A River Through Two Harbors Read online

  “Yes, Judy released it over a week ago, and the parents had her shipped back home, at considerable expense I might add. The laws are tougher when it comes to transporting a body across the border than if a reprobate like that Leder crosses with a passport. A testimony to our legislative leaders, if you ask me.”

  The women chit-chatted for several minutes about nothing in particular, just two friends checking in with each other. Eventually, Melissa announced she had a meeting to attend, and Deidre apologized for monopolizing her time. Melissa told her to call any time. The break from work might do both of them some good.

  Deidre finished her work, wrote a note to Jill, and left it on her desk. See you in the morning, it said.

  On her way out of the Law Enforcement Center, she crossed the courthouse parking lot. As she neared her vehicle, she almost bumped into Gerald Colter, the father of the young man who had given her the flash drive.

  “Good afternoon, counselor,” she said with a nod.

  “Deidre,” and the two went their separate ways.

  That evening was as pleasant a time as Deidre had experienced since she moved back with Inga. They had a leisurely meal, cleaned the kitchen together, and sat in the living room, sipping tea.

  “I don’t want to snoop,” Inga began. “But do you have a man in your life?”

  Deidre laughed at her bluntness. “That’s the last thing I need. For the first time since John’s death, I feel like I’m in charge of my life. My decisions are my own, and I’m not reacting to loneliness or to a need to be with someone. No, I’m perfectly happy with my life the way it is.”

  Inga swirled her cup and stared into it as if she were a Gypsy tea-leaf reader. She looked up, and Deidre could see a sense of longing in the older woman’s eyes.

  “Don’t close the door on another romance, my dear. I did that, thinking I would dishonor Eric’s memory by being with another man. In my grief, I isolated myself, became an island. Now, in my later years, all I have left is to snoop on my neighbors, tend to my flowers, and hope that someone like you needs me. Don’t close the door on happiness. You’re too young to let it pass you by.”

  Deidre said nothing. Inside, she knew Inga was speaking through the voice of experience and with wisdom, and she knew she wanted to have back the happiness she and John had shared. But she knew she was afraid to allow herself that kind of joy again. What she didn’t have, couldn’t be taken from her.

  Chapter 21

  Deidre felt at peace like she hadn’t in a long time. The idea that she had done her job, had brought evidence to the FBI who were far more capable of raising the manpower to tackle the complex problem, had turned over the case to them, all of that lifted a huge burden from her shoulders. She no longer felt isolated and alone. For the first time in ages, she thought she could get back to her old way of life.

  At ten o’clock she met Zak Burton in his office. Together they walked to the conference room down the hall. She was surprised that only a half-dozen men and women were waiting for them, expecting a much larger group.

  “Folks, this is Deidre Johnson, the person who brought in the evidence we’ve been searching for.”

  To her surprise, they stood and gave her a brisk round of applause. One of the women offered her a cup of coffee and invited her to take a seat. Deidre felt a little like a reluctant celebrity.

  Zak took his place to the side of a projection screen in the front of the room. He began a power point presentation.

  “This is a photo of the Ishat the last time it was in port the summer before last. Notice that there are two gangways, one fore and one aft. Our intent is to cover both of them when our operation begins.

  “I checked with Port Authority. Its ETA is December 10 at approximately 6:00 a.m. Of course that’s highly variable at this time. We’ll update the information when the ship clears the Soo locks and as it makes its way down the lake.”

  Deidre had not thought much about the snippet of conversation she had overheard when she took a wrong turn after visiting with Zak. Even so, she felt a relaxation of her muscles when she learned he had been speaking to Port Authority.

  “It’ll be docking at grain elevator nine on the Duluth side of the harbor to take on a load of wheat bound for the Balkans. It’s expected to be in port only a day and a half, departing at 6:00 p.m. on the 11th. They’ll be pushing to get out of port as quickly as they can, because the weather is so unpredictable this time of year. We’re going to stake out the pier from the time its mooring lines are cast ashore until they are hauled in. Here’s the plan.”

