| UC: Donovan Haunted Weekend By LMVT |
| Salem, Massachusetts Marisca grabbed the cell phone out of Frank’s hand and tried using it only to find it dead. Then she looked at the digital display that still had the two-word message on it. “Help me? What does that mean? Who needs help?” she stated handing the phone back to Donovan who tried it. “Don’t bother it’s dead!” “Interesting, but I’m definitely not amused. Grab the bottle of champagne and let’s look around”, he stated walking towards the staircase holding one of the candles from their dining table that he lit. The started up the large wood spiral staircase passing the bottle taking swigs of the cold wine searching all the rooms slowly making their way up to the Widow’s Walk they had looked at before with the guide. The door to the walk was open, much to their surprise, so they went outside to look around and try to think of someway to get out as the windows on the other levels were made of leaded glass and Frank could not break one. Both had been in tighter spots than this so it was just an inconvenience. “It’s not that far down. You can climb can’t you?” asked Donovan knowing CIA and KGB usually had that training as he did. “You mean go down? Sure, it’s only four-stories. What should we use as a rope?” Marisca questioned taking some more champagne and passing him the bottle as they looked down to the ground. “Bed sheets. There’s enough in the house to get us down safely”, he answered as he paced back inside and down the stairs. “Would you hurry up, I want to get the f…. out of here.” “Ok! This isn’t so bad. It’s actually kind of fun being stuck in a haunted house”, she laughed as she got behind Frank who went in to the first bedroom on the third floor. “Yeah, it’s fun now because we have a way out. Are you sure there isn’t someone after you in Salem?” Frank inquired as they took the sheets off the poster bed. “That’s a possibility but what about you? You must have all kinds of nasty people trying to hunt you down. Or are you so blasé you think no one’s ever going to do that?” she asked smiling at him. “Oh, there’s plenty that want me dead. Maybe I’ll tell you about them someday” he said throwing her the proverbial bone to get her interested. “There’s one that’s been after me for years.” “That’s the story of my life! You’re the only one I found interesting. Was it this guy this that made you disappear for six months?” She had been dying to ask him and from the look on his face she knew she was not going to get an answer. “Where did you here about that? That’s personal!” he stated adamantly looking at her. “Sorry, I overheard that Alex and Jake talking about it. You’re so busy trying to help them through their problems you don’t see they’re trying to find out about yours” she said crossing over the line a bit. Frank was angered by that comment but it was true. He was spending so much time playing psychologist to Alex and Jake who had numerous problems with their personal and professional lives. It was natural for them to be curious but not so that Marisca was able to overhear it in a bugged conversation and for her now to inquire. It was a part of his life that was private and not open for debate. “Stay here and tighten those knots. I’ll go get more sheets”, he said calmly but she knew he was teed off. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry” Marisca said as he left and he shrugged his shoulders as if to say “whatever.” He went down to the second level and made his way to the Captain’s bedroom with candle in hand and stopped dead in his tracks when he entered the large room. Sitting on the bed was a woman dressed in a white nightgown and long brown hair with a painful expression on her face as she looked up finally at Frank. It startled him not only because she was there but also because she was transparent, an apparition that now tested his belief in ghosts. She is there all right he said to himself, right in front of me. Do I say something? What do I do? He asked in his mind, trying to move but immobilized not in fear but in shock. “Vanius!” he dared to shout but the ghost did not move as he heard Marisca’s footsteps come quickly down the spiral stairs. “What is it?” she asked quickly not liking the tone of his voice when he called her. She saw him standing at the entrance of the room and came up behind and looked over his shoulder. “My God! That’s got to be Eliza Tilton. Oh my God! I can’t believe this! I can’t believe this!” “You’ve already said that. Believe it”, he said as they looked at the woman who was getting up and walking towards them. They stood there watching her come closer to them and they moved back to allow her to go through the door. Marisca was not out of her range and the ghost’s left arm passed through her human body and she could feel the woman’s energy. Eliza made her way to the stairs and Frank and Marisca followed her. “Do you think she knows we’re here?” Marisca whispered as she stood behind Frank holding on to his waist as they started down the stairs. “Yeah, she looked right at me” he answered. “I want to see where she goes. You’ve got a pretty good grip on me” he laughed slightly