Mark Young - Off the grid

Everything else no longer mattered.

She walked across the room, tossing her coat on the couch. “Colder than Alaska in here. Mind if I turn up the heat?” Without waiting for a response, she cranked the dial to high. “There, now we can get comfortable.”

“You should have called. I just got back and I’m about to hit the sack.”

“Want some company?” She smiled, running her fingers through his hair. “We can really warm up this place fast.”

He stiffened, causing her face to tighten. “Not tonight. I’m beat and I’ve got a lot to do before…”

She eyed him curiously. “Before you what, leave again?”

“I’m surprised your father didn’t tell you.”

Anger replaced her curiosity. “My father always keeps me in the dark. He only tells me if he needs something… for him.”

“I’m shipping out next week. Not sure when I’ll be back. Kane seems to have cleared it with my boss and the task force.”

“I’m heading the task force, or have you forgotten? I wasn’t told anything.” Now, her anger seemed directed at him.

He shrugged. “What can I say?”

She reached down and began to unbuckle his belt. “Are you sure I can’t get you to tell me what you’re up to?”

Trapping her hand on his belt, he tried to push her away. “Not tonight.”

Marilynn moved closer. “You sure?” She straddled his lap, pressing against him. Her lips traveled across his cheek, ending at his earlobe.

Gerrit felt himself weaken. This was not love, not even lust for him anymore. It lay somewhere between the two-when nightmares and memories seemed overpowering and two bodies coming together managed to push back the pain for a moment. He used to feel guilty, as if he might be using her for his own personal gratification. But as time passed, he realized they were using each other. He just didn’t understand her purpose. Nor did he care.

She must have felt his body give in, responding to her embrace. “See. I told you-I always win.” She smiled, slowly and seductively climbed off his lap, then led him by the hand to the bedroom.

Whispers awoke him hours later. He raised his head from the pillow and glanced toward the red glare of the digital clock. 3:00 a.m.

He rose and stumbled over a shoe as he padded his way toward the bedroom door. He heard Marilynn’s voice, hushed, coming from the other room. The door stood ajar. He peered through the opening.

She huddled in the kitchen, farthest away from the bedroom. She must have snatched up one of his T-shirts. The green glow from the oven light fell across her body, bathing her in muted light. She covered her mouth, a cell phone pressed against her ear. She glanced toward the bedroom and he drew back. “You might wake him up.”

Marilynn listened for a moment, as the man continued talking. She finally responded. “No. He is not telling me anything. I tried…believe me, I tried.”

Gerrit thought back to earlier, after their passion subsided. Marilynn casually tried to elicit information about where he went in England and why he was leaving again. He chalked it up to her insatiable curiosity. Kane had ordered a lid on all this information, so Gerrit revealed nothing to Marilynn. This seemed to irritate her.

As Gerrit opened the door all the way, Marilynn jerked her head up and seemed to stiffen. “I’ve got to go. I’ll…I’ll call you from the office.”

“Who was that?” Gerrit walked toward her.

“Hey, I’m sorry I woke you. Got this call and heard it vibrate. Thought I could return it in here without disturbing you.”

He waited for further clarification.

“Just work.” She dropped the phone on the counter, crossing her arms. “We have a surveillance going on in another case, and the guys were just checking in.”

Gerrit watched her face, trying to figure out why she was lying.

She walked past him into the bedroom and began gathering her clothes. “I need to get back to the office. Need to return this call on a more secure line.” She disappeared into the bathroom. “Be out in a jiffy. Why don’t you go back to bed?”

He waited until he heard the shower turn on and then reached for her phone. Flicking on the menu, he thumbed to the last call received, hit the Select button, and a menu emerged. The words Private Caller flashed on the readout. He tapped to the last incoming call and saw the number of the caller Marilynn spoke to. He glanced at the number, recognizing the numerals immediately.

Richard Kane.

Why was Kane calling her in the middle of the night-here?

Footsteps sounded across the bedroom. Marilynn appeared at the doorway, toweling herself off. “I forget my…”-she glanced at what he was holding-”my phone.”

He held it up. “Just getting it for you. Saw it here on the counter.”

The darkness prevented him from seeing her expression, but her voice seemed tight. “Just drop it in my purse. I’m almost ready.”

He complied, turning on a table lamp near the couch. Her purse had been left on the floor. He stooped down and slipped the phone inside. A few minutes later she emerged, fully clothed. He handed her the purse. “The cell’s inside. Wouldn’t want you to miss any more calls.”

Her eyes, questioning, shifted from the purse to his face. She brushed his cheek with her lips. “Call me later. Maybe we can do dinner?”

He nodded, watching her leave. He heard her car start up, tires slipping on gravel. Quietness settled around him.

He slipped on some jeans and a T-shirt before walking to the glass door. He slid it open and stepped out onto a small porch that sat only inches above the lake. He looked over the water toward downtown Seattle. Cold night air made him shiver. He watched as the running lights from a small craft cut through the night, the city’s silhouette beyond.

The dark water below him ebbed and flowed as small waves slightly raised and lowered the houseboat. Water carried a certain amount of force, of power, that moved like an unseen hand beneath him. Like his life, this current pushed and pulled without permission. Life seemed to forge ahead, inextricably dragging him along in its wake.

A warning blast from a horn carried across the water, bringing him back to the present. This feeling of emptiness-starting when his CO broke the news about his folks years ago-hounded him whether he was awake or asleep. There would be no peace until he learned what happened. Until then, he would just exist, even in moments when he and Marilynn lay on the bed in a passionate embrace. That phone call she fielded reminded him once again about how much his world had changed.

And who he could trust.

Vienna, Austria

The trip to meet Kane and the reason for using an alias still nagged at him. Clearly, Kane or Senator Summers didn’t want Gerrit’s earlier travel to the United Kingdom to be flagged for some reason. Why?

Passport in hand, Gerrit approached the front counter of the Radisson Blu Palais Hotel. At least he was traveling under his right name on this trip. No hocus-pocus.

“Dr. O’Rourke.” A young woman extended her hand as he approached the counter, her heavy Germanic accent seemed to add more allure to this historic site. “May I assist in your check-in? I am working with Dr. Clarke to make sure his entourage is taken care of.”

“ Vielen Dank, Fraulein…?”

“Helene.” She bobbed her head self-consciously. “ Sie sind herzlich eingeladen. You are welcome, sir.”

Gerrit finished checking in as Helene stood by. When he was through, he turned to her. “I understand this hotel was originally built as two palaces in 1872.”

Helene nodded. “Yes, sir. And I am pleased to point out that we are overlooking Vienna’s famous Stadtpark. You will be able to see a number of monuments here, including one devoted to Johann Strauss.” She pointed proudly.