by Keene, Susan
She stood and put the dogs on the floor. I’m hungry now. Let’s go.”
Randy drove to Steak ‘n Shake and picked up burgers, fries, and milk shakes. The next hour we basked in fast food heaven.
At five on the dot, my cell phone rang, Ryan came in from the back of the house, and Nathan walked through the front door. Digger and Chili greeted them, Axel and Sally didn’t so much as twitch an ear.
Ryan opened his arms. “Don’t I get so much as a hug?”
I stood and met him halfway. “I’m truly glad you are home, I’ve missed you.”
Nathan and Amy said their hellos. “Can you be done for the night?” Ryan asked.
“You bet,” Amy and I said in unison.
CHAPTER 26
A my and Nathan did not stay to visit. Ryan and I had Chinese. We drank beer from a micro-brewery he had visited on his trip.
I snarled my lip at the label of the wheat beer. It had little yellow cartoon men fashioned out of blueberries and hats made of pineapple rings. The beer was tasty.
We retired to the living room. Axel positioned herself as close to Ryan as she could. Chili, who started out on my lap, wedged her way between us and went to sleep.
Ryan had given a presentation of his new combination alarm and drone anti-theft system to a group of business owners. They included two auto dealerships, three real estate companies, nine retail stores, and eleven warehouses. Of the twenty-five, five signed on the spot. Eight more he felt certain would use his services, and the rest were iffy except for one cantankerous old man who hated everything.
I had always prided myself on my listening skills, but the more in detail he described his adventures the more my mind wandered to my news. I put myself in his shoes and tried to get interested. It was all I could do not to sigh when he finished and asked, “What happened in the Tucker case while I was gone?”
I rattled off all of the events, the boat, the fact that the neighbor had died years before, we had tracked down the women who met us at the house, the diving company, the boat dock, and all the other facts I could remember. It was well after midnight.
We took the dogs out and walked around the yard admiring the shrubs and flowers. The night had turned cool following a thunderstorm earlier in the evening.
We took a hot shower until the water ran cold. My goal was to show Ryan how much I missed him. One minute he petted Chili, the next moment his breathing rhythm changed. He was asleep on his back still holding the dog.
I realized how tired he was when Axel jumped up and took his place at the foot of the bed and Ryan didn’t stir. I moved close to him, took Chili off his chest, and replaced her with my arm.
Amy called at eight-thirty the next morning to say she had to go to the grocery store and dry cleaners before she came to work. Ryan still slept soundly so I trotted into the kitchen and made bacon, toast, and scrambled eggs.
He sat on the side of the bed when I went in, looked up from his phone and grinned at me. “I was checking my messages. Two more companies signed.” He lowered his eyes to the tray. “Is that for me? It smells wonderful.”
I sat the tray next to him on the bed. “Actually, it was for my boyfriend, but my husband came home, and I had to ask him to leave.”
He moved the tray to the bedside table and patted the space next to him for me to sit. “He’s a very lucky fellow. Maybe I should remind you of how much I love you.”
He pushed me back on the bed.
It seemed like no time before Amy rang the front doorbell.
I wasn’t dressed. Ryan slipped into a pair of jeans with one knee out and his favorite tee shirt, a faded maroon Harvester with a tear on the sleeve. I threw the shirt away once, but he went to the bin and dug it out. After a two-minute shower, I slipped on shorts, a Cardinal tee, and put my unruly hair in a ponytail with my hands and held it in place with a yellow grosgrain ribbon.
Amy sat at the kitchen counter with a bagel smothered with strawberry cream cheese and a Chai Latte. “Hi, I see Ryan took good care of you.”
I blushed.
He took my hand as I walked by and gave me a quick smile and a kiss on my palm. “Let me get a little breakfast and we’ll get started. I’m excited to put an end to this drama.”
We took our food to the Tomb. Chili stayed on Ryan’s lap. Digger hung out with Chili and the big dogs went with me and Amy. As we settled, I told her, “Axel lays outside the shower door. Not the bathroom door, the shower door. If I ask him to leave, he moves about a foot away from me but no more.”
“They are strange creatures, but I love them. Sally walked beside me as I bought groceries yesterday. I got some strange looks, but no one said anything.”
She put her food on the table beside her desk and said, “The only information I could get from the men at the Seaside Marina yesterday was that the boat was out most of the summer. We can’t get any more specific details because we aren’t official government law enforcement.”
“I’ll call Roger. He can call the dock and get the information we need.”
“They told me it must be faxed to them on a requisition form and have the signature of the person seeking the information.”
“Okay, I’ll see how friendly Captain Simon is this morning.”
She put both hands on her belly the way I’ve seen many pregnant women do. “He always says, don’t hesitate to call if you need anything, so don’t hesitate.”
To catch Roger up on the facts took a few minutes. He said to fax him exactly what we wanted to know and all the information as to who to send the paper to, With Amy’s help, I did.
We researched what we could generally and learned each person on a boat of any kind going into Mexican waters had to have a current Visitor’s Pass. I faxed Roger the information we needed to see who was issued Mexican Guest Passes in the summer of 2004.