as she held on to him. “You’re not a scared-e cat are you?” “Of course not” she replied but still holding on to him. “I didn’t think so”, he laughed back as they finally got to the bottom of the spiral case with the ghost still in front of them. They walked slowly towards the front door and all of a sudden it flew open and Frank and Marisca could see Robert Cahill standing out front on the patio. He stood there smiling as the ghost of Eliza strolled outside with the couple closely in her wake. Then he backed up down the small flight of stairs and continued to observe the apparition who now passed him. “You’ve brought her out!” he said excited to the man and woman he knew as the Foster’s. “I’ve been waiting all year hoping she’d show herself! Come on!” “What’s going on Cahill?” asked Donovan as they walked towards the back of the house. “I’ll tell you after” he now whispered wanting to get closer to Eliza who was making her way towards the cliff. The three inched their way up, now just two or three footsteps from the ghost who paid no attention to them. She walked gracefully as if floating on the ground even though they could see her feet touching it. Her face was not in pain as it was when she had looked at Frank, but happy and she had her right hand extended to her side as if she were holding someone else’s. Then she turned her head to the right and her mouth started moving, talking but with no sound and she was smiling and laughing in her silent conversation. Frank looked at the ghost trying to read her lips, making out two phrases only. “I miss you” and “I love you.” Then Eliza stopped at the point where he was told she jumped and the vision turned again to the right with a look of panic, flinging her arms up and mouthing, “Help me. Help me. Help me.” She disappeared leaving the three witnesses who looked at one another trying to come up with some theories as to what they had just experienced. “Well, obviously she was pushed” Marisca stated looking over the cliff at the turbulent water which shown in the full moon. “She was walking hand in hand with someone.” “Yeah, and very happy coming up to where I’m standing, then panic and hers arms waving around. And did you notice her lips said ‘help me’ three times?” Donovan inquired as he stood next to Marisca. “I also think she said ‘I love you’ before” Marisca stated and Frank nodded. “Yeah, ‘I love you’ and ‘I miss you’. Did you say her husband was lost at sea?” he asked Cahill. “It was reported his ship went down but of course bodies were never found. I’ve been waiting since I was a kid to put this puzzle together. Tonight is the furthest the ghost as gone. Up here to the cliff” Cahill exclaimed. “Why don’t you tell us what’s going on” remarked Donovan. “When I was sixteen I got a job as a tour guide here and on this same day, or night of October twenty-seventh the ghost appeared to me. I saw her in the bedroom, sitting on the bed and she looked up at me then disappeared. I was just there that one night because it was the weekend and after that I’d sneak out and come every night and some nights she’d appear but still seated on the bed. It was only the following year on this date that I saw her and she got up and walked to the bedroom door. The next year and the next proved the same and only on this date did she move” he exclaimed. “I’ve been coming every year but ten years ago she didn’t come to me so the next year I had my Nephew, the one you met tonight, go in to the house while I waited outside. She locked the doors that night and blew out the candles, then appeared before him and walked a bit further that night. The next year she didn’t come out for him and by that time we started the tour company. The next year we started having special tours like what you had, with dinner and always at midnight the doors would lock and she’d appear.” “So you kind of enlisted us to help you out tonight?” questioned Marisca. “So to speak. No one had booked the tour for this night and I was getting desperate to see if Eliza would finally tell me what happened to her. I knew I was getting close and when you were at the restaurant, I took a chance that you’d be interested. I hope you didn’t mind?” the man asked quite humbly they thought. “No harm done” said Frank. “I think you’ve got part of the mystery solved tonight. It’s obvious she was murdered. Who did it? That’s back in your ballpark now, but I’m glad I had this experience. It’s the frosting on the cake so to speak for our Halloween weekend in Salem.” “I’ll take you back to the village and I can’t thank you enough. Eliza obviously felt your presence was trustworthy enough for her to show us so much tonight” Cahill spoke as they started back towards the house. “Why don’t you try your cell again?” suggested Marisca and Frank took it out and activated it and it was back to normal but the digital message was gone now. “I forgot to mention one thing Cahill. My cell phone had a message on its display when we were in the house before the ghost appeared. It read out ‘help me’ three times like when she was standing at the cliff”, stated Donovan. “Just out of curiosity, did anything like