by Keene, Susan
One man, older with salt and pepper hair and a pinstriped blue suit, pale blue shirt, and a two-toned tie in dark blues; carried a heavy folder.
The other man I guessed to be about my age wore dark brown slacks, a crisp white shirt, maroon sport jacket and no tie. He carried a folder, which he laid on the table.
Each of them had an official identification card hung around their necks with GUEST in big bold black letters.
The men took seats with an empty chair between them. I’m not sure why, but I knew they sat where they did to look less intimidating like teachers at the head of the classroom.
The man with the open collar said, “I’m David Lee, Agent in Charge, of the Chicago Field Office of the FBI.” He pointed to the man in the pinstriped suit. “This is Agent Mark Keeling, Special Agent in charge of multinational crimes. Mark is also with the Chicago office. You’re probably wondering why we brought you down here today. We are going to explain everything.”
“Don’t you want to know who we are?” Amy asked.
Agent Keeling opened the manila folder in front of him and let photos fall onto the table. “I have so many surveillance photos I see your faces in my dreams.” He picked up a picture of me. “Kate Nash, aka Katharine Meade, private investigator who solves crimes and mysteries but cannot keep from making headlines everywhere she goes.”
Next he had a shot of Ryan leaning against a car in Mexico. “Ryan Meade, one of the richest men in St. Louis and in the top hundred in the US. Mr. Meade gets involved in his wife’s escapades because he cannot bear to say no to her.”
My rage built, but I remained quiet. Ryan made a fist. Amy and Nathan stirred in their chairs.
Next, a photo of Amy and Nathan together as they watched a movie in our living room. Amy Perkins, Kate’s business partner and best friend, an ex-patrolman from Chicago who came to St Louis to escape a sad situation. She was raped by a suspect when he overpowered her in a dark warehouse.”
Nathan’s face turned crimson and the shock he couldn’t hide made it clear Amy didn’t tell him.
“Nathan Morris, Ryan Meade’s best friend and second in command at Meade International although lately he has been assigned to the Ivy Tucker case.
“Now that we have introductions out of the way, let’s talk about the Tucker family tragedy from 2004.”
“Where did you get those pictures?” I asked, as I tried to keep my voice steady and my growing anger contained.
“We’ll ask the questions,” Agent Lee said. “Why did you decide to investigate the murder of Ivy Tucker? Mrs. Meade, Kate Nash, you can answer the first questions.”
I nodded. “When Ryan and I found the girl on our front porch, she had one of my business cards in her pocket.” I glanced toward Amy who silently acknowledged my statement.
“Our first stroke of bad luck,” he said. “Had she died somewhere else, she would have been quietly buried as Jane Doe and none of this would have happened.”
I put my hand on Ryan’s knee. He placed his hand on top of mine.
“Well, Kate. Can I call you Kate?”
I shook my head yes.
“I read your dossier.”
There wasn’t any way to hide my surprise. I didn’t think ordinary folks had dossiers.
“You are quite a successful sleuth. You and Amy, and the two gentlemen here, found a serial killer, took down the most notorious crime family in New Jersey, and now have managed to screw up years of preparation and work for the FBI.
“Even though your friend was nearly killed by a deadly snake venom.” He looked from one of us to another.
“Your husband’s men assaulted and one kidnapped, didn’t deter you. Maybe we should recruit you to work for us. There aren’t many agents as tenacious as the four of you.”
Agent Keeling opened the manila envelope that had been inside the folder he brought with him. He handed a packet of papers to each of us. He took out a cell phone, called someone and said, you can come in now.
Two young executive types walked in. One a beautiful blond girl who should have been on a fashion runway instead of in an unfeminine blue suit, a man-tailored white shirt, and an obvious gun bulge under her jacket on the right side denoting her to be left-handed.
The other was a twenty something man, not particularly good looking, yet his eyes were the bluest I’d ever seen. I wondered if he had on colored contact lenses.