  Zak put the next frame up on the screen, a diagram showing the probable location of the ship, the location of warehouses, the grain silos, and the location of each member of the team.

  “There’ll be two teams, four people positioned in sight of the aft gangway, and the others near the fore gangway. Each team will have a leader, and we’ll be linked by a secure line of communication. That way, no one can distract us while they enter the opposite end of the ship.”

  Deidre looked around the room. Along with Zak, she counted seven people, yet on the screen the diagram showed eight. She thought someone must be missing.

  She was jolted from her thoughts when Zak said, “Deidre, I assumed you would want to be with us. I’ve included you among the four watching this location.” He pointed at the fore of the ship. “I hope I didn’t take unwarranted liberty in assuming this.”

  Her peace was shattered. Suddenly she was thrust into the middle of what she thought she would be avoiding. So she wouldn’t stutter or seem too surprised, Deidre nodded.

  “Good. I couldn’t imagine you’d have wanted to miss the excitement. We’ll get together on Monday the ninth, to prepare.”

  The meeting broke up, each agent returning to whatever work they were assigned. On the way out, Zak said to Deidre, “Be sure to bring your body armor. We don’t know what we’ll be up against.”

  Thanks a lot, Deidre thought, but she smiled.

  *****

  The way to Ben’s house was becoming second nature, and she gave the turns no thought. In minutes from leaving the meeting at the Federal Building, she was pulling into his driveway.

  A Christmas tree was propped against the garage, an eight-foot balsam fir. Deidre bent over and inhaled its aromatic vapors. She could imagine the smell it would produce in his house.

  The realization hit her that she had never experienced Christ­mas with children, or as a child for that matter. All she remembered was her drunken stepfather ruining everything. She remembered the Christmas Eve he came home drunk and threw the tree out the door, decorations and all. After that, her mother never tried to celebrate the season.

  She and John had talked about what it would have been like to have their own children, and she wondered then what kind of mother she would make. She hoped she could give Ben’s daughters the kind of Christmas they deserved.

  As she walked past the picture window facing the street, she peeked inside the house. Megan and Maren were playing with their dolls, and when Deidre tapped on the window, they sprang to their feet. By the time she made it to the door, they were waiting for her, their arms outstretched to receive a hug. They showered Deidre with kisses on her cheeks.

  “Daddy will be home from work soon. Can we play dollies until he gets here?”

  “We sure can. First let me get my coat off and get comfortable, then we’ll play.”

  The sitter had stood by while the girls fawned over Deidre. “They certainly love you. Whatever I do, they tell how you do it differently.” She smiled a warm smile, and Deidre knew she wasn’t bothered by being one-upped. “I’d better be going. My husband will be needing supper when he gets home. He’s retiring this spring, and we’ve made a deal. He promised to do the cooking and give me a break from meal preparation when that time comes.”

  As she was
leaving, Ben came up the walk, supper in hand and ready to put in the oven. Tonight they were having gourmet ready-to-bake sausage pizza. Deidre thought this was about as good as it got. She sat down on the floor and held a doll while Ben set the table and poured milk for the girls.

  After supper she helped clean up, put the dishes in the washer, and wiped off the countertop. Then, after playing another game of Old Maid, she helped tuck Megan and Maren into bed. As Deidre pulled the quilt up around her shoulders, Maren reached up and wrapped her arms around Deidre’s neck. “I love you,” she said and kissed her cheek. Tears formed in Deidre’s eyes as she said goodnight.

  As she and Ben enjoyed some quiet time, they shared what was left of a bottle of wine.

  “I don’t think the girls remember Jenny,” he said, sadness in his voice. “Once in a while they talk about their mother, but their conversations are almost always about heaven where their mommy is.”

  He held his glass up, almost like a toast. “You have no idea how we appreciate you being a part of our lives. They have more awareness of you than they have of Jenny. She was special, but they were so little when she died.”

  Ben swirled the wine in his goblet and stared at it as it stopped rotating. “I worry about them sometimes. We don’t seem to be making any progress in cutting out the cancers in our society, and I wonder what lies ahead for them. By the way, how was your meeting with Zak? He told me you were in the building today.”