that happen to the other couples?” “No! She actually reached out to you on your phone? That’s unbelievable!” Cahill replied as they approached his Range Rover. “Eliza has moved objects now and again during the daytime when tour groups are here but never actually trying to communicate. I wonder what is was about you two that made her do that?” “Maybe it’s our great auras!” laughed Marisca thinking about what Angelica said and the man looked at her. “That could be. How do you know about that?” he asked as they got in the vehicle. “A woman named Angelica read them today. Marisca and I are compatible more so than the rest she’s seen”, replied Donovan. “If you believe in that stuff.” “I thought you’re name was Martha?” he asked Marisca who smiled. “Well, I guess the gigs up. We were just fooling around this weekend, pretending to be other people. Kind of a sexual fantasy game” she stated as it really was when you analyzed it. “I’m Marisca Vanius and this is Frank Donovan. He’s an Agent with the Justice Department and I’m a master thief.” “Another game” laughed Frank not believing she said the last part. “But those are our real names.” “I guess I’ve always wanted to pretend I’m someone else at times. I just haven’t got the nerve”, the man said as they took off from the large house. “Anyway, it’s only one-thirty. Would you like to go to the big Halloween party at the Hawthorne Hotel? It’ll be going all night.” “We might as well make the most of the weekend”, Frank said to Marisca who nodded her agreement. “Sure, let’s head over and check it out. We were there for drinks before this excursion and it looked interesting.” They got back in to the village half an hour later and the streets around the hotel were packed with people in costumes. Cahill told the couple that on Halloween all the village streets were like this, like Mardi- Gras but in October. He let Frank and Marisca off while he went to park and they made their way in to the hotel, which was just one big party now. “Do you want one of those Ghostbuster’s?” Frank shouted and she nodded as they stood by the bar to order. They got their drinks and walked around seeing only a few people without costumes as they were. There were a lot of Cleopatra’s, vampires, witches and aliens and at one point they were given small cards to pass to their favorite costumed person that said they were nominated for many of the prizes that night. Marisca and Frank circulated, joined now by Cahill, looking for what they thought were the best characters. Marisca finally gave her nomination to a very fat, young man about six foot four, dressed as a drag queen called Hubba Bubba. His gown was pink latex which made his stomach look like he was pregnant and he had a red wig and very nicely put makeup on. Marisca talked to him for along time and liked his personality and attitude much like her hairdresser in New York. It was obvious the man was very comfortable dressed as a woman and she thought he was very convincing. Donovan took off with Cahill while Marisca went to talk with another group, finding a man dressed as a headless professor in a white lab coat carrying a very funky looking head. He spoke through the opening he made in his jacket to Frank and thanked him for the nomination. Much to their surprise an hour later Hubba Bubba won one prize, the Professor another and the Grand Prize for creativity went to a seven foot alien with a large oval, silver head. By four in the morning Cahill had long gone and Marisca and Frank decided to walk back to their Inn to get some fresh air and hopefully see some more decorations along the way. “You know the only thing that bothers me about tonight is that we’re just walking away from this ghost thing” she said as they strolled hand in hand back down Derby Street. “I don’t follow you. Oh! You mean you think we should try to find out who killed her?” Donovan asked. “I personally think her sea captain husband wasn’t dead and he came after her. I guess we should look in to it.” “Yeah, that’s what I think because of what she said. You know ‘I love you’ and ‘I miss you’, those would have been things she said to her husband. Is there anyway you can find out about his shipwreck?” she asked. “I’ll do some research when I get home. Look in to the Maritime records in Washington for those years and see what I can come up with. I did have the impression she was reaching out to me” he exclaimed. “She’s probably just been hanging around all this time hoping someone will find out she didn’t commit suicide. You know, to clear her name and set the records straight.” “I’ll bet you didn’t think you’d be solving crimes in the past too?” she laughed as they looked at the houses, some of which still had their lights on. “This has been a nice weekend Frank. I’m glad we got a chance to get away.” “It’s been great. I always feel like I have to have my guard up, especially at work. It’s been nice to relax and have some fun”, he said. “And also get away from that cat and mouse thing we do.” “But that’s fun too! You like it, I know you do!” she laughed squeezing his hand. “It’s more fun now because we both know we’re not going to kill each