Memories…
 
 

SATURDAY EVENING
 

The snow was beginning to fly outside of the house in Arlington.  The weather service had warnings out for a possible blizzard north of DC, but that depended upon the track the storm finally took.  Inside the normally tranquil house, Amanda Stetson’s emotions were in turmoil as she tried to deal with the revelation that her father may not have been the man she thought he was.  The clear plastic bag that held the counterfeit money Lee had retrieved from the old bed, was sitting on the kitchen counter.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the old Silver Certificates,” Amanda pointed out, shaking her head in disbelief.  “If you hadn’t told me the money was counterfeit, I wouldn’t have known.”

“I have to admit, if Woody hadn’t told me the bills were phony, I wouldn’t have known either.  I bet that’s why nobody noticed during the poker game,” Lee commented briefly glancing at the bills in the bag.  “Amanda, how old were you when your father died?”

Pacing the room anxiously, she answered.  “Eighteen, he died in the spring of 1969.  I was away at college.”

“You were really just a kid.”

“Lee, I’m a trained agent,” she grumbled scathingly.  “You can quit the soft interrogation.  If you want to know something, just ask.”

Taking a deep breath, he rubbed his forehead, frustrated at the situation.  “All I’m trying to point out is that eighteen isn’t very old.  How well do we really know our parents at that age?”

“My father and I were close; I was closer to him than I was with Mother.  He was a good man,” she snapped irately, not willing to believe anything less of her beloved father.

Reaching out for his wife, he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.  He was worried about her, but he wondered how far she’d be willing to go to keep her father’s reputation honorable.  “Is keeping your father’s name and reputation worth jeopardizing Philip’s future?  We’re not talking about a parking ticket, Amanda…”

“Of course I’m not going to let Philip take the blame for somebody else, but I swear to you, there’s more to this than meets the eye, Lee.  You of all people should understand that.  You only knew your parents for five years, yet you risked your life, and your job to prove they were innocent of the charges that Blackthorne concocted against them.   You knew it couldn’t be true.  I feel the same way about my parents.  Only I knew my dad a lot longer than you knew your parents!”

“Amanda, I’ll call Woody at the Secret Service on Tuesday, but he’s going to want more than the bag of money on the table,” he warned.  “Think about it, we both hold sensitive positions in the government; you at the Agency, me over at the Justice Department.  The potential scandal that might ensue from this debacle could end both of our careers, or the very least, severely limit our security clearances.”

“The Secret Service wants to make sure there’s not any conspiracy,” she argued, her voice cracking with emotion.  “They’ll be satisfied once they know it was all an innocent mistake.  You can give them the rest of the money you found and that will be that.  They’re not going to want to spend a lot of time checking into bogus bills that are 30 years old.”

Lee grimaced, having been briefed by the Secret Service; he knew there was more to it than she did.  Running his hand through his hair, he shook his head.  He didn’t want to tell her the remaining details that Woody had shared with him, but he knew she could read him like a book.  “They’re going to want details.  They’re going to want to know where Philip found the money, whose bed it is, was...”

Studying her husband’s face, she surmised, “There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”

Lee turned away from her, glancing out the window at the brewing storm.  Without looking at her, he proposed, “I’m only suggesting that you were an innocent kid back in the 60’s, a teenager when your dad died.  At that age, we see our parents differently…”

“What is it you haven’t told me?  You told me Woody briefed you, do I have to call him?” she persisted glaring over at the phone.

“Let’s sit down,” he said calmly, walking over to his wife.  Taking her by the hand, he could feel the tension in her body as he guided them back to the family room couch.

“Every time we sit down on this damn couch, you tell me something else I don’t want to hear,” she reminded him suspiciously.

For a few moments, Lee Stetson sat in silence.  Twice he opened his mouth to say something, but both times, he stopped before uttering a sound.  Taking a deep breath, he began to explain.  “Woody gave me a full briefing on the bills.  They are counterfeit, but there’s a twist.  The police ran the serial numbers on the bills while they had Philip in custody and that’s when the red flags went flying.  Those bills were old, like I said; they hadn’t seen the light of day since the early 60’s.”

