Early March
Seated in her favorite chair near the bright picture window of her suburban Arlington, Virginia home, Ilene Sattler lowered her needlepoint to her lap and gazed worriedly at her daughter. Behind her, through the picture window, large snowflakes drifted silently toward the drifting snow already on the ground, but the beauty of the picturesque landscape was lost on the concerned woman.
Dressed in her typical cold weather attire of faded blue jeans, sneakers, and a sweatshirt, Ellie Sattler Degler stood beside the fireplace, her arm resting on the mantle as she stared despondently at the family portrait taken three months earlier, just prior to the tragic deaths of her husband and her two small children. Her hand was pressed to her forehead beneath her bangs, as if nursing a headache. There was no emotion on her face or in her formerly bright, cheerful blue eyes; only the distant, impassive gaze that resulted from immeasurable loss.
Ilene�s heart went out to her daughter. In the months following the car crash that had miraculously spared her, while claiming the lives of her entire family, Ellie�s body was healing of the physical injuries sustained in the accident, but her emotional state was considered precarious at best by the doctors who were treating her depression. Her joy of living had evaporated, leaving her heart as empty as the house in which she had lived with her family. Ilene found that as troubling as the physical injuries.
Upon her release from the hospital, Ellie had been physically and emotionally unable to care for herself, so her parents had insisted she stay with them until she was fully recovered from her injuries and from the trauma of her devastating loss. Ellie had not protested the suggestion. She was not interested enough in anything to reclaim any independence over her life, and besides, there was nothing for her at home except a house filled with physical reminders of her loss. She had moved back into her old bedroom in her childhood home, content to allow her parents to care for her.
The days turned into weeks, the weeks into months, and still Ellie�s depression consumed her. She tried to ignore the frequent, worried glances bestowed upon her by her mother and father, but despite her assurances that she would not do anything foolish, they were uneasy about her inability to recover her formerly sunny disposition, and worried that she might do something to harm herself. She tried to be cheerful, but her infrequent smiles were forced, and were offered merely to indulge those around her, whom she knew were desperately concerned about her. She expressed no enthusiasm over anything. She did not laugh, she did not cry. Occasionally, when thinking of her lost loved ones, she could feel the burning of tears that crowded behind her eyes, but she refused to release them in the soul-cleansing cry that Ilene felt she needed to help her recover her well-being.
As Ilene observed her daughter now, she noticed that her eyes were dry.
"Ellie, I�ve been thinking. Why don�t you sell that big house and continue to stay with us for awhile," Ilene suggested. "We�ve enjoyed having you home again, and that house is really too big for one person, anyway. When you�re ready to be on your own again, we could help you find something smaller."
Ellie lifted her shoulders in a disinterested shrug. She knew her parents wanted to keep an eye on her. "I�ll think about it."
Ilene�s forehead puckered in a troubled frown. She knew Ellie would not think about it at all. After a moment, she tried again to interest her daughter in something. "I have an idea. Why don�t you and I go see a show this afternoon?"
Ellie turned her head to look at her, fixing those opaque blue eyes upon her in a dispassionate gaze. "There�s nothing on that looks good," she replied with a sigh.
Ilene knew her daughter didn�t even know what was playing. She had not seen a review on television nor read the newspaper since coming to stay with them. "Then why don�t the three of us go out to dinner this evening? Your father was telling me about a new place downtown ----"
"I�m not very hungry."
In despair, Ilene set her needlepoint on the table beside her, no longer interested in the stitching that usually gave her pleasure. With critical eyes, she gazed at her daughter�s emaciated figure. Ellie was not eating properly, and had grown extremely thin, almost gaunt. Moving to her daughter�s side, she brushed back a lock of blonde hair that hung over the grieving woman�s forehead. "Honey, you�re growing thin. You�re not eating properly."
Ellie shifted her eyes from the portrait to look at her mother. Forcing the corners of her lips upward, she managed a weak smile. "I know you�re worried, Mom, but I just don�t have much of an appetite anymore."
"Well, that�s understandable after the loss you�ve suffered, but Ellie, dear, you must eat to survive. Mark and the children would not want you to ruin your health like this."
Ellie lowered her eyes, as if ashamed. "I know what you�re trying to do, and I appreciate it; I really do," she replied, patiently. "I just have to work through this myself."
"Sometimes, it isn�t good to try to work through them on your own. I think maybe I should phone Doctor Collins. There must be something he can do to make you feel better."