other.” “When you put it that way, I guess you’re right!” he chuckled. “So what’s your next job? So I can prepare myself.” “Oh, I’ve already given you a hint and I think you know” she answered coyly knowing she had mentioned the Chinese Triad to him in passing making a diversion from her undercover assignment in the Middle East. “What’s your next job?” “You’ll read about it in the papers like you did my last one” he said slyly remembering she had used that as an explanation where she got her information. “Now that we’re talking about jobs and things, what are you going to do with that fifty million?” “I know you looked at my palm pilot on the plane. Anyway, I’ve decided to send it to the relief effort for the Twin Towers. Use the dirty money for some good. I’ve got enough and I just took it because I could”, she stated. “I’m not interested in money perse, it’s just the harder the game the larger the reward.” “You’re not in to money? Give me a break! But I do know you love those impossible to win challenges like I do” Frank admitted. They finally reached The Salem Inn an hour later having taken their time. A young night clerk was on duty when they walked through the main building ignoring them as he watched his portable television. Frank and Marisca got to their room to find the fireplace going making it toasty warm for what remained of the night with sunrise in an hour. Marisca kicked off her shoes as they were bothering her again then went in to the bedroom to start undressing with Frank right behind. Both were tired and agreed to get some sleep until they were face- to- face lying on their pillows and desire took hold. They were too young they finally realized to have sleep get in the way. Only this night Frank and Marisca made love to each other very slowly, relishing every sweet moment until nine in the morning when tray service came. “You can’t fit in this tub Donovan!” Marisca shouted as she sat in the hot water watching him make his approach. “Just bend your legs more. We don’t have time for two baths if we’re going to make that place by ten. Remember you have to turn your watch back too, with the time change” he retorted trying to get in the small bathtub facing her. “There! That’s ok!” “I love your long legs but this is ridiculous” she laughed looking down through the clear water. “Are you always hard?” “What do you expect when I’m looking at you naked? Well, I guess you don’t really need to be naked” he smiled and she threw the washcloth at him. “Hey! At least hand me the soap.” After bathing Frank put his gray turtleneck he wore on Friday back on over his gray cords with Marisca donning an orange sweater with her gray skirt and boots as her other shoes were too uncomfortable for a second day of walking. By quarter until ten they were out their suite door and headed for the rental car to take them to The House of Seven Gables the historic site where Nathaniel Hawthorne had lived. It was fifteen minutes outside of the village and they made it in time, after a slight detour, for the tour that was at half passed the hour. Both were amazed at how many homes were supposedly haunted and now having experienced an actual ghost they believed every thing they had been told that weekend. Including the ghost of the woman that owned the house with the seven gables, which was the roof style popular back then, making this house unusual because of the number of them. She had been a relative of Hawthorne, the famous author, and she took he and his mother and sister in after his Father had died. He was another sea captain as they were prevalent in that particular seaport which was one of the most famous during that time. The woman lived, unmarried until her death when she was seventy-two and her ghost walks to this day because of her attachment to the house so the guide said. “Did you ever read the Scarlet Letter?” Marisca asked after the tour as they were looking around. Frank gave her a funny look. “You’re joking? I went to Dartmouth. Remember? Every red- blooded person in this state has read Hawthorne. I didn’t like it though” he replied. “The Puritan ethic. It was a ridiculous time in our great country, then the witch trials. Think of it! Just because some young girls get mad at a few others they start hanging people. By the time the Magistrates disbanded the witch courts they had already hung nineteen innocent people.” “I thought it was twenty. Well, anyway, it wasn’t that simple. There was a lot of social unrest and back then they were so naïve and into being super Christians that everything that wasn’t was because of the devil. But I agree with you, that wasn’t our history’s finest moment” Marisca said seriously as they got to the House of Spirits another part of the attraction. “I didn’t particularly like that book either, but I did like the one about Sleepy Hollow. That was written by him wasn’t it?” “Yeah, I liked that one better but it was written by Washington Irving. What’s this suppose to be?” he asked as they got to the entrance of the House of Spirits and they walked in behind a rather large group. It was a gathering of various types of vendors from palm readers, tarot