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The Discovery Chapter

By Lisa Buffaloe

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Twenty-one days. Not one word. Sighing, Susan LeClaire poured a cup of coffee. Her novels had gone all the way to the best-seller list, yet now, even though she kept trying to write, started many storylines, for twenty-one long days her characters seemed to be trapped in a virtual waiting room.

Fiction had come easy at first, a safe place to bare her soul and write to right the true-life wrongs done to others. Just like her military career, perhaps her time as a writer had passed. She now lived hidden in plain sight, her author’s name merely an alias, while the secrets in her own life stayed concealed.

No one could know what happened years ago when she was young and on mission to save the world. Susan scoffed at that thought. What she and her friends had done may have made a difference for the government, but no one knew and probably no longer cared. She might only be in her forties, but some in the spy game would consider her ancient, a dinosaur … and dinosaurs were extinct.

In the early morning light, she surveyed her backyard. Her small brick house stood on a hill in the Tennessee woods, isolated, private, yet not too far from civilization. The leaves golden brown and the air cool, reminded her of another place, another time. Even with the heartache she’d encountered, she missed her friends, the days of excitement, the nights of intrigue and crazy adventure.
Unfortunately, the only adventures she had these days was to shop at the all-in-one store near her home or to visit her parents or her half-sister, Nicole, in Southburg, Virginia. At least Nicole had found happiness and the man of her dreams.

Susan patted, Max, her big dog on the head. Dogs were definitely easier to handle than men. Perhaps God had hand-picked Max to be her companion.

A few years ago, her last dog had showed up on her doorstep with a scrawny and underfed puppy in his mouth Susan named Max. The dog looked like he’d been raised in the wild, a mix of wolf, German shepherd, and possibly even a touch of Labrador. Even the veterinarian couldn’t figure out his true breed.

Max, because of his considerable size and piercing dark eyes, commanded respect and in most people, fear. She rubbed his furry head before locking up the house. He would stay on guard until she returned.

Thirty minutes later, Susan entered the big store in the nearest town, checked her list one more time, and walked to the women’s department. She did not inherit the joy of shopping from any of the female persuasion. Buying undergarments was the last thing she wanted to do, unfortunately clothing did wear out. Not that it mattered since she lived alone. Nobody noticed.

Her mother always said to make sure she wore clean underwear in case she ever needed to be taken to the hospital. Susan chuckled; she knew from personal experience your clothes were the least of your worries when accidents happened.
The wounds inflicted by her last mission still throbbed in pain if she laid wrong at night. She tamped down the memory, she was different now, different in name and in soul. God had helped her get through what happened. Maybe life was a little boring and ordinary now, but at least she didn’t have to worry about being shot again. She pushed her cart around a display of cookies and almost ran into her neighbor.

Jeremy, wearing his much-used cowboy hat, stopped in front of her. “Susan!” Although Jeremy was in his seventies, the Indian blood in his veins kept his hair mostly jet-black, and he still had the sparkle in his eyes of a younger man. “Anything exciting happening in your neck of the woods? Are you still writing?”

“No, I’m afraid not. I keep trying but there’s nothing much happening in my stories.”

“Rats. I’m still waiting for your next novel because you left me hanging with your heroine, and I need to know the rest of her story.”

“Yeah, me too. I’ve been stuck. I wish my life wasn’t so boring, I’m running out of ideas.”

“Be careful what you wish for. I’ll pray God shows you what he wants you to write.”

Susan grinned at her friend. “Thank you.”

He semi-tipped his hat. “Stop over later. I have something I want to give you. Bring Max too, I need me some dog loving.” Jeremy put a carton of cookies in his cart and ambled down the next aisle.

She made a mental note to call him when she got back from her errands. Maybe they could ride his horses or sit by the river that ran through his property and talk about God. Being with Jeremy always helped her focus and center. His faith in God and his sage advice had provided many hours of comforting encouragement.
Susan finished her shopping, placed the cold items in a cooler in her car, and drove the hour-and-a-half to check her post office box in another state so that all correspondence went where her home address would stay private.

Making sure she was out of view of any people, Susan pulled over to the side of a deserted road and reached for the black duffel she kept stashed in her car. The bag contained the short red wig she wore over her blonde hair as the alter-ego of her pen name – Penny Chambers. Only Jeremy, and a few others, knew she wrote under that name.

After checking that everything was in place, Susan continued the drive to collect her mail.

As she entered the small post office, she waved to her favorite mail guy at the front counter. “Hey, Wally!”

“Hello Penny! How’s my favorite author? I’m still waiting to read your next novel.” His smile, and easy demeanor, always brightened her day.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything ready as of yet. Maybe one day soon the story will flow.”

“I hope so. I need to know what happens next.” He jumped off his stool. “I’ll get your mail for you.” He hurried back and returned with a small bag. “Take care of yourself and may the writing bug be with you.”

She smiled. “Thank you. I’ll see you next time.”

Returning to her Jeep, she dropped the mail on the seat next to her and drove the quiet country roads to her home. Jeremy’s words repeated in her mind about him praying for her to write what God would want. In her spirit she knew she needed to pray. She did pray, but still she didn’t want to talk to God about what happened three years ago.

Her latest book she was trying to write, or trying to avoid writing, was based on those years. Susan felt drawn to the story and repulsed at the same time. She might be the author, but sometimes a story just seemed to have a mind of its own and not let her go until she got it on paper. She’d changed names, altered locations, and made her characters as far from her own life as possible, and yet, the story continued to overlap, continued to move in a way she didn’t want to go.

Arriving home, her phone alerted she had an incoming text from Jeremy reminding her to drop by his place for a visit.

Susan sorted her mail, careful to shred anything she didn’t keep. A small package caught her attention. The address was made out to Penny Chambers, yet no return address and no markings revealed the origin.

She carefully opened the box. Inside on plain tissue laid a necklace. She picked up the gold chain with a tiny dove pendent. Turning it in the light revealed the little nick on the wing of the small bird. Susan gasped and dropped it on the counter. The necklace.

The jewelry linked to her past, the one she lost, the one Alexander had given her with a promise that one day they would be free as doves, free to fly together, far away from the troubles of this world.

Her heart moaned at the thought of Alexander. Just thinking his name made her lightheaded. The memories they made together, brief but torrent, crazy, passionate, fun, and so very dangerous.

If only she could go back, see him, touch him, love him one more time, but that was no longer an option.

How had someone found the necklace and how had they connected it to her? Her past had been erased, removed by the government as thanks for what had been accomplished years ago. No one was supposed to know her true identity. And as far as anyone knew, Tatiana, the woman she had been as a spy was dead.

Susan clutched the jewelry in her hand, drew it to her chest. When Alexander died, Tatiana died along with him.

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