“Yes, you will,” her godfather replied. “And we’ll be here with you all the way. But right now, we need a favor.”
“Of course,” Jordan replied. “Anything.”
“Director Dunn’s daughters have been taken to a hospital in Ridgecrest, north of Los Angeles. HRT needs to return to base. Any chance we can borrow a Farrow Industries chopper?”
Jordan opened her phone and called the heliport. “Consider it on the way.”
58
WITHIN THIRTY MINUTES of receiving Jordan’s call the Farrow Industries Eurocopter EC155 touched down on the front lawn of the estate. Andrew Dunn ran to the chopper and took his place in the passenger seat.
“One hell of a night, huh?” Sam Cooper said, referring to the inclement weather. The pilot waited for the director to buckle up before handing him an in-flight communications headset.
“You have no idea,” Dunn replied over the rising whine of the twin Turbomeca engines. The helicopter lifted off, banked hard to the left, then sped up, following a north-by-northeast heading to Ridgecrest. “What’s our ETA?”
The pilot referred to the route information displayed on the digital flight control. “Forty-five minutes,” he replied. “Fair warning, though. Final approach could get a little rough. Ridgecrest’s got the Sierra Nevada’s to the west, Cosos on the north, Argus Range on the east and El Pasos on the south. When you factor in updrafts, downdrafts, and crosswinds from those surrounding mountain ranges, plus rain, thunder, and lightning, well… let’s say this promises to be an interesting flight.”
“Fine by me,” Dunn replied. “Just as long as you get us there in one piece.”
Cooper smiled. “Haven’t lost a passenger yet.”
Dunn smiled. “Try not to break that record tonight.”
“I heard about the crash,” Cooper said. “Still can’t believe it. How’s Jordan holding up?”
Rain lashed across the cockpit window. Thousands of feet below, the city of Los Angeles stood its ground against the raging storm.
“She’s keeping it together,” Dunn replied. “Which is the most anyone could expect from her right now.”
“Any idea how it happened?”
“We’ll know soon enough.”
“You want my two cents?”
“Sure.”
Cooper was emphatic. “There’s no way in hell that jet just fell out of the air,” he said. “All Farrow Industries aircraft, including this one, are serviced by corporately employed aircraft mechanics. If it crashed it’s because someone outside the company tampered with it, end of story.”
“Anyone come to mind who might be motivated to do that?” Dunn asked.
“Nobody I can think of. Michael and Mary were good people, you know? Considerate and generous to a fault. The kind who wouldn’t hurt a soul.”
“Someone out there doesn’t share that sentiment.”
Cooper shrugged. “Maybe not. But I’ll tell you this. None of our guys were responsible for the crash. Not a chance.”
“Let’s hope you’re right,” Dunn replied.
Forty-six minutes after leaving the Farrow estate, the extra minute lost to rough weather, the corporate chopper set down on the helipad at China Lake Regional Hospital in Ridgecrest.
“Bird’s at your disposal for as long as you need it,” Cooper called out as Dunn opened the cockpit door. “I have to clear the helipad. Hospital rules. Call for pick up when you’re ready to leave.”
“Thanks, Coop,” Dunn said.
“You’ve got it.”
Dunn ran across the tarmac, entered the facility, presented his credentials at Patient Registration, and was directed to the second floor. His daughter’s room wasn’t hard to find. A member of the FBI’s HRT tactical team stood guard outside the door. He recognized the FBI Director and stepped forward to greet him.
The agent introduced himself. “Special Agent Thomas Ford, sir. HRT Los Angeles. Your daughters are inside.”
“Thank you, Agent Ford,” Dunn replied.
Safe and sound. Thank God.
Dunn entered the room. Zoe was sitting up, her bandaged shoulder in a sling. Shannon sat in a guest chair beside her. Lily sat on the end of the bed, legs curled under her.
“Director Dad!” Zoe exclaimed as her stepfather entered the room. “It’s about damn time you got here.”
Shannon stood and gave her father a big hug. Dunn kissed his daughters.
“I leave you two alone for a week and this happens,” Dunn teased. “You guys okay?”
