by A W Hartoin
“Because she promised to stay with me,” said Jake, sounding stronger than I expected.
“We could skip the interviews and go straight to arrests,” the CID agent said.
“Me or him?” I asked.
“Both.”
“He’s seventeen and a witness.”
“To what?”
“Conspiracy, for starters,” I said.
“He can tell us all about it in his interview,” said the agent.
“No. I have to talk to my mom,” said Jake. “And Mercy’s staying with me or I won’t tell you anything.”
Look at you kicking ass.
“I’d listen to him,” I said. “He’s a fount of information.”
“How are you involved in all this?”
“I’m the victim.”
Both agents crossed their arms and the second one said, “We were told you were here investigating.”
“The two aren’t mutually exclusive,” I said.
“I wouldn’t be so snotty if I were you,” said the lead. “You used illegal means to investigate.”
“Says who? I came to investigate my own crime because nobody else was. I asked questions. I got a lead. That took me to a café where Anton Thooft was extorted and blackmailed into kidnapping me. That led me to Jake here and the truth. You could’ve done that, but you didn’t. Don’t cry about it now.”
Both agents swallowed hard, probably to keep from yelling at me. My mother would’ve been appalled at my impolite behavior and Dad wouldn’t be thrilled, either. He was always more charming than me. He’d have made friends. I wanted to kick them in the junk and get the hell out of there.
“We need to interview you separately,” said the lead.
“Jake needs to tell his mother what happened,” I said. “We have no objection to you hearing it.”
“The FBI international unit is on its way.”
“The more the merrier.”
That took them back for about three seconds, but they came back swinging.
“You have compromised this investigation with illegal tactics and you will be charged.”
I laughed. “What investigation?”
“Our chances of a conviction of our suspect are materially damaged.”
“You don’t have a suspect,” I said. “Go ahead. Tell me who got Madison Purcell to do everything. Who is it? Enlighten me.”
Oh, they hated me so hard and I did enjoy it. Not a good angel moment, but I was tired, and yet another headache was blooming in my brain.
“What you got can’t be used against those parties.”
“How come?” Jake asked. “She knows stuff. You don’t.”
The agents gritted their teeth and then the lead said, “As an agent of law enforcement, Miss Watts can’t use illegal means to get information.”
“I’m not an agent of anything, except myself and my client, who is Kimberly Thooft Stackhouse by the way.”
“As a consultant for the FBI—”
“Hold the phone,” I said. “I’m not a consultant for those douchebags. That’s my dad.”
They frowned and checked their phones. “We were told you are on the FBI payroll and that’s how you got out of the Polizei’s grip.”
“Nope. My dad’s been angling for a consultant’s fee, but I dipped on it and came here instead.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because they wanted me to have a bunch of chats with serial killers. The last time I played that card, I got bit on the face.” I indicated my scar.
“Dude, you are badass,” said Jake.
“If I was badass, I wouldn’t have been bit on the face, but let’s not quibble,” I said. “Take us to his mom. I’ve got a headache and I need coffee in a huge way.”
“We want everything,” said the lead.
“He’ll give you everything.” I won’t.
The lead took a breath, and I could see him thinking about how this was against the rules or regulations or whatever. That fought against getting the job done. A pretty good tug of war or so I’ve been told. Rules have never been my thing.
“Alright,” he said at long last and turned to the MP, who was fascinated by the exchange. “Where is the mother?”
“Right this way,” he said, and I turned to call for Moe, but my bodyguard was yakking it up with a couple of younger MPs. He’d pulled his VFW hat out of somewhere and popped it on. They were discussing a sniper’s life in-country and I decided to leave him to it. The old guy was having a ball.
Jake, Hobbes, and I followed the MP through a warren of hallways to a plain door with a placard that said occupied. He knocked and opened the door. Before I could blink, Lisa Purcell was slobbering all over her son and momming it up real good. It was work to get them back in the interview room, but the CID did a good job of it.
Lisa tried to pull Jake to the other side of the narrow table in the center of the room where a cup of coffee was sitting with her purse, but the boy pushed her off and got back to me.
“What is she doing here?” Lisa demanded with a red face and swollen eyes. “It’s her fault we’re here. My son could’ve been killed.”
I pulled out a chair and resisted the urge to Bogart her coffee, germs be damned. “Your son has been suicidal for weeks. Please, sit down and we’ll tell you everything.”
“You chased him.” She pointed at Hobbes. “He said…he said…”
Hobbes went around the table to take Lisa’s shaking hand. “I said that Jake was suicidal and running. She went after him. The news said she talked him down.” The counselor looked at Jake, who was pale as paper, and asked, “Is that true?”
“Yeah. I was totally going to jump.”
“Why?” Lisa wailed. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”
The CID agents moved in and got her calmed down with the help of Hobbes, but she still said, “It’s her fault you almost died. If she hadn’t come here…”
“I was going to do it anyway,” said Jake softly. “Because of what happened to Mr. Thooft.”
“That’s got nothing to do with you.”
