Color of Blood(81)
“But I do worry.”
***
Phillip’s arrest and the search for Voorster dominated West Australian media for several days, and Dennis marveled at how American the coverage appeared: there were breathless live TV reports from outside Fremantle Jail, where Phillip was being held. Reporters swarmed the WA AFP office and interviewed Miller and several senior ACC officials in Canberra.
Dennis noted that Judy was never interviewed, nor quoted in any media. Was it her choice to avoid the media? Or was she being trumped by attention-grabbing senior officials?
Judy did not return several voicemails he left her, and for all intents and purposes, she had disappeared from his life.
He was surprised and disappointed.
And lonely.
Dennis was not used to being lonely: bored perhaps, and even depressed, but not lonely. Lonely meant you missed being with someone you cared for. It meant you wished you could share something with another valued person. Even on the numerous lengthy trips he had taken for the Agency, he had not been lonely, just bored.
But his wife Martha had been lonely.
And now Dennis was lonely.
What a strange, unpleasant feeling, he thought.
***
“You’re taking time off?” Marty had yelled. “Time f*cking off? Are you kidding me?”
“Yes, just a few days,” Dennis said.
“That’s not acceptable, and you know that. I’m short-staffed, and we’re fighting two wars, in case you stopped paying attention to the world around you. Five marines were killed by improvised explosive devices last week in Baghdad, and a chopper full of Rangers was shot down in Afghanistan. The IG is getting peppered with requests from Congress to investigate this project and that goddamn project. You’ve been assigned back to the IG’s office, so get your ass here now. Is that clear?”
“OK, but it will take me a few days.”
“You could be back here in twenty-four hours. What’s this ‘few days’ crap? And what the hell are you doing over there, anyway? Christ, I thought Massey told you we’ve got Garder.”
“I’m just trying to recharge my batteries.”
“You were cleared to return to work, and I’m stating—I’m ordering you—to get back to the office within two days.”
“Five days,” Dennis said.
“Two days,” Marty yelled.
“Five days,” Dennis said. “Please?”
“Christ! Three days,” Marty said. “I’m putting it in your file right now. Thirty-six hours from right now you should be sitting in your office down the hall. Is that clear?”
“Sure.”
“I’d like you to say ‘yes.’”
“Sure. Yes.”
***
The car was a Toyota LandCruiser equipped with a large metal grille attached to the front. The rental agent called it a “roo bar,” and insisted Dennis rent it if he was going to drive deep into the interior of WA.
“You hit a big red doing one hundred twenty kilometers per hour at night without protection, and you’ll kill the roo, the car, and yourself.”
Dennis gave the rental agent a credit card with the name Dennis Smith embossed on it.
The supplies involved several large water containers, a five-gallon tank of petrol, a survival kit that he prayed he would never open, and some snack food. Dennis had thought of camping out to keep his credit card out of circulation but read too many stories of missing tourists, their bodies found months later, desiccated and picked over by dingoes. Besides, he hadn’t camped out since he was a Boy Scout.
His big problem for this trip was not when, or how, but where?
And of course, why?
He could hear Dr. Forrester’s voice and her insistent tone: “Think, Dennis. Why are you doing that? What are you trying to prove? That you’re not a good person? That you deserve to be punished? You don’t deserve this, so stop putting yourself in circumstances where you are certain to receive punishment.”
Dennis had thought a lot about it and had come to the conclusion that it had nothing to do with punishment or self-loathing.
***
He was not easily startled, but he flinched when he heard a voice from several feet behind him as he closed the trunk of the vehicle. He half-expected Massey to have ordered an intervention team to force him back to the States.
“What are you doing?” she said.
“Oh, hi, Judy.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m getting ready for a trip.”
“A trip where?”
“Up north.”
“Up north where?”
He squinted at her in the sunlight.
“Just up north.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t return your calls,” she said. “It’s been chaotic. And with Simon back in school, I had to talk with him and the headmaster. Exhausting. He needs a lot of support at school right now.”
“How’s Simon doing?”
“All right, I suppose. Kind of a shock to see your father on the telly being arrested.”
They grew silent.
“Can we talk?” she said. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”
“Sure,” he said.
They made small talk as they entered the hotel and found the coffee shop. He carried the two flat whites to the table and sat down. Judy kept shifting in her seat. Dennis tried to concentrate on his coffee and avoid looking at her face. He had kissed her mouth many times during their nights together, and the memory both excited and hurt him, now that she was calling it off.