Читать книгу Truth and Justice - Fern Michaels - Страница 9

Chapter 2

Bella stood rooted to the concrete walkway as she stared at the building in front of her. It was a beautiful day in the District, crisp and unseasonably cool for this time of year. Birds perched overhead on an electrical wire chirped to one another, probably commenting on the beautiful weather. She was aware of people jostling her, muttering obscenities and other unflattering terms as they surged around her. They wanted her to move, that much was clear. She wanted to move, too, but she felt glued to the walkway. She knew she should apologize to the steady stream of people behind her, but she couldn’t get her tongue to work any better than she could get her feet to move. She was on her lunch hour, as were the people around her, so it stood to reason they were all in a hurry, and still she couldn’t make her feet move. What is wrong with me?

The reality was, Bella knew what was wrong with her, so there was no use in pretending. She was standing in front of the building that housed Mitchell Jones’s office to finalize the divorce she had started almost a month ago. Mitchell had called her yesterday and told her to stop stalling or he was going to drop her as a client, and she would have to find another attorney to work with her in obtaining a divorce.

Mitchell had been more than nice to her. He said it was okay to change her mind about wanting a divorce. People did it all the time, he’d said. He’d gone on to say he had too many cases that needed his attention and he couldn’t keep babysitting her, and he said that if she canceled one more appointment, he would be forced to cease to represent her.

With those threats hanging over her, not to mention the money she’d already paid out to him, she was here, now, at this red brick building with ivy crawling up the walls and fresh paint on the window frames. She could even smell the paint and see dabs of it on the shiny ivy leaves. The door she had to walk through was a beautiful, dark, rich mahogany surrounded by a lot of shiny brass on the ornate door handle, the brass plate, and, of course, the lanterns on each side of the magnificent door. She squinted harder and realized it wasn’t brass at all but copper, polished to a high sheen, so glossy she could see her eyelashes.

“Move it, lady, or I’ll lift you up and move you myself. I have business inside, and time is money. What’s it gonna be?” a deep rough voice behind her demanded.

“Yeah, move already, will you?” a young woman who was barefoot and wearing ragged cutoff jeans called out. “I’m already ten minutes late. C’mon already!”

Bella finally moved, or maybe she was pushed, she didn’t really know, and at that moment didn’t care as she went with the flow. She was finally inside, with people walking all around her. All she needed to do was turn right and walk down the long hallway to suite 111. Suite 111 belonged to Mitchell Jones, and she was here to sign her divorce papers. Period. End of story. She wondered how many pages it took to say she was filing for a divorce from Major Andrew Nolan because he refused to e-mail or Skype her. And then she wondered if she would cry when she signed her name to the legal document. Even if she did cry, the world wouldn’t end if she cried one more time, she told herself. Once she signed her name, she could move on and forget Major Andy Nolan and his Ram 2500 truck. She would be Bella Ames again, the name she had been born with.

Finally standing at Mitchell Jones’s door, all Bella had to do was turn the knob and walk into the small waiting room. It was tastefully decorated with comfortable furniture, and healthy, glossy ficus trees stood in the corners to fill up the dim corners where there were no lamps. Luscious green plants on the little tables that were scattered among the chairs, along with a varied assortment of magazines for men and women, and, of course, the daily paper pretty much took care of the furnishings. Despite all the stuff, the room did not appear to be crowded. Someone, probably Cheryl, the receptionist, had a green thumb, she thought. All in all, a pleasant enough place to relieve any anxiety one might feel while waiting for the help the lawyer would hopefully provide. Today, though, there was no delay for Bella. No more stalling. The waiting room was empty, and Cheryl told her she should go right on back to Mr. Jones’s office since he was waiting for her. Seeing the bright unshed tears in Bella’s eyes, Cheryl offered up a weak smile. Divorces, as she knew from experience, were painful.

