by John R. Kess
Beckholm paused. He wanted to understand if there was a good reason for the DA’s hostile tone or if he’d just met the biggest prick in the county. “We are still investigating—”
“Look,” Coleman said, “we’ve got ten dead bodies, including two teenagers. I want suspects, I want more warrants, and I want to find the guy—now!”
“I’ve got ballistics looking at the bullets found in the teenagers to see if they match any of the weapons found on the dead men,” Sheriff Neuhaus said. “Given Elly’s statement, they had no contact with any teenagers. When we find the guy, you may not want to press charges.”
Coleman’s face contorted with anger. “Are you suggesting all of these deaths were some sort of self-defense? One had his throat slit while he was taking a piss.” Coleman stood up. “Another was sleeping when his neck was broken. Are you asking me to ignore this? No way!”
“Calm down, Jack,” Sheriff Neuhaus said.
Coleman threw his notebook into his briefcase. “You two do your job, and you let me do mine. Find the son of a bitch so I can charge his ass.” He slammed the briefcase shut and stormed out.
Beckholm watched the door close. “Well, that went well.”
“Don’t worry. Not even his secretary likes him. Hard to believe he’s been divorced twice, isn’t it?” Neuhaus smiled.
* * *
Agent West was on his office phone when Agent Schwartz appeared in the doorway.
After a hasty “I’ll call you back,” to the person on the line, West asked, “What do you have?”
“Victor Fines, former head of finance for Revolution Records. Seven months ago he was fired for skimming money from the company. He’s the one running this operation.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Victor’s now-deceased wife’s maiden name was Darwitz. Keith is Victor’s nephew. Michael Belgrade’s phone records show he made forty-seven phone calls to Victor in the past six months.”
“I’m going to have this guy up to his ears in warrants and felony charges.” West picked up the phone and began punching numbers.
“Do you want to know why I’m sure he’s behind it?” Schwartz asked.
“Why?”
“He left for Italy last night. He bought the plane ticket a few hours before he left.”
Chapter 21
SATURDAY
“You are an American?” the Italian customs agent asked calmly in perfect English.
“That’s correct.” Victor Fines smiled.
“And what is the purpose of your visit?”
“Business.”
“And what kind of business are you in?”
“Finance, for a record company.” Fines pulled out a Revolution Records business card and offered it to the agent.
The agent inspected the card. “And how long is your stay?”
“A week.”
The silent alarm had been triggered the instant the young officer first scanned Fines’s passport. Keeping Fines distracted had given the guards time to surround the area.
“Sir,” a voice boomed.
Fines turned and saw a uniformed guard aiming an automatic weapon at him.
“Place your hands on your head. You are under arrest.”
* * *
West watched as Beckholm opened his office door. “Good morning,” he said, brightly.
“Is it morning?” Beckholm slumped into one of West’s office chairs. “I can’t keep track anymore. I’m trying to remember what sleep feels like.”
“When did you get in?”
“About an hour and a half ago.”
“Why didn’t you sleep last night?”
“I checked into my hotel, showered, and had just climbed into bed when my phone rang. I got the news they found the helicopter abandoned in Canada.” Beckholm pulled an envelope out of his briefcase. “Here’s everything you’d ever want to know about it.”
“Did you get your report written in time?”
“Yup, the director even thanked me for it.”
“How nice of him.”
“I’m just glad we found her.”
West handed Beckholm a file. “I’m tracking down more information on our ex–Revolution Records VP of finance.”
“Oh, yeah, the guy who skipped the country.”
“Victor Fines was picked up by customs in Italy a few hours ago. It also turns out he purchased some property with a house on it in Montana not far from where you just were. We contacted authorities there, and they got a search warrant. Guess what they found inside the house?”
“What?”
West clicked his mouse a few times and turned his computer monitor toward Beckholm. The picture on his screen showed a heavy door open to a small room, empty except for a single bed, a sink, and a toilet. “The door locked from the outside. I’m sure it was where they were going to stash Elly.”
“Wow.”
“That’s not all. They found the videotape of when Belgrade’s crew kidnapped Elly and shot her bodyguard.”
“This Fines guy is screwed.”
West nodded. “What about the missing guy? Is he just as screwed, or is this a clean self-defense case?”
Beckholm rubbed his eyes. “If you listen to Elly, he killed those people because they were trying to take her. But the local DA views it as a huge killing spree. He’ll go after him as a vigilante at best, a domestic terrorist if he can pull it off. Personally, I hope he’s never found. No offense to you.”
