C Box - Three Weeks to Say Goodbye

The first message was from Melissa.

“Oh Jack, I’m sorry I missed you. I’m so sorry. You won’t believe who I met today-Kellie Moreland! Call me right away!”

The second and third messages were the same.

By the fourth, she was angry.

“Jack, are you even there? Are you checking your messages? I know it’s two in the morning, so don’t even call.” She paused, then: “My God, I need to talk to you right away. I met Kellie Moreland today-Brian arranged it. And guess what? Are you sitting down? She doesn’t know anything about Angelina!”

JET LAG WORKS BOTH ways.

On the flight home, in the cocoon of the 737-400 with the lights dimmed, I couldn’t sleep. I was preoccupied that Melissa-with help from Brian-had “run into” Kellie Moreland at a society fund-raiser at a local library and posed the question about Angelina only to be met with a blank stare.

“Angelina who?” Kellie had asked.

Which meant a lot of things. Either Kellie was stupid- Melissa swore she wasn’t-or Judge Moreland was making a play with his son on their own for reasons that were unknown to us. When Melissa asked Kellie about Garrett, she said Kellie shrank back as if slapped, as if the mere mention of her stepson’s name filled her with horror. As Melissa followed her, trying to engage her, Kellie walked away faster through the crowd until she was running. Melissa ran, too, until Kellie called for security, and my wife was stopped by two men who asked what her problem was.

“What my problem was,” Melissa said, over and over that night on the telephone. “How could I explain what my problem was?”

Brian was back in Denver and fully engaged in our problem . And according to Melissa, he was waiting for the photos he’d referred to earlier.

“Once we have them,” Melissa said, “Brian says the whole thing blows up. According to Brian, we’ll have Judge Moreland and Garrett by the balls.” She growled that last bit, and I’d never heard her do that before. The day at the fund-raiser and the encounter with Kellie had charged her up, given her hope again. If Kellie had no idea her husband and son where trying to gain custody of a baby, then something was seriously wrong with this picture, Melissa said. The judge was hiding something from his wife. And if he was hiding something, he couldn’t be as cocksure about his position and his leverage as he’d led us to believe.

WHEN I LANDED AT DIA, I could barely wait for my luggage. On the other side of the frosted glass would be my wife and daughter and either Cody or Brian or both. The marble floors were gleaming and new. Despite the late hour, there was space, light, no cigarette smoke. So American. So not Berlin. My world.

Brian was with her, looking sharp. But the downcast of his eyes clued me in immediately that something was wrong. Melissa’s face was puffy and red, her mouth downturned. Angelina saw me from her stroller and started clapping, though, oblivious to what was affecting Brian and Melissa.

“Harry,” Melissa said, as I hugged her. She whispered in my ear. “Harry’s dead.”

The news made me go cold. “Harry?”

“Harry!” Angelina said, mimicking me and clapping her pudgy hands. “Harry dog!”

Brian tugged at my arm so we could distance ourselves from Melissa and Angelina in her stroller.

“The cops said someone threw raw hamburger into your backyard laced with rat poison and fishhooks,” Brian said. “We found Harry coughing up blood on the back deck, but by the time we got him to the vet it was too late. The vet said there were a dozen hooks imbedded in his throat.”

“When did this happen?” I asked, numb.

Brian looked at his wristwatch. “Five hours ago, I guess. We left the vet an hour ago to meet you, but it was over long before then. Melissa gave the okay to put him down because it was only a matter of time before he died.”

“So,” I said, “I was somewhere over Michigan when my dog died.”

“I guess so.”

Hot tears filled my eyes. I angrily wiped them away. I’m not a crier and was surprised by my reaction, but the news had hit me like a hammerblow.

“We know who did it,” Brian said. “Remember how Garrett reacted to your dog?”

“Harry never hurt anyone,” I said. “He wasn’t capable of hurting anyone.”

“Garrett got you back,” Brian said. “And I don’t think he’s done with you.”

“Jesus,” I said, “this is so… depraved.” I wiped at my face, not wanting Angelina to see me-or Melissa. I couldn’t believe I was crying, especially because I hadn’t cried after all of the things that had happened to us. But Harry? What had Harry done to anyone?

“I know how tough this is,” Brian said, putting his arm around my shoulder. “But when we get home, Cody is ready to drive to Montana. I know you’re tired, but are you up for that?”

“All of us?” I asked.

Brian said, “All but me. I can’t afford to risk being out of town if my source calls with the photos. He could call anytime,” he said, brandishing his cell phone. “Besides, Jeter Hoyt and I never really got along.”

He whispered when he said the name Jeter Hoyt.

I said, “Are you going to tell me what these photos are? I’d like to know.”

Brian shook his head. “I’m not positive myself-I’m leery of asking too many questions. My contact is jittery as it is. All I know is that he swears these photos will bring down the judge, or at least dissuade him from going forward with this thing with your daughter.”

“And you’re sure he’s right?”

Brian said, “How can one ever be sure of anything? But I’ve told him I won’t pay unless I’ve seen the photos and he’s right. And believe me, brother, we’re talking big bucks. So I don’t want to be in the middle of nowhere when he calls.”

I nodded.

“So, are you ready to go?” Brian asked.

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

“Let’s hit the road.”

“Do you want to pay your respects to Harry so you have some closure?”

That hit me wrong. I guess it was the unreasonable but fashionable sensitivity of the question.

“I hate that word, ‘closure,’ ” I snapped, shrugging off Brian’s arm. “Like it’s just a procedure, then we’re all right. It’s midnight. Do we break in to the vet clinic so I can cry, or what? Will that give me closure? ”

Brian shrugged. “Sorry, Jack. Just trying to help.”

“I know you are,” I said. “I don’t mean to take it out on you.”

I paused for Melissa to catch up. She looked at me for some kind of guidance I didn’t feel capable of providing. “I guess we’re going to Montana,” I said. “Are you up for that?”

She said, “I’ve been packing our stuff all day. Before this thing happened with Harry, I was getting us ready. Everything is in your Jeep. I guess we might as well go.”

I turned her toward me and hugged her. I could tell by the way she went limp on my shoulder that she was exhausted. I buried my face in her hair. I loved the smell of her.

“God, I missed you,” I said.

I squatted down and kissed Angelina. “You, too,” I said.

As we walked out of the airport I thought about Harry. I wanted vengeance. I wanted blood.

WE PULSED NORTH through Wyoming in my Jeep in the dark, passing through Casper at four in the morning. Cody drove and I sat in the passenger seat. Melissa was in the backseat with Angelina in her car seat. There were no city lights, no southbound traffic. I slipped in and out of consciousness. When I slept, I slept hard and awoke groggy. It comforted me that Cody seemed alert, serious, and sober. I was very pleased to be taking action .