Zoe raised her wounded shoulder. “Other than receiving this little souvenir and being detained on suspicion of murder, I’d say we’re good.”
“About that,” Dunn said. “I was briefed on the situation. You’re both lawyers, so you tell me. Were you defending yourself?”
“This was non-criminal homicide to the letter,” Zoe said. “I was facing an imminent threat to my life under existing and extenuating circumstances, the result of which would have resulted in the commission of a murder; mine, to be exact. Had I not taken the action I did we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
“Good enough,” Dunn said. “Consider the matter closed.”
“Happy to,” Zoe said. Lily was holding her hand. “Dad, Shannon and I have someone special we’d like you to meet. This is Lily. She saved our lives. Lily, meet our father, Andrew Dunn.”
Lily stood. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”
“Not half as much as I am to meet you, Lily,” Dunn said.
Shannon said, “Without Lily’s help we would never have made it out of there alive.”
“I don’t know what to say, Lily, other than thank you,” Dunn said. He gave the girl a hug.
“By the way,” Zoe told her father, “Lily’s a genius.”
“Smart, huh?” Dunn replied.
“No, really,” Shannon added. “Lily’s a real genius. A one-hundred percent certified smarty-pants. Even has the creds to prove it.”
Lily blushed. “Had the creds, you mean.”
Shannon replied, “We’ll go back to the fallout shelter and get them.”
“Fallout shelter?” Dunn said.
“Yeah,” Zoe added. “They’re on the wall. Beside the periscope.”
“Periscope…”
“It’s a long story, sir,” Lily said.
Dunn laughed. “It certainly sounds like one.”
Lily lowered her head and stared at the floor. Dunn sensed the girl’s sadness. “How did you come to find yourself in the company of my daughters, Lily? Where are your parents?”
Shannon put her arm around her. “They’re gone, Dad. We’ll fill you in on the details later. Now’s not the time.”
The severity of the matter was obvious. Dunn asked, “Who’s taking care of you, Lily?”
Lily shook her head. “Just me.”
“You don’t have a family member you can stay with?”
Lily didn’t answer. Dunn saw the girl was on the verge of tears. “Then it’s settled,” he said. “Until this whole matter is rectified, you’ll stay with us.” He winked at Lily. “That is unless you’ve already had as much of these two troublemakers as you can handle.”
Lily smiled. “They can be a little difficult.”
Dunn laughed. “Tell me about it! So, what do you say? You want to hang out with us for a while?”
“Thank you, sir,” Lily replied. “I think I’d like that.”
“So would I,” Shannon said.
“Ditto,” Zoe added.
“Good,” Dunn said. “Then consider yourself one of the family.”
Shannon held out her pinky finger to Lily. Zoe did the same. “Told you we’d take care of you,” Shannon said. “Remember?”
“Yes, you did,” Lily said. “Thank you.”
“Sister pinky swear?” Zoe said.
The girls locked fingers. “Sister pinky swear,” Lily replied.
Dunn opened his phone and placed a call to Cooper. To the girls he said, “There’s a
helicopter on its way to pick us up. It’ll be here shortly.”
“Are we heading back to New York?” Shannon asked.
“No,” her father replied. “We’ll be staying in L.A. for a few days. I have funerals to attend. Plus, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
59
A TEAM OF FBI agents, assigned by Andrew Dunn before his departure for China Lake Regional Hospital, maintained a vigil over Farrow Estate throughout the night, wary that yet another attack against the family might follow the failed assassination attempts of the last few hours.
Chris slept in a reading chair in Michael Farrow’s study. Twice in the early hours of the morning he bolted out of the chair, drew his weapon, and raced up the stairs with members of the protection detail to investigate the origin of the screams. In both instances their response led them to Emma’s room where they found her sitting up in bed, clutching her sheets, and calling out for her father. Now Jordan was sitting beside her on the bed, holding her in her arms, rocking her, consoling her frightened daughter.
No immediate threat.
Stand down.
Chris stayed with Jordan as the accompanying agents returned to their posts.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” Jordan said, smoothing her daughter’s hair. “Just a nightmare.”
