phone firm to help him pull it off. That's the thing about this world. There's always someone who can be bought because of their greed or because of some great need. Money still makes things happen. I imagine it always will. I also hired a man to make sure the packages were delivered, including the one under the bench in the park.”

“You arranged for all of this while you were out of the country?” Luke asked.

“Of course. Distance no longer matters. That changed with the telephone. The Internet has made it even easier.”

“Why?” Judith asked, her anger coming to the surface. “Why me? Why Luke? We were almost killed.”

“Because, Judith, you could be manipulated. You were always inclined to carry guilt with you. It was your weakness decades ago and it is your weakness now. The same goes for you, Luke.”

“What you did is nothing short of heinous.” Judith started to stand, but Luke placed a hand on her arm.

“Hear her out.”

Judith froze.

“Please let me get through this, then I have a favor to ask.”

“A favor?” Judith snapped. “You have the nerve to ask favors after what you did to us?”

“Yes, I do.” Corvino seemed unbothered by Judith's outburst. “The first thing we must do is clear the table of secrets. I plan to tell you mine, and then it's time you tell each other yours. Or shall I tell it?”

“I don't see that we have to do anything you suggest, except call the police.” Judith's temper had not settled.

“If you want to send an old woman to jail, go ahead. I'll never see trial and I have enough money to bail me out of any jail. Even if I could live long enough to stand trial, I can hire enough attorneys to stall things for years.”

Luke looked puzzled. “What do you mean, ‘live long enough'?”

“I'm dying, Luke. Cancer. It's spread to enough organs to make me terminal. My existence is measured in weeks.” She looked at Judith. “It's not a sob story. We're all dying. I just happen to know what's going to get me.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Luke said.

Judith said nothing.

“I've worked through the emotion and am at peace with it, but I don't want to go to the grave without you two knowing the part of the story that affects you. It's one reason I'm here. I tell you now, or you will never know.”

Luke turned to Judith. “I began my career in graduate school. My father hired me on as a stockbroker in his firm. It turned out I had a knack for it. My instincts were good and some considered me a bit of a prodigy, a whiz kid at the market. I became interested in a growing industry — the biotech sector. Most of the brokers in the firm were still pushing the industrials and the growing silicon market. I did well in those, but my interest lay in the biotech companies. I didn't always understand what they were researching but I could pick those that had potential. I became aware of Dr. Corvino's work in
infertility and research through a professor who wanted my opinion on investing. I approached her with an idea that I felt would make us all rich. I pulled together investors.”

He paused as if waiting for the memories to catch up with his words. “I didn't care about her techniques. Actually, I didn't know enough to ask. What I saw was the desperation factor. Infertility treatment had everything going for it. It helped others, women desperate to have children. Any time the desperation level is high, the potential for high fees is present.”

“So you funded her research?” Judith said.

“In a way. I brought in the money people. My father followed my lead and invested his clients and himself. Then she left. She just took off. My people lost truckloads of money. Some lost everything because I invested too aggressively. My father's reputation was tarnished and mine ruined. The Securities and Exchange people investigated me and although I was cleared I never worked for another firm.” He looked at the table. “Some of the people I invested for didn't take the loss lightly. Two attempts were made on my life. I moved and locked myself away in my home, always looking over my shoulder.”

Corvino shook her head. “I didn't just disappear. I fled for my life.”

That was more than Judith could take. “You fled because you left scores of women infertile.”

The old woman didn't respond at first. “Where did those women come from?”

Judith's jaw tightened.

“Judith?” Luke took her hand.

“Some of them came from me. She hired me to recruit women to donate eggs. Back then a woman could make a few thousand dollars donating her eggs.”

“How does that make them infertile?” Luke asked. “I'm under the impression that egg donations have been done safely for many years.”

“I'll answer that,” Corvino said. “I got greedy. You both know about greed. I could no longer harvest eggs and treat patients as fast as I would like. And the research was eating away most of my day. I wanted everything, so I hired people to help and taught them the procedures.”

“People who were not qualified to do the work,” Judith said. “They mismanaged medications, screenings, and technique. In the end, close to one hundred women were rendered infertile — including me. I'm partly responsible for leading women to barrenness — women who felt they were doing something noble and making needed money. Most were college kids like me.”