Fifteen minutes later, Bella was walking to her car, the checked tears finally rolling down her cheeks. She looked at her watch. She had enough time to grab a sandwich and a drink of some kind before reporting back to work. Her boss was a great boss and wouldn’t say boo if she was an hour late, but she tried never to abuse his generosity. With that thought in mind, Bella steered her car into the parking lot of the Burger Palace, also known as Will’s Shack, which made burgers to order for its customers. Will, the owner, was working the drive-through today. Short of help again, she surmised. She tucked away the thought in case she had to get a part-time job to pay off Mitchell Jones. Unlike Andy, who didn’t care how many bills he racked up, she hated owing money. When Will spotted her, he grinned and waved.

“The same, or are you feeling dangerous today?” he joked. The same meant a burger with crisp bacon, lots and lots of crisp bacon she paid extra for, a slice of tomato, and a slice of purple onion with a sour pickle on top and Virginia Gray’s potatoes on the side. Virginia was Will’s father’s sister. Dangerous meant a cup of coffee, heavy on the sugar and cream, along with a raisin-filled cookie for dessert.

“The same, Will.”

“You okay, Bella? You look sad.” The two were on a first-name basis because Bella had been Will’s very first customer when he had opened his little food haven a couple of years ago.

“Headache,” she muttered. The moment the words were out of her mouth, Bella realized it was true, she did have a headache. She realized something else, too—she wasn’t hungry. Why she had pulled into Will’s Shack was something she’d have to figure out later. She paid for her food, placed the bag on the passenger seat, and drove home to her new mini apartment. The minute she parked the car in her allotted space, she called her boss. She fibbed and said she had a migraine and was going home. Nice man that he was, her boss told her to take two Advil and a nap, and, if she didn’t feel any better tomorrow, to stay home, and not to worry, he’d pay her for her time off.

Inside the small apartment, Bella kicked off her shoes and tossed her purse and messenger bag on the recliner. She padded out to the minuscule kitchenette and opened the food bag. The smell of the onion and the hamburger made her gag. She quickly tossed it all into the sink and let the garbage disposal do its magic.

Coffee. That’s all she needed. Maybe a cookie to dunk in the coffee. Then again, maybe not. She turned on the little twelve-inch TV that sat on the counter next to the toaster. She turned it to the channel she used to watch years ago, when she was hooked on soap operas. She watched it for ten minutes and felt as if, even though she hadn’t watched the soap for over two years, she was caught up. And it had taken only ten minutes.

The sound of a knock on the door almost caused Bella to jump out of her skin. She did not know anyone who lived in the neighborhood. Why would someone be knocking on her door in the middle of the afternoon? Some scammer maybe. Someone who robbed apartments in broad daylight. A bill collector. Someone who wanted payment for Andy’s Ram 2500? She’d called the finance company and told them where the car was and that the key was under the back wheel cap. She’d told the woman she spoke to that her name was Delilah Brucemeister just so they wouldn’t know where she was currently located. Answer the door? Don’t answer the door?

Why, she asked herself, am I hiding or pretending to hide? I didn’t do anything wrong. All I did was file for divorce, something thousands of people do every day. So who was knocking on her door? She hadn’t even put her name on the mail slot yet, so who would even know that she lived here?

The knock sounded again. Louder this time. More serious-sounding. Well, of course they would continue to knock because they could hear her TV. She knew in her gut that whoever it was knocking on her door was going to keep knocking until she opened it, which just went to prove it had to be a bill collector. The previous tenant must have owed someone money for something.

Bella started toward the tiny foyer, not believing that hypothesis for a minute. Well, the only way to discover if she was right or wrong was to open the damn door.

Which she did.

“Oh my God! No! No! Go away! Don’t ever come back here! Nonononono!” Bella shrieked at the top of her lungs as she reached for the doorframe to hold her upright. Her hands slipped. She felt herself falling, then strong arms, two sets of strong arms, were carrying her into her tiny as-yet-unpacked new apartment and setting her down in a chair.