“Second one tonight.”
Jordan nodded. “With probably a few more yet to come.”
“Poor kid. How’s Aiden?”
“Still asleep. He’s always handled stressful situations much better than his sister.”
“Sounds like he takes after his mom.”
Jordan smiled. “Don’t be fooled,” she replied. “Inside, I haven’t stopped screaming.”
With her mother’s encouragement, Emma settled back into bed. Jordan tucked her blanket around her and stroked her head until she fell asleep.
“I won’t be sleeping anytime soon,” Jordan said. She lifted herself slowly off the bed, careful not to disturb the child. “The kids will need me again soon enough. I could use a coffee. Care to join me?”
“Sure,” Chris said.
Jordan and Chris sat in the kitchen sipping French Roast and talking. On the opposite side of the room, the window that Rigel had earlier shot out and through which he had entered the home had been sealed off with thick plastic sheets. The forensics team carefully inspected sections of the damaged window frame, dusting it for fingerprints. Outside, spotlights mounted on portable light stands washed the manicured backyard in harsh white light. Lost in thought, surprised by an unexpected camera flash beyond the opaque plastic barrier, Jordan jumped in her chair and spilled her coffee on the table. An FBI photographer stepped out from behind the sealed window and snapped another picture of the scene. The second flash was followed by a third, then a fourth, a fifth.
Chris retrieved a dish towel from the counter and wiped the table.
“You okay?” he asked.
“A little jumpy, I guess.”
“That’s understandable,” Chris said. “Try not to worry. There are ten agents stationed on the grounds and around the perimeter of the estate, plus another eight in the house. No one will get to your family again, Jordan. We won’t let that happen.”
“I know.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
Jordan rubbed her temples. “I know what’s coming. A full-on assault by the media… paparazzi… relentless requests for interviews. Even the funeral service will be a circus.”
“Can’t your father’s company handle the PR?”
“Yes, Farrow Industries public relations will do the best they can. But there’s nothing the press likes more than to cover a tragedy. And I’m not sure if I’ll be able to hold it together at the funeral.”
“Jordan, you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met,” Chris said. “Don’t let them take that strength from you. Show them you’ve got this. And if you need me to be there, I will.”
“Thanks, Chris,” Jordan said. “I’ll never be able to repay you or Director Dunn for all you’ve done to help me and my family.”
Chris smiled. “Are you kidding? Thanks to you the Director is being reunited with his daughters as we speak. I’d say that makes you even.”
Marissa DeSola entered the kitchen, telephone in hand. “Sorry to disturb you, Jordan,” she said. “A Mr. Brian Hartley is calling for you.”
“Who?” Jordan asked, not recognizing the name.
Marissa handed her the portable handset. “He’s with Farrow Industries. Says he needs to speak with you right away.”
Jordan took the call. “How can I help you, Mr. Hartley?”
“Good morning, Mrs. Quest,” Hartley began. “Please accept my apologies for calling you at such an early hour. Believe me when I tell you I wish it were under better circumstances. I’m Chief Legal Counsel for Farrow Industries Worldwide. Sitting with me is Stanton Wilder, Executive Vice-President, Worldwide Commercial Business, and Tess Cole, your fathers Executive Assistant. I’m afraid we have a rather urgent request.”
“Of course, Mr. Hartley,” Jordan replied. “What do you need?”
“We need to meet with you as soon as possible.”
“For what reason?”
“I have in my hand a copy of your father’s living will and his succession plan for Farrow Industries,” Hartley explained. “An emergency meeting of Farrow’s Board of Directors convened several hours ago, immediately after we received confirmation of your father’s death. I’m very sorry to have to be so direct, but as you can appreciate there are certain decisions that must be made right now to ensure Farrow Industries global operations continue uninterrupted and its stock price remains unaffected. I hate to sound melodramatic but, as they say, time is of the essence.”
“I understand, Mr. Hartley” Jordan replied. “How soon do you need to meet with me?”
“Within the hour, if possible.”