  Deidre briefly outlined the plans Zak had in the works. “Did he tell you he wants me to be a part of the team when they stake out the ship?”

  Ben’s eyes widened. “No, he didn’t say a word about that. That’s highly unusual, you know. Zak’s a good man, and he tackles every case like it is a personal vendetta. He must see something that makes him believe you’ll be an asset. Otherwise he’d never ask you to come along. But, Deidre, be careful. The twins can’t absorb another loss in their lives. Promise?”

  “Promise,” she said.

  By Saturday evening, the excitement had built to the point the two girls could hardly be still. Supper had been an early affair. During the mid-afternoon, Ben brought the tree in from outside and placed it in its stand.

  It stood in its allotted corner, emitting the smells of Christmas as it thawed in preparation to being decorated. At five-thirty, Ben announced it was time, and the girls cheered. He put a CD into its player and the voices of Christmas carolers filled the background.

  Everyone stood back, offering advice, as Ben strung the lights on the tree, burying some deep near its core and stringing others near the tips of the branches. He showed the girls how to pull the corners of their eyes to form an exaggerated squint.

  “It makes the lights all streaky,” Megan exclaimed, and she and sister kept pulling at their lids until Ben said, “Enough. Your eyes will stay that way.”

  Deidre boxed him on the shoulder. “Don’t scare them like that.” Then she tried to give a better reason. “If you squint like that, you can’t see as well, and you might stumble over a box.”

  Somehow, she thought, Ben’s threat had a greater effect.

  After an hour of working together, Ben stood on a stepstool and placed an angel at the top of the tree. They stood back to admire the adornments. Not intending to do so, Ben and Deidre said at the same time, “I think this is the best tree ever.”

  They looked at each other and laughed out loud.

  “Sit over here and close your eyes,” Megan instructed the two adults. Deidre heard them rummaging in some wrapping paper and then heard the sound of the stepstool being dragged across the floor.

  Amid whispers and giggles she heard them struggling to accom­plish some sort of task.

  “Don’t open your eyes, but stand up,” Maren directed. Each child took one of the adult’s hands. “We’re going to spin you around, but don’t open your eyes.”

  The girls led the way, and Deidre felt small hands positioning her.

  “You can open your eyes now.” Deidre was surprised to find herself no more than a foot from Ben, facing him. Ben looked puzzled as well. “Look up!”

  They did.

  “That’s mistletoe! Grandma gave it to us last year. She said whoever stands under it has to be kissed.”

  Ben and Deidre looked at each other.

  “Well?” the girls asked in unison. Ben laughed nervously, and Deidre blushed her usual shade of red.

  He placed his arms around her, careful not to be too aggressive, and she stood on her tiptoes. For an instant they kissed, and then Ben backed away.

  Megan and Maren stood back, their hands covering their mouths and giggling like Deidre had never heard them giggle.

  “Was that what you meant?” he asked. They were speechless, still covering their mouths as though they held an important secret. Ben grabbed them and nibbled at the nape of their necks. “I love you so much, I could eat you up!” They clung to his shoulders as he carried them to bed.

  It had become a pattern for Deidre and Ben to have a glass of wine and visit after the girls were in bed. They talked about many things that evening, their fears and worries, what Deidre planned to do after her job was done, what her plans were for Christmas. Ben told her he really would like her to spend it with him and the twins, although he had to admit his parents were celebrating with him.

  They had a good laugh about how his mother had reacted to Deidre being invited to Thanksgiving. About eleven o’clock, they decided they better retire for the night, and Ben went to the kitchen. Deidre heard him rinsing out the glasses.

  She stood in the doorway, and when he turned to come back into the living room, he almost bumped into her.

  Deidre put her arms around his neck, stood on her toes as she had done before, and kissed him on his lips. She felt his arms encircle her and pull her toward him, and they held that pose for many seconds. Finally, Deidre pushed away.

  “I’m sorry, Ben. Forgive me.” She rushed up the stairs and closed the door to her room, fell on the bed and wept, being thankful she didn’t have to explain why she was crying. She had no answer herself.

