Sandy crossed her legs, one bronze leg swinging as she talked. “I was thinking the North Shore, north of Duluth. A resort on the lake. Some hiking, walks along the shore, camp fires at night.”
The Governor nodded, his eyes hiding behind his sunglasses. “I’d like to hike the falls down to the lake. See the lighthouse.”
“That would be fun,” Sandy said. Another bus went by and she continued. “There are some great antique shops up there too...”
His thoughts started to drift with her words. He couldn’t shake the vision of the kid floating away towards the chute. The nagging feeling he had that the kid had survived the fall. He went feet first. Could he have survived a fall? From what Dave had told him about the Chute, he wouldn’t survive the fall, would he?
The muffled words of his beautiful companion continued. “I had a visitor today.” She paused. “Special Agent Fruen stopped by to see me.”
“What?” The vision of the kid floating away popped.
“Have you been listening?”
“We were talking about the North Shore and then you said something about Agent Fruen?”
“Special Agent Fruen stopped by as I was leaving my apartment to meet you for lunch. Can you believe they wear those ties and suits all of the time? In this weather?”
“What did he want?” She had his full attention now.
“Just some follow-up questions about what happened at the bank.”
The Governor stood up. “Come on, let’s take that drive out to Lake Minnetonka and you can tell me all about it. We’ll take the boat out for a spin and jump in the lake to cool down.”
Chapter 14
Jack pulled the car over next to the curb in front of the third house from the corner, the brick rambler with white trim, birches planted in the front corner of the lot, and colorful flowers accenting the picture window flower box. He put the car in park, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and prepared to see his kids. They never failed to show him what was important and what wasn’t. He needed the distraction and the big dose of reality.
Squeezing himself out of the car, he walked up the sidewalk to the door with the mixed feelings of dread and excitement. At the door, he hit the awkward moment; ring the bell or walk in? He felt strange just walking in; he was here at his in-laws where he’d walked in many times before, but now it was different. He didn’t belong. As he stood there trying to decide what to do, he was saved as the door flew open to shrieks of “Daddy!”
He bent over as the two pairs of arms encircled his neck. He stood up with a grunt as the kids hung on so they wouldn’t drop to the floor. “Hi guys, how are you, I missed you!”
“We missed you too, Daddy.”
“I missed you more than he did.”
“No, she didn’t.”
As the argument ensued over who had missed him more, Jack looked at Julie who stood in the hallway, watching.
“Hi, Jules.”
“Hi, Jack. Looks like you have your arms full. You’re right on time for a change. What are the plans?”
Jack absorbed the dig without reacting. “I thought I’d take these monkeys here to the Como Zoo. I think they’ve escaped. We got a call at the office to be on the lookout for two monkeys running loose in this neighborhood.”
“Did you really, Daddy?”
“Sure did. If we’re going to the zoo, you better get your monkey shoes on and get in the zoo mobile.”
The kids ran back into the house to get their things. Jack jammed his hands back into his pockets. “So, how are they doing?” he asked as his eyes moved from hers to over her shoulder to watch the kids.
Jules leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed. “They’re doing OK, but they miss you. A little confused why we’re here and you’re back at the house.” She glanced back over her shoulder. Looking back at Jack with concern, she softly said, “You look tired, Jack. Are you doing OK?”
“Yeah, I’m doing OK.” He thought, but couldn’t say, I miss you guys. “Getting into a new case, helping out a new agent. It’s the Governor bank robber case. You hear about it on the news?”
Julie nodded. They fell into the comfortable banter Jack remembered, talking about a new case, the people involved, where he thought the case was going.
The kids were hunched down at Julie’s feet making monkey noises. “Take us to the zoo,” they squeaked.
Jules took a step forward and kissed Jack on the cheek. “Happy birthday, Jack.”
“Thanks.”
Jack took a hand from each of the kids into his to walk to the car. As they walked down the sidewalk, Jack called back over his shoulder, “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be back late, we’re going to eat too much monkey food and wake you up when we get back.” Then he bent over at the waist and started walking and grunting like an ape. The kids took the cue, swung their arms, and screamed like chimpanzees.
Jack was looking forward to the afternoon. As he drove, his eight-year-old, Lynn, rambled on about the new friends they’d been playing with in grandma and grandpa’s neighborhood. Willy, six, sat quietly in the back adding details to the conversation when Lynn would let him. Neither had asked the tough question yet about what was going on between mommy and daddy, when they were moving home again, why they’d left?
A couple of miles from the zoo, rain started to pepper the windshield and forced a change in plans. The kids picked the St. Paul Children’s Museum and Jack didn’t care as long as he could spend some time with them and have some fun.
At the museum, the kids explored the exhibits. Jack followed the kids into the room with the anthill exhibit and stood off to the side with other parents as the kids put on the ant costumes and climbed through the tunnels of the kid-sized anthill. There were chambers with ants, their enemies, eggs, and tunnels to educate the kids. Lynn and Willy popped up on one side and waved before ducking back in to climb around. Jack felt content and almost normal as he watched and listened to his kids play. It was hard to believe that when the day was over he wasn’t taking them home.
