The Harbinger by Mary Eicher

Author:Mary Eicher [Eicher, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: terrorism, violence, death of a child, cult membership, the death of a family member, suicidal ideation, cancer, casual misogyny
ISBN: 9781648900280
Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC
Published: 2020-08-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Election day was the best of days and the worst of times for Samuel Hemsley. He had always spent it in private with his wife and a few very close friends. This election he preferred to spend the day alone. He walked along the beach in Carmel, California, wearing an old pair of slacks, a sweater, and a windbreaker. The wind made a hat unwieldy, but he tied a bandana around his head and wore sunglasses to complete the anonymous look he intended.

He’d picked Carmel because, despite all the venues where they had spent time during their marriage, he and Sarah had loved walking this expanse of beach most. The wind buffeted him with sand as he walked, and he grieved for his wife. His sense of loss grew as the days passed. He grieved for the woman he had always thought he knew and for the woman he had never suspected existed. His chief of staff had briefed him on many clandestine endeavors Sharon had engaged in through the years. The effects of which, he knew, could never be fully tallied. At least one foray into the “black arts,” as Jim had nicknamed Sarah’s activities, had brought her into direct contact with Jamil Uberdorf.

Out of respect Hemsley had not asked for more details. He wanted the whole thing to remain lost in the past. The way Sarah would no doubt have wanted it. So, he asked Jim to do what he could to destroy any evidence, eliminating even the remote possibility of exposure. Jim dubbed it the “bleach-bit campaign.”

Hemsley meandered along the beach avoiding contact with the other beachcombers, who occasionally happened by, until he came upon an elderly man sitting at the base of a bluff and sipping from a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. The man waved at him and persisted in calling to him, so Hemsley strolled toward the bluff.

“Drink?” The man held up his bottle, offering it to him.

“Ah, no thank you.”

“Suit yourself.” The man took a healthy drink before setting the bottle in the sand. “Hell of a day, isn’t it?”

Hemsley nodded. He regretted having approached the man and started to back away.

“I was hoping you would sit with me a while,” the man said, pulling wisps of white hair from in front of his eyes. “I don’t have anybody else. I saw you walking alone, and I thought, well, I hoped you might sit with me a spell.”

“Are you ill? Should I get you some help?” Hemsley pulled out his cell.

“Yes. I mean no. I take pills for my ticker, but that’s not new.” He gave Hemsley a slap on his pant leg. “Come on, sit down. I’m getting a crick in my neck staring up at you. I’d like to talk a while.”

Hemsley stepped forward and sat in the sand about three feet from the fragile looking man who, having declared he wanted to talk, stubbornly fell silent. Hemsley looked out at the ocean to see what the man was staring at.

“I’ve seen this ocean near every day of my eighty-seven years,” the man finally said.

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