cemetery.
After the burial, Sarah and Carter prayed, not leaving the site until sundown. They hadn’t eaten all day. They had laid John’s head near one of the yearling trees for shade. In her final gesture, she clasped her locket and chain around the tree. He’d given it to her when departing for Europe. She locked it around the branches of the tiny tree, kissing it for the last time. He had had it engraved “My love forever,” and their wedding pictures were inside. He had feared that he might not return and wanted to give her one lasting symbol of his devotion. It seemed fitting to leave it with him now, where she could visit. She did so every day for the rest of her life.
The orchard flourished, and the farm became productive soon after that. Neither mother nor child left the farm except for necessities and then always together. Carter didn’t return to school, which hurt Sarah, but she knew why he left. They cared for the trees day in and out, pruning and shaping them, loving them and nurturing with more time and affection than any other farmers. Whenever they were near John’s tree, they would stop and reflect. They sometimes placed special things under it, as a small shrine. Carter had run up the hill after the first good day of sales from the roadside stand he’d built, excited to tell his father.
Reflection
Kiki held the locket, imagining how it came to be there. She had never experienced any kind of joy at this farm. That had not been the case with the owner of the locket. She’d felt immense love and horrible loss. The intensity of emotions seemed to flow from the ornament in Kiki’s fingers. It was sad to think of the joy and tragedy people had once experienced here. Love built the farm long ago. It had once been a product of two people’s dreams.
It began deteriorating after her father bought it. His job at Ford didn’t allow enough time to care for the trees properly. The trees were unkempt. An old farm stand had been torn down by her father. She remembered some years when he would hire migrant workers to prune or clean around the trees. She held the locket gently, amazed that it still survived. It seemed to be sending a message. Jim came up behind and knelt down to look. She said, “Look at this. It says something.” She gently rubbed the grime of ninety years away and read the inscription aloud, careful not to break the delicate chain. “They were deeply in love.”
“Why don’t you open it?”
She replied softly while placing the locket back against the tree and backing out, “No, let’s leave.”
A small tear dripped along her cheek. Jim noticed it and thought carefully about what to say next, “Do you think that’s the grave? Is that where the killer is buried?”
She ignored his indelicacy, “Yes,” was all she could say as she kept walking toward the car. “I need to leave now.” Something spiritual affected her, it’s the only way she could have described it. Ninety years later, she could feel the pain – and the love. She felt an intense sense of loss for the Albrechts. A woman she would never know had suffered in a way Kiki could never imagine. That was the story of the locket. It was as though the woman was reaching out to her for reassurance that life would go on for her and her son – that the farm would live on.
Nothing more was said until they were leaving the property, turning onto the state highway. Jim tried to be gentle, “Do you want to come back tomorrow?”
“I don’t know.” She held a tissue in her lap.
Disclosure
“So what do you think Uri, should I meet with Dr. Evanoff? Should I explain why we’re interested in the gold?”
“I believe it is the next logical thing to be done, Peter. He is also of distant nobility, although I do not think it matters to him. It is important, however, that he feels the assignment is the proper one for him. He does not appear to be motivated strictly by money. He needs a purpose in what he is doing. I cannot act as an interpreter; you should speak with him directly.”
Peter worried about disclosing anything to another stranger. He had not given Uri any information strictly about the search for Kolchak’s Gold, but talking to Evanoff would require more details, details that Peter’s White investors might not approve. He decided to speak to the committee first, before arranging to talk to the professor.
One day later, he was pleased that the decision had been unanimous, but he worried that he had over-sold the value Evanoff could be to their project. It mainly revolved around his relationship with a female researcher employed by the gangster Jelavich. Uri said that the main value of Evanoff was to get all of the information from her that the mobster was receiving. That was how to stay ahead. Uri was convinced the Evanoff would play ball, but it wouldn’t be for money.
In the early afternoon in Florida, it was growing late in Moscow. Evan’s secure phone rang. “Hello, Karina?”
