ANOTHER CLUE
-Dis/Claimer-
. Chapter Eight .
Riley didn’t have much of a choice but to accept Ben’s temporary answer. He felt so helpless as he, Abigail, and Patrick went over to the FBI agents guarding Sadusky’s body. They couldn’t do much with a murder just taking place, but Riley knew Ben was going to be defiant somehow and go after the twins before he was given permission. He gave him less than twelve hours.
He looked at the ground as terrified guests walked around the yard. He didn’t understand why this had happened. The painting was obviously what they were after. It had to be worth a lot for the guy to kill someone and lift two kids. Maybe that was it? The kids were being held hostage in exchange for the painting? He didn’t know what else to think as Carolyn stood next to him sick to her stomach with guilt.
She was discreetly wringing her hands in front of her in shock as she stared at the people gathering around Sadusky’s body. She couldn’t think straight. Ian had wanted her killed after using her to find the portrait, someone else was killed at her expense, Walt had kidnapped the twins, and she was the one supposed to be shot.
Riley looked over at her, and she turned her head jerkily in his direction still trembling slightly. He swallowed back a painful lump, his eyes drifting off of Carolyn and on to the crime scene across the yard. They suddenly felt swollen and irritated. He blinked, trying to rid them of discomfort, but it still prevailed. He tried to ignore it, turning back to Carolyn. She didn’t look up from the scene immediately. He sighed, shaking.
“Are you okay?” he asked her again.
Carolyn looked up at him with no indication either way. Everything still had her shaken up. She looked incredibly pale in comparison to everything around her. It scared him.
“Come on,” Riley said. “You need to sit down.” She still held her attention to the crowd across the backyard, and Riley bit his lip. If she sat down out here, she wouldn’t stop looking over there. “Inside,” he suddenly added to his comment. “Let’s go inside. You can sit down in there.”
He enclosed her hand in his, and he slowly began to walk. She eventually moved, eyes still not leaving the sight. He was getting concerned she might faint or something any minute, so he walked a little faster. Carolyn absentmindedly had no trouble keeping his pace. Finally, Riley stepped onto the back porch and slid open the back door.
“In here,” he said, moving forward again. Carolyn did not move, though. He looked back at her, squeezing her hand and shaking her arm. “Carolyn!” She left her trance, looking over at him in surprise. Then. Her eyes fell on their hands, and she gave him a thoughtful look. Riley shoved some surfacing feelings in the back of his mind quickly. “Come inside,” he finally said.
She stepped inside compliantly, and both of them looked over at the fallen portrait on the hearth of the fireplace.
“We can’t let anyone near that,” Riley said. He looked back over at Carolyn. “Do you want anything to eat or drink? Come over here and sit at the bar. Maybe some water will-“
Carolyn squeezed his hand, and he immediately stopped talking. Her looked at her somewhat expectantly.
“I just want to go up to my room,” Carolyn said quietly. She looked on the verge of tears, and Riley understood why (or at least her thought he did). He nodded silently, and together they began to walk over to the large staircase.
Still holding hands.
Riley wasn’t sure why, but they were. Carolyn was either too upset to notice or to care he reasoned. Otherwise, why would he still be in this position with his worst enemy (although he had to admit, they had been in an even stranger position that morning out in the tent)? He said nothing as they climbed the stairs with great lack of energy and strength. It was like climbing a mountain without rope, though Riley didn’t really have the experience to place the analogy.
Then, a sense of accomplishment came over him as they reached the top landing. They went down the hallway that they both occupied, and Carolyn went in front, guiding him down to her door now. He opened the door for her, and she stepped inside, their hands finally slipping out of one another. Carolyn turned back to him wanting something to come out of her motionless lips. Riley just felt awkward as if he was saying goodnight to a girl he had just went out on a date with.
“You’re sure you’ll be alright?” he asked. She was so pale against the navy dress that flattered her. “You’re not going to lock the door and pass out so no one can rescue you, are you?”
“You never seem to have any trouble rescuing me,” Carolyn said quietly, finally looking at his face. She gave a hint of a smile, and Riley did as well. She was right. His timing was usually good when it came to saving her these passed two days.
