Washington Spies: A Historical Espionage Thriller Page 5

  She decided since the note could be worrisome, she wouldn’t think about it. Without knowing the sender or what the message meant, it was of little use to her.

  Over dinner, Phyllis finally struck up the courage to tell Joe what was happening. Well, a semblance of the truth.

  “You’ve cooked all this week, honey. Let me make my world-famous spaghetti tomorrow.”

  She had to smile. “Spaghetti is all you can cook, Joe.”

  “Yes, but it’s known among our friends for that sauce I create.”

  “You do use some extraordinary ingredients.” She bit her lip to suppress a laugh. “But mint and coconut? They, ah, don’t seem to belong in tomato sauce.”

  Joe blushed. “Okay. The coconut didn’t work out, but the mint gave the sauce a unique flavor.”

  “That much is true.”

  “So, I’ll cook tomorrow.”

  Now seemed to be the time to tell him.

  “You’re going to be doing a lot of your own cooking for a while, honey.”

  The fork he raised to his mouth stopped. His wary eyes slid to hers. He put down the fork.

  “Tell me.”

  Phyllis took a deep breath. “I’m being sent to Oak Ridge, Tennessee soon.”

  “Oak Ridge?”

  She nodded. “That’s right.”

  “For the agency?”

  “Yes.”

  “To do what?”

  “Secretarial work.”

  She could read it in his eyes that he didn’t buy her explanation.

  “Where precisely will you be posted?”

  “The Oak Ridge National Laboratory.”

  His eyebrows inched toward his hairline.

  “The nuclear facility?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where scientists are conducting nuclear experiments?”

  “Among other things.”

  He looked at her carefully. “And your expertise as a secretary is crucially needed at this time and in another state?”

  “Apparently so.”

  “When did all this happen?”

  “Last week.”

  “Last week,” he repeated. She knew he was wondering why she was only mentioning it now. “Is it a permanent assignment?”

  “No. It’s only for a month.”

  Joe Schneider was no dummy. She knew his brain had kicked into gear. He knew she was being assigned as an agent, and at a nuclear facility. His head was probably spinning with the possibilities of what she might really be doing.

  But he didn’t ask.

  “So, when do you leave?”

  “In a few weeks.”

  Finally, he smiled. “Well, I guess I better learn to make something other than spaghetti.”

  Phyllis smiled back at him. So much was unsaid. So much had to be left unsaid. She really couldn’t be married to anyone other than another spy. Her marriage could have ended here and now, had Joe not tacitly understood what she was saying…what she wasn’t saying. Maybe one day she could tell him.

  Dinner progressed with no further discussion about her transfer to Tennessee. Joe accepted her feeble explanation and continued to eat as if nothing was bothering him. He stole several glances at her plate, however. Picking up their plates to wash, he asked the question.

  “You hardly touched your supper. You didn’t like the stroganoff? I thought it was great.”

  Phyllis didn’t look up. She kept her head down as she cleaned off the table, stacking silverware by the plates in the sink to be washed. “No, it was fine.”

  His brows scrunched together in thought. “Why didn’t you eat much of it then?”

  She shrugged. “Guess I wasn’t too hungry.”

  Joe grabbed her hand as she started to walk away. “Phyllis? Honey? You never told me about your doctor appointment on Wednesday. Are you all right?”

  Her eyes didn’t meet his. “Yes, I’m fine.”

  “You and the stroganoff, huh?” he kidded.

  She still didn’t look at him. He tilted her chin so she had to face him.

  “I can take the secrecy about going to Oak Ridge, but you can’t keep a health secret from me. What’s going on, sweetheart?”

  Her lips quivered as she jerked her chin away. “I don’t want to get into this now.”

  His eyes widened with alarm. “Oh no, you don’t.” Joe pulled Phyllis into his arms. “You’re not getting away with this one. Spill it.”

  “Oh, Joe!” Phyllis’ eyes misted with tears that spilled down her cheeks.

  “You can’t tell me?”

  “No.”

