James Grippando - Found Money

It was dying. No way to save it. And Amy

Amy wished she could go back in time. Not way

Lazy swirls of orange, pink and purple hovered on the

It was still dark when Amy woke. The drapes were

Ryan spent the night in his old room, fading in

Amy took Monday morning off, arriving at the office during

Amy met Mr. Phelpss unrealistic three oclock deadline. She always

The kitchen smelled of corned beef and cabbage. So did

The Crock-Pot discovery had Amy in high gear. Just to

Were rich!

Two days had passed, and Amy was still working up

Ryan ate an early lunch on Friday and drove alone

Friday afternoon traffic was heavy as Amy reached Denver. She

From the Mile High City to the plains of southeastern

Stupid. That was how Amy felt. After all the mental

Ryan hung up, then froze. He heard a creak in

At 9:00 P.M., Amy had a date. With Taylor.

The money was burning. But only in his mind.

Panama. Until now, it had meant nothing to Ryan but

By midafternoon, Ryan could see the Denver skyline from the

On Sunday morning Amy called Ryan Duffy again. An elderly-sounding

Her truck was dying at the Sand Creek Massacre.

Ryan woke at 5:30 Monday morning, Mountain Time. He reset

Ryan Duffy, M.D., S.O.R.son of a rapist.

It took longer than Amy had expected to fix her

Ryan didnt call the police. Sure, hed been robbedrobbed of

The Boulder police arrived in minutes. Curious onlookers gathered outside

Ryan returned to the Banco del Istmo on Tuesday morning.

Amy drove to Denver on faith. She didnt actually have

At noon Ryan called Norm from the Panama City Marriott.

It was getting late on Colorados Front Range. Clouds drifted

From his hotel room late Tuesday night, Ryan called his

Ryan slept in his hotel room until noon. Hed been

They were out of lettuce. For nine straight days, Sarahs

Visiting hours at Denver Health Medical Center started at 7:00 P.M.

Amy had taken her daughter to Denver only a dozen

Ryans flight landed at Denver International Airport at 11:50 P.M.

On Thursday morning, Ryan was ready to call home. His

Amy arrived in Denver a few minutes early. Traffic out

Ryan didnt follow her out. Numbness took over, shutting out

Ryan sat in silence amidst a seventy-inch television screen and

Amy called Marilyn Gaslow at her home in Denver, but

Ryan stayed in the media room all night, studying the

At 10:00 A.M. Joseph Kozelka reached the K&G Building, a

The wait was going on two and a half hours.

Ryan went directly from K&G headquarters to Norms office. Norm

The courthouse on Saturday was like church on Monday. Row

The drive back to Norms house seemed to take forever.

Driving alone at night on Highway 287 was an exercise

Ryans pager chirped just north of Eads, about an hour

Ryan took the long way home, down the lonely gravel

A firm knock on the door landed just after dawn.

They had never found a suicide note. That had been

Ryan stopped for breakfast on the way home. After the

Sunday was a workday for the presidential appointee. Marilyn Gaslow

Liz slept late on Sunday. Shed had trouble falling asleep.

Marilyn lacked focus. That was the consensus opinion of her

Sheila was beginning to worry. Rusch wasnt happy with her

It was Amys first trip down Holling Street since the

Trumpets blared. Violins wept. Joe Kozelka was seated in a

Ryan reached Denver long after dark. Hed been thinking about

They returned to the Clover Leaf Apartments after ten oclock.

The wrought-iron gate at the end of Marilyns driveway was

Two minutes after they met, Ryan already had a name

They rode with the headlights off, invisible in the night,

Nathan Rusch was lying in wait. A cluster of gray

Nathan Rusch was angry, not about to be outrun by

Amy left before the police arrived. With Marilyns permission, she

Robert Oppenheimer, the voice boomed over the loudspeaker. A beaming

It was dying. No way to save it. And Amy Parkens watched with a childs fascination.

The night was perfect. No city lights, not even a moon to brighten the cloudless sky outside her bedroom window. Billions of stars blanketed the vast blackness of space. Her six-inch Newtonian reflector telescope was aimed at the Ring Nebula, a dying star in the constellation of Lyra. Amy liked that one best. It reminded her of the smoke rings her grand father used to blow with his cigara faint, grayish-green ring puffed into outer space. Death was slow in coming, over many millennia. It was irreversible. Astronomically speaking, the Ring Nebula was light-years beyond Geritol.

Amy peered through the eyepiece, pushing her hair aside. She was a tall and skinny eight-year-old with sandy-blonde bangs that dangled in her eyes. Shed often heard grown-ups say she was destined to be the Twiggy of the eighties, but that didnt interest her. Her interests were unlike those of most third graders. Television and video games bored her. She was used to spending time alone in the evenings, entertaining herself with books, celestial maps, her telescopethings her friends would have considered homework. She had never known her father. Hed been killed in Vietnam before Amy could even walk. She lived with her mom, a busy physics professor at the University of Colorado in Boulder. A passion for the stars was an inherited fascination. Long before her first telescope, Amy would look into the night sky and see much more than twinkling lights. By the time she was seven she could name every stellar constellation. Since then, shed even made some up and named them herselfdistant constellations, beyond the reach of even the worlds most powerful instruments but not beyond her imagination. Other kids might stare through telescopes all night long and never see Orion or Sirius, because the stars didnt line up exactly right for them. For Amy, it all made perfect sense.

Amy switched on her flashlight, the only light she needed in her small pink bedroom. With colored pencils she sketched out the Ring Nebula on her notepad, her own makeshift coloring book. She was the only kid in her class with no fear of the darkso long as her telescope was nearby.

Lights out, sweetie, her mother called from the hallway.

Lights are out, Mom.

You know what I mean.

The door opened, and her mother entered. She switched on the little lamp beside Amys bed. Amy squinted as her eyes adjusted to the faint yellow glow. Her mothers smile was warm but weak. Her eyes showed fatigue. Shed looked tired a lot lately. And worried. Over the last few days, Amy had noticed the change, had even asked what was wrong. Her mother would say only that it was nothing.

Amy had gotten ready for bed hours ago, well before the celestial sidetrack. She was dressed in her yellow summer pajamas, her face washed and teeth brushed. She climbed down from the chair and gave her mom a hug. Cant I stay up a little longer? Please?

No, honey. Its way past your bedtime.

Her face showed disappointment, but she was too tired to argue. She slid into bed. Her mother tucked her in beneath the sheets.

Tell me a story, then?

Mommys really tired tonight. Ill tell you one tomorrow.

Amy frowned, but it didnt last. A good one?