CHAPTER 2 – SATURDAY
Amelia Marie Wainwright's alarm clock woke her up at 8:00 Saturday morning. Her thoughts went back to the handsome, very tall, young man she had met and danced with the night before. Remembering made her smile. The evening had been quite enjoyable after meeting Bobby. He loved to dance and was quite good at it, dipping and twirling her around the dance floor; they enjoyed sitting at a table and chatting together. She had been sad when the evening ended, and pleased that he had asked her out for Saturday night.
She got up and went into the bathroom. Saturday was her favorite day of the week and she quickly showered and dressed, and went downstairs for breakfast with her parents. As she went down the stairs, she paused to look at the picture of her and her Grandpa AJ that hung on the wall in the landing. She gently touched the picture and smiled, then continued on her way.
Amy's grandfather was Adam Jefferson Wainwright, Senior, a billionaire industrialist and Manhattan philanthropist who loved the Metropolitan Museum of Art, fine wine and Amy's grandmother Amelia. Adam and Amelia divided their time between Manhattan and their enormous Wainwright Estate in Utica, New York. Amy spent her summers and vacations with Grampa AJ and Mama A surrounded by wealth and luxury. Saturday visits to the Met were usually followed by Sundays up in Utica. The stability her grandparents had given her was a nice balance to the nomadic life of a military family.
Not just any military family, Amy thought. MY daddy is a general. And now she was spending her summer in Heidelberg, Germany, at the base where her daddy was in charge. Hopefully, things would be different this time, she prayed. Being the daughter of high ranking officer had its good points and bad points. The good points were being treated nicely and respectfully all the time. The bad points were not knowing if you were being treated nicely because they liked you, or nicely because of who your father was. Boys either wanted to date her to score points with their friends or score points with her father.
She spent a nice morning with her parents, chatting over breakfast and helping her dad in the garden. Then she cleaned up and headed into town.
"So, spill," insisted Kelly. Amy, Kelly and Susan were sitting in their favorite lunch spot in downtown Heidelberg for their usually Saturday "girls' lunch", a tradition going all the way back to 8th grade and Foot Hood, Texas, where the three girls had met and become fast friends.
"Well," said Amy, as she shifted in her seat. "He's nice, very sweet….he's from New York City. Oh, and he's taller than me. "
"That's great," commented Kelly. She understood the trials Amy had had in the past with her height and dating.
"He's cute, too," giggled Susan.
Amy rolled her eyes; Susan had always been more interested in looks than substance. "We had fun," she said, intending to leave it at that. "Why did ya'll leave so early?"
"As if you didn't know," said Kelly.
Amy looked pointedly at her. "You left early because of ME? Honestly, you two! It's only been 3 months, not 3 years!"
Amy had fallen hard for Roger Dent, a fellow classmate of hers at Texas A&M, where she was studying History and Literature. They had met on the first day of classes and been inseparable. Everyone expected them to get married until Amy discovered back in February that Roger was cheating on her – with HIS roommate! Amy managed to salvage the rest of her spring semester and couldn't wait to take her parents up on their offer to spend her summer break in Germany. As her flight had taken off last week, all of Amy's troubles seemed to fall away with the ground below her, and a summer full of nothing as vast as the horizon before her eased her mind and soothed her soul.
The flight over had also given Amy time to reflect. The last three years at A&M had been good to her. No one there seemed to mind that she was an heiress; everyone she knew at A&M was too busy studying and enjoying college life to pay much attention to the size of your bank account or who your granddaddy was. It had made Amy happy to just be Amy and not Amy Wainwright, AJ Wainwright's granddaughter. She had adapted well and enjoyed the relative anonymity at college and the time away from the elite social scene of New York, where her last name opened doors and her face was easily recognized.
"Well, he certainly seemed interested in you. He couldn't take his eyes off you the whole time," commented Susan. "Or, hadn't you noticed?"
She HAD noticed, and that was a problem. Her plan had been to come stay with her folks, work in the PX and spend all her free time hanging out with Susan and Kelly. She wasn't about to let anything or anyone, for that matter, change that.
"Did he kiss you," asked Kelly, interrupting Amy's thoughts.
"Wha…? No! He was a perfect gentleman. Great dancer, too," replied Amy.
"Uh-hunh," said Susan. "Look at her Kelly, she's a goner." Kelly and Susan nodded in agreement.
"I am not!"
"Oh, Amy, you are, too! And what could it hurt? I mean, really, just see the guy while you're here; we're not saying you have to marry him. Just hang out with him. It'll be good for you. Get your mind off Roger and……Oh, Amy, I'm sorry!" Susan tried to back-peddle, but Amy silenced her with a look.
"I'll be OK," said Amy, stone faced. "Really. Oh, look! Our food is here."
The rest of the meal passed quickly; Susan and Kelly caught Amy up on all the exploits of University life in Switzerland, and worked hard to convince her to drop out of A&M and join them in Europe.
"Does he know who you are," Kelly asked over dessert.
Amy sighed; she was tired of her last name, tired of it being a problem, tired of it messing up her life. "No, we didn't exchange last names. I know his is "Goren", though. It was on his uniform."
"Are you sure not telling him your last name was the right thing to do," questioned Susan. "Especially since he's from New York……."
Inwardly, Amy cringed, knowing deep down that Susan and Amy were right. Bobby should know, and she decided to tell him tonight. And hope for the best, she thought.
"I'll tell him tonight," she stated.
"Tonight," Kelly and Susan said together.
"What's tonight," Susan wondered.
"Movie night," Amy replied simply. She gathered up her trash, stood and started for the exit, Susan and Kelly hot on her heels.
"Goren," he mumbled as he rolled over, phone cradled to his ear. Bobby's Saturday had not started off as well as Amy's. He had been drowning in a pair of pretty blue eyes, a wonderful dream from which he had been rudely awakened by an early morning phone call.