Ellie knew that would mean more sessions with the psychiatrist and more of those pills he had prescribed. "There�s nothing he can do for me," Ellie stated. She sighed, again, and returned her gaze to the portrait. "I just need something to do, something to keep me from thinking about all this."
"That is my thought, dear, but I can�t seem to interest you in anything. What is it you want to do?"
Ellie sighed. "I don�t know."
"Just name it, dear. Anything at all, and we�ll do it. Perhaps a vacation? We could drive up to New York City and do some shopping and sightseeing. How does that sound?"
"Whatever you want to do, Mom."
Tears of frustration stung in Ilene�s eyes. "Not what I want to do, Ellie. We�re trying to figure out something that you want to do."
"I feel like there�s something I need to be doing, but I don�t know what it is." Pushing herself away from the fireplace, Ellie paced slowly around the room, almost as if searching for something she had lost, something she needed to recover. Briefly, she paused at the large parrot cage on which her Amazon Parrot stood stretching his brightly colored wings. She scratched his feathered head, and offered him a raison, then continued her wandering. "I need to take more flowers out to the cemetery," she said.
Ilene�s gaze was worried. Ellie spent way too much time at the cemetery, standing on the snow covered ground, staring at the grave stones that marked her family�s births and deaths, as if unable to comprehend that they were actually dead. "It�s snowing, Ellie. We�ll go out in the spring."
Ellie did not seem to hear. Finally, at the bookcase, she stopped and, for the first time in over three months, a spark of interest flickered in her eyes. On a center shelf, used as a bookend, was a fist-sized slab of stone, which displayed the imprint of an ancient fern.
Reaching out, she picked up the fossil, ignoring the books that toppled over, and turned the stone in her hand to examine it with the skilled gaze of a renowned paleobotanist.
"I never noticed that you still had this," she said, her fingertips tracing the rough imprint of the ancient plant.
Ilene nodded. "Your father likes it."
Ilene�s brother had turned up the fossil twenty years earlier while digging a pond on his ranch in Wyoming. He had given it to his young niece, who had been fascinated by the object. That single encounter with a remnant from the ancient world had cultivated Ellie�s lifelong interest in paleobotany, resulting in a degree in that field. Eventually, she had joined an enthusiastic paleontologist at his dig site in Montana, and had spent the following years helping him extract the ancient history of the world from the fossil records.
A personal relationship had developed between her and the dinosaur expert that had lasted until five years ago, when they had unexpectedly parted company. Ellie had returned home, married Mark Degler, and started the family she had always wanted. She had seemed content in her role as housewife and mother, but Ilene knew that her past life and her past love still crept into her mind.
"I didn�t realize how much I missed it." The hint of a genuine smile played around the corners of her mouth for the first time as pleasant memories replaced the painful ones that had haunted her for the past three months.
Although pleased to see her daughter unpredictably express interest in something, seeing her return to her old life was not the future in which Ilene preferred to see her engage. It meant long hours in the field, digging in a hot, dirty environment to extract fossils from the earth. It might provide temporary pleasure, but she was certain it would eventually lead to more heartache. She suspected Ellie�s restlessness lay in part to the charismatic paleontologist, a man and a love that she had never quite managed to put behind her. "Ellie, that part of your life is over. Maybe it�s best just to leave it be."
Ellie did not seem to hear. Her entire attention was focused on the rock she held in her hand, but although she was looking at the object, she was not really seeing it. Instead, she was seeing the face of another man, the man she had left behind five years ago. Her mother�s suspicions were confirmed when Ellie said, softly, "I wonder what he�s doing?"
"It doesn�t concern you," Ilene told her quickly. "He made his choices, and you made yours. Those choices have taken you in opposite directions."
Ellie gazed out the window at the snow that blanketed the ground. It had been snowing all day, and large, fluffy flakes still floated toward the ground from the gray sky. "It�s still winter. He�s probably in class or in the lab."
"Ellie, you know I was fond of Alan, but your father believes there is no future in paleontology anymore, especially since the existence of those two islands became public. If anyone wants to know anything about dinosaurs, they�ll just go down there and study them. There�s no longer a need to dig up their bones."
Ellie was shaking her head in apparent disagreement as her mother spoke. "Alan doesn�t agree. He says ----"
"It really doesn�t matter whether he agrees or not, dear. Public opinion is what will determine whether or not he has to choose a new career. If there is no market for the bones, then what is the point of digging them up?"
Ellie knew that was true, and she was saddened by it. "I can�t imagine him doing anything else."