Jake looked at me and I said, “Madison blackmailed him into coming after me. Your son figured it out and it’s been tearing him apart.” I told her the timeline and the CID took notes and recorded me. I think they expected me to object, but I couldn’t have cared less.
“It’s not true,” said Lisa. “Madison wouldn’t do any of that. She only had that boyfriend for a little while. A month at most.”
“It was a lot longer than that, Mom,” said Jake.
“She would not do those things. She’s just a kid.”
“I don’t think it was her idea, but she did do it,” I said.
Lisa scoffed. “You really think my daughter stole her father’s SGLI money? You must be nuts.”
“She did,” said Jake.
His mother pointed at him and yelled, “Do not lie!”
Jake shuddered and I grabbed his hand under the table. “Check your account. It’s empty.”
“How do you know?” the CID lead asked.
“A little bird told me,” I said.
“Illegal—”
“I told her,” said Jake.
“Jake,” said Lisa. “Don’t protect her. Don’t lie.”
“I’m not lying.”
He was lying his face off and I loved him for it. The pleasure of seeing the sucking lemon expressions on the agents’ faces was enough to make my headache better. No coffee required.
“Seriously,” I said. “Check your account.”
“It’s utterly ridiculous,” said Lisa.
“Madison stole the money, Mom,” said Jake. “She was going to steal our college funds, but I told her that I knew the codes for our accounts and I’d tell you if she did.”
“Oh, my God,” said Lisa. “So she took Dad’s money.”
“I didn’t think of that. I would’ve stopped her if I had.” The boy got teared up. “You can’t retire now. I’m so sorry, but Mercy’s going to try to get it
back.”
“Are you now?” asked the CID lead.
“Somebody has to,” I said. “What are you going to do?”
“We will follow the law.”
“Awesome. I’ll follow the criminal and we’ll see who gets there first.”
He muttered something unintelligible under his breath and Hobbes suppressed a smile before saying, “You should check your account, Lisa. To confirm.”
Lisa got her phone out and in a matter of minutes did just that. Then through sobs, she called her daughter, who still wasn’t answering. The CID started asking questions and although Jake was upset he answered everything, but he didn’t let out the name. Sebastian Nadelbaum was mine and he knew it on instinct or maybe he just didn’t like the CID. That was also possible.
It took quite a while to go through everything twice, which the agents insisted on. I did get some coffee. It was terrible, but I was desperate.
“What was the point of all this?” asked the lead. “What do you think Anton was going to do with you?”
“I don’t really know, but it has something to do with The Klinefeld Group,” I said.
“Who?”
I explained about the Bleds’ issues with the not-for-profit group, but they weren’t convinced until I brought up Lester’s murder. That got them on their phones to check it out and were quickly shocked to find I was telling the truth.
“The group was never charged,” said the second agent.
“Nope. They’re good. I’ll give them that.”
“If they could pull that off, why use a high school teacher to do this?”
“This wasn’t their idea,” I said.
Lisa stood up. “I have to go home. She won’t answer. Maybe she left a note.”
“We’re not done, ma’am,” said the lead.
Hobbes stood up and put a big hand on Lisa’s shoulder. “You have enough for now, don’t you? They’re not going anywhere.”
I am.
“Yes, time to go,” I said. “Jake needs to talk to his counselor, I’m sure.”
“Definitely,” said Hobbes. “I’ve got the rest of the day and we’re going to work through everything you’re ready to discuss.”
Jake nodded and stood up.
“Hold on,” said the lead and his partner showed him his phone. Neither was happy and they both glared at me.
“You haven’t given us a name,” said the lead.
“What name?” I asked with batting eyelashes.
“Don’t give me that,” he said. “You know who the boyfriend is.” He turned on Jake. “Or he does.”
Lisa came around the table and grabbed her son. “Don’t you talk to him like that. It’s not his fault.”
“She called him Mr. Big,” said Jake.
“Like Sex in the City?” Lisa asked. “Gross.”
I had to agree, but that wasn’t going to be enough. The agents were looking pretty shifty and I had to tell them something to get out of there. Novak’s train would be arriving in Gare de l’Est any minute.
“I suggest you talk to The Klinefeld Group,” I said. “Unless I miss my guess, he’s an employee or contractor for them.”
I described Nadelbaum, but they weren’t soothed.
“That could be anybody and if they did what you claim they’re not going to tell us anything,” said the lead.
“You know…” said Jake.
Don’t do it. Don’t do it.
“How about we go and get you home,” I said, and the agents lit up, smelling a withheld clue.
“It’s cool, Mercy,” said Jake. “They’re going to find out.”
He squeezed my arm and I had to trust him. “Go ahead then.”
“Madison did call him something else one time. It might be his name. I don’t know.”
The agents leaned forward and I have to admit, I did too. Where in the heck was Jake going?
“What was it?” asked the lead.
“Evergreen,” said Jake with satisfaction.
Holy crap! Good call.
“Evergreen?” I said, faking bewilderment. “I guess that could be a name.”
“Or a code,” said the second agent. “Anything else?”
Jake shrugged. “Nope. It was just the one time and I didn’t ask her about it.”