“Well, just… I’ll be in my room if you feel sick or anything,” he said. “Just knock or come through the bathroom or whatever.”
Carolyn nodded slowly. “Thank you,” she said.
Riley was about to reply ‘no problem,’ but then her expression was thanking him for his perfect timing on the rescue from the murderer, and he didn’t know what to say. Her sincerity was distracting him.
“You’re welcome,” he stammered, looking at the floor. “Well, I’m gonna go change and-“
“Hey.” Riley looked up at her sharply as she leaned out of her doorframe towards him. He took a step forward curiously.
“What?” he asked, hovering uncomfortably mid-air a few inches from Carolyn.
He was afraid of her hesitation. She wasn’t speaking as if she had lost the knowledge of how to talk, and her eyes kept wandering to his mouth. The little voice in his head told him that this was only bad and that he should not be giving into temptation, but Riley only waited half-expectantly for something to happen.
But she wasn’t moving, and he was now feeling like an idiot just hovering there. He looked at the floor regrettably and began to stand up straight again when Carolyn said, “No, wait.”
She grasped the edge of his damp suit jacket and took a deep breath as he came back to her. Carolyn kept her eyes on his mouth as if she were concentrating. Riley felt extremely awkward. Possibly even more than he did that morning in the tent.
“Um, now what?” he asked, trying not to give in.
Carolyn stalled only a moment longer before pulling herself together. She lifted her head and kissed him softly, but Riley was still stunned. For three and a half seconds he couldn’t think again. This time however, it wasn’t as scary. He sort of liked it.
Carolyn broke the kiss she had started, averting Riley’s eyes completely. She had no reason for her actions at that very moment. It confused even her as she lingered there a minute, contemplating what she had just done. She had kissed her enemy and liked it. She must have completely lost it.
Riley just breathed, eyes on the floor as well. He was speechless.
“Well,” he finally said, swallowing another lump. “That was unexpected.”
Carolyn rose up in the doorframe in a trance. She looked at Riley apologetically with guilt. She couldn’t stand the way he was looking at her now. Everything was way out of step.
“Goodnight,” was her final resort. She stepped back and began to close the door. Riley stood there, swearing she had tears in her eyes. Powerless, the door closed on him, and he said his goodnight to the ground quietly before turning and walking towards his room.
It was definitely unexpected. His worst enemy, his target, the pain in his neck, the plague had just gone out of her normal stubborn mind and kissed him. And he actually liked it! And through all the mind-numbing events in the passed twenty minutes, that had to be the most shocking.
She kissed him.
He liked it.
What a messed up situation this was.
x x x
From behind her bedroom door however, Carolyn felt herself slip to the ground and fall apart. She began to cry silently. Everything was hitting her at once. Her brother’s betrayal, her own surfacing feelings of betrayal to the Gates family and Riley… None of them knew the truth or who she really was. They didn’t know that she was sent to steal the portrait. They didn’t know she was Ian’s sister. They didn’t know anything except that she was held at gunpoint when Riley had saved her.
She had kissed him. She didn’t know why. She wasn’t thinking straight at all, but how did that lead her to plant one on her worst enemy?
No. Ian was her worst enemy now. She suddenly vowed revenge. She was going to do whatever it took to stop him. She had to examine the portrait to see if what he suspected to be on it was really there. She hated to admit it, but she had nowhere else to turn since her brother had backstabbed her. Everything was a mess and moving onto the verge of disaster.
Ian was not going to happy when he found out.
x x x
The Black Chrysler sped through the empty streets into the Capitol. From the back seat, Charlie and Sally could not see much except for the lights out on the streets. The man that had taken them was sitting in the passenger’s seat as another man drove, pressing sixty at some points. Neither of them said a word. Sally sobbed a little as they turned sharp corners ever so often.
“Shut your mouth,” their captor said over his shoulder loudly.
“You can’t talk to her like that!” Charlie said suddenly, leaning forward to defend his little sister. Walt and Fischer, the man who was driving, looked at one another. Walt turned back to Charlie finding it somehow humorous that a five year old was yelling at him.