“So?” she shrugged in confusion, not following his chain of thought.  “Why is the Secret Service so interested in $160 worth of funny money?  Is it because we work for the government?”

“No.  They don’t suspect either of us.  The problem is, what the bills were used for,” Lee admitted reluctantly.  “The last time the money was used, was in wet operations.”

“Wet operations?” she repeated her eyes wide open and her face losing its color.  Now wringing her hands together nervously, she continued, “I know I’m going to regret asking, but for what?”

Lee Stetson’s voice was low, but deadly serious.  “The bills were made at the height of the cold war, more specifically, around the time of the Cuban Missile Crisis.”

“Oh my gosh!” she gasped.

Lee nodded, waiting a few minutes while Amanda digested the information he had grudgingly shared.  “Your father was in the military.”

“Yes, he joined the Navy after Pearl Harbor, but I already told you, he was honorably discharged after the war.  That’s a fact.”

“I’m not disputing that.”

“I refuse to believe that he could have been mixed up in something illegal. He was very patriotic, Lee.  He wouldn’t sell out, certainly not for money.  It has to be a mistake,” Amanda Stetson affirmed staunchly.  “Maybe the money was in the bed since before they bought it?”

“You said you remember the bed being in your house when you were a little girl, right?”

“Yeah, I remember one Father’s Day when I was pretty young.  I got up early, and made daddy pancakes for breakfast, and served him breakfast in bed.”  Laughing, she continued reminiscing.  “Only, I wasn’t much of a cook at that age.  They were doughy, undercooked, and swimming in maple syrup, but he ate every bite of it, smiling proudly at me.”

“How old were you?” he prompted, already rather certain of her answer.

“Oh, I don’t remember for sure seven, maybe eight.”

Taking a deep breath, he rubbed her back gently before adding.  “The money in question was fabricated in the early 1960’s, before the Bay of Pigs invasion.  You would have been ten years old.  It couldn’t have been in the bed when they bought it.”

“Damn it, Lee!” she yelled, now standing up and pacing the room again.  “I know how things appear right now, but I’m telling you, my father was not a counterfeiter, and he certainly wasn’t a paid assassin.”

“I believe you, Sweetheart, really I do.  Unfortunately, I’m not the one you’ll have to convince.  The Secret Service is going to want more than your word.”

Tears now filled Amanda’s eyes.  Looking at her husband in anguish, she croaked out, “He was a wonderful man.”

“I never doubted that for a second.  We’ll figure this out.”  He reached out his hand for her, offering it so she’d sit back down next to him.  She took it, and he squeezed her hand, showing her his support.

“Thanks… for believing me.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and leaned his head until it rested against hers.  “You know, we’ve been married for over five years now, but you’ve rarely talked about your father.  Why don’t you tell me more about him?”

She didn’t need further prompting, with a smile on her face, and joy in her voice, she began to tell Lee about her dad.  “You two would have really liked each other.  Franklin James West was a great dad.”

“You named Jamie after your dad!” Lee replied, connecting the two names for the first time.

“Both of the boys, actually: Philip Franklin King and James Joseph King.  I wished my father had been around when the boys were little,” Amanda whispered, getting teary eyed again.   “And even more after the divorce.”

“Hey,” Lee warned, wiping the tears from her eyes.  “You know I hate it when you cry.”

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled and took a deep breath.  A smile washed across her face and in a voice filled with love and caring, she shared her memories with Lee.  “OK, let me tell you about my father.  He was only seventeen when he enlisted in the Navy.  He had to get written permission from his folks to join the service.”

“Where did he serve?” he asked, encouraging her to tell him more.

“In the Pacific, somewhere,” she replied, for a moment, a look of regret crossed her face.  “When I was a kid, I was never interested in his war stories.  It wasn’t until after he died that I gave it much thought.  The Navy presented mother with an American Flag at his funeral.  He had a massive heart attack when he was only 45.”