  “Is the news that horrible?”

  “Well…”

  He wiped away her tears. “Can you write it instead?”

  She smiled at him. “You always make me feel better, don’t you?”

  “That’s my job as your husband: to make you laugh. If you can’t laugh, you can at least smile.”

  When she didn’t respond, he tried again. “Want me to get you something to write on?”

  After a pause, she nodded.

  “Okay.”

  Joe reached into a drawer to pull out a pad and a pencil. Handing them to her, he watched her carefully. She turned to scratch a few words on the pad, ripped off the small sheet and turned back to him with the paper clutched behind her.

  “Am I supposed to guess? Are we playing charades?”

  With tears still glistening, she shook her head. “This is no game, Joe.”

  “I know,” he said. “It’s life and it’s our life. Yours and mine.” He paused to watch her. “If there’s a problem with one of us, the other should know. It’s our jobs as husband and wife to help one another. No matter what.”

  “No matter what,” she whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “Promise?” She spoke so softly, he leaned forward to hear her.

  “Pardon? I can’t hear you.”

  “Do you promise?”

  He crossed his heart with an extravagant motion. “Absolutely. I would never lie to you, honey.”

  With worry in her eyes, she slowly handed the small piece of paper to him. “Here.”

  Joe looked down at the few words she had scribbled. Then he glanced up.

  “Remember your promise, Joe Schneider.”

  A wide grin split his happy face in two. The sun seemed to burst through the kitchen window enveloping Joe and Phyllis in an ethereal glow. He pulled her to him. Their eyes locked with a laser grip.

  “You’re pregnant?”

  “It would appear so.”

  “Oh, honey.” Joe kissed her sweetly, then more passionately as they clung to one another.

  “What do you think?” she asked tentatively.

  “What do I think?” He grinned, kept her close. “I think it’s the most wonderful news I’ve heard in a long time.”

  “Even at a time like this?”

  “At any time, this would be wonderful!”

  “So, you’re really happy?”

  He stroked her cheek softly. “I couldn’t be happier. You’ve made me the happiest man on the planet.”

  Her small smile was tentative. “That takes in a lot of territory.”

  “It’s worth every inch.”

  They stood in the bright kitchen, arms around each other, staring into bright eyes. She watched dreamily until something flickered on his face.

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

  “No, it’s something. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  The look he gave her was telling. He stepped back.

  “You don’t need to tell me, Phyllis, but I know the agency is sending you on assignment. We don’t talk about these things, but we both know the score.”

  Phyllis said nothing.

  “As ecstatic as I am about the baby, now I’m worried. Worried stiff. Maybe you should decline this assignment, honey.”

  “Decline?”

  “How far along are you?”

  “Just a few weeks.”

  “It’s a critical time, Phyllis. You can’t afford to do anything foolish right now.”

  “I won’t be doing anything foolish.”

  “Or dangerous.”

  Again, she said nothing.

  “Let someone else take it.”

  She stepped away from him. “Someone else? You know how long I’ve waited for an assignment, Joe! George Martin hasn’t wanted to give me anything much to do, but I got an assignment anyway! I can’t give it up. I can’t!”

  “Phyllis, another one will come along. Now isn’t the time.”

  She turned her back to him, unwilling to let him see her tears. He had no idea how much she wanted this assignment. Watching the secondhand tick on the wall clock, her stomach fluttered, reminding her of the life she carried inside. It might have been imaginary, but Phyllis suddenly realized how much she wanted this baby.

  Maybe Joe was right.

  He pulled her back to him. “Why don’t we sleep on it? Discuss it again in the morning.”

  She leaned into him, grateful for his strength. “It’s a deal. I’m wiped out.”

  Joe brought her hand up to his lips for a kiss. “Come on, Mrs. Schneider. Tonight, you’re all mine and tomorrow…”

  “Tomorrow is another day.”

  “That’s right.”

  As he led her to the bedroom, Phyllis shook the unwanted thoughts from her head.

  Tomorrow.

  She’d think about it tomorrow.

