still smiling.
"Well my reticent scientist proposed and then went to my father and formally asked him for my hand in marriage. Can you believe it?” Maria exclaimed. Her almond- shaped dark eyes flashed and her short brunette curls bounced as she talked.
"For a while you were so serious about being a police detective, I wasn't sure if you wanted to get married," Kate said teasingly. They both laughed loudly, but Maria coupled her left hand over her mouth and phone to muffle hers. They had always been able to laugh together. Their laughter had sustained their friendship through good and bad times.
Leaning back in her chair, Maria continued in a more serious tone. "We are going to be married in the Catholic Church in Saratoga and have the reception at Canfield Casino. You'll be getting an invitation in the mail, but I had to call you first. And, Kate, because of all my sisters, I can't ask you to be in the wedding. My mother thinks four attendants are enough."
"Of course I'll come. Can I bring a date?"
"Are you serious?" exclaimed Maria, jumping to her feet. "You mean someone has finally gotten you to fall for him -- I definitely intend to meet him."
"You will if he can come," Kate promised. Then stretching her legs out on the couch, she said, "I need to ask you about a story I'm working on. I'm trying to track down a story involving the government and the war on drugs. Being such a popular independent forensic pathologist, I know Oliver often hears things. I need to know if either of you knows about any unusual happenings."
"Excuse me," Maria said and then shouted to someone, "Can't you see I'm on the phone. I'll get to it in a minute." Speaking into the phone again, she said, "The only thing I know about is a small plane which exploded two weeks ago in the Adirondacks. Oliver was called in to identify the bodies, and I had to go to investigate for the State Police."
"Why was that not routine?" Kate inquired, tightening her hold on the phone.
"Wait, I still have the report around here somewhere," Maria answered, shuffling through the papers on her desk. "Here it is. I'll read some of it to you. The plane exploded with such force all that was left were some teeth, hair, and part of a hand. There were three victims. One was of the Mongoloid race, the other two Caucasian. The hand appears to belong to the Mongoloid victim, probably Asian. All the dental work found points to non-Americans. A large explosion-proof container with five million dollars and some small packets of coke in it was also found. That's about it," Maria said.
"Is there anything else you can tell me," Kate asked eagerly. She had taken the phone to a small desk, found some paper and a pen, and was rapidly taking notes.
"Well," Maria declared, "a plane crash is most often investigated at the local level, but because of the money and drugs, the DEA was called in. But what is curious is that the FBI came also. Both agencies seem to be working closely together on this one."
"That is interesting," Kate remarked. "Were the races identified by the hair samples?"
"Let me see," answered Maria, again scanning the report. "Yes, they were. And the fingerprints from the hand have been sent to Interpol for identification. They weren't found in our files or the FBI's. The plane was heading to the Saratoga Airport, but no one knows where the plane took off from. That's about all I know, but I'll talk to Oliver, and if we find out anything else, I'll call you."
"Thanks, Maria. I'm surprised you were able to talk your parents into having the wedding in Saratoga instead of Poughkeepsie."
"They are so glad I'm getting married, I could hold the wedding in Alaska, and they wouldn't care."
"I can't wait to see you. I'll talk to you soon." Kate hung up the phone, thinking over what Maria had told her. Maria Passaretti and Oliver Steinberg were at last getting married. What a wedding that should be. Maria was so pretty and petite, and Oliver so dark and handsome. She had wanted to mention the cup but had held back. Next time she would she decided, but for now developing the drug story was proving to be harder than any she had ever come across.
* * *
Two days later when she was trying to decide whom to turn to next, Guy called. He was visiting his aunt and uncle in Brunswick and wanted to meet with her. He suggested they meet at Old Fort Frederica on St. Simons. He felt they would not be noticed walking among the tourists.
Guy walked to her, embraced her, and whispered in her ear. "I feel like I'm being followed, so act like you're my date." He then kissed her, a little too passionately to suit Kate. But since she wanted to hear what he had to say, she kept her mouth shut. They strolled around the landmark, trying to look and act like tourists, but they both kept an eye out for anyone trying to shadow them.
"I overheard some of my clients talking about racehorses and Saratoga," Guy said, nervously.
"Maybe, they just like the horses," Kate said, trying to sound businesslike and keep a little distance between Guy and herself.
"I don't think so," Guy asserted. "In all the years I've been running my shuttle service, this is the first time I have ever heard either mentioned." They had stopped in front of a section of the old stone walls, and Guy leaned against it, watching everyone who walked by.
"That is strange," Kate said. "Thank you for telling me."
He abruptly gave her a peck on her cheek and strolled away. Kate remained for a while, continuing to walk through the fort. This news coupled with Maria's information perplexed her. But noticing the sun was lower on the horizon, she headed for the condo.
By the time she arrived, Kathryn had dinner prepared. They dined on lemon-pepper chicken sautéed in white wine with a medley of yellow quash, tomatoes, and onions, accompanied by sourdough rolls and Chardonnay wine. After dinner, while enjoying a second glass of wine, they watched the local evening news. The TV news anchor informed them that a man driving a red Honda Civic had been hit at an intersection by a BMW. The driver of the BMW, who had left the scene, had failed to stop for the red light. The man had been flown by helicopter to a hospital trauma center in Jacksonville and was listed in critical condition. The local police had learned that the BMW was a rental car out of Jax.
Oh, my goodness," Kate cried out. "It can't be. I think that's the car Guy was driving when I met him this afternoon. Maybe, he was being followed!"
"Kate, what man are you talking about?"
"I'm sorry, Grandmother. It's a man I met with this afternoon in connection to a story I'm working on. I have to call the hospital and find out."
Kate went to the kitchen and called information for Jacksonville and obtained the phone number for the hospital. Then she called the hospital and asked for patient information. After a woman's voice answered, she asked, "Has Guy Johnson been admitted?"
The hospital receptionist replied, "Yes, he has been admitted in critical condition."
"Can you tell me anything else about his condition?" Kate inquired.
"Are you a relative?"
"No, I'm not."
"I'm sorry but I can't give out any further information," the woman said and hung up.
Kate rejoined her grandmother in the living room.
"Kate, dear, what's going on?" Kathryn asked.
Not wanting to alarm her grandmother, Kate simply said, "Evidently,
