| Subject: Empty Reflections Part Three |
Author:
Karen
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Date Posted: 12:42:49 08/17/08 Sun
In reply to:
Karen
's message, "Empty Reflections-Prologue" on 14:52:42 08/05/08 Tue
A/N: Sorry I meant to post this yesterday but we got sidetracked by a thunderstorm. Unfortunately, still no rain.
Keep an eye on the time stamp from here on as some of the chapters especially later on will happen only moments apart.
Empty Reflections
Part Three
Chesapeake Grand Hotel
Baltimore MD
August 2004
Thursday 1820
Harm was definitely worried. His workshop had finished at 1645, and he’d returned to the hotel to freshen up. On a sudden whim, he’d made a reservation in the main dining room. He thought she’d enjoy a nice dinner, and there should have been plenty of time for her to change out of her uniform into something more comfortable.
He hadn’t seen her or heard from her since 1245 when they separated to go to their respective seminars. In spite of the fact that she was a Marine, and reminded him of this fact regularly, it did nothing to alleviate his uneasiness. His apprehension wasn’t logical. In fact it would have made him feel a little foolish if the anxiety hadn’t been so strong. In his opinion, Mac’s mind was dwelling on something, and he felt certain he knew what it was.
She’d been distant at lunch, preoccupied and disinterested when he’d cautiously steered her toward the only kiosk in the convention center food court that actually served fresh vegetables and something besides fried beef. Mac always had very definite opinions about food, but when he ordered her a salad without so much as an ounce of beef, she hadn’t even batted an eye.
“No objections, Marine?” he’d asked when he handed her a large plate of grilled chicken, fruit, and vegetables.
“What? Oh, no, this is fine, Harm,” she’d replied absently.
“You okay?” He eyed her closely. She had agreed to her doctor’s recommendations for a healthier diet, but she always put up a token fuss.
“Sure, why?” She tried to pull her attention back to her handsome husband.
“Oh, nothing, I just thought something might be bothering you.”
“No, Harm. I’m fine. What do you mean?” She still wasn’t really concentrating.
“You seem distracted. Ever since this morning at breakfast…Ben’s story… you just seemed…I don’t know, like it was bothering you.”
“No, not at all.” She dropped her eyes away, then protested. “Just curiosity… you know, Harm… an unsolved case…investigations handled badly …it’s curious, that’s all.”
However, he knew his beautiful wife well. Something in Ben’s tale had touched her deeply, much more deeply than the idle curiosity of someone involved with criminal justice. On two additional occasions, after the case in February, her mind had reached out and touched a monster in their midst. The contact had been brief in each case, but it was a disquieting pattern. He hoped it was just his imagination, this suspicion of a developing contact between his wife and the person responsible. Nevertheless, he was very worried.
Earlier this year, after the case in Norfolk, he’d asked Bud to research Mac’s elusive ‘talent’. The resulting information was disquieting at best. It suggested that Mac’s long history of nightmares had very possibly been the result of her unfocused and untrained mind having been touched by multiple similar contacts. Her experience when Chloe went missing, and again when Harm was lost at sea, had incorporated the element of someone she cared about deeply. The experience had inadvertently taught her mind to find and channel these tenuous links. A later case involving a Naval officer she’d been working with had only increased her skill.
The case in Norfolk had been nebulous and initially proximity driven until Harm unwittingly became the link to the man responsible for the killings. Once the close contact occurred, her mind had connected directly through their bond. Unfortunately, when that link was accomplished it was so strong that Mac became tortured by the idea that Harm was the killer. Since that experience her psychic senses appeared to act as a metaphysical radar, and with each new experience, her contact skills grew more finely tuned.
Though the strongest contact had ultimately been channeled through Harm, surprisingly she had next made an inadvertent contact though Bud on a case she wasn’t involved with directly. That incident had resulted in a new investigation.
The final contact targeted someone who’d come forward as a witness against her client. It was someone she hadn’t even met. Someone she had only glimpsed sitting in Sturgis’ office. But the images had been clear and detailed.
She’d had no idea how to tell Sturgis or the Admiral what she’d discovered. However, the woman had possessed an innate sensitivity of her own and had quickened to the contact. She’d waited for Mac after work, following her to a local grocery store. In the dusky parking lot, the ‘witness’ had boldly attacked Mac, believing her to be a simple paper pusher. It was only the Marine’s skill at self-defense that saved her from injury.
Though her senses were delivering increasingly complete information, she still lacked control over them. She had no power to shut them down at will. And Bud had revealed to Harm, after he learned of Mac’s pregnancy, that her condition could possibly enhance her abilities. It had something to do with gestating women being more sensitive. It was not something Harm wanted to hear.
The good part of this was that the non-specific nightmares had stopped almost completely. The bad part was that her growing skill was giving her increasingly more vivid mental pictures and a stronger link when she did make contact. The danger was building that the power of her connection could result in a kind of feedback that would alert the perpetrator.