We played the waiting game until we received the information back from Roger’s office. “Let’s call the Diving School and ask for Christine Hampton and see what happens.”
“Amy, that’s a great idea. Do you want to call or should I?”
“You do it.” I called the number listed under Diving Schools in the San Diego phone directory. There were two full pages of listed schools. We chose this one because of its closeness to the marina.
Someone answered on the third ring. “Hi, are either of the Johnston’s available?”
I had the phone on speaker. “No, they are rarely here anymore. They take new divers on their first outing.”
“I see. Is there some way to reach them?”
“Who is this?”
“Actually, I am looking for Mrs. Johnston’s sister Christine. She has a refund coming from an insurance company and I am trying to find an address to send it to her.”
“Well, ma’am, I know you have the wrong people. Mrs. Johnston is an only child.” She hung up.
Before we had time to discuss the new odd development, Roger called. I turned on my cell phone speaker once again. “Kate, Roger here. I couldn’t get the information you requested. Both logs you want are sealed.”
“Sealed by who?” I asked.
“The Federal Court of the Southwestern District of Chicago. They were sealed on July 31, 2004. I’m sorry. It’s a wonder you have as much information as you do.
“I looked into Ivy Tucker’s records. They are sealed also, since a month after her death. Same deal only this order went through the Federal Court, District One, St. Louis, Missouri.”
I looked toward Amy before I asked. “Why would they seal them?”
“I’m not sure. Most sealed records are those of minors. Maybe it’s because they are multi-country crimes. I doubt any judge will allow you a court order to release them when they won’t let the St. Louis Police Department have them. You’ll have to find another way to check on the ship and its excursions. There is nothing more I can do.”
“Thanks, Roger, I appreciate your effort.”
Amy suggested we take a break and walk around. The doctor t
old her not to sit over thirty-minutes at one time.
I made a salad. Amy wanted something sweet. There were no men guarding us or the house since Ryan came home. We had drone surveillance, right out of the movies. I scoured the pantry and found a box of Oreos. Amy took the entire package. “Let’s try the California Department of Transportation and see if we can see a copy of their driver’s license. They contain lots of information.”
We took the dogs out, sat on the patio and enjoyed the first cool day we’d had in weeks. Amy munched on her cookies, I stayed lost in thought until her voice broke through. “I might be wrong about the D.O.T. I truly believe we have gotten ourselves into something over our heads. Maybe we should drop the investigation. It’s clearly more than a boat accident.”
I took a cookie. “No one has tried to hurt us or put bugs in our houses and cars for days”.
She stared at me a long moment, her brown eyes so clear in the sunlight, they sparkled like stars. “Okay, but I need your word. If one more dangerous event happens, we quit.”
“You have my word. In truth, I believe the listening devices stopped because of the dogs and our cars are clean because of Ryan’s drones flying over both houses.”
The afternoon turned into hours of tedious work with no results. Seems the state of California has 124354 families with the surname, Johnston. San Diego has 12865. That included 11098 with the name J or Janice and 6924 with the name D. or Dwayne.
The diving school had a listing on the internet, but it contained little information. There were at least twenty-five pictures of folks in various stages of diving. Captions under them boasted of many adventures and great finds under water. No pictures of the boat or the Johnston’s were included.
Late in the afternoon, Amy called Divine Diving and asked for an appointment to set up lessons. They had no more room for new students until after the first of the year. It was August.
We had the address from the internet, although I began to doubt if the place existed. I put the address into the search line on Google Earth. Next I asked for a street view. “I found it,” I told Amy as she sat with her feet on Sally. “14367 Bob Ridge Road. Want to see it.?”
She pulled a chair next to me and looked at the computer screen. An old two-story brick building showed on the screen. Half of the second floor had decayed and fallen to the ground after years of neglect.
On the front window it looked like it might have, at one time, had the words Divine Diving stenciled on it.
For the heck of it, I called the phone number on the internet, not the same number we called before. We listened to the message; this number is no longer in service.
Amy looked up the website once again. A page flashed on the screen. It pictured a hammer, saw, and screwdriver with a cartoon man standing next to them with a sign. It read, Sorry for the inconvenience. We are down for maintenance. And gave the defunct phone number we knew was out of service.
I had the foreboding feeling someone knew our every move without the bugs and trackers. I kept my concern to myself.
“Let’s call it a day. It’s after five. Where’s Nathan?”
“He wanted to cook supper.”
“What’s he making?”
“I haven’t a clue, but it will be ready by the time I get there. I’d better go. See you tomorrow.”
I went to the wine cooler in the mud room and picked out a Moscato d’Asti, poured a glass, put the bottle on the counter, and the dogs and I went outside.
Axel had a funny way about him. He loved Chili yet he would sit beside me for hours if I didn’t release him to play. Chili raced after him as they played tag around the yard. They came panting to the patio, got a drink of water and settled down. Chili laid on my lap and Axel near my legs.
How could we have gone through all we had? Ivy’s body on the front porch, the trip to Mexico, the man at the hotel in Chicago, the bomber, and the assault on Ryan and the one on his men, the poisoning of Amy, and have all of it lead to nothing?
