Pt. V: The Good Doctor
Brett Sanderson had anticipated some difficulty in persuading Caitlin Cornplanter, Ph.D., to accompany him to Las Vegas and meet with Jack Davis. He couldn't have been more wrong about the good doctor's enthusiasm for the endeavor.
"First, Brett, call me Caitlin," she interrupted when they spoke for the first time on the phone. "Second, I am already somewhat familiar with the matters of which you speak. I have an on line friend near Las Vegas, Nathaniel, a fellow Native American. He has been filling me in on some of this. I believe your Mr. Davis has also spoken with Nathaniel. Brett, I'll go with you or help any other way I can. Fascinating stuff. I'll tell you what, I have to leave now
for an appointment. Call me back this evening with your game plan. Where you want to meet, when we fly to Vegas. Whatever. I will change my schedule any way necessary to do this thing. Hey, I'm ready to go tomorrow." Click. She didn't even wait for goodbye.
This woman is something else Brett thought. Confirmed what he had found out before he called her for the first time. He contacted some of his colleagues who knew her and talked to other sources of a more clandestine nature, like his friend with the FBI. The consensus was she was quite brilliant, and a real looker some were quick to add.
Brett found out Caitlin was a Seneca, born on a reservation, actually in the only city which lies within a reservation, Salamanca, New York. She was one of the more than five hundred now living descendants of the great Seneca chief, Cornplanter. Chief Cornplanter's mother was a Seneca and his father was an Irishman, or so most said. Brett's friend at Harvard told him Caitlin had extraordinarily red hair and one would think she was a sassy Irish lass but for her rather dark complexion, buckskin garb and braids that usually hung over her breasts. And they said she had the most startling blue eyes.
Caitlin was a professor at the Harvard Divinity School on indefinite sabbatical to complete her book, of which she would tell no one of the subject matter. She had been teaching courses on comparative religions and Native American studies. Being fluent in Hebrew and Greek, among other languages, she occasionally taught a language course when the dean said he needed her.
Dr. Cornplanter was also a lecturer at the Chautauqua Institution during summers. It wasn't far from her home, and as Brett recalled from his several visits, it was one of the most intellectually and spiritually stimulating environments he had ever experienced. Art, drama, religion, history, music. Chautauqua had the best of everything Brett reminisced fondly.
Brett made reservations to fly to Las Vegas the following evening. He decided he and Caitlin should fly out of Cleveland, which was about an equal distance for each of them. He called her back and the itinerary met with approval. The United flight was scheduled to depart Cleveland's Hopkins International Airport at 8:20 p.m.
It took Brett about three hours to drive from Columbus to Cleveland and he had figured it would take Caitlin about the same to drive from Salamanca. He spotted her immediately. She was standing in line to check her luggage and when she saw him waving and gesturing she got out of line and joined him at the rear.
Brett was shocked. Caitlin was even more exotic and beautiful than he had been led to believe. And his friends were very right about those blue eyes. Extraordinary. He extended his hand and he was very surprised by the strength and warmth of her hand. And then she really startled him when she hugged him and pecked him on the cheek.
"Oh, c'mon, Brett, we are going to be friends, good friends. No need to be so formal. Hey, and I'm not flirting! You told me on the phone you are happily married and have two great kids, right? Not to worry. I won't seduce you." That certainly broke the ice, they both laughed and others standing in line smiled and smirked.
They chatted as they checked their luggage and eventually boarded the plane. Caitlin insisted she did not want to talk about "the case" until they got to Las Vegas and met with Jack Davis. "I don't want to repeat myself," she emphasized. Brett had told Caitlin briefly about the women who had mysteriously disappeared but not about the Lilith murders. Jack had told him not to yet.
When they were seated Brett closed his eyes and asked, "Caitlin, would you tell me about Chautauqua? I simply have to get there again soon. Haven't been there for a couple years."
"First, let me tell you a humorous story. Good thing I'm not blonde! A friend told me the President and First Lady bought a house in Chautauqua. He heard it on the Rush Limbaugh show. Well, I'm in total shock until I find out their new home is in Chappaqua. Duh! And here I was all ready to go for a drive and find their new house."
"Brett, you have to stay at the Athenaem Hotel for a few nights at least. What an atmosphere! Sure it costs over $300 a night for a double but it's worth it. Even though I don't live far from the Chautauqua Institution, I always stay at the Athaneum for at least a week in the summer. I pick the week when the most interesting activities, at least for me, are happening."
Caitlin continued, "Before I even get to the summer 2,000 schedule, Chautauqua is hosting 'God at 2,000' in February at Oregon State University. Archbishop Desmond Tutu and Joan Chittister, a Benedictine sister and author of many books, are only a few of the speakers whose names you will recognize to be featured. This will be a technology even with many linked via teleconferencing. Regarding the summer 2,000 schedule, I have been asked to participate in the 'World Peace Without Religious Peace?" forum beginning July 30."
Brett had fallen asleep. Caitlin picked up Brett's briefcase and perused the contents, settling on the folder marked Lilith File for closer examination. She closed her eyes and muttered to herself, "What in the hell am I getting into here I wonder."
They landed at Las Vegas McCarran airport and departed the plane. Jack Davis was waiting for them. Brett greeted his friend warmly and introduced Dr. Cornplanter.
"Pleeeese, Brett. Call me Caitlin, Mr. Davis, and I'll call you Jack." She thought he looked very dangerous in more ways than one. Quite weathered but handsome and the sort one does not cross.