Chapter 21

The waterfront welcomed me home to Fort Lauderdale. The house was just as comfortable as it was when I was there before. Without Catherine, who died saving my life, it just wasn't the same. I'd brought Nicole and Leslie there to try and get over the loss of Catherine, but it didn't do the trick, so I decided to try a dose of tough love. I would stay in the house alone until it felt like home to me.

The summer is hot in Florida, but Fort Lauderdale is temperate, and the ocean breeze helps keep things civilized. I used Fornier's Land Rover, which came with the house in the lawsuit, and did enough grocery shopping to last a while. My local attorney had kept the bills paid and the property cared for, so there were no problems to deal with other than frustration and loneliness.

The relaxation was welcome as I was still a little off center from the throat injury. I spent several days sleeping late, enjoying the runabout and jet skis and lounging in and by the pool.

On the fourth day I got a visitor that blew my mind.

It was late morning, and I was about to hop in the Land Rover and go find a good burger, when a black Suburban pulled up in front of the house, and a woman of undetermined age stepped out, carrying herself like I imagined an African princess would. She was lithe, slender, and looked like a perfectly proportioned marathon runner. Her eyes were alive with curiosity and a guardedness that was in itself a warning.

Over my lifetimes I'd learned to let people bring their message to me, and how to avoid seeming anxious or off balance, and so I waited just outside the front door for her to announce her intentions.

I didn't have to wait long.

"Mr. Noah Guthrie, I am Jennelle Meents. The Judge sends his regards."

If she knew the Judge, then she would know much, much more. Still I waited.

When it was apparent she hadn't provoked a response from me, she continued. "I need a bit of your time, please. There are things we'd like to discover and think you might be able to help." Her voice had a peculiar timber, as if she was educated at Oxford or Cambridge, even though that wouldn't be her native accent. It wasn't good, and it wasn't bad. It just was, and I filed that away for future reflection.

Rather than drag it out, I said, "If you will wait here, I want to make private phone call to confirm you are who you say and that you are supposed to be here, since I have heard nothing about a pending visit."

Jennelle didn't like being made to wait and attempted to intimidate me. "Surely you don't think The Judge would send me without authorization, now do you? What could you possibly have to be afraid of, Mr. Guthrie? I think you'll see me whether you like it, or not..." She had a point, but it was lost on me as I closed and locked the front door, leaving her stunned and standing on the stoop.

It took considerably longer than I intended, but my call was finally transferred to The Judge, and he confirmed that a black woman named Jennelle did work for him, and he hoped that I would allow her to interview me.

After I thanked him and hung up, I let her in.

When I opened the front door, Jennelle Meents was on the phone, and when she saw me motion her in, she cut off the person on the other end, hung up and walked in. Her eyes were flashing her annoyance, and I looked forward to giving her a very hard time, since she obviously needed to learn some manners.

Without a word I led Jennelle to the front room and took a seat, indicating she should do likewise. She chose a seat across from me and dove right in. "How many identities have you assumed, Mr. Guthrie?"

Her tone was imperious, angry, impatient, and threatening.

Ok. Two can play this game. "I am sorry Miss Meents, but I neither like your tone nor appreciate your accusation. If you have no better manners than to walk in here and attack me with an imbecilic accusation, it is time for you to leave." I needed her gone so I could figure out what she was getting at without giving anything away.

She sat there stunned while I rose and motioned for her to follow to the front door. Eventually she shook herself, closed her day timer, and walked to her car, never looking back.

'She'll be back, ' I thought as the Suburban disappeared around the bend.

There was nothing incriminating in the house and even less that could give away anything about my past identities, so that was not problem. After feeling trapped for a little while, I started to concentrate on my behavior, habits, succession of fortunes, and my incredibly lucky occurrences that had me always where the bad thing was going to happen.

Noah was a little bit of a lazy identity for me. I shouldn't have come back to the Ranch, and then Fornier's place. It was almost like shining a spotlight on and shouting, "Hey! Look at me!" Each time through, if I wanted to stay under the radar, I needed to re-invent my behavior, habits, likes, and dislikes or risk exposure like that.

Days went by, and I was hyper sensitive about watching my back, anticipating surveillance, and avoiding giving anything away. I even took pains to appear completely unconcerned about Jennelle's visit.

Something worked, because on the fifth day, Jennelle rang my door bell. "Mr. Guthrie. I am terribly sorry about how I came across the other day. You were correct in throwing me out. I deserved it and apologize. Is it possible to start again without my haughty behavior, sir?" She wasn't fooling me one bit. This one was a shark swimming silently in a wading pool.

"Please come in, and let's get something to drink while you pick my brain," was my response, as I turned, ignored her, and fixed us iced tea and fresh fruit.

When she was settled on the sofa with a plate of fruit and tumbler of tea, I handed her three of her listening devices. "When you bug a man's home, try to be more thoughtful. I destroyed the others, but in case you have to account for them, I saved the smashed pieces," which I showed her in a plastic cup.

Jennelle was surprised all over again.

"When ... Where ... How ... What???" I loved keeping her off balance.

"Don't ever violate my privacy again. Do not come here, planting bugs and then pretend to be my friend. If you want to know something, act like an adult and ask politely. If you are going to be a jerk, get out and don't come back." She could see the resolve in my eyes. I let my annoyance show, but not my anger.

I wanted her to like me, just not so soon.

Jennelle's body language gave away her loss of dominance before she spoke. I could see she felt deflated by my response, and when I handed her the listening devices, along with the broken pieces of the ones she thought I'd never find, she knew the game was up.

Sometimes silence is more deadly than words, and I let it grow between us until she blinked and said, "You know, you're right ... I had no cause to treat you so rudely, and I truly apologize. The Judge was ebullient about you and how freely you helped us without demanding anything, blaming us for getting you hurt, or playing the injured party.

"I knew all that and still treated you the way we treat everybody. Please forgive me and let me say that you are not a suspect in anything, just a puzzle, inside a riddle to us. We can't figure out how several young men have come to our attention, who behave so much like you, that it just screams 'identity theft.'