"He may have to. We all have to adapt to changes. I know you don�t like it when I preach to you, but God does not give us more than we can bear."
Ellie knew there was message for her in her mother�s choice of words. She was telling her that it was time to put her grief behind her and move on with her life. She gazed at the rock, realizing that there were options left in her life. Perhaps her mother was right. Maybe it was time to take that first step.
She pushed the fallen books upright again, and replaced the fossil on the shelf. She paused, briefly, nibbling her lower lip as she pondered the idea that had crept into her mind. "Mom, what would you think about me returning to work again?"
Ilene�s heart plummeted. By work, she knew what Ellie was referring to, but she felt no enthusiasm about it. Ellie was the widow of a government employee who had come from a prominent family. It would not be appropriate for her to return to her previous life. "Ellie, honey, your husband was a prominent government employee with a good pension and a good insurance policy. You have no need to go back to work. You have a position to maintain."
Mark�s death had left her a wealthy widow, but having money did not seem important. "My husband is dead, my children are dead, and the money means nothing."
"What about the friends you made in your mother in law�s social circle? Perhaps you could --"
"I have no friends in Tiffany�s social circle. They viewed me as inferior."
"Oh, I�m sure that isn�t true."
"It is, Mother. They all looked down their noses at me and talked behind my back."
"Well, going to work certainly won�t improve matters."
"I don�t like any of them, anyway. I�d rather work than be associated with any of them, and that includes Tiffany. She hasn�t once called me since I got out of the hospital."
"She�s grieving for her son, dear," Ilene reminded her, gently.
Ellie gave a short laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Yeah, right. She�s so broken up by her son�s death that she�s taking an extended vacation to Paris."
"Some people deal with grief differently than others. She probably figured a change of scenery would do her some good. It would probably be good for you, too."
"Working would accomplish that."
"I still don�t think that would be a good idea. You�ve just suffered a devastating loss and a debilitating injury. You need to rest and recover."
"I�ve been resting and recovering for three months. I need to be busy, so I won�t have so much time to think. I�m tired of staring at these walls and thinking about what happened. I need something to do. I�m thinking maybe he would let me work with him again for awhile."
Ilene felt her heart jerk with dread. "It�s been a long time since you�re worked in that field, Ellie. I have a better idea. Perhaps your father could let you do some filing or something at the office," Ilene suggested, hastily.
"Filing?" Ellie looked at her incredulously, offended by the suggestion, knowing it was offered as a means for her father to keep an eye on her. "I don�t want to file! I have a degree in paleobotany. I want to be out in the field doing what I�ve always been interested in, what I know I�m good at!"
Ilene observed her closely for several moments, then asked, quietly, "Is that the real reason?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean there are plenty of paleontologists you could work with. With your credentials, you could even apply at the Museum of Natural History in Washington. Why does it have to be with him?"
"Because he�s the best!" Ellie told her, then paused as the realization soaked in. "It isn�t so much that you don�t want me to work in paleobotany, is it? You don�t want me to work with Alan." When her mother failed to respond to the direct question, she asked, "Why? A moment ago you said you were fond of him. Why would it bother you for me to work with him again?"
Ilene leveled an astute gaze at her daughter. "You still have unresolved feelings for him, Ellie."
"What?" Ellie exclaimed, indignantly. "That�s ridiculous! Alan and I are good friends."
"You�re more than just good friends, Ellie," she stated, perceptively. "I know you two were lovers ----"
"Mother, please!" Ellie exclaimed, impatiently, uncomfortable with the notion of discussing her private life with her mother. "This is totally irrelevant."
"You can�t deny it, Ellie, and it is relevant. Once you�ve crossed the line from friends to lovers, you can never go back to being just friends. The past always gets in the way." Ilene hesitated with a guilty expression, then said, "I saw the clipping you carry in your purse."
Ellie�s eyes flashed with surprise and resentment. "You went through my purse?"
"I was looking for a phone number so I could call Mark�s friend at the office. You were still unconscious and Mark�s family was distraught over his death. Someone had to do it. The point is, you still care more deeply for him than you should. I just don�t want to see you hurt again."
Ellie�s eyes darted to the portrait of her family on the mantle, irresistibly drawn to it, then returned her gaze to her mother�s face. "Nothing could hurt worse than this, Mom. Besides, Alan didn�t mean to hurt me. He�s just dedicated to his work."
"So dedicated that your needs and feelings didn�t enter into his thinking," Ilene retorted, accusingly.