“No, Dr. Evanoff, this is not Miss Chuikov. I’m calling from the states to discuss something with you.”
“Who is this?”
“In a moment, I will disclose everything, but first we need to discuss some things.”
“How did you get this number?”
“The man who gave you this phone, Uri, works for me. He was authorized to meet with you and advise us regarding your contribution to our project.”
“Who’s ‘us’ and what project?”
“I believe you are friends with Miss Karina Chuikov, is that correct?
“That’s really no one’s business.”
“Fair enough, I respect your feelings and have my own validation on this fact. So, you may know that she works for a dangerous man, a murderer and criminal of the worst kind in Russia.”
Evan wasn’t prepared to talk about Karina to a stranger. “You still haven’t told me who you are.”
There was a detectable hesitation, “My name is Peter Mikhailovich.”
“Never heard of you.” He was deliberately rude.
“I’m not surprised. If you were from southern Florida, you would see my company name on a lot of building projects.”
“So why are you interested in my work with Karina?”
“I’m part of a consortium of Russian financiers, people from the oldest linage in Russia, White Russian nobles if you will.”
“Is that why you called me, because my family has some distant connection?”
“No, that is purely coincidental, although I suspect it has something to do with your interest in Russian history.”
“Look, Mr. Mikhailovich, this is an interesting chat, but you still haven’t told me much.”
“Please, don’t be impatient, Dr. Evanoff, I think it’s important to have the full background. It could make a difference between life and death.”
“In that case, call me Evan. Sorry if I interrupted you.”
Mikhailovich told him the whole story about their reason for seeking the bullion. It had gained notoriety in the past few years with the revelations of state-sponsored exploration of the lake. He went on to explain that his compatriots didn’t really believe the stories about Kolchak’s gold trekking across the ice. They believed it went on with the train to Vladivostok, but there had to be an explanation about its disappearance after that. Evan agreed without saying it; he’d shared these same thoughts with Karina. “Anyway, Evan, we found that Gregori Jelavich financed another secret mission under the lake that found nothing.”
Evan commented, “I guess it wasn’t so secret then.”
“Please do not take the man lightly. We also learned recently that he murdered the submarine crew that failed.”
Evan was shocked, “Is that true! How do you know that?”
“My man, Uri, whom you know, has a firsthand account of the murders, and if you know anything of Jelavich’s methods, it should not surprise you.”
He thought of Karina, “So you say Karina Chuikov is in danger!”
“Most assuredly so. Actually, I would be more worried about myself if I were you. From what I’m told, you got too close, which he will not accept. You are probably only alive now because he is using it t
o force Miss Chuikov to work harder for him to find the gold. In the end, you are both dead.”
Evan was suddenly sick to his stomach, Peter asked, “Evan, are you there?”
“Yeah, yes I am, I was just thinking.”
“Good. So now, are you ready to listen to me?”
“Yes, go ahead.”
Fear
She was trembling under her calm façade. He continued, sitting behind the massive desk that gave him dominance over her, “How am I to believe you, Karina? I gave you instructions that you were not to be seeing your professor friend again.”
“I have not seen him, Gregor.”
He stared at her. He could not afford to misjudge her. Was she lying? “My dear, my men saw you rush to the Metro station last night. Where were you going?”
“I had a date. My private life is my own as I have told you.” Her words sounded braver than she felt.
“A date?” He was skeptical, “Who did you go to meet? I do not want you to lie to me.”
He was scolding her like a father and she resented it. She stood and turned toward the door. “This meeting is over.”
“Sit down!” He bellowed.
“She had a sudden rush of adrenalin, “Look Gregor, if you want my report, I will give it; my private life is none of your business!”
He didn’t tolerate insubordination, but he needed her mind focused on his project. He would deal with the other problem later. “All right, my dear. Sit and tell me what you have learned.”
She knew that she woke a poisonous snake that