Keeling spoke again. “This is Agent Ames and Agent Duran. They are here to witness the signing of the affidavits you have in front of you. Read every page carefully, initial at the bottom and then pass each page to one of the agents. Ames, you take the couple on the left, Duran, the right. They pulled chairs to an appropriate spot, handed us each a pen, and sat with their hands on the table. They resembled mechanical dolls more than people.
“What are these?” Ryan asked.
“They are self-explanatory. You are about to hear facts not known to the public and should never be seen by anyone outside the agents on the case. This is an iron clad form promising us you will not repeat a word you hear today.”
Nathan spoke for the first time. “Isn’t our word good enough for you?”
“Sorry sir, not in this case.”
The next ten minutes were quiet while we read and signed the papers. During the time we did the paperwork, a woman in a maroon dress, low heels, and salt and pepper hair came in with sandwiches, cold drinks, and chips.
They seemed friendlier, but there was nothing friendly about the papers I had in front of me. If any fact left the room we were in, we would be arrested and could spend up to seven years in a Federal prison and forfeit all our assets in the United States. One page said we could not discuss what we heard with one another.
None of us balked at signing. I knew we would not get out of the room without it.
When the papers were signed and witnessed, the two younger agents left. Agent Lee said, “Now that the tedious part is done let’s take a break. I know we brought you here without breakfast or your morning coffee. Feel free to walk around, help yourself to the food. We’ll take a thirty- minute break. The restrooms are down the hall, men on the right, ladies on the left.”
We all remained in our seats for a long quiet moment. Chances were there were listening devices in the room. One word about Ivy Tucker or her family could land us in jail. Ryan said, “I’m going to use the bathroom and take them up on their food and drink. This could be a long day.”
When the agents re-entered the room, we had all eaten a sandwich and had our choice of drinks in front of us.
“If you are ready to begin,” Lee said, “had Ivy not died in such a public way, we would not be here today. Everyone, including the Mexican authorities, FBI, and US Marshalls thought Ivy drowned all those years ago. Then Samuel Carrere appeared after an absence of ten years.
“He killed the Tuckers, burned the boat, and left Ivy for dead?” Amy asked.
“No. The point is, no one killed the Tucker family. Samuel, known locally as Michael Mannes, was a Federal Ministerial Police Officer, the Mexican equivalent of the FBI.
“He had an alias in the area of Smith River and the Baja. The Tucker family was a joint effort of both countries to save the doctors Tucker. An entire year of work went into the plan to move the Tuckers to safety.
“It all went to hell when Eric Tucker insisted he take a large amount of cash with them on the trip. I know what your question now is─ what trip?
“Sharon Tucker is the only daughter of Jose Hernandez, the notorious drug king.
“It was his idea to branch out and go into the theft and trading of organs to wealthy people all over the world. We all know that without your health you are nothing. He insisted his daughter and her husband do the surgeries and his organization would distribute the organs, not to the neediest, or the sickest, but to the ones with the most money.
“They refused. They were a perfectly normal family until the day he kidnapped Ivy and Dallas until they agreed to cooperate. They conta
cted us. We arranged for them to have the heart of a grown pig that had been tagged for the meat packing plant.
“I don’t think Jose wanted to kill his grandchildren, and he returned them promptly. What we did was a good and bad idea. Every other week they wanted a heart, kidney, or lung. The Tuckers just couldn’t do it.
“We arranged for a witness protection program. Until it was finalized, they used pig parts. Pigs are called horizontal humans because of the size and functionality of their organs. We weren’t hurting any animals, they were destined for slaughter, and it kept the circle going until we could make all the arrangements.”
I put my hand up for him to stop. Amy was green and looked as if she would throw up any minute, Ryan had turned away several times, and I had never seen the look Nathan had on his face. “I know you deal with this sort of thing regularly, but the details are a little much for us all at once. We need a break before you tell us what happened to the family on the boat and how Ivy ended up with a retired nun in Mexico.”
Agents Lee and Keeling whispered a few words to one another and declared a fifteen-minute break.