card readers, tealeaf readers and even aura readers. Frank and Marisca made a quick tour, not wanting to miss anything, but not that interested and as they had to make it for their noon reservation for brunch they left after ten minutes. They arrived in time to be seated by the same Maitre de from the night before at the Derby Fish and Lobster restaurant with Frank remembering to use his fictitious name again. The Sunday brunch was buffet style and they loaded their plates with all the various types of fish and seafood that were locally caught along side their eggs to give the meal some resemblance to breakfast. Marisca had shared enough meals with Frank to observe he had a real appreciation for good cuisine and noticed he often commented on its preparation and they way it was displayed. He was doing the same thing now as he took a taste of his Lobster Newburg asking the waiter what the unusual flavor was. “I’ll bet anything you’re a good cook”, she stated and he beamed his wide, white, toothy smile. “I’m a great cook! How did you figure that out?” he asked putting his spoon down and taking a sip of Sauvignon Blanc. “You just seem so in to your food. I like to cook too! We should make a meal sometime together” Marisca remarked. “What’s your specialty Frank?” “I make a mean Beef Wellington. I decided when I had my first apartment that I wasn’t going to just eat fast foods and take-out, so I taught myself how to cook. I find it relaxing, knocking around with some wine and my kitchen has windows that look out at Lake Michigan”, he reflected and she could see he was even more relaxed talking about it. “Just a thought. I know I said it was too early to plan for Thanksgiving. But why don’t I come visit you in Chicago and we can make dinner together?” Marisca suggested. “I’d like to see your place.” “Yeah, I think you’ll like it. There’s no Macy’s Parade but I’ve heard Chicago has great after Thanksgiving shopping” he said. “It’s date! But you have to come on Wednesday. Whenever I make a turkey I cook it overnight, so we have to make the stuffing in the evening.” “Is that some kind of ritual of yours?” she laughed as she had her own from childhood when she helped her Aunt make the meal. “My Mother’s ritual that I tweaked a bit through the years. But I love to wake up in the morning and smell the turkey in the oven. There’s nothing to describe it” he smiled. “But, of course we’ll prepare some of your favorites too.” “Of course!” she laughed knowing he was going to be one of those “take over everything” chefs like he was in other parts of his life. He’d let her cut the bread and celery and maybe crack the eggs, but that would be about it but that was ok. She’d just sit with some wine and watch him, as there was nothing more appealing to her than a man that could cook. They both enjoyed good wine too and there, Frank, again, was more knowledgeable with very defined tastes. They polished off the white wine he chose for the mainly seafood Brunch and left deciding to go see the Salem Witch Museum that was across the street that was a “must see.” They wandered through the small two-story building that housed artifacts and documents from that short period which only consisted of three or four months. In one of the larger rooms there was a reenactment of the pre-trial of the first woman accused of being a witch referred to as “Goody Brigitte” who apparently was not that good as she was a whore. “What does Goody mean?” Marisca asked at one point to Donovan. “They use to use it for women back then. It just means worthy or virtuous but I don’t know how it started. Just one of those Puritan words” he explained thinking about her having gone to Yale and that she did not know everything. “I can find out if you want.” “I’d be interested. Thanks” she replied but there was not one person in the museum on staff that could explain its origins when asked, so Frank said he would look it up on the Internet when he had a chance. The sky was looking a bit overcast by three and Marisca used Frank’s cellular as she had left hers again in their room, her logic being out of sight and out of mind and no way to reach her even in an emergency. Donovan was different even though he did turn his cell off he still checked for messages every couple of hours. Right now as they headed towards to Salem Commons to look around at the Sunday activities, Marisca was worried about the weather. She called the air traffic control center for pilots at Logan International to get an update on what to expect that night weather-wise, ending the conversation quickly not liking what she was told. “There’s heavy fog expected tonight. We should think about leaving earlier. I know you have to be in the office tomorrow morning and I have an appointment I can’t miss” she stated knowing their jobs were just too important to be late even an hour. That was something she knew Frank was trying to impress upon his team as he had made several off the cuff comments about it. “Well, it’s three-thirty now. We need to wait a few hours after drinking that wine. I’d say seven’s ok” he remarked. “We can have dinner in Chicago then you can stay over