“None taken.”
* * *
Schwartz stared at the spreadsheet full of data from the Wittenbel case. Each of the eight dead men was listed in bold print in a separate column across the top. Schwartz had filled the rows below with the names of anyone associated with the dead, including relatives, friends, and coworkers. Taking a gulp of coffee, Schwartz added columns for each type of weapon used in the killings, pulling them from the list of Montana firearm registrations. He had a new appreciation for how many gun owners lived in Montana. He added columns for anyone employed at Revolution Records or Myers Aviation, employees at the small airport in Montana, as well as anyone who’d previously filed a flight plan on the floatplane found in the lake. Before running his search, Schwartz added one more column for anyone in the United States who had ever had a private or commercial pilot’s license.
What would have been an overwhelming amount of data for someone else was nothing to Schwartz. He quickly wrote a program that searched every column to find the names that showed up in multiple categories. In a flash, Schwartz saw the top twenty common names. Next to each name was the number of hits and in which columns it could be found. The name at the top was common to four lists: Jason Tessier.
“So, who the hell is Jason Tessier?” he asked out loud.
Schwartz scrolled over and saw Jason’s name was common to the Montana firearm registration lists for the 12-gauge shotgun and .338-caliber rifle. Jason had once been a licensed pilot, and he was listed under the floatplane column as having filed flight plans for it. Schwartz typed the name into another general FBI search engine and saw Jason Tessier was a Marine from Montana, where this whole mess had taken place. The owner of the floatplane was Jason’s sister. With another click, Schwartz pulled up Jason’s military record, which showed his status as a Force Recon Marine.
“Oh, my God. No wonder they’re all dead,” he said to himself as he read through Jason’s military training record and combat commendations. “They didn’t stand a chance.”
Schwartz hit the print button and grabbed the report on his way to West’s office. West waved Schwartz in and introduced the tired-looking man sitting across from him. “This is Agent Aaron Beckholm. He’s the field agent on the Wittenbel case.”
“Nice to meet you,” Schwartz said with a handshake. “I have some info for both of you.” Schwartz handed West the printout. “I got him. Corporal Jason Tessier, age twenty-three. His sister is the owner of the floatplane.”
Beckholm said. “He’s Sarah Mill
er’s brother?”
“That’s correct. He is her younger brother.” Schwartz said.
“The one who is supposed to be on deployment in Afghanistan?”
“Yes, but his leave papers say he left Afghanistan twelve days ago. He landed in Missoula a week ago, on Saturday morning, the day before this all began.”
“So his sister didn’t know her brother was home from Afghanistan?”
“It appears that way,” Schwartz said.
“What else do you know about him?” West asked.
“He got his private pilot’s license when he was sixteen. His home address is within ten miles of the airport, and he owns a .338-caliber rifle. He’s a Force Recon Marine. This guy was trained in just about every form of combat and special ops the Marines offer. I’m certain he’s your man.”
“Nice work,” Beckholm said.
West thanked Schwartz and then dismissed him.
Beckholm took a piece of candy from the dish on West’s desk and popped it in his mouth. “I’m going to hate myself for saying this. Call the DA’s office and tell them.”
“Only if you promise to go home and get some sleep.”
* * *
DA Jack Coleman skimmed the fax West had sent. “Jason Tessier, I’ve got you now.”
Coleman picked up the phone and dialed a friend on the police force who owed him a favor. With the officer’s help and the information West had sent, getting an arrest warrant for Jason Tessier was going to be easy.
Chapter 22
A flurry of flashes and whirs greeted Elly as she stepped out onto the hospital lawn dressed in street clothes. Her mom, dad, Nick, and two sheriff’s deputies flanked her as she headed for the clump of microphones. TV cameras rolled as questions were shouted over the buzz of the crowd, but Elly ignored them as she confidently stepped up to the microphones. Cameras and microphones were nothing new to Elly, and she knew how important what she was about to say would be to Jay.
The district attorney had been interviewed a few hours earlier and had fired the first shot by applauding the judge’s decision to issue the warrant for Jason Tessier and stating charges would come very soon. Now it was Elly’s turn to return fire.
“I’d like to thank everyone who has helped me through this ordeal. The outpouring of support has been overwhelming. I’d like to thank the hospital staff, local and federal law enforcement, my family, and all of my fans for your support. I am truly blessed.
“My thoughts and prayers go out to the families and loved ones of the two teenagers who were killed by the same men who were pursuing me. I can’t imagine the pain you’re going through.