Lynn ran up and grabbed his hand. “Come on, Dad, Willy wants to show you something.” She dragged him over to the anthill entrance, dropped to the ground, and scampered in. Jack lowered himself to his hands and knees with a groan. “Come on, Dad,” pleaded a voice from inside. “Hurry up.”
“I’m coming,” Jack said. He started crawling in on his elbows and knees, anxious to play with the kids and see what they had to show him. He reached the dead end of the tunnel where Lynn and Willy were impatiently waiting.
“Dad, isn’t this cool?” Willy asked. This is where the ants keep their food.
Jack patiently listened, lying on his side, while he was educated on the eating and food storage habit of ants.
“Dad, you have to see the eggs,” Willy said.
“Yeah, Dad, turn around and we’ll take you over there,” Lynn said.
“Easier said than done, kids. This tunnel’s more for ants your size.” Jack tried to turn around, but the tunnel was too narrow. His knees and elbows were sore from the carpet. The kids were impatient and were trying to squeeze by and hurry him out. He tried another move to get out and hit his head. His pulse quickened and he started to breathe harder. His throat shrunk and he gasped and started to sweat. He pushed the kids roughly back into the end of the tunnel. “Wait a minute,” he said a little too loudly.
Jack closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing. He’d had claustrophobic attacks before, but it had been a while. He lay still and tried not to think of where he was.
“Dad, are you OK?” Lynn asked.
“Yeah,” Jack responded. “Just a minute. Don’t move. I have to back out of here.” He lay there without moving for a few more seconds before he slowly backed out of the tunnel. Once out, he pushed himself up onto his knees and took a deep breath. The kids slowly crawled out and looked at him, not sure how to act.
“Come here, guys, give me a birthday hug.” Jack was on his knees with two ants hanging on his neck, wis
hing it could always be like this.
“I think it’s time for us to go get some people food and celebrate my birthday with some cake before I take you back to Mom.”
Chapter 15
The Metro club was always dark. The Governor stopped just inside the entrance and heard the low buzz of voices and the clink of glasses as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, allowing him to see where the noises came from. The Metro was the Minneapolis/St. Paul gathering place for the men in the Russian community. It was here that they spoke quietly in Russian, traded information, made deals, and strengthened relationships. The power brokers controlled who got jobs, what work was done here or in Russia. Small groups of men sat at the bar, others at tables surrounded by mahogany walls and soft lights. The Governor had been to the Metro before and knew he didn’t fit in. He had dark hair like most of the men here, but he was tall and lean. Most of the men looked like the one that was approaching him, a little shorter with short, dark hair, a round face, maybe a mustache and dark clothes, with a cigarette in his hand.
“May I help you? You are here to meet someone?”
The Governor looked at the man and then out into the room. This man was more than a greeter. He was the first barrier into the room for the uninvited. He had a gentle smile and a demeanor that put people at ease, but he also commanded attention through the intensity of his gaze. The Governor saw through the smoke that many of the men were looking back at him. “I’m here to see Vadim.”
“There is more than one Vadim here, I am sure. Can you be more specific?” The man took a drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke up into the darkness.
“Vadim Skarbov, he should be expecting me.”
“I’ll go see if I can find him for you. Why don’t you have a seat at the bar?” It wasn’t a suggestion. The short Russian accompanied the Governor to a seat at the bar before going to find Vadim.
A small glass appeared on the bar in front of the Governor. Holding the glass in his hand, he looked into the mirror behind the bar to see what was going on behind him while he waited for Vadim to appear. He took a sip and smiled. One thing the Russians knew was their vodka and they shared the good stuff with whoever frequented the Metro.
A couple of years before, Vadim had introduced the Governor to the Metro and to good vodka. Vadim had been in town for a national computer hacker’s convention as a speaker on a panel talking about the security of financial information and his past intrusions. He was known for attacking financial companies around the world, accessing information and funds, which he exploited for his own benefit and the benefit of his relatives in Russia. He had served his time after being caught. There wasn’t a lot of publicity outside of the hacker community; banks and companies didn’t acknowledge their losses. To do so would ruin the confidence their customers had in keeping their savings with them. The Governor was able to talk with Vadim at a reception and they developed a partnership of necessity, neither able to succeed without the other, on the plan the Governor had proposed.
After another glass of vodka, the Governor saw the greeter in the mirror standing behind him. “You can follow me.” Walking through the restaurant, he noticed the conversations at the tables ended as he approached and began again in his wake.
At the table in the corner, a man with long, black hair tied back in a ponytail dropped his cigarette in an empty glass and stood when they approached. “Hello, my friend.”
The Governor shook his hand. “Vadim, it’s good to see you.”
Vadim shooed the greeter away with a nod of his head. “Sit. We have some things to talk about. You brought me something?”
“We’re almost there, my friend.” The Governor pulled a package from his pocket and placed it on the table. He pushed the bubble-wrapped item across the table. “I should have the last, most important piece of the puzzle soon.”
Vadim grabbed a knife and slit the tape that held the package closed. He tilted the package and let the contents slide into his open hand. It was a computer hard drive, like the others the Governor had given him. “Do you know what is on here?”