"His research is important. Besides, we�re friends," she insisted, again. "He even stopped by the house last summer to visit for awhile with Mark and me. As a friend."
"And I dare say you haven�t been quite the same since."
"That�s ridiculous."
"Is it? Before his visit, you talked about him more than is natural for a married woman, but afterward, it seemed he was on your mind all the time. I can only imagine how Mark must have felt."
A guilty twinge in her heart caused Ellie to flinch. She knew she had been talking about Alan a lot, but she didn�t realize it was excessive enough that others had noticed. "I guess I was a little excited over the research he told me about. He was describing some new theories he has on communications between velociraptors."
"Poor Mark must have been bored to tears!"
"He never complained."
"He wouldn�t, would he? He wasn�t the type who would speak of it, but I�m certain he must have worried that your feelings for Alan would become a threat to his marriage."
"Alan wasn�t a threat to our marriage! Mother, Mark knew there wasn�t anything going on between Alan and me."
"There may not have physically been anything going on, but I dare say the feelings were there, and that could have been very dangerous if Alan�s visit had been any longer!"
Ellie looked startled. "Mother, are you accusing me of attempting to ignite a relationship with Alan while I was married to Mark?"
Ilene raised her hand abruptly, cutting her off before she could complete the sentence. Ellie was showing more interest in this conversation than she had shown in anything since the accident. It wasn�t fair to badger her with unsubstantiated accusations. She checked her temper and continued. "No. I know the feelings are there, but I�m not accusing you of being unfaithful. I know you loved Mark, and to Alan�s credit, he kept his distance throughout your marriage, but Ellie, please think about this. You wrote Alan a letter from the hospital, and he never bothered to write you back. You left messages at the University and the museum, and he never called you back. You were seriously injured. You could have died, and he didn�t care enough to see how you were doing. Doesn�t that tell you something?"
That stung. She lowered her gaze, feeling as if a pan of ice water had been thrown on her, extinguishing her enthusiasm. Still, even with the evidence presented by her mother, Ellie refused to believe that Alan cared so little for her that her life would be insignificant to him. "There had to have been a reason. Maybe the letter got lost. The receptionist was a temp. She might have forgotten to give him the messages."
"Ellie, stop defending him!" Ilene snapped, impatiently.
"I�m not defending him, but there must have been a reason. Alan cares about me. I know he wouldn�t ignore me like that."
"His actions suggest otherwise. Ellie, you�re vulnerable, right now. You�re not thinking clearly. Becoming involved with that man again would only complicate things."
"I�m not getting involved with him, again. I just want to work with him for a while until I decide what I want to do, where I want to go from here. Mom, my whole life was centered around my family, and I don�t have that any more. I feel like the rug has been pulled out from under me."
"That is exactly why you should stay here! Ellie, honey, don�t take this the wrong way, but I think we should enroll you in therapy. It will help you cope with everything you�ve loss, and perhaps help you sort out your feelings for Alan."
"My work will be my therapy." Ellie insisted. "You have no idea how much I�ve missed it. It�s exactly what I need."
Ilene�s expression softened. "I know it�s been difficult for you, but I just don�t think this is the answer."
Ellie did not seem to hear. The decision made, she lifted the telephone and sat down in the nearest chair. "It�s one o�clock here, so it�ll be eleven there. He won�t break for lunch until noon, but I can leave a message for him to call me."
"Ellie, please don�t do this," Ilene pleaded, even though she knew the attempt was futile. Ellie had always been headstrong.
"Don�t worry. I�ll pay for the call."
"That isn�t what I meant. He didn�t answer your other messages. Why do you think he would answer this one?"
"If he doesn�t, then I�ll keep calling until he does." Ellie dialed the phone number for the University of Montana, at which Alan was professor of paleontology. When it was answered, she said, "I need to leave a message for Dr. Grant to call me when he breaks for lunch."
"I�m sorry, ma�am," the receptionist replied. "Professor Grant is taking an extended sabbatical from teaching."
A frown creased Ellie's brow. That didn't sound like Alan! "A sabbatical?" she repeated. "Do you know where he is, where I might get in touch with him?"
"You might see if he�s at the Museum of the Rockies. He may be doing some research there. Do you have that number?"
"Yes, I have it. Thank you," Ellie said, then hung up the phone, thinking it peculiar that Alan had apparently decided to take some time away from his professorship. She dialed the number to the museum.
