As I was nearing the end of my speech, my eyes went to the very back of the sanctuary, where I spotted a woman sitting all by herself in the last row. I looked a little bit closer and suddenly stumbled over my words. Greta Malone. She had on black sunglasses and a black wrap around her head, but I was sure it was her. Why was she here? Would she stay around so I could finally talk to her? I tried to find my place in my speech again. As if sensing me staring right at her, Greta stood, slipped out of the row, and headed to the back exit. I cursed to myself. I couldn’t let her walk away. I had to get off the stage right now and go after her.
I cleared my throat, tried to force myself to look really sad, and abruptly ended my speech with, “I love you, Joe. Thank you.” Then I left the podium. Instead of returning to my seat next to Taylor, I slipped by Pastor Larsen and found a side exit from the sanctuary. Now out of view, I bolted up the hallway to the front of the church building. Finding a door to the outside, I pushed it open and spilled into an outer courtyard. I looked left and right, trying to find the blonde woman on the sidewalk in front of the sanctuary. But I didn’t spot her anywhere. I sprinted forward, followed the sidewalk to the right, where there was a parking lot next to a secondary building. I hustled around to the lot and then paused, looking for any signs of Greta. Where did she go?
I began running through the lot, searching cars, wondering if she could be sitting inside any of them. Not having any luck in the parking lot, I circled the entire church block to see if she’d left on foot. I peered up and down the sidewalk. Cursing, I spun around, couldn’t find her anywhere. She had disappeared on me again.
I was sweating something fierce, running around in the hot sun in my business suit. I knew I had to get back inside the sanctuary. Taylor would be wondering what the hell I was doing. I had to be with my wife right now. Moments later, I walked back into the sanctuary and waited until they were singing another hymn before rejoining my family. Taylor gave me another look of concern. I forced a smile to let her know I was fine.
But I was not fine. My already unstable world had just been completely flipped upside down. If Joe might still be alive, I felt more committed than ever to talking with Greta—even if it meant flying back to DC tonight and staking out every campaign event. The woman had answers. And I sure as hell was going to get them.
THIRTY-FOUR
The reception after Joe’s service was a complete blur to me. I did my best to engage people on some level, but I was completely checked out. I kept excusing myself every few minutes to find a corner where I could privately look at my phone. I’d sent a half dozen text messages to the same phone number in Mexico City but still had not received any response. At this point, I doubted I would. I felt caught in an emotional tug-of-war. On one side, my head said it was impossible that Joe was still alive. Someone was just messing with me. Someone who didn’t want the truth exposed. Could it be Greta? The CIA? On the other side, my heart was begging for it to be true. If Joe was still alive, what should I do? He was telling me I was putting my family in danger. That I should stop my search for answers and let him go.
Could I really do that?
When all the hugs and condolences were finally finished, we climbed back into my Tahoe as a family and drove home. The girls raced up to their bedroom to change clothes and prepare to go to the lake house. The luggage was all packed. All I had to do was get my family turned around quickly and back out on the road. I was eager to do that so I could come up with my own next steps.
Taylor and I returned to our master closet and began changing.
“What happened to you up there?” she asked me.
“I just lost my composure a bit.” I knew she would ask me about it. “So rather than break down crying, which I didn’t really want the girls to see, I decided to cut my talk short and go gather myself.”
“You did really good, babe. My dad would’ve appreciated it.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s hard to believe it’s really time to move on now.”
“Yeah. I know.”
It’s all I could think to say. There was no way I could tell Taylor that her dad might still be alive right now. I had no idea if it was actually true. The only path forward was more and more lies. I felt like I had built a fortress around me and wasn’t sure how I’d ever find my way out. Would it ever end?
“Mom was pleased,” Taylor added. “I could tell.”
“She told me she loved the video.”
“Yeah, she wants to watch it again at the lake house tonight.”