WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN?
by
PiperMerlyn
Chapter 2
The Chapters
22 April 2004
Athens, Greece
10:37 a.m.
A cool breeze wafted off the water, rippling his sun-blond hair. His blue eyes were narrowed as he surveyed the yachts and smaller boats dotting the harbor. His ride was supposed to be waiting on him, not the other way around. He strode back to the building behind him, his hands clenched and shoulders stiff. If Jack had sent him on some damn wild goose chase this close to his wedding day, he was seriously considering bodily harm.
A woman walked toward him, her long dark curls trailing over her shoulders. She was wearing a simple peasant blouse in soft ecru and a dark brown skirt. Her eyes were dark brown and her skin a light tan. She smiled. “Ah, the Greek gods walk among us once more.”
Joe MacKensey froze and stared at the slender woman. She cocked her head to one side, as if anticipating a response. He groaned, realizing that either Jack had failed to tell him that his contact was a woman, or that it was just his luck some native would say the same phrase his contact was supposed to say. He frowned and sighed. If he’d paid a bit more attention, he would have probably guessed his contact was a woman but damn it, his own wedding pending kept him distracted. “If that is true, it is I who should pay homage to a goddess.”
The woman rolled her brown eyes and her faint Greek accent disappeared. “So clandestine, cloak-and-dagger. Do you think they ever get weary of it?”
Joe shook his head. “I doubt it. For some, it’s all the fun they get to have.”
She laughed. “True. My yacht is this way.”
Joe kept pace with her as they threaded among the tourists visiting Athens. “Jack didn’t give me your name.”
Before she could answer, he heard a loud blast from a ship’s horn. Joe looked to his left and his eyes widened. What was Dan Hargrave doing here?
“Hey, Macklin!”
Joe stopped, confused. It would make sense for Jack not to bother with names if he already was familiar with the person he was supposed to contact. He glanced at the woman and frowned. “Who are you?”
Her smile widened and she raised one hand. He saw the gun at the same time he heard the ship’s horn blast again. He knew Hargrave was too far away to help. But how had she known the code phrase? Dread washed over him. “Lilith.”
She gave him a wide-eyed look. “Don’t tell me it took this long to figure it all out. But you’re a bit off. Lily van Buren would know the code phrase.” She laughed. “Especially since Lily doesn’t get out much and have fun.”
Joe winced, he’d been sarcastic about the code phrases. “Lilith, what the hell are you doing?”
She smiled and Joe found himself wondering what was different about her; she seemed harder, edgier, as if she were on a deadline. “Let’s see, your wedding is a week from tomorrow, correct?”
Joe felt a chill. “How’d you know?”
Her smile faded and her face hardened. “I know more than you could ever imagine. That would be a nice life, wouldn’t it, married to her, nice house in the suburbs, a passel of kids running about...”
The bitterness in her voice startled him; it made her seem even more different. She wasn’t like she’d been in Ireland last year, coy, seductive, and ruthless. Now she seemed just bitter, angry, reckless. He wondered what had happened, seconds before he decided to make a break for it. They were near the water, close enough for him to make a running dive.
The ship’s horn sounded again, closer this time. It startled her and for a moment, her gaze was directed to the yacht drifting toward them and Joe took his chance. He took off running and angled himself to make a shallow dive just as a gunshot went off. He felt a burning, exploding pain behind his eyes and then everything went black just as he hit the water....
*****
1 May 2006
Athens, Greece
11:41 a.m.
Daniel Hargrave walked quietly along the white corridor, dodging nurses and doctors, most who were conversing quietly in Greek with the occasional conversation in English. He glanced at his watch and took a deep breath. Two years ago, he’d had a shouting match with his boss. It was a wonder Wilder hadn’t fired him over the phone.
Dan wasn’t sure he liked his boss much. The man played things too close to the vest ninety-nine percent of the time and this time it had nearly cost a life. At the end of the corridor, he saw a broad-shouldered man, his dark brown hair tousled as if he’d been running his hands through it. “Jake.”
Jake Brogan looked up and managed a weary smile. “You made record time.”
“I wasn’t that far away.” Dan shrugged. “Tying up some loose ends in Naples.”
Jake glanced over his shoulder at the closed door. “They’re talking shutting down.”
Dan frowned. “They can’t do that, can they? There’s brain wave activity. Damn it, he’s not dead.”
“I know that. But they’re talking that he should have responded to treatment by now.” Jake gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Dan, it’s been two years.”
“He’s in a coma. Damn it, the bullet just missed the cerebral cortex, what do they expect?” Dan took a deep breath. He could see it all again as if it had happened only yesterday. Joe was ready to dive into the water, meet up with him, when the woman had fired her gun. Joe had hit the water hard, blood pooling across the surface of the water.