“Very well,” Jordan agreed. “Is there anything I need to do to prepare for this meeting?”
“There is,” Hartley replied. “The cover letter to your father’s will stipulates it only be opened in your presence, or in the event you have predeceased your father, an assigned representative. Two other parties are mentioned. Your father wished to have his housekeeper, Marissa DeSola, and your godfather, Grant Carnevale, present at the reading of his will. Do you know if they are still alive?”
“They are. Marissa and Uncle Grant are here with me now.”
“Good. Please speak with them right away. Can I have your assurance they will join us?”
“Yes.”
“Very good,” Hartley replied. “Thank you, Mrs. Quest. We’re on our way.”
60
ONE HOUR LATER, Chris Hanover received notification from the agents stationed at the front gate that the Farrow Industries executives had arrived.
Jordan welcomed her guests in the lobby. Chris introduced himself, then asked for their cooperation as Stanton Wilder, Brian Hartley and Tess Cole were patted down, weapons-checked by members of the protection detail, and their briefcases and personal effects opened and searched. Deemed to be free of weapons and explosive devices, the three were cleared and granted permission to enter the home.
Jordan welcomed the party into her father’s home office. Seated at a small conference table in the corner of the room, Marissa DeSola rose nervously from her chair and joined Grant Carnevale in welcoming the members of the Farrow executive team.
“Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice, Mrs. Quest,” Brian Hartley said after introducing his colleagues. “On behalf of Farrow Industries Worldwide, please accept our heartfelt condolences on the tragic loss of your loved ones.”
“Thank you,” Jordan replied.
“Your father was one of the most astute businessmen I’ve ever worked with,” Stanton Wilder added. Jordan had known him as her father’s colleague for many years. “Thank you, Mr. Wilder,” she replied. “My father spoke of you often. He had a great deal of respe
ct for you and the contributions you have made to his company over the years.”
Wilder accepted the compliment. “It was my privilege.”
Tess Cole spoke. “I know how difficult a time this must be for you, Jordan. I’ve been in contact with Farrow’s Human Resources department. They’ve secured the services of a grief counselor who will reach out to you shortly to help you and your family through what I’m sure is a most difficult and challenging time. Funeral arrangements have been taken care of in accordance with your father’s wishes. Your parents and husband will be interred at the Farrow family plot at Forest Lawn Cemetery in Hollywood Hills in two days. A Celebration of Life ceremony will follow later at the Los Angeles Convention Center. We’ve been flooded with inquiries from your father’s business acquaintances. Hundreds will be attending the memorial to pay their respects to you and your family. The Mayor has requested LAPD’s assistance to control the processional traffic and escort your family to and from the funeral and the ceremony. The President will also be attending. Secret Service is working with our people as well as LAPD and convention center security staff to facilitate his arrival and participation. He’s asked if he could say a few words on your father’s behalf.”
“My family would be honored,” Jordan replied.
Tess smiled and nodded. “I’ll see to it.”
Brian Hartley opened his briefcase, removed several envelopes, and turned to Jordan. “May we begin?” he asked.
“Of course,” Jordan said.
Hartley presented the first document to Jordan and his colleagues. “This is a copy of Farrow Industries Emergency Succession Plan. Your father revised it quarterly. As Chief Legal Counsel for Farrow Industries Worldwide, I was required to meet with him to witness any changes made to the document. My signature can be found at the bottom attesting to the fact that it is in order. As Chairman of the Board, your father took his responsibilities to his stakeholders very seriously. He wanted to ensure that in the event of his sudden or unexpected death any interruptions to the operation of the company would be minimal. Unfortunately, we now find ourselves dealing with such an emergency, thus the requirement for the execution of this document.” Hartley removed three additional envelopes from his briefcase. “Michael further stipulated I meet with Marissa DeSola and Grant Carnevale, in your presence, and present them with these documents, which we’ll deal with in just a minute. Right now, I’d like to turn the floor over to Mr. Wilder.”
The Jordan Quest FBI Thriller Series: Books 1-3: The Jordan Quest FBI Thriller Series Boxset Book 1 Page 23