Lee turned away from her, trying to conceal his concerned face from his wife.  He couldn’t help but wonder if her father had actually died of a sudden heart attack, or was it something else?  Was he… murdered for something he knew, or something he was hiding?  Putting his game face on, he turned back towards his wife.  “Did he have a history of heart trouble?” he asked curiously.

“Not that I remember, he hadn’t complained of any problems.  However, my dad was like that.  He sprained his ankle once when we were out hiking.  We hiked for hours that day and he never let on that he was hurt.”

“Sounds like a remarkable man.”

“He was.  His death was a tremendous loss for mother and me,” she swallowed hard, trying to keep the painful memories at bay.  “I could always talk to him; he was very patient, and a great listener.  Taught me to ride a bike, and how to whistle, took me roller-skating, and taught me to swim.  There is so much I would have liked to have known about him.  You know not only his Navy career, but all the little things you don’t think are important when you’re a kid.”

“I know,” Lee whispered somberly, wrapping her in his arms as they both contemplated their respective losses.  Remembering the short time he’d spent with his parents before they died.  “What did your dad do after the war?”

“He was discharged from the Navy in 1946, but my parents weren’t married until 1947.”

“How come?”

“My dad enlisted in the Navy before he finished high school.  He insisted on having his high school diploma before they got married,” she explained.  “My father was a strong believer in the merit of education.”

“A wise man.”

“He was really smart, always tinkering with something around the house.  No matter what he was doing, he did the job well.  Did you know for my ninth birthday he built me a dollhouse?  He even made some of the furniture.  It had a little fireplace, a cupola on the roof, and a special key that unlocked the front door!” she stopped for a moment and laughed heartily.  “The doll house was enormous.  We had to keep it in the basement because it was too big for my bedroom.  You know, he even made a little address sign for it, let me think… it had a color in the name, Greenbush Way or something like that.”

“Sounds like it was really special,” Lee replied, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“It was; he was.  He fixed my bikes, roller skates, took me hiking and camping.  We’ve been all over Virginia camping.”

“Yes, I remember your knowledge of the Virginia countryside came in handy more than once over the years,” he winked, and then kissed her on the cheek.  “What did your dad do for a living?”

“When I was younger, he worked at various construction jobs, doing electrical work and carpentry.  The problem with that was the work wasn’t always steady.  You know, when one big job was done, he had to find another.  Mother told me that once he quit his job and was out of work for weeks,” she recalled with a shrug.  “I was too young to remember, but I think that’s when he found a position with the government – steady pay, good benefits.”

“Did he ever travel?”

She thought about the question for a while before responding.  “For a while he did.  Maybe that’s why he made me that big dollhouse.  I guess he felt bad that he’d been out of town so much.  As I already mentioned, he eventually took a government job in DC.  Somehow, he ended up working for the Department of the Interior.”

“What did he do there?” Lee pressed, trying to get a better grip on who his deceased father-in-law was.

“To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure what he…” she stopped talking and stared at her husband.  Tears flooded her eyes once more.  Swallowing hard, she croaked out unnerved.  “For someone who claims to have been close with her father, I really didn’t know him very well, did I?”

“You were eighteen when he died,” he reiterated, wanting to console her, but from the insecure appearance on her face, he knew there was little he could do.

“Lee, how do I know my father was who I thought he was?”

“You don’t,” he answered pointedly, “but we’ll just have to find out who he was.  Are you willing to do that?”

Amanda hesitated for a moment before nodding.  “Yes, but I don’t know where this might lead us…”

“When has that ever stopped us before?” he questioned, taking her hand in his again and squeezing it.  The phone rang startling them both.  “That should be Philip.  Go easy on him, Amanda.”