at my place for the night. I’ll take you to Ditka’s, I need some beef after all that seafood we’ve had.” “That’s owned by Mike Ditka isn’t it? I’ve heard that place is great and some Prime Rib sounds good to me. But I do have to fly out tonight if the weather’s clear enough” she replied looking at his big, brown eyes enjoying the thought of another night together. “If it isn’t, I’d love to stay over.” The Commons was packed again with costumed people and pets not very different from the day before but still making it a fun afternoon. Black coffee and plenty of it was on their agenda also, so their final stop before going back to the Inn was The Hawthorne Hotel and the small café they had. And after several cups and pieces of pumpkin pie they strolled back towards Derby Street then on to Summer Street where the Salem Inn was both thinking they would come back the next year at this time. Maybe see if Eliza Tilton’s ghost was still at the house and this time getting costumes to wear like everyone else. These were wonderful wishes but both knew the likelihood of coming back to Salem, together in another year filled with violence and uncertainty was slim to none. They checked out and thanked the Pabich’s complimenting them on the quality of their Inn and the comfort of their stay there. By seven they were back at the car rental leaving the Altima and catching a ride on their small bus to the terminal. Security seemed heavier for some reason as they walked to the exit taking then out to the private part of the airfield. Frank showed his badge this time as they were in more of a hurry to get in to the air to avoid the fog that was rolling in at that time. “I’ll take the controls again”, Donovan stated as they got in the small cabin, taking their jackets off and throwing them to the side. “Can you get me a Diet Coke?” He asked as he went up to the cockpit and sat down starting his systems check. Marisca closed and secured the automatic hatch then went to the galley to get them both Diet Cokes, as she had to fly later that night. By the time she was sitting next to Frank he had the jets on to full power in what she thought was remarkably fast. Marisca watched him expertly maneuver the Lear again getting them off the ground after clearance for take-off, and up to twenty-five thousand feet well above the clouds. She had asked him about flying a Stealth Bomber having run through many scenarios of what she could do herself against Afghanistan and the Taliban. Marisca had a few missions in that country when she was connected with Soviet intelligence and she saw the beginning of the atrocities the Taliban did to women when they took over. She was now thinking as most people did on Sunday night about work on Monday but her and Frank’s work was more novel. Marisca wanted to do something and knew how CIA operatives thought and she knew everyone of them was running through similar scenarios. What could they do if they had the money and the resources? She had both and one of her many scenarios included a Stealth, but it was a two-man bomber and she would need someone she could trust to be a co-pilot. That someone was Donovan. Marisca shook her head as it was too far out a plan and the Agency would never approve and she would be marked a renegade if she went against orders. But when did anything like orders ever stop her? She asked herself now. This was just too crazy, but she turned to Frank anyway, and asked again. “You never answered me before about the Stealth. Can you fly one?” She must have looked at him very seriously she said to herself after, because he answered her this time. “Yes, I can fly a Stealth Bomber” he stated feeling like he had just volunteered his services for something in the future. Frank was beginning to understand her more and her life was more on an international level than his was currently. The only reason she would ask about flying a bomber, and one untraceable on radar, was for some mission he had joked about going on before. He too had gone through scenarios in his mind about going after the Taliban but he did not have the money Marisca had, only the resources. There was so much red tape to go through to get any job done, even the smallest, that something of this nature would require going against Government policies. They would be marked by their agencies unless of course they were successful. But successful doing what? He asked himself knowing she did not have the capability to find Bin Laden as no one had so far. There must be another target she had in mind and one worth going after to risk everything he said to himself, looking over at her as she drank her Coke. Frank said nothing further to encourage her line of questioning and quickly changed the subject. He would just let it lay and wait and see if she ever approached him further on the matter. “Remember what I told you. I don’t want you with other men” he said to her, making her lock on to his steely eyes. “Not that again! I told you I understood the first time! After all, I am your Bitch in more ways than I know” she laughed and he joined in. “I forgot you had me bugged back in Charleston” he replied