“Look, little boy,” he said, “I can do whatever I want. You know why? Because I’ve got one of these,” he said, holding up the large shiny pistol as Charlie’s eyes went wide. Walt laughed and put it down. “So I suggest you stay quiet, too.”
Walt turned back around slowly as Charlie fell back into the seat scared stiff. He looked over at Sally who was wiping her eyes.
“Where are we going?” she suddenly asked the men up front. Charlie tried to cover her mouth, but she blocked him. “When can we see Mom and Dad again?”
Charlie finally got his hand over Sally’s mouth as Walt turned around. Charlie was waiting for the gun to come up again, but Walt just smiled in a way that scared Charlie. He gulped.
“You don’t have to worry ‘bout that,” Walt said.
Suddenly, a cell phone began to ring. Charlie gave Sally a stern look advising her not to say another word, and her lips went into a pout. Their kidnapper Walt answered the ringing phone, as they remained silently scared in the back seat.
“Yeah,” the man with long black hair said for a greeting. “No, we didn’t… no, I didn’t… somebody walked in on us…” The man on the other end of the line could now be heard shouting all the way from the back seat. Charlie and Sally looked at each other scared.
“It’s all right,” Walt said to the screaming man. “I’ve got something that makes up for it… Fine… Yes… No, we’ll be there in a few hours… Fine… Fine… Bye.” Walt hung up the phone, and Sally opened her mouth again. Charlie gave an exasperated sigh.
“Why was the man on the phone mad?” she asked.
Walt turned around again. “He doesn’t like kids,” he said with his narrow eyes on her. Sally pushed back into the seat more. Walt looked up at Charlie who dared not speak.
“I need to use the bathroom,” Sally suddenly whined after five whole seconds of silence.
x x x
It was almost five in the morning, and Riley hadn’t left his room yet. He saw no point in going back downstairs to all the mayhem and commotion. The air felt thinner and a little more breathable up here in his room, so he stayed there.
Riley was getting a dull headache from thinking about everything. About Charlie and Sally, who had them, where they were, what Ben and Abigail were going to do to get them back; about Sadusky being murdered; about Carolyn being held at gunpoint, the burglar, the painting, the chaos, the kiss…
Eventually, he occupied himself with a video game since his laptop was regrettably still outside. The sound was barely audible from the television. It was one he had played numerous times, so at least he didn’t have to think much when it came to that. He had been playing it for two solid hours from a spot on his bed still in his wrinkled shirt and suit pants. The bowtie and jacket were discarded in a corner long ago when he had entered his room.
Riley was ready to call it quits on level fifteen out of boredom when somebody knocked on his bedroom door. He looked up to the door on the left wall as he put the controller down, and Ben opened the door. Riley sat up on the bed even more, moving some pillows out of his way. Ben, as predicted, looked troubled.
“Everything okay?” he asked his close friend. Riley got off the bed, giving the floor an unreadable expression. He finally lifted his head.
“No,” he muttered. “I’m just…” He let the sentence slip away as he and Ben looked over at his video game on the television.
“Occupying your thoughts with something other than what’s going on downstairs?” Ben asked. Riley couldn’t tell if the sarcasm in his voice was deliberate out of annoyance that he was up here hiding or he was just stating the obvious.
“Yes,” Riley finally said as Ben nodded. “Any news about anything yet?”
“None.” Riley didn’t think it was possible, but the man looked more upset than when he had discovered an empty treasure room down in the tombs six years ago. Ben’s negative karma was instantly depressing and making Riley even more miserable than he already was.
“Not a thing?” he asked hopefully for a leak of any of the smallest breakthrough. Ben shook his head regretfully.
“More FBI agents just arrived,” he said. “Agent Kinley is overseeing the investigation. She’s having a team look over Sadusky now, and another group is still questioning two or three of the guests.”
“She?” Riley asked skeptically. “The investigation’s being led by a woman?”
“Yeah,” Ben said. “They established women’s rights in-“
“All right, all right, don’t go into your ‘on-this-day-in-history’ spiral,” Riley said. “I get it. So have most of the guests left?”
“Yeah, and they’ll be wanting to question us when the rest of them leave,” Ben said. “Is Carolyn over in her room?”