After three rings, the receptionist answered. This time, it was a familiar voice. "Museum of the Rockies. This is Peggy. How may I direct your call?"
"Hi, Peg. This is Ellie. Ellie Sattler."
The voice on the other end of the line became animated with recognition. "Ellie! It�s been a long time! How have you been?"
"Coping," she replied, assuming that Alan had told her about the tragedy.
"Dr. Grant said you had gotten married."
Ellie�s surprised pause was barely perceptible. Obviously, Peggy didn�t know about the accident or she would not have mentioned the marriage. Apparently, Alan had kept the information to himself. "Yes, I did."
Peggy�s sigh was wistful. "I have to say, I always thought you would marry Alan. I always thought you two were such a great looking couple."
So did I. "Well, it just didn�t work out that way. Is he there?"
A slight pause ensued before Peggy asked, "You mean Dr. Grant?"
"Yes."
"Why, no, he isn�t," Peggy replied. Her voice indicated surprise that Ellie had asked. "Ellie, didn�t you know? He�s no longer associated with the museum or the university, at least as far as I know."
Now it was Ellie�s turn to be surprised. "No, I didn�t know. I haven�t talked to him since last June. Where is he? I�d like to talk to him about something."
"The truth is, I don�t know, Ellie. He left us last August."
"Seven months? What happened? Why did he leave?"
"I really don�t know, but it was sudden, I can tell you that. We�re all curious, but the museum curators won�t tell us a thing! One day he was here, the next he wasn�t. We haven�t heard from him since. He hasn�t even called for the messages on his voice mail or picked up the mail that came in after he left. We just sent them over to his house, but he never acknowledged receiving them. It�s like he just dropped off the face of the earth."
An inexplicable chill shivered down Ellie�s spine, a sensation of intense, overpowering foreboding. Something is wrong!
"Maybe he�s on a dig site, or something," Peggy suggested, breaking the sudden silence that had fallen over Ellie�s end of the conversation.
"Peggy, its March. The ground is frozen solid."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "Have you tried his house?" Peggy asked.
"Not yet, but I�ll try there next."
"I hope you find him."
Ellie hung up the phone, then dialed Alan�s home phone number, a number she had not called in a long time, but one that she still remembered. After six rings, a recording came on the line:
We�re sorry. The number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please hang up and dial again.
Slowly, a pensive frown on her face, Ellie replaced the phone on its cradle, then stared at it for a long moment, absorbing the possible ramifications of the news she had been given. Alan loved his profession, and he was proud of his accomplishments in the field of paleontology. If he had resigned his position at both the university and the museum, it must be the result of something catastrophic in his life.
Ilene had been listening to the conversation, puzzled by the worried expression on her daughter�s face. "What�s wrong?"
Ellie looked up, as if startled by the realization that her mother was with her. "Alan is no longer employed at the museum or the university."
"Did they say why?" Ilene asked with less concern than her daughter. If he was no longer working in the field, then Ellie would be unable to join him.
"No. Something must have happened, though."
"Honey, you mustn�t jump to conclusions. He�s probably just reaching the conclusion that paleontology is a lost art. He�s probably just moved on to something else."
Ellie was shaking her head negatively as her mother was speaking. "If Alan is doing something else, you can bet it�s something that involves dinosaurs. It�s what he�s worked toward his entire life." The idea came to her with such dizzying impact that she groped for the edge of her chair to steady herself. "Oh, no!" she breathed. "He wouldn�t! He said he�d never go back there!"
Ilene was not following the direction of her daughter�s thoughts. "Ellie, what are you talking about?"
"I have to find out for sure," Ellie said, distractedly.
She stood up abruptly and hurried down the hall to her bedroom, returning a few moments later with her purse and car keys.
"Where are you going?"
"I�m going to talk to Kevin Buchanan at the State Department. I think Alan may have done something foolish."
"Ellie, the State Department is too busy to track down personal friends."
"Mother, I think Alan may have gone back to one of the islands."
"You don�t have any evidence that he�s gone back there. Didn�t he say he�d never go back there?"
"He didn�t intend to go back last summer, but he did. He�s not at the university, he�s not at the museum, and he�s not at home. I got a recording when I called his home stating that his phone has been disconnected. He would only disconnect his phone is he intended to be away for an extended amount of time, or if something happened and he didn�t pay his phone bill. Regardless of where he is, something is wrong. I don�t care what it takes, I will find him!"
With more determination on her face than Ilene had seen in months, Ellie hurried out the door and drove away in her car.
Go to Chapter 2