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On The Other HandChapter 10: The Trials Of An Optimist free porn video
I didn't expect to sleep, but at some point, exhaustion overcame me and I fell into a restless slumber, waking several times with a start. I gave up at six in the morning and showered, shaved, and dressed for the day. First stop would be the motel office for some directions and whatever information I could get about the explosion.
The attendant was an older man, and I wondered if he might be the husband of the woman who was on the night desk.
"Good morning, can you tell me where I can find a decent breakfast in town?"
"Sure, The Swordfish, it's back along Center Drive here about a half mile on your left."
"Thanks. Have you heard anything about the explosion? How many dead or injured?"
"Oh, yeah, heck, it nearly knocked me and the wife down it was so loud. Blew out a bunch of windows on Center Drive too. They're not saying much yet, but we know at least four people were killed. Never had anything like that in this town. Some folks are sayin' it was a gas leak ... some others think it was dynamite. Nobody's talking though. Strange, too. They didn't take a lot of people to the hospital. Just the really bad hurt people. I don't know what they did with the rest. Strange, like I say."
It was strange.
"How many people do you figure were in the building when it blew up?"
"Can't say. Been quite a crowd around there in the last month or so. Bunch of strangers we'd never seen before. I'd bet there was more than thirty, though. The fire department knocked most of the building down to get at the fire and search the rubble. Don't think they've found anyone though. There was no one around the place last night."
I shook my head, wondering what it all meant.
"Thanks. I'll head up to the Swordfish, then to the hospital. I'm looking for someone who might have been in the building when it blew."
"Say, that's a shame. I hope they're all right. Was it kinfolk?"
"My fiancée."
"Oh ... well ... now that's hard. Well, I wish you luck. I hope she's maybe one of the lucky ones."
"Yeah, me too. Thanks again," I said and headed out the door.
So the fire department knocked down some of the building. Maybe it wasn't as bad as it looked. Be optimistic, I told myself. She might not even have been in the building when it blew. No ... that didn't make sense. She would have called me or her parents to let us know she was safe.
Or would she? If she wasn't supposed to tell anyone where she was, she couldn't very well tell them she was okay, could she? Sure she could. She could call me. I knew where she was. Even if she couldn't get me, she could check in with her parents without saying anything about the explosion. Round and round I went, and where I stopped I did not know.
Breakfast at the Swordfish was good and it was plentiful. The last meal I'd kept down was the night before last and I was very hungry. Two coffee refills later and I pushed myself away from the counter and left a ten on the check, still leaving a healthy tip. I walked to the car, dreading my next stop, the hospital.
"No sir, we don't have anyone named Carlisle here."
"Is it possible she was brought in with the explosion victims yesterday?"
"No sir, they've all been identified."
"I understand at least four people were killed. How would I go about finding out if my fiancée was one of them?"
"You'd have to check with the County Coroner's office. That's in Gloucester. I doubt they'll be able to tell you much if anything. You usually have to get a court order unless you are next of kin identifying a body. You should talk to the police department. Maybe they can help you. I'm sorry, I can't do anything more for you."
"I understand. Thank you for your help all the same," I said quietly as I walked out of the hospital lobby and toward the parking lot.
I drove back to the site of the explosion and noticed some people on the property. A couple of them were dressed in suits, and I wondered if they were F.B.I. or another federal agency. I found a parking spot and walked over the tape. The smell of the smoke and whatever had burned up were still strong in the nostrils. I waited patiently to get the attention of one of the men in the dark suits. When one of them looked my way, I waved to get his attention. He saw me and walked carefully through the rubble.
"Hi, I'm Will Travers and I'm looking for my fiancée, Nicole Carlisle. I checked at the hospital and she's not there. Can you help me?"
"I doubt it," he said. "We're just getting a handle on what happened. Did your fiancée work in this building?"
"No ... well, not normally. She was here on a project with the federal government."
His eyes immediately narrowed and his eyebrows rose.
"What did you say your name was?"
"Will Travers."
"Do you have some identification, Mr. Travers."
"Yeah ... here," I said, offering my press credentials.
"You're a long way from home, Mr. Travers. When did you get here?"
"I heard about the explosion yesterday afternoon and drove to Detroit to catch a plane to Boston. I got here about ten-thirty last night."
"Do you know what you fiancée was doing in this building?"
"Uhhm, before I answer that, can I see some identification, please?" I was stalling, trying to get some cooperation from the man and not become a suspect.
He reached in his pocket pulled out a typical government identification folder and opened without looking. He was Special Agent Fred Kosloski, F.B.I.
"Thanks. I was pretty sure you were from the Bureau."
"Oh, and why did you think that?"
"Look, I know Nicole wasn't supposed to tell anyone where she was or what she was doing, but I was able to track her down by fairly straightforward means. She boarded a chartered private jet in Saginaw; a friend in the business told me who owned the aircraft and where it was going.
"Once I knew it was heading to Beverly, I went back to my files on the Hepplinger Foundation where Nicole works and started digging. When I came across SOCK, I noticed there were some strange things about it. I made an educated guess. When I heard about the explosion here, I put two and two together. Nicole never told me anything about this project. I figured it out on my own."
He looked at me right in the eye and didn't blink. He was trying to make up his mind about something.
"Wait here," he said at length, turning to walk back toward the other suited man. He had a few words with him, then started back toward me.
"Come with me," he said. "I want you to talk to someone."
I really didn't have much choice. I had to know what happened to Nicole and this was the first hint that I might be getting somewhere. I followed him to the ubiquitous black SUV and got in the passenger side. We drove in silence westward to what looked like a secure area in the industrial part of town. A gate guard checked the driver's identification and waved us forward.
We pulled up in front of a nondescript building that might have been offices with a warehouse in the back. I didn't need to be told to follow agent Kosloski. We stepped into a room that looked like a reception area.
"I'll be back in a couple of minutes," the agent said. "Help yourself to a coffee if you like."
"Thanks," I nodded.
Just what I needed, more caffeine. Didn't matter though, I made myself a coffee with extra cream and sat in an uncomfortable wooden chair that looked like it was older than my father. Kosloski was gone for over fifteen minutes before he returned, standing at the door he had gone through.
"Come in, please," he said politely.
I was happy the attitude was good with this agent. I didn't feel he was trying to intimidate me. I was ushered into an equally austere office and an older man, slim and dressed in the obligatory dark suit stood and stuck out his hand.
"I'm Special Agent Crandall, Mr. Travers. I'm in charge of the operation here. Have a seat. We need to talk."
I nodded and sat in a slightly more comfortable wooden chair with a covered foam pad on the seat. It wasn't the kind of chair I would expect if I was going to be interrogated.
"We've had a chance to look you up, Mr. Travers. You appear to be a solid citizen. No black marks against you. Agent Kosloski said you didn't have much trouble tracking Ms. Carlisle here."
"I have some contacts that the rest of the public wouldn't have access to. I'm a reporter and I do feature stories. Some of the people I do stories on are grateful and when I need a favor, usually information, they often respond. As I told Agent Kosloski, it was a simple matter to find out where Nicole's plane was headed."
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