Bella stared at the two military officers kneeling at her feet. Both had their hands on her arms to steady her. How young they were, she thought. Captains in rank, both of them. Spit and polish all the way. She could smell ivory soap and something vaguely menthol. She wished someone would say something. Maybe they were waiting for her to say something. Like what, she wondered crazily. Maybe something like, hey, I know why you’re here, my husband was killed in the line of duty. And then I say, well, guess what. I just signed divorce papers today, so why should I care what you have to say.

She was dreaming and hoped to wake up any minute. This is not happening. It’s just too surreal, Bella told herself, like something out of a really bad grade B movie.

Things like this happened to other people or in movies. Not to people like her. She wondered if they had arrived in a brown car. In the movies, the chaplains always arrived in a brown car. Two chaplains. Always two. She wondered why that was.

The taller of the two officers, the one on the left, said, “Ma’am, I’m Captain Jeffrey Josell, and this is Captain Scott Kimball. Is there anyone you want us to call? We can take you to a family member or a friend if you like. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“I’ve been alone since the day I got married,” Bella screeched at the top of her lungs. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Good Lord, did she just say that? Maybe she should tell them about the divorce papers she had just signed. Would they care? Who would they tell? No, no, she had it all wrong, this wasn’t a bad dream, this was a frigging nightmare. “You can leave now, Officers. I’ll be fine.” Bella knew she had said the words out loud, but she didn’t recognize her own voice.

“Ma’am, we have orders. We have to obey them. We have people who will come and stay with you. You can’t be alone right now. Do you understand?”

“I do understand. I want you to leave. Please, it’s important for me to be alone right now. I’m not going to do anything silly or stupid, but I am going to show you something to prove my point.” Bella wobbled her way over to the recliner, opened her purse, and pulled out the blue folder Mitchell Jones had given her. She wondered why divorce sleeves containing the actual divorce papers were always blue. The final divorce paper was always blue, too.

“See this?” Bella said, waving the blue folder in the air. “I filed for divorce today. That’s why I’m home in the middle of the day. I just came from the lawyer’s office. So you can see, I’m sure, why I need to be alone right now, can’t you?” she announced in a voice that sounded like a dozen firecrackers going off all at once.

The two young officers looked at each other. Captain Josell shook his head; Captain Kimball nodded. Captain Josell pulled out his cell phone, stepped away from Bella, and placed a call to a female officer back at headquarters to come join them. “This is a tough one,” he whispered into the phone.

Captain Kimball transferred the manila envelope he’d been entrusted with, the one he was supposed to hand to the grieving widow, from one hand to the other. No one said what he was supposed to do if she refused to accept it. Somehow, he just knew that if he did hand it to her, and she did take it, it would slip right through her fingers, and he didn’t want that to happen. Thus, he wasn’t sure what he should do with it. Hand it to her? Would she even accept it? Place it on one of the tables? He’d never been in this exact position before. He couldn’t even remember if there was a rule in the book for a situation like this. For sure, nothing like it had ever come up in his training classes. He looked over at his partner and raised his eyebrows. What now? Captain Josell just stared at him blankly. It was obvious that he didn’t know what to do, either.

Bella blinked away her tears and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her shirt. She looked around, and said, “You look uncomfortable. If you aren’t going to leave, you might as well sit down. Are you supposed to talk to me? Are you going to tell me how my husband died? Or is a shrink on the way to do that for you?

“I don’t know what to do here. I’ve heard stories, seen movies, but I never thought I would turn out to be a leading character in one of those stories,” Bella said, her voice cracking with each word that came out of her mouth. “I guess I am now one of your statistics. Is there some special protocol we need to follow?” She knew that she was babbling, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

“Actually, Mrs. Nolan, there is a protocol of sorts. We usually follow the bereaved’s lead and do what they want, and go from there. Personally, ma’am, I think you should talk to the psychiatrist when she gets here. I think you’ll feel more at ease with a female,” Captain Kimball said.