  Deidre was up early the next morning, and was eating a piece of toast and drinking a cup of coffee when Ben came down the stairs.

  “I thought I’d better get an early start,” Deidre explained. “Pete needs to go for a good walk, and I have to get things together for Tuesday.” She had a difficult time looking at Ben’s face for fear of what she’d see.

  Before he could respond, Deidre was at the door, pulling on her jacket. Ben took her hand.

  “First of all, there’s no need to be sorry. Second, thank you. And third, I know you’re meeting at the Fed on Monday and then have to be back early Tuesday morning. I’d like you to stay here Monday night, if you will. Bring Pete. The girls will have fun playing with him, and we can take him for a walk in the evening. Will you?”

  Deidre reached up again and kissed his cheek. “Yes.” And she ran to her car.

  Chapter 22

  The sky on Monday morning looked ominous, and Deidre felt chilled as she took the scenic highway to Duluth. She had plenty of time. Zak had called the meeting for two that afternoon, and until then, she had little to do. She pulled into one of the many spots overlooking Lake Superior, and sat in her SUV, allowing its engine to idle. The thermometer on the dash registered an outdoor tempera­ture of ten degrees, not dangerously cold but, nevertheless, bitter, considering the wind-chill factor.

  She watched the streamers of steam rise, evidence of warmer water interfacing with colder air. In the distance, steel-blue clouds lay in windrows over the horizon, giving the lake an icy-gray color rather than blue. Normally, this was a time of year Deidre liked above all others.

  For some reason the way the shades of gray held contrast to the water intrigued her, made her feel comfortable. She wondered if that was because it w
as a part of nature’s rhythms, a predictable cycle providing her an anchor in a continually shifting world. She decided the lake was nurturing.

  Her thoughts turned to the weekend. Did I make a fool of myself? she wondered. What came over me? I’ve never behaved like that.

  Finally, Deidre convinced herself that her kiss given to Ben was more a reaction to being with his girls than anything else. They made her feel as though she were family, and she wanted them to be happy.

  Perhaps that’s why she put her arms around Ben’s neck. It wasn’t about him. It was about them. After twenty minutes of rationalizing, she looked at her watch, one-thirty. Only a half-hour before the meeting. She put the shift lever in reverse and backed out of the space.

  Almost everyone was present when she walked into the meeting room. Zak was in front, pacing, and he held the control for his power point presentation in his hand as if it were a weapon. Seeing that almost everyone else had a cup in hand, she poured herself coffee and took a seat. The same woman who sat next to her at the last meeting plunked down beside her.

  “Well, here we go,” was all she said.

  Zak cleared his throat and everyone became attentive.

  “You may have noticed there are two ships anchored outside the harbor, waiting to dock. One of them is the Ishat. It arrived last night at midnight and will pass under the lift bridge at five Tuesday morning. We estimate she’ll be docked at the Orton Grain elevator by six, and loading will begin immediately. You know we’re expecting two females to be smuggled aboard sometime during its stay. We haven’t a clue when. But you know as well as I do, most clandestine operations take place when it’s dark. Prime times would be from 6:00 p.m., when it ties up, to 7:30 a.m., and from 4:30 p.m. to 7:30 a.m. the next day. The ship is scheduled to leave at 6:00 p.m. on the eleventh. That means another window will open from 4:30 p.m. Wednesday, until they pull away from the pier. If I had to put my money down, I’d bet on the last window. There’s always a hubbub at the last minute, and my gut feeling is that would be the opportune time to get someone aboard. Unfortunately, that’s only a guess. Wear warm clothing. Layer it. Thermal underwear, sweaters, your parka. Be sure to wear pacs on your feet, and well insulated mittens for your hands. Stocking caps will be mandatory. All of this is agency issue. Deidre, we’ll see that you’re equipped. Do not wear parkas with the FBI logo, but underneath have your vest with the initials front and back. At the last minute throw the parka off and identify yourself as FBI. Deidre, I assume your vest is labeled BCA.” She nodded.