remembering he had said that after reading her note about Nogales. “Bitch? I thought you were from Dartmouth, not the Hood” she joked as she reached over and touched his hardness. “I like this, so I’ll be whatever you want to call me. But what does ‘in more ways than you know’ mean?” She decided at that time not to mention the fact she liked him a lot, as that was too personal for right now. “You’ll have to just stick around and find out” he exclaimed. “Now keep your lovely hand to yourself before I get out of control and crash this plane.” Marisca gave him a quick and hard grab before she retracted her hand and that sent him over the edge. “Take the controls would you? I’ll be back in a minute”, he stated taking off his headgear and getting up after she took over. Frank went to the bathroom to relieve himself and work on his very hard problem. Marsica smiled to herself knowing she could get to him as easily as he got to her. Then she thought about the briefs he had put on that morning and how they were European style with no fly front. It was the silliest of things to think about she said to herself, but he had obviously been overseas at some point to buy them. Perhaps he was there during his mysterious six months Marisca reflected. The briefs had to have been purchased recently as they were not worn out and Frank would not have bought them years ago and just kept them. No man would pack a pair of uncomfortable briefs on a weekend trip unless all his others were in the laundry. Donovan was too much a fanatic about things to let dirty clothes accumulate. And it was this silly thing that made her now become more interested in what he did do during that time. It was noticing these silly things that made her so good at what she did. “Are you ok?” she asked when he came back and sat down. “What do you think?” he replied putting the headset back on and calling flight control as they were less than an hour east of O’Hare. “Tell them I need to be refueled”, she said and he glanced over to her, looking at her erotically. “I’ll refuel you myself when I get a chance” he stated glancing over to her erotically, then started to talk to ground control. The weather was cold and clear at nine-thirty when they landed, Chicago time. Marisca only had layover clearance until midnight so Frank tempered his urge to fling her on the bed in the back. They were both hungry by this time and with her long flight back that evening he thought it was more important for her to eat something and just a quickie was not going to settle anything for him. His Jeep Cherokee was waiting where he had left it and Marisca always enjoyed the novelty of riding in a car that was something other than a taxicab or her Rolls Royce Continental. It was a lot colder in Chicago than Salem and the wind was blowing so hard Frank had a difficult time keeping it steady. Marisca had not been in that city for a while but she always loved the skyline and how the Sears Tower and the Prudential Building shot up above the other skyscrapers. “Where’s Ditka’s, Frank?” she asked as he drove down the Eisenhower Expressway in to the city. “It’s in the Loop” he replied. The area surrounded by the “L”, which was an overhead commuter system, which formed a loop. “We’ll just have a little over an hour to eat, to get you back before midnight.” “A few minutes late won’t matter. They won’t move the plane. I’ll just get fined” she stated then realized he no doubt knew that being a pilot himself. “Maybe we can go to the Water Tower the day after Thanksgiving. I’d like to have lunch at Marshall Field’s.” “When were you there? I haven’t even had a chance to see that place except passing by it”, he stated about the high- rise complex of shops, departments stores, restaurants and movies on Lake Shore Drive. “Here’s Ditka’s” he continued seeing the sign down the block. “A few years ago. I met someone at the Tea Room at Field’s for lunch. I really like it and I like the Water Tower but I didn’t have time to look around” she replied. Frank quickly thought back again to her file from the CIA which stated clearly she had not been in the States up to the time she did her job at Nasdaq. He thought again about that disinformation and he knew Marisca knew what was in that file. Yet, here she was telling him again in her admission of being in Chicago that that file was a work of fiction. This weekend for some reason she was allowing him bit by bit to come closer to her true identity, he knew that, as she was just too skilled to make slips of the tongue. And this was keeping him very interested in her as no other woman had in his life. “Hello Mr. Donovan” said the valet after opening the door when Frank finally pulled up in front of Ditka’s. “Hi John. Is it busy tonight? We don’t have reservations” Donovan replied as he got out and the other valet helped Marisca. “No, not tonight Sir. I’ll park it close as usual” John exclaimed and Frank nodded taking Marisca’s arm to escort her in to the place. The valet opened the large door and they walked in and Marisca was very surprised at how elegant it was thinking it would be somewhat rougher as was Mike Ditka. But the