During our break a US Marshall joined the two agents. Once we resumed, he was introduced. He fit my picture of a movie star Marshall. I rolled it over in my head. Aaron Daley. Had it not been for the logo on his shirt and the badge holder hanging from his belt, I would have thought him a cop. Aaron had a presence. His hair, thick and blond, hung to the top of his eyebrows yet didn’t look messy. His biceps bulged under a long sleeve khaki shirt, and his leg muscles strained the uniform pants. His smile seemed genuine when he came to our end of the table and shook each of our hands.
Agent Lee looked at him and said, “I’m going to turn this over to you.”
The Marshall stood. “I’m not sure if you are aware, but the US Marshal Service oversees the Witness Protective Program in the States. Each family or group is assigned a handler. I am the handler for the Tucker family.”
When he heard the murmurs and disbelief from us, he put up his hands. “I know it sounds completely impossible, but I will explain it to you. It is virtually never revealed who is in the program and where they are.
“We have extraordinary circumstances here. You have all signed an affidavit that nothing said in this room is ever repeated. Due to the delicate situation our participants are in, we ask you don’t discuss it with one another either. I’m sure you all know by now; we can listen to anybody at any time with our equipment. It doesn’t matter what you have, ours will trump yours every time”
Amy broke in. “What about the man who almost killed me with snake venom, attacked Ryan’s men and stole his company car and drove it into the river? Are you trying to tell us U.S. law enforcement did that to us?”
“I haven’t told you anything so far. Could you just sit still and let me talk?”
Ryan put both hands on the table, I could feel his body tense next to mine, but he said nothing.
“On June eighteenth, two thousand and four, the Tuckers were to leave on a supposed trip to the Mexican mainland by schooner. The captain was one of ours. Well, not ours. He was a member of the US Coast Guard. He had done undercover work for us before. We trusted him to do a simple job.
“He was to pair up with Marshal Jane Randall, sail the family to the whale watching site at Ignacio and three days later, take the boat further down the coast, set it on fire and let it sink.
“The three days they were in the camp, the entire family was to be picked up and moved to an undisclosed location.”
I couldn’t help it, I had to ask. “What about the drawings and Ivy lost on the raft. Is that a lie also?”
“No, only part of it. The Doctors Tucker insisted they have cash. It’s a no-no because assets are easy to track. There was no talking Eric out of it. We hid seventy-five thousand dollars in small unmarked bills on the boat. The Federal Agent from Mexico, Samuel Carrere knew the money was with them and where we hid it.
“Once the family left the whales and began to sail, Carrere took the money and was prepared to leave. First, he sat the boat on fire.”
Ryan shook his head. “What about all the blood Ivy thought she saw?”
I wondered as I looked from Ryan to Nathan to Amy if they had the same feeling I had. We were being fed a fairy tale. Why, I didn’t know. All we could do was listen to the story and see how it ended.
Marshall Daley’s phone rang. He went out into the hall to answer it. When he came back all the color had drained from his face. “I must go. We will finish this tomorrow. Remember, no talking to each other or anyone else.”
Amy said, “No one would believe it anyway.”
He shot a hostile look over his shoulder and left.
Agent Lee took us home and said he would call in the morning to tell us what time they would come for us. Ryan said, “We’ll drive ourselves, but thanks for the offer.”
He took Amy and Nathan home first and then us. No one said goodbye or see you tomorrow. No one said anything.
We didn’t talk about the case. Not because we were threatened, but because it was so ridiculous.
I was more exhausted than I would have been if I’d run a marathon.
We took showers, played with the dogs and went to bed. We didn’t say three words to one another.
No one from the team who briefed us the day before called, emailed, or came by.
In the afternoon, someone knocked on the front door. Ryan looked out the security window of the right side of the door and I looked out the left. It answered the question as to why Axel sat relaxed at her side and Chili wiggled like a fishing worm. Ryan opened the door.