“Yeah,” Riley said. “She wanted to come up after the whole thing, and she didn’t look too good. I stayed up here in case she needed anything.” He nodded to convince himself that that was all that happened as far as Ben was concerned.
Ben was nodding again. “Okay. I’ll go get her, and you need to go downstairs and help calm Abigail down. Dad isn’t doing so well with that.”
“Are they doing anything about the painting?” Riley asked quickly. “That’s what the guy was after in the first place.”
“Agent Kinley’s got a few questions for you and Carolyn about that,” Ben said. “They haven’t put up tape or anything, but no one’s gone near it. I think they’re photographing it now.” Riley nodded. “Just head down there and help with Abigail until they’re ready for us,” Ben said. “She needs to calm down. The last thing we need is the baby being born premature because of all this stress.”
“Gotcha,” Riley said as Ben walked out of the room. He followed, leaving his video game on the TV. Ben turned around halfway down to Carolyn’s door and said, “Make her some hot tea or something. That might help.”
“Doesn’t tea have caffeine in it?” Riley asked suddenly.
“Why does that matter?”
“Well won’t it make her more jittery and on edge?”
Ben stared down Riley until he turned and went for the stairs dejectedly.
“Make her some tea,” Ben repeated louder.
“Yeah, sure,” Riley mumbled. “Tea.”
He went down the stairs quickly to see things still dishelved and out of order around the rooms. An FBI agent was sitting in the white kitchen at the bar going over notes with an elderly couple while Ben’s father was trying to get Abigail to sit on the couch in the living room. As he came farther down, he looked back into the library passed Patrick and Abigail to the fireplace where the portrait was still in a mangled mess from falling. The knife was still in the wall, too. A photographer was walking away, looking down at his camera.
Absentmindedly, he walked over to Patrick and Abigail still overlooking and replaying the scene in his head with the painting and the burglar. He never did get a good look at the guy. It was too dark. And besides-
“Hey kid!”
Riley shook his head and looked at Patrick Gates who was waving a hand in front of his face vigorously.
“You want to help me here?” he asked, gesturing towards Abigail who was now on the couch. Riley looked down at her, and she looked back up with tear-filled eyes and some runny mascara. He said the first thing that came to mind.
“You want some tea?” he asked innocently. Abigail gave him a look at his odd question, and Riley got defensive. “Ben suggested it,” he said. “He said it might help calm you down.”
Abigail shook her head, but Riley rolled his eyes and only headed for the kitchen. He made the tea and brought it over to her along with a wet paper towel to wipe the smeared black rivers off of her cheeks. She accepted the tea as Ben came down the stairs, Carolyn not behind him.
“She’ll be down in a few minutes,” Ben said off Riley’s look of confusion as he walked over to them. He placed a hand soothingly over his wife’s back before a young woman in a clean suit walked up to their group. She had her neat dark hair pulled back in a ponytail.
“Mr. Gates, I’d like for you to come answer some questions for me about Mr. Sadusky,” she said.
“Okay,” Ben said quietly. He gave everyone a grim smile as he followed the sharply dressed woman outside.
“Do you want anything?” Patrick asked Abigail after they had left.
Abigail stared at the floor stubbornly. Riley sighed.
“Abs, you have to calm down,” Riley said. “It’s not good for the baby. Just take some deep breaths.”
“Riley-“
“No, seriously,” he said. “Don’t do anything but breathe. Just… breathe…”
Abigail sighed, realizing that he was right. Her strong wall was slowly going away now, and she looked up from her reflection in her cup of tea. Riley exchanged a glance with Patrick who nodded approvingly.
“I bet if you changed into something more comfortable that would help, too” Patrick told her. “An evening gown doesn’t help much. And you could lie down for a while.”
“But the agents need to question me still,” Abigail protested.
“They can wait. Ben Jr. can’t.”
Patrick helped up his daughter in-law and walked her over to the stairs as she looked over at him, not believing her own ears.
“Who said we’re naming it Ben Jr.?” she asked incredulously.
“You’ll get used to the idea.”