  Don’t do it.

  Phyllis awoke the next morning with the small phrase echoing in her mind. Don’t do it.It must relate to her assignment in Tennessee. Nothing else made sense.

  Joe had been called for an early emergency meeting of his department. They hadn’t been able to continue last night’s
discussion, but that was all right. Maybe it was best to let last night simmer.

  She went about her day in a light state of dread as Don’t do it was never far from her thoughts. A quick doctor appointment at lunch lulled her into a quasi-sense of security. She’d gone to see him again to allay her fears about going on assignment early in her pregnancy. Her doctor informed her that going to Tennessee for a month shouldn’t be a problem. She would be back in Washington for the second trimester. The news settled her down so she could concentrate on the task at hand.

  She reasoned she would hardly be gone at all. Major Simpson told her at the meeting this afternoon that her relocation was moved up timewise for security reasons. She was leaving in eight days now and would be at Oak Ridge for four short weeks.

  Her stomach fluttered again at the thought of leaving Joe so soon. They’d be fine.

  Joe wasn’t so sure. He didn’t say much when she told him, but his eyes gave him away. His anxiety wasn’t disguised, even for the experienced agent he was.

  That Sunday, Joe and Phyllis went to her sister’s house for dinner. Connie and Jeff Wallace, plus their two lively children, lived a few blocks away from Phyllis and Joe. A fact that seemed to work its way into every conversation.

  “I swear, Phyllis. We saw more of you when you lived in Norway than we do now.” The elfish pout on Connie’s face seemed childlike with her short pixie haircut.

  Phyllis refrained from rolling her eyes. “Can we not start this again?”

  Del Bowden, Connie and Phyllis’ father, had no such qualms. His eyes flew to the ceiling, followed by a snort aimed at Joe and Jeff.

  “They were always at it as kids. I see times haven’t changed.”

  “Well, it’s true, Dad,” insisted Connie. “They only live two blocks from here.”

  “Perhaps they have a lot going on, hon,” said Jeff. “Give them a break.”

  “What could they possibly have going on?” Connie scoffed before standing to clear the table.

  Phyllis shot a glance at Joe. She’d managed to steer the conversation away from topics she wasn’t prepared to talk about…like the pregnancy and her job in Tennessee. Joe’s return look was one of relief.

  She helped her sister with the dishes, as Joe helped Del into an armchair in the living room. The kids listened to the radio, and the music had lulled Del to sleep before Joe left the room.

  “Your dad’s asleep already,” he told Phyllis and Connie back in the kitchen.

  Connie nodded. “He tires so easily these days.”

  “Can you tell me more about his latest doctor visit?” asked Phyllis.

  “Sure.” Connie ran warm water to wash dishes. Phyllis picked up a towel to dry. Joe stood off to one side, while Jeff went to check on the kids.

  “He seems so pale.”

  “The new medications are tough on his system, the doctor told me, and he’s not tolerating them well.” Connie looked at her sister. “He’s sick a lot, so I’ve practically moved him into our guest room. I don’t want him in that big old house by himself.”

  “Seems reasonable. What can I do to help?”

  Connie reached a wet hand out to Phyllis. “You don’t understand. The cancer is getting worse.”

  Phyllis shivered with her touch and the news. “Worse? You don’t mean that he’s…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

  Joe stepped close to lay his hand on her shoulder.

  “It’s hard to tell the future, sis. We’ve got to just hang in there and keep him as comfortable as possible.”

  “Want me to bring him to our house a few days a week?”

  Connie shook her head. “He’s fine here. Too much movement isn’t good for him. His balance is shaky too.”

  “Well, what else can I do?”

  As the sisters continued to discuss how to handle their father’s health crisis, Joe and Jeff exchanged a knowing look.

  Joe cleared his throat.

  “May I make a suggestion?”

  “Sure, Joe,” said Connie. “Go ahead.”

  “All the activities you are proposing are fine, but there’s something else you can do.”

  “What’s that, honey?” asked Phyllis. She’d finished drying the final dish and laid the towel on the counter.