It was the peril this form of connection might hold for her that had Harm worried. He knew she’d been in the afternoon session with Ben, and that Ben would risk anything to keep her safe, but their workshop was supposed to have concluded at 1730 and it only took ten minutes to get from the convention center to the hotel. They were over half an hour late.
Was it possible a single murderer existed in this case, and he had become aware of Mac and her dubious talent?
He pulled out his cell to call her again, something he’d done three times in the last half hour.
“Mackenzie,” she answered
“Mac, where are you?” relief made his voice sharp.
“I’m on the bus. We’ll be there in a few minutes.” Then picking up on his tone added, “Harm, what’s wrong? Are you all right?”
“Am I all right? I’ve been worried sick. I thought your seminar got out at 1730.”
“It was supposed to, we ran overtime. Everyone kept asking questions. I didn’t think we’d ever get out of there.” She sounded tired and a little annoyed.
“Okay, Mac, as long as you’re safe.”
“Why in the world wouldn’t I be safe, Harm?” then he heard the aside. ‘He’s worried because we’re late. I know, Ben’” she said.
“Is Ben there?”
“Of course he is. Harm, I don’t know what the problem is, but I had the definite impression at lunch that you would have dropped your workshop and come with me if Ben hadn’t been there. Now what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Mac. It’s okay now. You’re safe. I’ll see you when you get here.”
“We’re just turning the corner, be there in two minutes. Bye.” The line closed.
“Bye,” he replied absently to dead air. He paced the lobby nervously, wondering if she would be hungry (wasn’t she always?) or if she would want to go straight in to dinner. The reservation was for 1830, perhaps he should change it for later. She still might want to go upstairs and change.
He stood aside watching from the tall lobby windows as the small luxury bus pulled into the valet area. At the same time, a rather large group of women, sprinkled with a few men, came bursting noisily through the front door
“I told you we should get here early…” “he could come in at any time…” “never know when they might get done…” “don’t want to miss him…”
The disjointed comments drifted past Harm’s mind barely making contact.
“Mac,” he stepped around the ornate glass and brass revolving door as she and Ben pushed through.
“Harm what ever is wrong with you? Has something new happened?” she insisted. Her temper flared at his unreasonable protectiveness.
“No, nothing, it’s okay now. I was just worried. I know it was pointless. And I know you can take care of yourself, besides you had good backup,” he smiled over her shoulder at Ben who returned the conspiratorial smile.
“But that’s the point, Harm, why would you worry? If anything had happened, I would have called.”
“It’s nothing, Mac. I tried to call you several times and couldn’t get through. Never mind…”
“Oh. They made us turn off our phones for the class, and as I said, we went into overtime with all the questions…I’m sorry…”
“Don’t, it’s my fault” he responded quickly, then changed the subject. “Look, I made reservations for all of us for dinner in the main dining room. Sort of a treat. But maybe I can negotiate an extra fifteen minutes, or even change it for later if you’d like to go freshen up.” He raised an eyebrow in question.
“No way, Sailor, I’m famished. I can eat just fine in my uniform. It’s never stopped me before.” The ever-practical Marine smiled her reassurance. “Lead on. Filet Mignon here I come.”
Harm laughed, more comfortable now, and gently placed his hand at her back. Ben followed a few steps behind in the crowded lobby.
Suddenly someone shouted from the midst of the milling crowd… “THERE HE IS”…and all heads turned towards Harm.
Harm, Mac and Ben were quickly overwhelmed, pressed into by the group of people shoving papers and photographs their way, accompanied by a blinding barrage of camera flashes as photos were snapped.
“Michael! Please sign for me, my name is Marilee…” “Me first! I’m Deborah…” “I’m next! Write it to Jamey!” The requests were pushed at him from all directions.
Harm tried to deflect the press of people, tried to explain that there was a mistake. Shielding Mac, he began backing away when another camera barrage assaulted them from the side.
“This way Morgan, look over here,” Harm heard. “Who’s the arm candy? She your new conquest?” the rude man asked, garnering a blazing look from Harm that was duly recorded at fifteen mega-pixels.
“Look you…” Harm moved in front of Mac to confront the man, while Ben intervened at his back.
“Hey, lookee here, Morgan’s getting mad. Hey, Morgan, is that your bun in her oven?” the photographer taunted with a dirty snicker, hoping for an even better shot.
At that point, Harm would have probably done bodily damage to the sneering photographer if Mac hadn’t held him back.
“Oh look now, the little girl is protecting the big bad star,” he laughed and snapped more pictures.
“I’m not Morgan,” Harm insisted heatedly, his jaw clenched tightly around his words. He was forced to struggle to keep Mac protected behind him. At the ‘little girl’ remark she’d almost gone over the top of him to get to the slimy shutterbug.
“Yeah, Yeah, we know, you’re Peter Pan,” the man laughingly continued his mocking tone. He worked the camera’s shutter, in spite of his assistant trying to pull him away. For some reason the out of uniform Navy Captain hadn’t given the man pause, but the Marine behind Harm was bringing second thoughts about their safety.