“Vadim, we each have our roles here. I research and steal, you figure out what is on these and how we’re going to use them. No, I don’t know what is on there.”
“None of these is any good without the last piece,” Vadim said.
“Like I said, we’ll have it soon, in the next day or two.” The Governor looked across the table at Vadim. He called him his friend, but he wasn’t a friend. He was a partner. One he had to trust to get what he wanted.
“You wanted something, too,” Vadim said. He pulled an envelope from the seat next to him and placed it on the table. “Your list of agents in Minneapolis.”
“Thanks. I’ll get back to you soon.” He slid back his chair to stand. Vadim reached across and placed his hand on the envelope.
“When you get to your car, look in the envelope and listen to your voicemail. I don’t like what I have found. We are too close to put this at risk. There are two people you can trust. You and me.” Vadim sat back and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. He placed the unfiltered Camel between his lips and lit it. “We will talk soon.”
The Governor started his car in the parking lot to get the air-conditioning going and opened the windows a few inches to let the hot air escape. His fingers slid along the envelope as he contemplated what Vadim said. What was the risk? He tore open the envelope and pulled out the sheets of paper. The first two sheets were an alphabetical list of agents, their addresses, and phone numbers. He found Ross Fruen on the list and looked to see where he lived. Then he looked at some of the other names on the list. They were primarily male, a variety of names, titles, and pay grades. Nothing special, but he had the names he needed to be aware of.
He examined the other two pages and tried to decipher the information they contained. They were phone logs indicating incoming and outgoing calls, duration, source, and destination numbers. One sheet was for Sandy. The other for Ross Fruen. There were some numbers highlighted on each page. He studied these entries and determined that they had called each other. Nothing wrong with that, was there? Agent Fruen was conducting an investigation; she was returning his calls.
The Governor slid the pages back into the envelope and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. Vadim had said to check his voicemail. He looked at the face of the phone and saw that a message was waiting. He didn’t remember any beep indicating a message had come in. He pushed the message button, put the phone to his ear, and waited for the message to begin.
What was he listening to? The message was from Sandy, but it wasn’t for him. He listened once to the whole message, and then listened again from the beginning.
“What the hell?” He pushed the button to listen to the header to see when the call came in and shut his phone to end the call. He yanked the sheets from the envelope again and ran his finger down the list of calls from Sandy’s phone. This morning, with Agent Ross Fruen, thirty-six seconds. What was she thinking?
Chapter 16
Jack decided to start his day with a run downtown. After changing into his gear at the YMCA, he ran down Nicollet Mall, the main street through downtown Minneapolis, about twelve blocks to the Mississippi River. The morning was already hot and sticky, the sun peaking between the office buildings as it rose. He weaved through the pre-caffeinated crowd heading into work, dodging the groups of young men in suits, accountants or attorneys, he guessed, and the odd street people as they moved between prime sitting locations on the mall and the bus stops. Smokers stood outside the buildings getting their morning fix of nicotine. He tried to focus on his running path through the crowd so he wouldn’t run into a light-post, a tree or a bus, but his attention drifted as he approached the groups of young females wearing less than they did during a Minnesota winter. Summer was his favorite season since he moved to the Twin Cities.
As he passed the IDS Crystal Court, he flipped a thumbs-up to the man sitting on the stool on the sidewalk singing God
Bless America, a patriotic tune for the upcoming Fourth of July and one that might trigger an increase in tips.
Deep in thought, Jack kept running, his breathing regular, and his pace constant. He ran across the Hennepin Avenue Bridge, past the Pillsbury flourmill buildings, past the Stone Arch Bridge.
Exhaustion and dehydration brought his thoughts back to focus on his own immediate condition. He was still moving at the same pace, but it was getting harder and he was thirsty. He started thinking about pushing himself to finish the run and hooking up with Junior to plan their day.
Passing the Guthrie Theater above the lock and dam, he was trying to remember where a drinking fountain was when he came upon a group of people and patrol cars at the top of the bank overlooking the old mill ruins. He stopped to look over the scene, standing with the rest of the gawkers.
“Hey, Miller.”
Jack looked to his left for a familiar face, but the glint of the rising sun reflecting off a squad car windshield blinded him.
“I hardly recognized you in your running gear.”
Squinting, Jack stepped to his left and put out a hand to block the glare and to find a face to put with the voice. Searching, he found the face that was looking his way.
“Hey, Patty, there you are. You blinding me on purpose?”
“It’s just my sunny disposition. Come on over.”
Jack walked around the street sign wrapped with the yellow crime scene tape and over to the car. “You have any water with you? I’m dying.”
“Sure, in the van. And the AC’s on too; want to sit inside?”
“No, I don’t want to get your seats all sweaty, but the water would be great.”
Patty came back with a bottle of spring water and handed it to Jack. “Here you go, courtesy of yours truly. It’s car temperature.”
He took the water bottle, unscrewed the top, and chugged the cold water. It ran from his chin and down his chest. Pulling the water bottle from his lips, he raised it and poured some over his head. “Thanks, I really needed that.”
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