Bella didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t know what to think. What did gender have to do with anything? Dead was dead. A man talking about it or a woman talking about it couldn’t bring Andy back to life. Maybe what she should do was call Mitchell Jones and ask him what to do. Lawyers usually had the answer to everything, or at least they would have you believe they did, and that’s how they justified billing you out the kazoo. Maybe Mitchell could undo the paperwork and recall the whole sorry mess, and she could go on with her life and pretend she didn’t file for divorce the very same day she was notified of her husband’s death.

She nixed that idea immediately because she realized that, papers or no papers, it was impossible to divorce someone who was already dead when the divorce papers were filed. Bella Ames Nolan was, for all eternity, the widow of Major Andrew Nolan, not the ex-wife of a man who had died serving his country.

How could this be happening? How? You file for divorce the same day you find out your husband is dead. All within the space of an hour. And all it took was a single hour. An hour, her mind screamed silently. Good God, how am I supposed to live with this? This is wrong. I need to sit down somewhere in a dark corner and howl my head off, Bella thought, as she knuckled her eyes to keep more tears from spilling down her cheeks. She needed to say something. Ask questions? Why? You couldn’t fix dead just like you couldn’t fix stupid.

Bella knew she had to do something, like right now, or these men were going to be in her apartment like mother hens forever.

“Did you . . . has anyone notified Andy’s sister? I know almost nothing about her, just that Andy told me he had a sister.” Something niggled at her concerning the sister, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “I think they were estranged but that they had patched up their . . . whatever it was that caused a problem, and I didn’t want to . . . you know, invade his . . . personal life, I guess, is how I should put it. We were so into ourselves, there was no room for anyone or anything else those last few days. We only had two days to . . . to spend loving each other.

“I’m not even sure I know her name. Susan, Samantha, maybe Sara. I’m just not sure. Andy never talked about her to me. I think the estrangement had something to do with his sister’s spending his inheritance plus her own when their parents died, but that might be all wrong. I’m sorry, I just don’t know very much about her.”

Whatever it was, it was right there on the tip of her tongue, but it wasn’t coming. Damn it, what is it? “Then, like I said, they patched up their differences. She was all he had in the way of family as far as I know. I guess that doesn’t help much, does it?”

“You had part of it right. Major Nolan’s sister’s name is Sara Nolan Conover. She indicated to us that she and Mr. Conover are divorced. She now goes by the name Sara Nolan. From what we can tell, she moves around quite a bit. She is listed as the beneficiary on Major Nolan’s insurance and also as next of kin. Her name is . . . was on Major Nolan’s bank account. For some reason, he never removed her name from the account. His pay went into that account. The account was drained and closed by Ms. Nolan once everything was turned over to her as next of kin. Major Nolan was a little lax on updating his personal information. There was nothing in his personnel file about his . . . your marriage,” Captain Josell said.

“It was only a month ago that we found out that Major Nolan was married. I’m sorry, ma’am. When we found out about you, we went back and took another look at the sister but were unable to locate her. She had cleared the bank account, moved, and is no longer on our radar. I’m sorry, Mrs. Nolan.”

Bella reacted to the news like she’d been slapped in the face. And then kicked in the gut for good measure. Andy hadn’t thought it important enough to change his insurance or to list her as next of kin, to put her name on his bank account, to provide for her. How could he not tell the military he had gotten married? How? That was the first thing she’d done at work when they returned from their two-day honeymoon. She’d told everyone, even the janitor, as she flashed her plain gold wedding band. She’d added Andy’s name to her savings and checking accounts. She’d listed him as her next of kin and made him the sole beneficiary on her insurance. She couldn’t wait to go to HR and do everything she needed to do.

And now these military people were telling her that he had not bothered to do any of the things expected of a military man who had just gotten married. And even as he had failed to provide for her, he had thought early on that it was important to nag her until she agreed to harvest her eggs and store them in a fertility clinic in case he didn’t make it back. Even back then, when she’d done what he asked, she’d thought there was something ominous about the whole thing. But she had not been able to pinpoint any one thing that made her think such a thing. She chalked it up to something she did not want to think about, much less do, but she did it anyway because her husband had asked her to do it. How had all that gotten by her? Was she that much of an idiot? The obvious answer was yes—but no, not really, she was just head over heels in love with her handsome husband, Major Andrew Nolan, who looked like a movie star in his dress uniform.