restaurant was wall- to- wall Cherry wood as were the floors as they walked up a staircase that took them in to the dining areas. The upper area was divided in two sections with one set up higher with a bar and lounge, the lower area was covered with all sizes of tables covered with white linen, china and crystal. The maitre de greeted Frank by name also and sat them at a lovely table for two off to the side for privacy. They looked at their menus deciding quickly when the waiter came, again knowing Frank. “I’ll have the petit Prime Rib, medium, a baked potato with sour cream on the side and a Caesar Salad to start. Oh! I’ll have a Perrier too”, she ordered. “Bring that right away please.” “You can bring me a Heineken with her drink. Then I’ll have the ribs and fries”, he stated taking Marisca’s menu and handing them to the waiter. “You obviously come here often” she smiled sitting back to relax. “It’s a beautiful restaurant. I just thought it would be different.” “I’m usually here once a week. I don’t eat much red meat so when I’m in the mood it’s easier to just get it here. I like to eat out” he exclaimed. “When I’m in town I’ll cook at home maybe three or four nights. It varies with my hours.” “I’m the same way. Have you ever brought a date here?” she asked for some reason and very much out of the blue. “Why do you want to know?” he answered smiling to himself at this first inquiry of hers about other women in his life. She clicked her tongue. “Jesus, after the speech about me not sleeping around. I just wanted to know if you ever brought a date here” Marisca retorted. “What’s wrong with me asking that?” “Because I can’t answer the way you want me to”, he laughed repeating her line to him that she used on the plane going to Salem. Marisca picked up her napkin and threw it at him laughing. “You’ve got me on that one! Forget I ever asked”, she said. “But now that I’ve brought the subject up I don’t want you screwing around except with me. Is that clear?” “Perfectly” he laughed handing her the napkin back as their drinks were served. Frank took his cellular out again and checked for messages and there were none at ten-thirty. Marisca’s salad came and she ate part of it putting it to the side when her entrée arrived. Frank tried to make less of a mess as he consumed the barbequed ribs with the sauce getting all over his fingers and mouth. Marisca had a hard time keeping her eyes off of him as he licked his long fingers and his full lips and at one point she dabbed her napkin in some water, reaching over the table to help him. He was mesmerizing and she ended up concentrating more on him than on her food and by the time they were about to leave an hour later she had to ask for a doggie bag to finish it on the plane. Frank paid the bill and once again took his cellular out but this time there was an urgent message to call Cody. “Excuse me. I need to make a call”, he said waiting for her and she took the hint. “I’ll meet you by the door” she stated getting up and leaving quickly and he nodded then speed dialed Cody. “This is Donovan” he stated when Cody answered after the first ring. “What’s up?” “They hit the Smithsonian forty-five minutes ago. They got the Hope Diamond and some other gems”, Cody said. “The plane will be at Midway in half an hour.” It was a closer airport to their headquarters than O’Hare. “Get Monica and Alex. I’ll meet you there. Get your report together Cody. I want to know about their surveillance and what went wrong” he said then ended the conversation and got up a bit frustrated that he had to cut the evening shorter. He made his way down the stairs to find Marisca standing by the door and when he approached, the valet opened it after seeing him through its window. “John, can you hail a taxi for the Lady? And get my car right away” he stated turning to Marisca who assumed it was working that was pulling him away. “I have to go Marisca.” “That’s ok Frank”, she stated and he grabbed her for a long, goodbye kiss making the abrupt separation more palatable for both of them. “I’ll call you”, he said as he always did when they said goodbye and she knew he meant it. The problem was each other’s schedules and when she would talk to him next was anyone’s guess. “Take her to O’Hare” he said to the cabbie handing him enough money for the fare as she got in the back. He hit the top of the cab telling the driver to take off and watched as she turned around to give him a final look through the rear window. “Is that Mrs. Donovan?” asked John as they waited for his car the other valet was getting. He was curious who the woman was not having seen Frank with anyone before. Donovan did not answer John until his car came up and stopped, thinking about what she really was to him and what to call her. His wife? No. A girlfriend? Maybe in high school he thought. A friend? That did not say enough. A Lover? Yes, a very good one but too Euro sounding. His Bitch? Yeah, too Hood and a moment later he answered. “Mrs. Donovan? No, but she’s definitely my Woman!” he laughed as he got in to his car. THE END (back to work) ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Halloween Page |