The cold rain that had blown in two days ago showed no sign of going away. Freddy pulled his black London Fog raincoat’s collar up, slammed the car door, and walked toward the quaint old house in western Annapolis. Mary Beth Kincaid had met Jonathon Riles while he was a midshipman at the Naval Academy and they’d fallen madly in love, getting married immediately after his graduation. Her father had been a navy captain and she’d married another one. It was no surprise to Freddy that she’d moved back to her old family home after Admiral Riles’s reported suicide. The house looked like something an old sea dog would be comfortable in.
From all reports, Mary Beth was a strong woman, volunteering all her free time for community charities. Strong, but heartbroken. Her old friends said she’d lost her zest for life, isolating herself in the old house when not at work. Neighbors checked in on her, but it was clear she wanted to be by herself, to be left alone with her grand piano and her grief.
Walking up the three steps, he stepped onto the open front porch and raised the brass knocker. The haunting notes of “Greensleeves” drifted out, making him reluctant to interrupt her playing, but his damned reporter’s nose had led him here, and maybe, just maybe, he could help this wounded lady find some peace.
As the song ended, he finally brought the knocker down in three sharp raps. The woman who opened the door little resembled the one in the picture he’d seen of Admiral and Mrs. Riles. It was a photo taken when Admiral Riles had just been appointed director of the National Security Agency. In that picture, the laugh lines around her sparkling blue eyes were the only lines on her face, a face framed by blonde hair elegantly highlighted with the first streaks of gray.
No hint of blonde remained in her hair and her cheeks looked tugged down by the weight of the world. Perhaps it was the reflection of the dark clouds behind him, but her eyes seemed to have dulled to gray.
“Mrs. Riles?”
“Yes. How may I help you?”
“I don’t know exactly. I’m hoping you can tell me.”
She studied him for several seconds. Then, with a questioning look, she opened the door.
“Please come in. I was about to pour myself some tea. Would you like some?”
“That would be nice,” Freddy said, removing his raincoat and hanging it on the coat rack.
“One lump or two?”
“Black...er, plain is fine.”
Freddy moved to the mantle, studying the photos in their frames, neatly arranged from left to right in chronological order. Mary and Jon, arm in arm at a Naval Academy formal, cutting their wedding cake, a kiss at a promotion party, the two of them standing on the deck of the USS Ronald Reagan, and finally the same photo Freddy had found online.
The tinkle of fine china behind him caused him to turn to see Mary Beth setting two cups and saucers on the coffee table.
“We were a lovely couple, wouldn’t you say?”
“I would.”
Freddy felt out of his element. It wasn’t the old sea captain’s house that was messing with his head. It was this old woman. Mary Beth carried an aura of pain and grace that sapped his wit, leaving him little better than a muttering simpleton.
“Please, come and have a seat beside me.” She patted a spot on the sofa.
Freddy maneuvered around the low table, his bad leg making the turn awkward. Mary Beth noticed.
“How’d you lose it?”
“A bad encounter with an industrial saw.”
“Sorry to hear it. Losing a part of yourself is hard.”
Picking up the teapot, Mary Beth poured, first his, then hers, her hand surprisingly steady. Freddy reached out, pinching the tiny handle between forefinger and thumb, feeling as if he would snap it off before the cup reached his lips.
“Well, Mister...”
“Hagerman. Freddy Hagerman.”
“Well, Mr. Hagerman, if you’d be so kind, I’d like to hear why you came to see me.”
Freddy took a sip, burned his lip, and set the cup back on its saucer. For once he wished he were better at this tact shit.
“Mrs. Riles, I came to talk about your husband.”
Her face showed no change.
“Go on.”
“I’m an investigative reporter for the New York Post. There’s really no way to say this other than to come right out with it, so here goes. I have good reason to believe your husband didn’t commit suicide.”
Again, he detected no change in Mary Beth’s expression.
“I believe Jonathan was murdered by a group of people bent on stopping his investigation into the Rho Project.”
Her eyes were definitely blue now. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t know.”
For a moment Freddy was speechless. “You knew? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
The laugh bubbled off Mary Beth’s lips but didn’t make it to her eyes.
“Oh, I told them all. Told the investigators. Told his superiors. Told everyone. But I’m a grieving widow, an old woman, blinded by love for my dead husband, unwilling to see anything bad in him, clueless to the goings-on in the real world of men and politics. I finally quit banging my head on that wall. But you know something, Mr. Hagerman? No matter what they say, it didn’t feel better when I stopped.”
“So will you help me?”
“I don’t know how.”
“Do you know a man named Jack Gregory?”
For the first time since he’d met her, a genuine smile graced Mary Beth’s lips.
“Let me tell you something, Freddy. Jonny always said I was the best natural judge of character he’d ever seen.”
There it was again, that nice smile.
“It was the reason I invited you in.”
She reached for her cup, took a small sip, dabbed her lips with the back of her hand.
“Jack Gregory is a young god. Jonny would have given his life for him. So would I.”
“I think he did.”
Setting her cup back in its saucer, Mary Beth locked her eyes with Freddy’s.
“Then I’m happy.”
“Jack’s not.”
Her left eyebrow rose a quarter of an inch.
“Tell me about it.”
For the next half hour Freddy related the abridged version of what Jack Gregory had told him that night in the Maryland hotel. When he finished, Mary Beth Riles dabbed the corners of her eyes with a kerchief.
“So my Jonny was trying to save the world.”
“And Jack still is.”
“One thing about Jonny. He always had a backup plan. You up for helping me look through his old things?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
Rising to her feet, Mary Beth held her hand out to Freddy.
“Then let’s go save our saviors.”