Riley let a smile pass over his face momentarily at the familiar argument. It hadn’t gotten old over the passed eight months; it was still fun to agitate Abigail as moody as she was. Riley remembered naming the twins. Ben with the history book in hand reading off names, Abigail trying not to strangle him from her hospital bed in between contractions, Riley standing off in the corner until he was absolutely needed… yeah, that was fun.
After reliving the memory a few seconds, Riley got bored and sat on the arm of the chair. He picked up the remote on the floor and turned on the television, lowering the volume immediately so he didn’t inconvenience any of the FBI personnel around him. He was hunched forward with his arms on his knees turning it to the local news channel to see if their story had made it to the media in a short seven hours.
Several minutes after watching the end of a paid programming advertisement for the Wonder Chef food processor, he heard someone else coming downstairs. He didn’t bother to turn around. It was probably just Patrick getting something for Abigail in the kitchen. He was too preoccupied; the Wonder Chef diced carrots perfectly, chopped onions without tears, sliced tomatoes with no mess, and it even came with a special grinding attachment for nuts. They needed one of those.
But out of the corner of his eye, he saw Carolyn come into view. Her beautiful blue dress was replaced with some jeans and a white tank blouse as she came over and curled up in a ball on the couch, her head down at the farther end. Riley kept watching Jeff Billings repeat the toll free phone number on the television screen.
“You’re watching a food processor advertisement?” Carolyn asked from down the couch. Riley looked up. He didn’t hear a lot of sarcasm, but he knew she intended it to be that way.
“I’m waiting for the news to come on,” he told her, looking back at the TV.
“Why?” she asked. “Haven’t you had enough of this yet?”
Riley scowled, not having the care to fight with her right now.
“Just stop it,” he said boredly.
A few moments later, Ben came back inside with the FBI woman beside him. She said something about being sorry for the loss before she walked over to some other agents. Riley assumed that she was Agent Kinley.
Ben stopped after she had left his side, turning something small in his hands. Riley looked up curiously.
“What’s that?”
“Sadusky’s ring,” Ben said solemnly, looking at the tiny gold band with the blue stone. “It’s the one with the Mason symbols I told you about. I saw it after I gave him back the Declaration in the Trinity Church.”
“I didn’t know Sadusky was a Mason,” Riley said with interest. He got up and walked over to Ben as he continued to look at the square and compasses enclosing a ‘G’ on the blue surface.
“Yeah,” Ben said quietly. “I think he might have been a Master Mason, too.”
“A Master Mason?” Riley asked skeptically. Ben nodded sadly at the ring.
“It doesn’t really matter now, though, does it?” Ben closed his hand tightly around the ring, and he placed his hand in his pocket. Riley remained silent. The only man who could probably help them was not only dead, but he was a Mason. A Master Mason according to Ben.
You learn something new everyday, Riley thought.
Ben was now striding into the living room. Riley followed as Carolyn lay on the couch still watching the television, entranced.
“Where’s Abigail?” Ben suddenly asked, stopping behind the couch to look at the fallen portrait on the fireplace’s hearth.
“Your dad took her upstairs to lie down,” Riley said, knowing he probably wasn’t listening. Ben was now finding time to mourn the loss of the painting. He was very partial to it. “Ben? Ben?”
He still looked on at the broken fame hanging around the edges of the portrait. Riley was about to roll his eyes. Kids gone, FBI agent murdered, and he cries over a picture of George Washington.
“Ben, it’s a painting for God sakes,” Riley said. “There are other things to worry about.”
“If it’s what the man was after…”
“Well sure,” Riley said, following Ben as he moved closer to the painting. “You found it in the biggest treasure ever discovered. Why wouldn’t somebody want it? It’s worth one fourth the cost of the house.”
Carolyn sat up curiously.
“You found it amongst the treasure?” she suddenly asked. Ben and Riley turned around to see her eagerly perched up on the couch. Ben nodded to her with a surprised look after her sudden show of interest.
“Yeah.”
“It’s important to you?” she asked, leaving the couch now.
Riley made a sound at the understatement between a snort and a laugh. “Are you kidding?” he asked. “It’s his favorite painting ever. After he found it in the treasure, he was running around begging the FBI if he could keep it for himself as part of the finder’s fee. I don’t know why. The big blueish-green man was cooler.”