Standing up, she smiled at her husband before going into the kitchen and picking up the phone.  “Hello… Hi, sweetheart, I’m glad you got back to school safely… ”
 

***
 

The snow had been light for most of the day, but the wind was still blowing harshly.  It was late in the afternoon and what natural light was left in the day was waning.  Amanda Stetson turned the dimmer switch for the chandelier over her dining room table on brightly.  Tonight there wouldn’t be a romantic dinner for two.  Instead, her dining room table was covered with 52 fake twenty-dollar bills.  Amanda stared at the bills as if they were a jigsaw puzzle.  However, she couldn’t seem to solve the puzzle or riddle or whatever it was.  It mystified her, and it was driving her crazy.

For a moment, her eyes focused on one bill, then scanned to another and yet another.  “I think I found something.”

“Amanda, stop staring at those damned bills.  I should have never let you open up the bag.  I promise we’ll figure this thing out, but you need a break.  We need a break,” Lee complained, running his hand through his hair.  His wife had been gawking at the bills for hours trying to solve the mystery.   “How about I go build a fire in the fireplace, then you and I can cuddle up together and relax with that bottle of wine I bought for our anniversary.”

“I admit that I was off base with thinking the 52 bills had some correlation to a deck of cards.  I totally forgot about the bills the Secret Service has in their possession,” she pointed out, ignoring his protest, “But look at these bills.  There’s writing on them.”

Lee sighed heavily, but knew his wife was motivated to find something tangible. Getting out of the chair where he’d been stretched out, he stood up, trying to work the kinks out of his back.  He gave the notes she was pointing to a cursory glance.  He’d had enough of the mystery money, and wanted her to put them away.  “Sweetheart, people write on money all the time.  I hardly think a letter here or there signifies some sort of cipher.”

“Normally I would agree, but these aren’t ordinary bills.  These phony bills have never been circulated publicly, correct?” she asked pleadingly, almost willing him to see her point of view.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he conceded, as he now studied the bills more intently.  Carefully, he picked up the bills that had a letter printed on them – eight of them in total.  On the bottom edge, there was one letter on each. After staring at them for a while, he was unable to figure out the cryptogram, and he put them back on the table.

Amanda reached for them, ordering them alphabetically.  Then she read them out loud trying to make sense of them:  “E, F, H, O, R, S, T, Y.  It must be a code of some sorts.”

“A thirty year old code,” he reminded her.  “Even if you had the crypto team run it through the Agency’s computers, it probably won’t be in there.”

“I refuse to give up so easily,” she griped, placing the eight bills near each other on the edge of the table.  Jotting down the letters on a scrap piece of paper, she brainstormed.  “Maybe they mean something together, what about: ‘horsey’, no that leaves out the ‘F’ and ‘T’.”

“How about ‘honesty’?” Lee attempted, trying to be supportive, despite his aggravation.

“No, there’s no ‘N’ and you didn’t use the ‘F’ or ‘R’ either.  Maybe, ‘forestry’?”

“Can you use ‘R’ twice?” he asked.

“I don’t know, this isn’t my code,” she snapped in frustration.

“You forgot the ‘H’, anyway,” he replied with a shrug.  Before they could continue, the lights blinked for a moment, before all the power went out.

“Great!” Lee grumbled at the situation.  “Now I suppose we’re in for a blizzard.”

“Ooops, sorry,” Amanda said, after accidentally stepping on Lee’s foot.   “I’ll light some candles.”

“Amanda, put the money back in the bag now,” he instructed, “before any of the bills gets lost or damaged.  I’ll get the fire started so we have heat.”

Lee tended to the fire, and soon a warm glow was emanating from the family room.  Standing up, he went into the kitchen to wash his hands.  Amanda came in with a flashlight in one hand, and a hurricane lantern in the other.

“I’ve got some candles in the cupboard.”

“Only light a few,” he warned.  “We don’t want to burn the house down.”

“This sure has been a crazy weekend,” she commented wistfully as she lit the candles and lantern.  The soft flickering light made her smile.

