When Lightning Strikes

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Daniel shrugged. “At this point, everything we do will entail risk. What’s your plan?”

“I want to go to my office at the church. I did some of their bookkeeping, mostly balancing the modest funds in their operating budget, but maybe something there will trigger my memory.”

Daniel nodded slowly. “Yeah, that thought occurred to me too, but we can’t just walk in there. You’ll be recognized. The only way we can go is if I can come up with a really good disguise for both of us. Fortunately, I have some background in that. One of my summer jobs when I was in college was working for a film company that had come to New Mexico to shoot on location. With Silentman’s help, we can get the supplies we need together, and then get going.”

“What kind of disguise do you have in mind?” she asked, setting the control on the microwave to heat her soup.

He reached past her to set the machine on, then turned her to face him. “Let me surprise you.”

IT WAS SHORTLY AFTER TEN the next day when they approached the church on foot, leaving Wolf in the SUV. “Stoop more,” he said quietly.

She did as he asked, knowing it would enhance the role they were playing—that of an elderly couple. “You put so much talcum powder in my hair to make it gray that if anyone sneezes, a cloud will lift into the air,” she muttered.

“Good. A cloud is good. Think of it as a smoke screen.”

Her loose skirt was so baggy it would have fallen to her ankles if it hadn’t been for the cloth belt she’d fashioned from the curtain tie-backs. “I feel guilty about having taken this skirt from someone’s clothesline.”

“Don’t. I left a hundred-dollar bill clipped to the line. They’ll be thrilled.”

“Those baggy pants don’t do much for you,” she said, “but I’ve got to say that the way you’re walking, in that halting style with the cane, you really do look like an old man.”

“Which is why I keep telling you to imitate me. They won’t look at our faces, believe me. Even if they do, that dark makeup will convince them. Just look down to the floor, and avoid catching anyone’s eye. Two old Navajos just stopping by a church won’t be noticed.”

They entered through a side door, and she led the way down an empty hallway to her office. No one was usually around this wing of the building in the middle of a weekday. The staff all had day jobs. But, farther down the hall, they could hear a cleaning crew busy inside the chapel, polishing the floors.

“That’s just the caretaker and his wife,” she whispered. “They clean when no one’s around.”