John Doe on Her Doorstep. Debra Webb
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tried to start organizing things the day after he was buried, but she hadn’t gotten very far. Fierce emotions would keep her from returning to the task for days at a time. Now, it was finally finished. All that her father had been was now carefully stored away for safekeeping. She couldn’t bring herself to donate his clothing. Though he’d had elegant taste and there were surely people who could benefit from his wardrobe, she just couldn’t part with anything yet. As long as his things were here, it was as if he might somehow walk through the front door again. As if a part of him remained.
Dani stood in the middle of his study now and wondered if she could handle doing any part of this room today. The last time she’d tried, a couple of days ago, she’d ended up on a crying jag that lasted for hours. Firming her resolve, she surveyed the room. She couldn’t fathom any reason to disturb his books. Rich wood shelving lined three walls, leaving room only for the door, while windows that looked out over the grazing pastures, the big red barn right off the pages of a New England calendar and the evergreen mountains beyond lined the fourth. Everything was just as he’d left it.
The books, plaques and awards would stay as they were, she decided. She stared morosely at his antique mahogany desk and the framed photograph that held a place of honor there. She didn’t have to pick it up and look at it. She knew it well. It was the last picture taken of her mother. Dani had been ten. They’d gone fishing and she’d caught her first fish. Two days later, her mother was dead.
Fighting back the tears, Dani forced her attention back to the problem at hand. Sorting through his office. She would leave most everything, just not the files. Especially this file. She stared at the odd little electronic storage stick in her hand, still confused by what it contained. She’d never known him to use this sort of storage. The stick was about two inches long and looked like the ones used in digital cameras, which, when inserted into the right plug in one’s computer, held the downloaded images captured by the camera. Most of his files were stored on the usual disks and CDs and locked away safely in the basement. He’d ensured that his personal research files from his life’s work were properly safeguarded when he retired. Order had been her father’s middle name. Everything had its place. But this one file…it just didn’t make sense—in more ways than one.
After skirting the large desk, she settled into the soft leather chair and loaded it onto the computer. She’d retrieved it from its original hiding place and brought it into the office with her now to decide what to do with it. She scrolled through a couple of screens that were labeled the Eugenics Project. Like the ones in the basement vault it was encrypted and dated. But unlike the others, which corresponded with the early years of his career, the date on this one was recent. Why would her father have been working on another government program? He was retired. Maybe he’d been consulting? She supposed that was a possibility.
At the funeral, Mr. O’Riley, her father’s former director, had said that he hadn’t talked to him in months. And her father certainly wouldn’t have been discussing a top secret government program with anyone except those with proper clearance. And this project was clearly marked Top Secret. Even stranger, she’d found this odd little file hidden inside the vacuum cleaner. If she hadn’t thought the bag was full she would never have opened the canister and checked. The vault in the basement was for safekeeping his work and other personal documents, such as his will, the deed to the property, etc. Why hide this one in the vacuum cleaner, of all places? None of it made sense.
At first, she’d felt certain that he’d put the file there ages ago and forgotten about it. But the creation date on the file, as well as the day and time stamp on the single recorded call on the audiotape, indicated October second of this year, which negated that idea. The file had been stored in its unlikely hiding place the day before her father died. She hadn’t found it until three days ago when she’d gone on a cleaning frenzy. Dani had scanned a couple of screens and realized that the information was off limits. She hadn’t looked at it again until now—not that she could make head or tail of it anyway since it was encrypted. A couple of times she’d considered calling Mr. O’Riley, but for one reason or another she hadn’t gotten around to it.
The audiotape was a minicassette, like the ones used in the dinosaur of an answering machine right here on her father’s desk. Her father’s personal answering machine, as well as the wall phone in the kitchen, was far from the newest technology.
Dani dragged her fragmented thoughts away from the past and refocused on the tape. Knowing the cryptic call had come in the day before her father’s accident made her feel oddly uneasy. The man, whose voice she didn’t recognize, had sounded almost frantic. As if on autopilot she put the tape into the machine and pressed the play button to listen to it again now. She didn’t know why she tortured herself.
“Archer, call me ASAP. It’s extremely important. It’s about the Eugenics Project. I think we’re in trouble.”
The caller had left a number but no name. On impulse, Dani had called the number the first time she’d listened to the tape. She’d gotten a computerized voice mail requesting that she leave a message. She had. She’d informed the caller that her father had passed away, but that she had the file he’d called about if he still wanted it. She left her name and number and suggested that he call her back as soon as possible. After all, she did have a life to get back to, even if she had been putting off making her decision. She recognized that she couldn’t stay holed up here forever. It was well past time she finished with the task of settling her father’s affairs. And yet, she was still here…putting off what she realized with complete certainty she needed to do.
In the three days since she’d left the message, though, no one had returned her call about the file. Oddly, she’d immediately regretted making that call. The file was marked Top Secret…she wasn’t even supposed to have been looking at it. Her father had never involved her in his work. He wouldn’t want her involved in it now, but she’d felt compelled to settle all his affairs. She sighed. She didn’t want to let him down…not in any way. She hadn’t meant to violate security. She had no way of knowing if the caller was even cleared for viewing the file…but then, he’d called it by name. Maybe she was making this harder than it needed to be. She had a responsibility to settle her father’s affairs.
Dani picked up the receiver and entered the string of numbers again. The same computerized voice asked her to leave a message. She hung up.
I think we’re in trouble.
She’d worked hard not to tack too much significance to that statement. It might not mean anything. But why were the file and the tape hidden in such a manner? If her father hadn’t been consulting on a project, then what had he been doing? If she knew the caller’s name, that would help. The whole situation was too cloak-and-daggerish.
Dani shoved her fingers into her hair and massaged her aching skull. She did not want to think along those lines. Her father had been a loyal, highly respected civil servant. The sheer number of plaques and certificates in this very room attested to that. He was much loved by his counterparts. She had attended several social functions where he was the man of the hour. His research, though top secret, was, from all indications, unparalleled. She’d been there for his retirement party. Everybody had loved Daniel Archer. There was no reason to believe differently now.
I think we’re in trouble.
Why did her instincts have to start plaguing her now? Her father had died two weeks ago. If he’d been involved in anything risky, she would have known it by now. O’Riley would have told her.
What was she thinking? She gave herself a good mental scolding. If her father was involved in a government project, then it was on the up-and-up, end of subject.
Dani started to push away from the desk, but something in her peripheral vision snagged her attention. The final line of text on the screen. Termination. A frown tugged at her mouth. The information on the first few screens had been encrypted, but this part wasn’t. She scrolled down a little farther. She quickly read the text. It was a report by Joseph Marsh, an old colleague of her father’s. She vaguely recognized the name. Why hadn’t she looked this far before? She exhaled a weary breath. Because it had been marked Top Secret. Her father had