Although the power being out was an inconvenience, the fireplace and candles had changed the ambiance – the strain from earlier had diminished.  Lee Stetson was going to take full advantage of the situation – he was going to have a romantic evening with his wife in a last ditch attempt to salvage what was left of their weekend.

Sidling up behind her, he wrapped his hands around her and kissed the back of her neck.  She tried to pull away, but then he began to massage her neck and shoulders with his strong hands.  “Let’s see if we can get rid of some of this tension.”

“Lee, I know where this is going,” she balked, reaching for his hands, “and I’m really not in the mood.”

“Shhh, sweetheart, it’s supposed to be our anniversary weekend,” he grabbed her hands, then, holding them firmly, yet tenderly in his, he kissed the one first, then the other.

She continued to squirm, “Lee…”

Her husband wasn’t about to give up that easily.  Nuzzling her neck, he whispered another appeal, “Give me a chance, please?”

He could feel her body loosen up, ever so slightly and then she leaned back against his warm body.  “Mmm, that does feel very… relaxing.”

With that said, Lee’s lips met the soft skin on her neck and he gently placed tiny kisses one after the other.  His hands continued to caress and explore her body.  Content with his leisurely approach, and pleased by her reaction, he continued.  His lips sought out more of her exposed skin, pushing to the edge of the sweater, until he finally turned his wife’s body and captured her lips.

“I’ve never been able to resist your charms,” Amanda whispered fervently when they broke off the kiss.

“I’m glad I haven’t lost my touch,” he replied huskily.  “Why don’t you get some pillows and a few blankets and meet me in the family room.  We might be sleeping down here.  We can sip some wine and cuddle by the fire.”

“A wonderful idea,” she agreed before disappearing from the kitchen.

Lee was delighted at the sudden change in his fortune, now happy by the loss of electrical power.  Pouring two glasses of wine, he returned to the family room about the same time as his wife had arranged the blankets and pillows on the floor.  “Perfect timing.”

Giving his wife a glass, they clanked them together and each sipped at the wine.

Lee took Amanda’s free hand and brought it to his lips.  He tenderly kissed the back of it, and then his hand slowly caressed his way up her arm, to her neck.  Again, he continued with a series of tiny kisses.  Reaching her lips, his kisses turned more passionate and demanding, fulfilling each other’s desires until eventually their lips separated.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, almost out of breath.

“Oh, I’m not stopping, I promise.”  Reaching out for her drink, he placed them both on the end table.  “I plan on taking my time.”

“We’re not going to sit and relax by the fire?” she teased curiously, a mischievous grin on her face.

“We could be out of power for hours, who knows, maybe all night.  I plan to keep you occupied to make sure the weather doesn’t disturb you,” he answered, his fingers trailed along the ridge of her jawbone, down her neck and towards her breasts.

“All night, huh?” she replied as he helped her down to the floor and got comfortable on the blanket.  “How will we ever keep warm?”

“Don’t worry; I have several ideas in mind,” Lee replied as his arms wrapped around his wife and his lips captured hers once more.  The next few minutes, the two lovers spent pleasuring their mate with kisses and caresses.  Slowly, they removed their clothes piece by piece, until their bare skin was touching the other.

“Have I told you lately, how much I love you?” Amanda hushed out with desire.

“Almost as much as I love you,” he answered between kisses as he laid his wife down on the blanket.  Lee was about to kiss her again, when the power came back on.  He stopped for a moment, now glaring at the lights that were on in the room, mumbling a veiled threat at the power company’s timing.

Amanda couldn’t hold back a giggle, but reached up and turned his head to face her.  With the utmost sincerity, she suggested, “If you close your eyes, Mr. Stetson, you won’t even know the lights are on.”

“You always were the smarter partner, Mrs. Stetson,” Lee mused, again caressing her silky face with his hand while he gazed deeply into her dark eyes and attractive features.  He studied them, as if he was memorizing them.  Content her beauty was secure in his mind, he closed his eyes, and returned to making love to his wife…
 

End Part Three
 

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