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 was 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.

Her insides were in knots as she drove to Ben’s, not so much because of tomorrow’s action but more so because she knew seeing Ben was going to be awkward. She hesitated getting out of her car. Then, she squared her shoulders and walked to the door to receive her usual welcome from the girls.

They mobbed her. Ben stood in the background, grinning from ear to ear. “Good to have you here again, Deidre,” and he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Deidre looked at the girls. They were beaming.

“Do you like Daddy,” Megan asked, her eyes searching Deidre’s face.

“Yes, I like your daddy.” She looked at Ben, and he winked at her. Not too awkward after all, she thought.

“Come look at the tree,” Maren asked as she pulled Deidre to the masterpiece they had created on Saturday. Hanging from strings were four paper dolls, gaudily colored the way an almost five-year-old would.

“This is me.” She pointed to one of the small figures. “And this is Megan.” She pointed at the other paper doll. “And this is you, and this is Daddy.”

Deidre fought back the tears. The paper dolls were arranged in order from the man doll, to the woman doll, to the two children. The girls had taped them together in order: Daddy, Mommy, Megan, and Maren they had written in crooked letters on each doll.

It’s a family, she thought, but didn’t verbalize the words. She wouldn’t allow herself to imagine such a scenario.

After the nightly ritual of baths and hair brushing, the girls were tucked in for the night.

On the way down the stairs Ben asked, “Wine?”

“Sure, but make mine a short one. I’ve got a big day ahead of me tomorrow.”

She sat on the sofa while Ben opened a fresh bottle and poured the Clos DuBois. He handed her the glass and took a seat in the chair across from her.

“Can you tell me what you expect to happen tomorrow?”

“I know it’s going to be cold.” She laughed nervously, almost afraid to be alone with him. “Seriously, we’re beginning a stakeout tomorrow that may last as long as eighteen hours. Zak says there’ll be a place nearby where we can get warm, and we’re going to take shifts being in the cold. He thinks he has it arranged so we look like workers, and our rotation will look as if we’re a team trading off warming ourselves. I guess we are, but it’s going to take an acting job to convince anyone we should be there. If and when it looks as though someone is being smuggled aboard, whoever is on outside duty will be closer to the action and can lead the charge. From there we have to react to the circumstance.”

“Are you worried,” Ben asked, his brow furrowing so his eyebrows almost met.

“Worried? No, I’m scared shitless,” Deidre admitted and took a sip of wine.

Ben got out of his chair and slid next to her on the sofa. He wrapped his arms around her, and she slumped so her head rested on his shoulder. They sat that way for a long time, and Deidre felt safe.

“Don’t take any foolish chances,” Ben said softly. “The girls couldn’t live without you.” He hesitated, “And I’m beginning to think I can’t either.”

Deidre finally moved. “I wish I could sit here all night, but I have to get some sleep.”

She took her empty wine glass to the kitchen and stepped onto the first step of the stairs leading to the bedrooms. Then she turned. Standing that way she was almost his height, and she put her arms around his neck, kissed him on the forehead, and said, “Goodnight, Ben.”

Together they made their way to the top of the stairs.

In her room, alone, Deidre prepared for bed, brushing her teeth and washing her face. She seldom wore makeup, especially when she was working, so it didn’t take much time to clean up. She peeled back the comforter on the bed and crawled under it, clutched an extra pillow to her chest and curled around it. She fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the other pillow, a slight smile on her face.