Ben gave an embarrassed chuckle before turning to Riley. “Isn’t that thing up in your room?” he asked.
“Yes,” Riley mumbled as Carolyn gave him an unsure look.
“There’s a big blueish-green man in your room?” she asked.
“He’s a statue from the 18th dynasty of Egypt,” Riley said defensively. “And Ben’s painting is from the 18th century of the American Revolution. Big deal.”
Suddenly, Ben was kneeling down beside the painting, putting his fingers into a dark crack between the canvas and back of the broken frame. Riley watched in alarm.
“Hey! What are you doing?” he said. “Don’t touch it!”
“There’s a back,” Ben said, ignoring him. “Most frames back them didn’t have a back to them.”
“So what? Don’t touch it!” Riley said. “The guy’s fingerprints-“
Suddenly, a piece of the frame fell off to the floor after Ben had bumped it. Riley looked horrified. Slowly, Ben resumed his examination, now trying to move the canvas away from the back of the frame. He saw something. Something very out of place from the little light that was in the crevice.
Carolyn looked over at Riley who was moving forward now.
“Ben! What are you doing!” he practically shouted. “Don’t!”
With a gentle tug, he removed the large canvas and stared at the back of the frame. Riley immediately gave up his fruitless attempt at fighting Ben’s curiosity, and Carolyn moved closer with intrigue as Ben leaned the portrait of the first president against the heart carefully, eyes not leaving his find. While Ben and Riley were rendered speechless in awe, Carolyn’s voice had disappeared for the fact that her brother’s suspicions had been correct. The portrait did have more value it appeared.
Slumped against the back of the frame and a broken edge was what appeared to be the Constitution of the United States.
Riley did not believe his eyes.
“Are you seeing this?” he asked breathlessly. Ben and Carolyn nodded, Carolyn’s mouth now agape. Ben moved over to the side of the frame and kneeled again. He looked at it intensely as Carolyn and Riley hurried over to the other side. Ben was overly perplexed, thinking of any explanation he could.
“Is that the-? It can’t be-“
“It’s not,” Ben said, cutting Carolyn short. “But it is.”
“What?” Riley asked.
“It’s a duplicate,” Ben replied in amazement, running a finger along its edge carefully.
“A duplicate?” Riley repeated doubtfully.
“Yeah,” Ben said, looking behind it confused. “But there’s only this one page. Just the Preamble and half of the first Article.”
“What do you mean a duplicate?” Riley asked again.
“When they wrote the Constitution, they made hand-written copies of it to send to the States for ratification,” Ben explained. “Only several of them have ever been recovered. The others were said to be lost, but two have been rediscovered in the passed seventy years.”
“Why would they hide a copy of the Constitution in the back of a picture frame?” Carolyn asked.
“I don’t know,” Ben said. “And it’s just the first page. Usually whole ones have been recovered, so it seems strange that only one page would be found by itself.”
“Maybe the other pages were lost?” Riley suggested.
“Perhaps,” Ben said, though he was not buying the idea. “I think it’s something else. Something else is here with it.”
“Or it could just be a lost page to a copy of the Constitution,” Riley said.
“No, I think he’s right,” Carolyn suddenly said. Riley gave her a questionable look, but she merely looked over at portrait leaning on the hearth and pointed to its edge that faced them in disbelief. “Look.”
“What is it?” Riley asked. “I don’t see anything.”
But then, after squinting, he did. He saw little black things on the edges that looked like writing.
“Ben! Look!” Riley said, now pointing himself. As Ben turned around, Riley and Carolyn got up and went over to the portrait. All three faces hovered over the black scrawls on the edges of the old canvas. Ben started to smile as small sets of numbers arranged in neat columns caught his eye. They ran all over the entire edge of the painting with a few white gaps in between. His smile gave way to a small laugh while his friend and housekeeper couldn’t think of much to say.
“This looks familiar,” Riley said a little nervously.
Ben felt an excitement creep into his spine and pulse throughout him for a split second. His smile grew more.
“It’s another clue.”
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