"We got him," said Williamson. Ted Williamson was another member of the CID in Seckenheim, Germany, where Bobby was deployed. "Just like you figured. He's waiting in the holding cell. The Captain says you should have the honors of interrogating him since you figured out where he would be."
"OK, I'll be in as soon as I can. Thank you," said Bobby. He hung up the phone, rolled over onto his back, hands behind his head, and sighed up at the ceiling.
CID, the Army's Criminal Investigation Division, was the perfect fit for Robert "Bobby" Goren. His high intelligence and unique ability to read people and their behavior made him a natural. The CID was an elite military police unit of less than 2,000 soldiers that handled only the most serious of felony offenses and sensitive investigations inside the Army, and his unit appreciated and highly valued his skills and abilities. He was challenged by his CID work and thoroughly enjoyed getting inside suspects' heads and solving puzzles.
"Might as well get up; don't want to keep my suspect waiting," he said to himself.
Bobby rolled his long frame out of bed, and headed for the bathroom. A flash of blue on the bathroom counter caught his eye and made him think of Amy. Amy. Wow. He never expected to meet someone like her last night, certainly not at a USO dance. She was class and beauty, and he felt slightly out of his league with her, yet intrigued enough to want more. She was funny and bright and so easy to be with. He had found himself disappointed when the evening came to an end, and pleasantly surprised when she agreed to see him again tonight.
He had walked her to her car and asked for her phone number, when she stopped him.
"I'll meet you there," she stated, as she got into her car. They had decided on a movie at a local movie theatre, neither one interested in spending this date surrounded by soldiers at the post cinema.
"Can I call you tomorrow," Bobby leaned down and looked into her window.
"I'll meet you there," she re-stated, firmer this time. Then she flashed him a huge smile. "Trust me," she said.
Bobby stood back in amazement as she started her car and drove away. This was going to be a very interesting summer.
The hot shower combined with the urgent need for coffee and breakfast broke Bobby out of his reverie. He smiled as he finished getting himself ready to go in to the office. Once there, the group
made short work of the suspect, having plenty of evidence to easily convince the man that it was over. Satisfied with the work they had done, the men started making plans for that evening.
"Come have a drink with us," Ted said to Bobby.
"No, thank you, I have plans," Bobby said casually.
"He met someone last night," said Mark Dickson. "Big blue eyes, gorgeous smile, and mile-long legs."
Bobby looked quickly over at Mark in shock.
"Yeah, man, we noticed," Mark chuckled. "You made out better than we did. Her friends were really cute. You think they'd be interested in any of us?"
Bobby laughed at the good natured ribbing he was getting. "I don't know, man. I didn't find out if they like cops or not."
Bobby pulled into the parking lot across from the movie theater that evening and parked his car. As he headed for the sidewalk, he began to scan the crowd gathering outside the theater. He had almost given up when he felt a hand on his arm.
"Hi!" she said pertly. "I told you I'd be here."
Bobby turned to find himself staring once again into the blue eyes that had haunted his thoughts most of the day.
"And here you are," he said. "Shall we go," he asked as he offered her his arm.
"Why not," she replied with a laugh, as she took his arm and fell in step beside him.
They had chosen the movie "Airplane!" Both had seen it before, but not with German voices dubbed in and English subtitles at the bottom of the picture. It had made a funny movie even funnier and they had laughed hysterically throughout, enjoying both the movie and each other's company.
Afterward, they stopped at a coffee shop for more conversation. Bobby took the lead, telling her about his work with the CID and growing up in Brooklyn.
"I do have one big problem, though," he mentioned casually as they neared the end of their coffee.
"What's that," Amy wondered out loud, looking at him over the rim of her mug.
"I don't have your phone number. How do I get in touch with you without your phone number? Heck, I don't even know your last name, for that matter. I wanted to look up your number when I was in the office this morning, and realized I don't know your last name."
Amy put down her mug firmly on the table. "Promise you won't get upset."
"What?" Bobby's mouth suddenly went dry at the seriousness of Amy's expression and concern began to grow in the pit of his stomach.
"Promise," she insisted.
Bobby cocked his head to one side and raised his eyebrow, but said nothing.
"Bobby, this is important. Please, promise me you won't get mad," Amy insisted.
"Oh-kaaaay. I promise," Bobby said, albeit slightly unsure what this was all about. Her behavior made him very nervous and suddenly he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to his question.
"Wainwright." Amy looked firmly into his eyes. "My last name is Wainwright."
Bobby returned her gaze equally as firmly. "And that's supposed to mean, what, exactly?"
"General Adam Wainwright. My dad is General Adam Wainwright."
Bobby didn't know he was holding his breath until he let it out with a short laugh. "Oh. Is that all? I thought you were going to say your dad was the President of the United States, or a serial killer, not the head of the Heidelberg installations."
Amy stared at Bobby. "You mean it doesn't matter to you?"
"Amy, I work in Mannheim. CID isn't under your father's command. I don't answer directly to him. I might, if there's an investigation involving anyone under him, but we don't cross paths. You have nothing to worry about. Besides, the Army is just a means to an end for me. I want to go into law enforcement after my time in the service. I want to be on the NYPD."
Amy relaxed then, feeling as though a huge weight had just been lifted from her shoulders.
After coffee, Bobby drove her back to her car and saw her safely to the door. As she slid into her seat, Bobby leaned down to give her a kiss. She stopped him with a finger to his lips, and a soft look on her face. "Not so fast, officer," she told him. "Maybe next time. You do have my phone number now. I had a nice time. Thank you."
She pulled out of the parking spot and drove away, her "Good night, Bobby" ringing in his ears as he stared after her.