The agents conferred about the name and we went for the door. I expected protests at the very least, but they just let us leave, hustling out as fast as we could.
Moe was still in the same spot with a bigger audience, holding them enthralled with a description of the Mekong Delta. He had a way with words and I wanted to hear what happened. We all did, but then he saw me, and said, “Oh, Mercy. All done?”
“For the moment,” I said. “Go ahead.”
Moe finished his story and I’m not going to lie, it was gruesome. I wished I hadn’t heard it. His words made me think of Grandad’s scarred back and I tried never to think about that.
“You have to write it all down,” said one of the MPs.
“I might just do that,” said Moe. “Thanks for listening.”
They all shook his hand. Brothers in arms. Different generations but still the same in a way. We walked out and Moe chuffed Jake on the shoulder. “So you did alright and your mom hasn’t lost her marbles.”
“I don’t know about that,” said Lisa. “What do we do now?”
“Ask Mercy,” said Moe. “She’s the girl with a plan.”
“Actually, I don’t pl—”
“Mercy can find her,” said Jake. “You find her and then find that dirtbag. Or find the dirtbag and find Madison. They’ll be together, won’t they?”
“But all you have is Evergreen,” said Lisa.
“Get a grip, Mom.” Jake rolled his eyes.
“You lied to CID?” She put her head in her hands. “I don’t know what they’ll do to you.”
“Nothing,” I said. “He didn’t lie. The name is Evergreen.”
“Is it?” Moe asked.
“If you translate it.”
Jake grinned at me. “Pretty good, huh?”
“Excellent,” I said. “Your son has serious smarts.”
“It’s not working out for me,” said Lisa. “They’re both smart and look where we are.”
Jake took his mom’s hand and said, “We’re going to get that guy and Madison, too.”
“She’s not going to go to him. He ruined her life.”
“But she doesn’t know he set her up,” I said. “She thinks the loss was a trick of the market. She’ll go to him if she can.” My phone buzzed and I glanced at the screen. Novak. “Pulling up to the station.”
“We don’t know where she is,” said Lisa. “I’ve been calling and calling. The Polizei said her car is gone.”
“We know where she is,” said Moe.
“She could be going to Paris,” I said. “That’s where he is.”
“You know that?” Lisa asked.
“We do. Madison might know as well.”
“Let’s see, shall we?” Moe took out his phone, pressed a few buttons and said, “Would you look at that. Heading for Paris.” He held up his phone to show a map with a red dot moving along a highway.
“What in the world is that?” I asked.
“I put a tracker on her car.”
“When?”
“After we tailed her to Pizza Hut. You were talking to the co-worker and I snapped a device on. I figured she’d book it at some point. Why make things difficult?”
Lisa grabbed the phone. “She’s not that far. What are all the points?”
Moe took back the phone. “Looks like she was looking for him in Stuttgart. She drove to two apartment buildings and a couple of bars. Now she’s on the A8.”
“You are a genius,” I said.
“I learned from the best,” said Moe with a grin that made me think of a pirate. He only lacked the eyepatch. “Let’s have the Polizei grab her up.”
“Yes.” Lisa looked frantically around for a car, but hers had been towed.
“No,” said Jake. “She’s going to that guy. We should follow her.”
“We’re going to Paris one way or the other,” I said to Lisa. “As for Madison, it’s your call. The Polizei could get her in a matter of minutes.”
Lisa thought for a moment. “She’s going to him and he’s in Paris…”
“He is,” I said. “But we’ve got people on him already, so—”
“No, you don’t,” said Moe.
“What?”
“Call Novak.”
I checked my phone and saw a text. “He got past us.”
“What the—” I called Novak and my exhausted hacker answered with an apology. “Sorry. The bastard jumped off the train.”
“Well, then he’s dead,” I said. “It was high speed.”
Novak sighed. “No, unfortunately. He pulled an emergency door when we were coming into the station and jumped out. Low risk. A man matching his description was seen running on the tracks. It’s my fault. I fell asleep. I texted you and looked for him when I woke up, but he was gone.”
“He’s got a few skills,” I said.
“We will get him. Where are you?”
I told him about Jake and our interview.
“You’ve got the mother?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Why?”
“Does she like you?”
I looked at Lisa. “Do you like me?”
“I haven’t decided,” said Lisa with total honesty.
“Mom!” exclaimed Jake. “She’s helping.”
“I’m okay in her book,” I told Novak.
“Get her to search the house for that burner.”
“Now you’re cookin’ with gas,” I said.
“You’ve spent too much time with old people,” said Novak.
“You are not wrong, but that’s been my whole life.” I hung up and said, “We lost him in Paris. What’s your decision?”
Lisa took a breath and held tight onto her son. “I want that bastard. Follow her.”
“Can you do me a huge favor?”
“Anything.”
“Madison had a burner phone to talk to him with,” I said. “I need you two to search the house for it while we go to Paris.”
I could tell that was a struggle. She wanted to go and be there to see Madison and possibly to strangle Nadelbaum, but Jake convinced her to go home.
“Alright,” she said and turned to Hobbes. “Can you give us a ride?”