Joe had lost a lot of blood by the time he’d arrived at the hospital. The doctor, a serious older Greek, had warned the prognosis wasn’t good then, despite the fact the bullet had managed to miss both the cerebral cortex and the jugular.
“Dan, it’s not me you need to convince.” Jake spared another look for the closed door. “The nurses jabbered away more in Greek than English; maybe I called you here for nothing.”
Dan grunted and looked around. “I need to find Dr. Stefanos.” He caught a nurse’s eye and asked for the man. The woman directed him down several hallways to the doctor’s office.
“Mister Hargrave, welcome to Athens once again.” Michael Stefanos stood up and stretched a hand across his desk.
Dan shook it and nodded to Jake. “My friend said you want to shut down?”
Michael sat back down, gesturing for them to sit as well. With his tanned skin, and silver hair he looked like a younger, more handsome George Hamilton. “Mr. Hargrave, the patient is responding well to treatment. I feel he can be taken off life support. In fact, he could have been taken off months ago.”
Jake blinked. “I thought your nurses said...”
“Sometimes misunderstandings occur, Mr. Brogan. I was not on duty at that time. I apologize for any inconvenience.”
Dan sighed. “So he’s doing better?”
“He is breathing on his own, his heartbeat is steady. I see no reason to leave him on life support. The equipment can be better utilized elsewhere by those who need it more.”
Dan shifted in his chair. “Do you think he’s ready to be moved?”
“To America?” Dr. Stefanos looked pensive. “He has healed from his wounds, Mr. Hargrave, but I am not sure I can relinquish all responsibility for his welfare.” The man gave a rather embarrassed smile. “We have...grown attached to our sleeping American. The nurses all call him Prince Charming; they say he only needs a princess to awaken him.”
Dan didn’t smile. He knew a bit about Joe’s history, about the girl he’d been about to marry two years ago. As always, there was an efficient grapevine in his line of work. Cassandra MacFairlaigne had married nine months after that fateful day. She was living in England, if he remembered right. “His princess is no longer his.”
Stefanos arched a dark eyebrow. “I see.” He shifted in his chair and fiddled with a pen. “I will monitor his reactions to being solely on his own, after we shut down the life support system. If he responds well, I see no reason that he cannot return home by week’s end.”
Dan nodded. “Thank you.” He got to his feet. “May we see him.”
“But of course. Take all the time you wish. There is no special time to shut down.”
Dan headed out the door, Jake on his heels. Alone in the hallway, Jake lowered his voice. “What are you going to do?”
“Jack’s been keeping the rent and utilities paid on Joe’s apartment. Once Joe wakes up, he’ll go back there.” Dan shrugged and started down the hall, with Jake following.
Jake sighed. “Do you ever wonder what would have happened if that woman hadn’t tried to grab him? He’d be married now, probably resigned from the agency. His partner too.”
Dan grunted. “Probably.”
“Too bad there’s no such thing as time travel.”
“You’re such a romantic, Brogan.” Dan’s tone was sarcastic.
“Don’t you wish things were different?”
Dan stopped in front of the door to the man’s room. He pushed it open and stepped inside. There was the faint beep of life support and the man lying in the bed was so still, so pale that Dan wondered if he would ever return to normal. And in that moment, Dan wished with all his heart that things were different...”Yeah.”
*****
1 May 2006
London, England
2:45 p.m.
“We’re approaching the runway...”
The blaring voice yanked Catherine out of her dream and she hated going. Tears filled her eyes as she opened them. The dream had been so nice, so...normal.
Ethan spared his wife a glance. “Cathy?”
“I’m okay.”
“You sure.” With a gentle hand, he brushed her tears away. “Bad dream?”
Catherine shook her head. “No. No, just wishful thinking, I guess. I...” She swallowed hard. “I was dreaming Joe and Casi were happily married, living in Provincetown.”
Ethan wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Oh, Cathy...” he said, his tone sad.
Catherine cleared her throat. “I’m okay, Ethan. It’s not like we’ll find a magic lamp or wand floating around.”
He gave her a hug as her cousin Jareth taxied toward a small hanger. Although they’d come in on a private plane, they still went through customs. Ethan hefted their luggage and headed for the car rental agency. Catherine joined him at the desk. “I’m driving.”
“Why?”
“Because I can remember to drive on the left.”
“Hey, it was an honest mistake. I get confused sometimes,” he added, remembering the one time he’d insisted on renting a car in Killarney and driving to Castle MacFairlaigne instead of letting someone pick them up.