  “You need to make arrangements for the…future.”

  “That’s what we’re doing, aren’t we?” Connie dried her hands and looked over at Joe.

  “I don’t think Joe means those kinds of arrangements, Connie.”

  “Well, for heaven’s sake, Jeff. What other kind of arrangements could he mean?” The longer she looked at Joe, the wider her eyes became. She finally got his meaning.

  “You mean funeral arrangements.”

  “Oh, Joe. Really?” Phyllis began to wring her hands. “Must we?”

  “It’s too soon,” added Connie.

  “It’s not too soon,” said Jeff with feeling. “You girls have put this off, but while your dad is still of sound mind, you need to get his will in order. What does he want to leave to whom and all that.”

  Joe took ahold of Phyllis’ hands. “Honey, you and your sister need to do this.”

  She swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat wouldn’t go down.

  “You and Connie talk a bit more. Jeff and I will join the kids.”

  When the men left, Connie hugged her sister. “Has it come to this?”

  “Apparently so. Will Dad mind?”

  “Maybe he already has a will. I’ve never asked him.”

  “I guess we should do that.”

  “Okay.” Connie thought a minute. “Could we get together next week to decide what all to ask him?”

  “Next week?” Phyllis ran through her mental calendar. “I’m preparing for the Tennessee trip, but maybe I can squeeze this in.”

  Connie’s brows furrowed. “You’re going to Tennessee?”

  “Um, yes, for work.”

  “You’re a secretary at the State Department. What could you possibly need to go to Tennessee for?”

  Phyllis licked her lips. She wasn’t allowed to tell friends or family about working for the CIA, thus Connie’s remark about the State Department. And this was precisely why she hadn’t wanted to tell her sister too much.

  Connie’s hands flew up. “Okay, okay. Don’t tell me, but when will you be back?”

  “In a month.”

  “A month?” Her mouth dropped open. “Why in the world would you need to stay a month? Is this a promotion?”

  “Sort of.”

  “That makes no sense, Phyllis Bowden Schneider. Explain in concise terms please.”

  Phyllis shook her head. “That’s really all I can say, Connie.”

  Col. Lawrence’s words about having to explain to loved ones came back to her in a rush.

  “You’ve barely said anything.”

  Connie looked hard at her sister. “I know you haven’t always told me the complete story about what you do, sis. Dad told me not to ask many questions. Does he know more than I do about the jobs you’ve had?”

  Phyllis considered her sister’s question. “I think he’s a better guesser than you are, Connie. That’s all.”

  “A better guesser.”

  “Yeah. But maybe you could get started on his directives while I’m away. I’ll call the minute I’m back.”

  “You really can’t meet me this week?”

  “It doesn’t look good.”

  In the car on the way home, Phyllis turned to Joe.

  “I hate not being able to tell my family what I do for a living. It seems so dishonest to have to lie or tell half-truths to Connie.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “I suspect he knows. Remember when I returned home to Washington after Oslo?”

  “Yes.”

  “We had a confidential chat without Connie present.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Not much. He told me that he was proud of the job I was doing and to be careful because he knew it was probably dangerous.”

  “You didn’t mention anything about me?”

  “I mentioned your involvement with finding out who had double-crossed Col. Lawrence in London. Dad must have put two and two together about us both.”

  Joe smiled. “Smart man, your dad.”

  “He’s the best.”

  For the next few minutes, the scene Phyllis had described to Joe flashed through her mind. She and her father had stayed up late one night. She’d gone to his house to check on him.

  Del Bowden had been a mining geologist. He was a professional through and through. His job took him to international locations and exotic settings. Work in the field kept his mind occupied with all manner of geologic study. He could collect samples to observe the fabric within the rocks. He could analyze the data from the samples to get a better view of what substances could be forthcoming: gold, silver, lithium and copper, to name a few. Although various illnesses in his life had felled his career, Del Bowden was still as sharp as they come. Now gray-haired and slumped, the man could still read his daughter.