Finally, Ben had made headway to the rear, clearing a path through the star struck crowd with the help of the quickly assembled security force.
“He’s no one important, folks.” Harm heard the same theme in several voices as they were ushered by protective blue blazers.
“Just a stand-in,” the guards joked.
“Michael Morgan won’t be here for half an hour,” another voice informed.
Moans, groans, and disbelieving protests followed the comments.
“Now you people need to behave or we’ll clear the lobby. Go on now. Over there by the wall and wait or out you all go. This is private property. Y’hear?” The security chief asserted his authority.
Slowly they moved the crowd away from Harm and Mac, corralling the overzealous group on the far side of the huge lobby.
Harm took Mac’s elbow and headed toward the dining room.
Just then, something tingled in the hairs at the back of Mac’s neck. It was a familiar feeling. She half-turned, and glanced back across the lobby as an attendant chill ran up her spine. For just a brief moment, a young woman with dark hair had hesitated in the entrance to the elevator. She looked intently at Mac before she allowed the doors to close in front of her.
“What’s is it?” Harm asked looking back.
“Nothing …uh…nothing, Harm. It’s okay.”
“Mac?”
“C’mon,” Ben urged. “Let’s get to the dining room.”
Watching his back, he literally shooed his besieged friends toward the ornate room.
A smiling host greeted them at the podium. “Mr. Rabb?”
“Captain Rabb,” Harm corrected.
“Party of two?”
His mind elsewhere Harm answered, “Three, please.”
The host’s puzzled look lasted only an instant before he recovered his professionalism. “Of course, we have your table,” he assured smoothly, as he released the catch on the velvet rope at the entrance to the exclusive room. “Please accept my apologies. I had been warned. I should have called security sooner.”
“Warned?” Harm questioned.
“About your resemblance to Mr. Morgan. Please, once again, I apologize, sir.”
There it was, further verification of what Mac and Ben had told him at breakfast. Apparently, he had a double, and obviously the other man was a dead ringer as Ben had put it so succinctly. It was a very odd feeling, made more uncomfortable by the other man’s notoriety, and the heavy questions pending with regard to those deaths.
Harm took a deep breath and felt Mac’s hand tighten on his arm. He slowly expelled the breath, smiled his most politically correct smile, and addressed the host. “I’m sure it wasn’t your fault. Thank you for your help.”
“Most kind of you, sir. This way to your table.” He showed them to a table in the corner of the room overlooking the softly lit back garden. “Will this do?”
“Yes, it’s very nice,” Harm replied. “Thank you.”
The man had pulled out the best chair for Mac, placing her so she could look into the garden of fountains and late summer flowers.
Harm took a seat beside her then turned as they heard a small commotion near the door. It was only then that Harm noticed Ben wasn’t with them. As the host scurried back to his post, the disorder was instantly quelled.
Harm started to rise, but thought better of leaving Mac alone. Angry and impatient as she might become at his over-protectiveness, his feelings were something he’d learned to trust. He wouldn’t discard them because Mac might be annoyed. A moment later, Ben stepped past the velvet rope and joined them.
“What was that all about?” Harm asked, as Ben slipped into the third chair.
“That? Oh, nothing. Seems that paparazzi fellow tripped and broke his fancy camera. Might have even lost all the pictures he took out there just now,” Ben smiled.
“Ben…!” Mac exclaimed softly. She was certain of Ben’s ability to engineer an incident so it would appear to be an accident.
“Hey, little lady, it wasn’t all my fault, scouts honor. Man’s just too clumsy to be handling expensive equipment.” His smile left his words open to interpretation as he continued. “Look you two have a nice cozy little dinner. Maybe I’ll slip in later and join you for coffee or desert, but I want to touch base with that security chief out there and find out some stuff about what’s going on. We’re going to grab a chicken fried steak in the coffee shop.”
“What is going on?” Harm asked at the same time that Mac remarked, “The food is much better here.”
“That’s what I’m going to find out,” he answered Harm, then turned to Mac. “I guess I’m just in the mood for some down home cookin’ tonight. You two have fun. I’ll be back in an hour or so, maybe join you for coffee and dessert,” he repeated as he rose, strode across the room, and disappeared through the doors.
“Harm what do you think…?”
“I haven’t a clue, but whatever he’s up to I’m sure we’ll hear about it later. Suppose we go ahead and have that nice dinner. That host isn’t going to let anyone in here to bother us further. He was so upset he probably has two burly guards stationed at the door.” Harm laughed lightly, then smirked mischievously. “I think I’m up for a nice romantic dinner with my arm candy.”
“Well if you have anything else romantic in mind, Sailor, you’d better lose that expression right now,” she threatened with mock ire.
A secret smile passed between them just as the waiter stopped to take their drink order, and offer a complimentary plate of appetizers.
End part three
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