It always came down to money in the end. Or the lack thereof.

Always.

The small group in the tiny living room looked at one another. Both officers jumped to their feet and ran to the front door when they heard the doorbell ring.

Bella swiped at the tears on her cheeks as she watched the hushed conference taking place at the doorway with two women in military dress. The shrink and another woman. Another shrink? She waited as both officers returned to where she was sitting, offered up their condolences again, then shook her hand. When the door closed behind them, it sounded like thunder to Bella’s ears. She looked up at the two women, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Mrs. Nolan, I’m Colonel Laura Atkins. I am also a psychiatrist. I should have come here with Captain Josell and Captain Kimball, but I was on another call and running late. I’m sorry. I got here as soon as I could. This young woman standing next to me is Lieutenant Carol Gibson. She is . . . was your husband’s nurse.”

Bella stared at the two women and simply nodded. She just didn’t have it in her right now to say even one word. She wished they would leave so she could go to bed and sleep around the clock, then wake up and find out this was all just a bad dream. That wasn’t going to happen, and she knew it. She motioned for the two women to sit down, which they promptly did.

“Do I call you Doctor or Colonel?” Bella asked. There . . . she finally asked a question that made at least a little bit of sense. Like she really cared how she should address the woman sitting across from her. This is all about me right now, and I simply do not give a good rat’s ass what you want or expect. All I want is for you all to go and leave me alone. Damn it, just go already, she pleaded silently.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with. I imagine you have some questions.”

Bella felt herself nod. No, she really didn’t, but knew she had to ask something. As it was, it was bad enough, they thought she was some weirdo. She wished she had a rule book and that she had read it. “Where . . . how?” she asked in barely a whisper.

“Major Nolan was the only survivor of a roadside bomb. His whole team was killed. This happened eleven months ago. Major Nolan was paralyzed from the neck down on his right side. He had partial use of his left arm and leg at first; then he couldn’t use either his arm or his leg. He deteriorated very quickly. In the beginning, he could talk coherently. He knew how badly he was wounded. He could more or less feed himself finger food with his one good arm; then his voice gave out, he couldn’t swallow, and he had to be fed through a tube. He was flown to Walter Reed Army Medical Center here in the area within days of being injured,” Colonel Atkins said, then let loose with a heavy sigh as she heard Bella shriek.

Bella jumped to her feet like she was spring loaded. “Are you telling me my husband has been at Walter Reed, practically within walking distance from me, and no one in the goddamn army thought I had a right to know! Is that what you are sitting there telling me? Do you have any idea, any idea at all what I went through not hearing from my husband in all that time? Well, do you?”

No one responded verbally; however, they all bobbed their heads up and down.

“Damn it, say something,” she shrieked again, the sound vibrating off the walls.

“It . . . it’s complicated, Mrs. Nolan. We . . . the army . . . didn’t know about you. As we said earlier, Major Nolan did not update his status after you got married. As far as his sister, his relationship, his bank account where his pay went, that was his personal business, we had no control over his affairs. Just so you know, Major Nolan’s sister had his power of attorney. All of that information is in the packet Captain Kimball gave you. Right after his leave, when I assume you were married, Major Nolan deployed. You can’t blame the entire United States Army for his failure to change what needed to be changed,” Colonel Atkins said gently. “I understand your being upset, but—”

“When, exactly, did my husband die? You say he was injured eleven months ago. The officers said that his sister claimed his benefits, but when they found out about me, they tried to find her but couldn’t since she had apparently moved. So how long ago did he actually die? A few weeks? A few months?” Bella asked through clenched teeth.

Colonel Atkins took another deep breath. “Eight months ago.”