Catherine grunted and went through the paperwork for a rental quickly. The clerk handed her a key and wished her a good day. She and Ethan headed out to the car park and located the vehicle. Ethan grunted. “A Honda? Why not a luxury car, why not a convertible? Why not a Hummer?”
Catherine rolled her hazel eyes. “Get in, Ethan.” When he headed for the passenger side, she shook her head. “Other side, Ethan.”
“Oh, right.” He loaded their luggage and got in the passenger side and settled in. “How far to Brighton?”
“Depends on the traffic on the highway to Brighton. It’ll be close to four-thirty before we get there.”
“Ah, just enough time for a power nap.” Ethan levered his seat back and closed his eyes, not seeing his wife just shake her head in amusement. He drifted off quickly enough, the steady vibration of the car pushing him into a deeper sleep...
*****
The steady motion reminded him of a train, moving along the track; Intermittent light gave a strobe-like impression until he realized] they were passing in and out of short tunnels.
“Ethan.”
He jumped and turned around. Far into the distance was a pinprick of cold white light. In front of that pinprick was a hazy human-shaped shadow. Then it dawned on him, the train was roaring on silent wheels toward that pinprick of light. Snatches of a country song about a long black train flitted though his mind.
“Ethan, where the hell are you?”
Ethan gave a start as he recognized the voice. “Joe?” he asked, shocked to a faint whisper.
The shadow shifted as if it had turned to face him. “Ethan, help me.”
Ethan went ghost-pale and swallowed hard. “No. This is just a damn dream. More wishful thinking.”
“Ethan...”
*****
“Ethan?”
His eyes snapped open and he sucked in a lungful of air as if he’d been underwater, deprived of oxygen.
“Ethan, damn it, answer me.”
Ethan turned staring eyes toward her and then blinked. “Cathy,” he managed, his voice sounding rusty. “What—?”
“We’re here.” Catherine studied her husband for a long moment. “You okay?”
Ethan swallowed hard. Before them was a house that could only be called a mansion. The sunlight coming from the west was muted by clouds but glinted off the array of windows, making it appear as if the interior was on fire. Smoke – a hazier shadow – curled upward from the two chimneys on either side of the three-story house. “My God, there’s even a fountain,” muttered Ethan.
Catherine rolled her eyes. “No need to be facetious.”
Ethan shook his head and got of the car. The fountain gurgled softly, turquoise water spilling out of a cupped flower petal held by an impish fairy, the entire sculpture made of dark gray stone. It sat in the middle of a paved courtyard that also served as a semi-circular driveway.
The double doors swung inward and Ethan saw Casi for the first time in two years. She was more slender than he’d remembered; looked almost frail. Her hair was long, nearly to her hips now, twisted into a single braid that hung down her back. She rushed out and then stopped and stared at him, almost like a skittish deer. “Ethan.”
Ethan felt his heart skip a beat and wondered if he should have even come. Maybe he should have gone back home, let the sisters spend time together. “Casi,” he said tightly, hating to think that the memories would be hurtful.
She moved then, rushing at him like a frantic child. She wrapped her arms around his neck, buried her head in his shoulder and began to cry. He felt Catherine come up to them, rest a light hand on her sister’s head. Chad found them there a moment later. He stood in the doorway for a long minute and then turned on his heel and disappeared into the house, not even bothering to shut the doors.
“Casi?” whispered Catherine, running her hand down her sister’s hair.
Casi shuddered and pulled her into the embrace. Ethan held them both as his wife started to cry as well. He rested his head on Cathy’s and felt the tears come. They held each other as the sun flared orange and red and sank into the western sea.
Slowly, Casi released them. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Ethan gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “Don’t be.”
Catherine kissed her sister’s cheek. “We love you...we’ve missed you. I’ve missed you.”
Casi sniffed and Ethan promptly whipped out a handkerchief. “Here.”
“Thanks. Come on inside. I’ve put you in the sunflower room.”
Ethan arched an eyebrow. “Sunflower room? You name your rooms?” He gazed around the grand entrance and let a low whistle. “How many bedrooms you got anyway?”
“Ethan.”
Casi found herself smiling. “It’s okay, Cat. And yes, Ethan, I’ve named all ten bedrooms.”
“Ten? My God, what are you going to do with ten bedrooms...?”
From his study, the voices quickly faded away. He heard his wife’s laughter drift down the staircase and his hand clenched so tightly on the glass of whiskey, it was a wonder it didn’t shatter. He wasn’t sure if he could handle her sister’s visit for long. It reminded him too much of what he’d almost lost.
Let the author know what you think of this story
Home Library Authors Rogue's Gallery Vehicles Chums Message Board Rap Sheet Links Contact
Disclaimer
The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.