Amy sat Digger on the floor. He ran as fast as he could to Chili and they began to wrestle. Axel wagged his tail as Sally went to sit beside him.
“Hi guys,” I said in my most cheerful voice. “Are you as nervous as we are, waiting for the other shoe to fall?”
Amy gave me a hug and pushed me back to look in my eyes. “I don’t think there is another shoe. I believe they ran out of script for the fairy tale.”
“They are most likely sitting in a room trying to find a logical way to describe all the mishaps we had. They certainly didn’t fit into the story they were weaving,” Nathan added.
Ryan walked toward the kitchen. “Anyone hungry or thirsty?”
We all were. Nathan made grilled cheese sandwiches. I made a salad and Ryan cut a watermelon in to triangle shaped pieces.
Just as we sat down to enjoy our lunch, someone rang the doorbell three times in a row without waiting to see if anyone would open the door. Ryan signaled for us to stay. A few minutes later, he came back and sat down. “It was a currier.”
He laid two packets in the center of the table. One addressed to Amy and Nathan and one to me and Ryan. I picked the one up with our names on it and opened the package. I read aloud. A car will pick you up at your home at nine pm. Agent David Lee, FBI
“I wonder if ours is the same?” Nathan opened it and took out the page written on official FBI stationary. “It reads the same only ours is signed, Agent Mark Keeling.”
Ryan took a bite of his sandwich and looked at each of us. “Doesn’t make you feel warm and fuzzy, does it?”
“Should we go?” Amy asked. “Think it is on the up and up, or is it something else completely?”
We finished our lunch in silence. Amy and I took the big dogs for a walk around the block. The guys moved to the patio to drink a beer. “Are you nervous about tonight?” Amy asked.
“I don’t know what to think. I’ll make up my mind when I see who picks us up and what they are driving.”
Amy stopped to let Sally potty. “I know I’ll be armed.”
CHAPTER 28
I dressed as if I had a case to handle, black slacks, a white cotton tee, and a lightweight blazer to hide the Glock I shoved into my pants at the small of my back.
Ryan wore jeans, a blue tee shirt and a Cardinal jacket to cover his weapon.
Before Amy and Nathan left, we
all decided the entire note seemed off along with the secrecy around it and the time of the ride. It called for caution. My common sense told me to insist I take Axel. I knew it was out of the question.
Ryan suggested we put Chili in her crate and Axel loose in the house to guard her and her surroundings. It would be a first, I reluctantly agreed.
Promptly at nine, Agent David Lee rang the doorbell. When I saw him, I let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “Sorry for all the cloak and dagger arrangements. It will all become clear later.”
Agent Lee drove to Highway 40, turned on Highway 94, then Highway D and there was no longer a question of where we were headed. Busch Wildlife Area, a nearly seven-thousand-acre wildlife refuge ran alongside us on the left. I knew the area closed at ten pm. I shouldn’t have worried.
The agent turned onto a road with a locked gate across it. Lee stopped the car, got out, unlocked the gate, and returned to the car. We drove about a half mile before he turned onto a smaller road to the left. A sign read Area 23, Catfish pond, No Fires, and a likeness of Smokey the Bear.
Ryan and I were in the backseat. He turned to us. “I’m going to have to insist you give me your firearms. You are in no danger.”
We complied.
He led us down a pitch-black path with trees and shrubs on both sides. We came to a bunker, equally dark. He led us inside.
I knew there were a hundred such bunkers in the park. They were part of a TNT manufacturing plant during WWII, as part of the war effort.
The air in the underground open-ended concrete shelter was cold, damp, and dark. The further we walked, the brighter it became until we were in, what I guessed, the middle of the structure. Work lights were placed into a circle. They lit the space like daylight. Amy, Nathan, Agent Keeling, and Marshall Daley had taken seats around two adults who looked vaguely familiar, yet I couldn’t identify.
There were three empty chairs. The three of us sat.
Daley pointed at the couple to his left. “I’d like to introduce you to Sharon and Eric Tucker.”