“Eight months! Is that what you said? Eight months?” Bella started to wail and scream at the top of her lungs. The nurse, Lieutenant Gibson, rushed to put her arms around her. Bella shook her off but allowed the lieutenant to lead her to the sofa and sit down with her.

“Andy, and he asked me to call him Andy since I was his full-time nurse, talked about you all the time in the beginning, when he had the strength. He didn’t want you to know how badly he was injured. He hoped, and we in the medical field encouraged the hope, that something could be done for him. He said you were too young to be burdened with what he called his condition. He never called you by name until the very end. He would just refer to you as the love of his life. Or his soul mate. One time, he said that the minute he laid eyes on you, he knew you were his destiny. He loved you, Mrs. Nolan, heart and soul.”

Bella sniffed. “Not enough to trust me. I would have been at that hospital twenty-four/ seven, doing whatever I could. I filed for divorce today because I could not understand how and why he couldn’t get word to me when the other wives had FaceTime and shared messages. I thought all kinds of crazy things during all those months. I didn’t know. How could I not have known, felt something? How? Now I have to live with that.

“I had mean, evil thoughts during those months. There were days when I hated Andy for not getting in touch. The truck he loved so much has not been repaired. I can’t pay for it. I don’t have any money except my salary. And now you’re telling me I won’t even get his insurance.

“How did you find me? For eleven months you couldn’t find me, when I was living in the same place I had been when we got married, then suddenly, after I move, you show up. How goddamn convenient. This smells like a cover-up of some kind to me. Well?” she screamed again, only this time it sounded more like a frog croaking. Clearly, she was losing her voice.

“It wasn’t easy, I can tell you that. Like I said, your husband’s entire team was killed. All we had to go on was his military personnel file, an absentee sister we couldn’t find at first, and what little Major Nolan shared with Lieutenant Gibson. The last week, when Major Nolan’s condition deteriorated, he asked me to write you a letter or, if possible, to go and see you. I said I would. But before he could tell me where you lived, he died. All he told me was that your name was Bella. He did not even tell me that you were his wife. It was not until one of his buddies told us that he had gotten married on his last leave that we knew a wife even existed. Once we knew, we went back through his file and discovered the letter I had written, the one that was addressed to Bella, but we could find no one named Bella Nolan until you moved and changed your telephone listing.”

“My God. I changed everything else, but the one thing I did not do was notify the telephone company of the name change, never dreaming that it could make a difference,” Bella said, the anguish clearly heard in her tone of voice.

“All those months he . . . I didn’t have a clue . . . he really was trying to protect you and didn’t want you worrying about him. I guess it never occurred to him that not hearing from him was worse. Sometimes, men are not . . . not as . . . intuitive as women. Sad to say. The letter . . . the letter is inside the packet.

“If it is any consolation to you, Mrs. Nolan, I made sure I visited your husband twice a day when possible. I was with Major Nolan when he passed. I was holding his hand. I went to his funeral. I prayed for him. I just want you to know that. He didn’t die alone. If I had known how to find you, I would have defied him and broken my promise to him and fetched you to his side.”

Bella nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I believe you,” she whispered. “Is Andy . . . is he buried in Arlington National Cemetery?”

“Yes. Everything is in the packet, all the information you need. Major Nolan’s body arrived here with no belongings, so there is nothing to turn over to you. I’m sorry.”

Bella nodded again. “Thank you. I really would like to be alone now if you don’t mind. And before you can ask, no, I am not okay. I won’t be okay for a long time to come, but I do know how to cope, and if I feel I need a shrink or a therapist, I will get one. Right now, I think I’ve earned the right to wallow for a while. You all don’t need to see me bang my head on the wall or hear me cussing up a storm. So, please, just go now and leave me to myself. I have your cards, and I will call you if I feel the need. I am being as truthful as I can be right now.”

Bella literally jumped to her feet, ran to the door, and threw it open. Her guests had no other choice but to get up and leave. There were no hugs, no handshakes. “Just go,” Bella said.

The sound of the dead bolt shooting home once the door closed was the loudest sound Bella had ever heard in her entire life.