I didn’t know Ryan came home until Chili jumped off my lap and Alex raised his head and wagged his tail. “Hi,” I said as I stood to hug him. “Want a glass of wine?”
He raised his hand to show me the glass he must have filled on the way out. “It’s a good thing I’m not an intruder. You were so focused on your thoughts you didn’t know I was home.”
“Believe me, darling, had you been here to do me harm, Axel would have you cornered.”
He called the dogs to him and gave them some attention. “Want to tell me what has you in a blue funk?”
“No, maybe later. Want to raid the kitchen and cook dinner together? We haven’t spent any time together lately.”
“Sure, I’m starving.”
Ryan sautéed chorizo and sour cream in a large skillet until the meat no longer showed pink, stemmed Portobello mushrooms and arranged them in the bottom of a baking dish.
He poured the sauce, which was now the consistency of stroganoff, over the mushrooms and we put it in the oven. Twenty minutes later we had a delicious dinner.
Ryan was relaxed and attentive. I didn’t bring up the Tucker case. Tomorrow would come soon enough.
Together we washed dishes, wiped down the counters, opened another bottle of wine and went upstairs.
After a hot shower, we propped ourselves up on pillows and watched Vertigo for the tenth time. I fell asleep in his arms. Axel took his place at the end of the bed, Chili between us, and my head on Ryan’s chest.
CHAPTER 27
W e awoke to someone banging on the front door. Axel was down the stairs before Ryan and I had our feet on the floor. I ran to the bathroom to retrieve my robe. Ryan slipped on a shirt. The loud barking didn’t seem to deter whoever wanted in.
Ryan looked out the security window. “It’s two men in suits, with guns.” He pressed the button on the intercom. “May I help you?
“FBI. Open the door.”
“Please hold your identifications up to the window so we can see them.”
We both scrutinized their credentials and agreed they were legit. “What is it you want?”
In a voice harsher than the first one, he demanded, “Call off the dog and open the door.”
I called Axel off guard and put my hand down, as I did when I wanted him to accept a stranger into the house.
Ryan opened the door. Each man looked around as he stepped across the threshold. “Is there a problem?” I asked as I took the dog three steps farther away from the men.
One of the men stood at least six feet six and looked like he walked out of a GQ magazine. He had neatly combed hair and a handsome face. The other man stood no more than five feet seven and looked like he had slept in his clothes. The big man spoke. “I’m Agent Riley.” He pointed to his companion. “This is Agent Marshall. We are from the St. Louis Field Office. We have a warrant to bring you in and hold you until someone from the Chicago office arrives. Please get dressed and come with us.”
I looked at Ryan and then to the agents. “We need to make arrangements for the dogs. I can’t just leave them here. I’ll call my business partner. She will come right over.”
“Would that be Amy Perkins?”
I felt my face go red; my stomach jumped. Ryan stepped close to me and rested his hand on my shoulder. “Has something happened to Amy?”
“No. At this minute FBI agents are at her home detaining her and her boyfriend. They will be at the office when you arrive. You will have to leave the dogs here or find a replacement babysitter. Whatever you decide. We need to get on with it.”
Ryan glared at the men, turned around to pick up Chili who had come down the stairs and wanted to go outside. He signaled to Axel and he followed.
I slipped on a red Life is Good tee shirt and skinny leg jeans, washed my face, took an extra long time to brush my hair. I was done and back in the living room with the officers before I saw Ryan again.
No way I would ask them to sit. They could stand and remain uncomfortable. I heard Ryan on his ce
ll phone, but I couldn’t make out the conversation. He brought the dogs in and went upstairs without so much as a glance in the men’s direction.
The doorbell rang before Ryan returned. One of the agents opened it. “Who are you?” the big man said in an unfriendly voice.
“I’m David Roe. I work for Mr. Meade. He asked me to come over and babysit his dogs.”
They stepped aside and let David enter.
Once I was sure David knew how to take care of things and I made sure Axel wouldn’t take his arm off when we left, we went with the agents.
They stuffed us into the back of a plain Jane SUV with windows tinted so dark no one could see in. We held hands on the way to the field office. Neither of us said anything, but my mind couldn’t get past two words; Ivy Tucker.
The drive downtown took an exorbitant amount of time in the St. Louis morning rush hour traffic. They drove around the six story Federal Building to an underground garage that couldn’t be seen from the street.
We were escorted to the fourth floor and into a conference room with eight overstuffed chairs with rollers, a mahogany table and a serving cart in the corner with coffee and pastries. As if anyone could eat.
We looked up as Amy and Nathan were led into the room. Amy walked over to my left side and sat down. Nathan sat across the table next to Ryan.
I started to ask if they had any idea why we were here, but Nathan put a finger to his lips in a be quiet gesture. He took his fingers and walked them across the table like a bug.
We sat and waited, presumably for an FBI agent from Chicago. No one wanted anything to eat, but one by one we went to the cart and came back with a cup of coffee.
I nearly finished mine when two men entered the room and closed the door behind them.