“I’d like to thank two men who saved my life. The first is my bodyguard, Kevin McKnight, who sacrificed his life to save mine. You are forever my friend and hero. My thoughts and prayers are with your family as well.
“The second is a Marine named Jason Tessier. His selfless acts kept me alive as we were hunted by armed men who wanted to kidnap me. He protected me for five days, and, while doing so, he was forced to take the lives of some of those men. He put my safety first at all times, and for that I’m truly grateful. I am absolutely furious that District Attorney Jack Coleman has indicated he will press charges. I will not sit back while the man who saved my life is charged. He killed those men to save me and himself. That is not a crime. That is all I have to say at this time. Thank you.” Elly turned and walked away.
Reporters shouted their questions, “How did Kevin McKnight die? When will System Override go back on tour? Where is Jason Tessier?”
Elly ignored them all and got into a van. As it sped off, the reporters followed. Elly’s new temporary bodyguard was at the wheel, and he turned off the highway onto a gravel road that brought them to a heavily wooded area. They pulled to the side of the road where two ATVs were waiting for them. Elly’s dad took the driver’s seat of the van as the bodyguard and Elly jumped on one ATV and Nick took the other. Several vehicles that had been following them came to a stop. They snapped pictures as the ATVs sped off down a trail.
Elly wondered if she was doing the right thing. She knew if Jay had to face the charges listed on the warrant, public outcry would be their best weapon to get the charges dropped, but she wondered if it would be enough.
She knew it was time to turn her attention to finding Jay. Nick had suggested they find someone who knew Jay well, someone who might know where he would go. Jay had told Elly that only one person knew he was home, and she knew Jay’s sister Sarah wasn’t the one. Several yearbook pictures showed Jay standing next to a Chris Pender. She recalled the Pender Brothers’ Helicopter Logging Service T-shirt Jay had given her to wear. She wondered if Chris was the one who knew Jay had come home a week ago.
After ten minutes of riding, they came upon another road, where a car was waiting.
* * *
Chris Pender had been awaiting Jay’s phone call to pick him up at the airport. Flipping through the channels, he stumbled onto the live CNN broadcast and heard his friend’s name. The broadcast turned to live footage of Elly Wittenbel standing outside the local hospital, where she began to address the cameras.
He listened to her speech, and his mouth still hung open even as the cameras showed Elly’s van driving away. He sat in shock as it slowly sunk in: Jay was the one who had helped Elly Wittenbel avoid being kidnapped.
“Holy crap!” Pender said aloud.
Yesterday, he’d found out from his uncles that Elly Wittenbel had been found in the area, but what he’d just heard blew his mind.
He listened to a review of past few days’ events, which included finding a floatplane and numerous dead bodies in the forest. Pender also learned that a warrant had been issued for Jay’s arrest. That meant they didn’t know where Jay was.
“Then where is he?” Pender said to himself.
CNN switched to a reporter standing outside the local courthouse. She described the warrant and then brought in a legal expert to discuss it. The studio newscaster finished the report by reciting Jay’s military record, mentioning that he was a private pilot whose family owned a floatplane.
Pender paced around the house wondering what to do. He thought of calling Sarah, but he didn’t know what he’d say. He wondered if she even knew. The calendar on the fridge made him pause, as he thought back to dropping off Jay at the airport on Sunday morning. He remembered the account he’d just heard on the television and realized Jay had arrived at the airport about an hour before the kidnapping attempt.
A knock at the door stopped him. He glanced out the kitchen window and saw a reporter and a camera waiting for him at the front door. Pender retreated to his room, where he closed all the blinds. When the reporter finally left, he closed up the entire house.
Pender decided he didn’t want to stick around. He packed a bag and drove off, wondering how long it would take for this to blow over. If Jay didn’t turn up soon, it could be awhile.
* * *
Elly, Nick, and her new bodyguard turned off the highway onto a gravel road that wound through the forest and then continued to a flat, wide-open area with several large buildings. The sign on the front of the corrugated metal building said Pender Brothers’ Helicopter Logging Service. Three helicopters were parked in a large clearing behind a nearby hangar. A man in coveralls had his head buried into the side of one of the helicopters as he worked on its engine.
Elly and Nick walked past the open hangar door and saw no one inside, so they approached the man in coveralls.
“Excuse me,” Elly said. “I’m looking for Chris Pender.”
“He’s not here,” the man said without turning around from his work.
“Do you know how I can find him?”
The man said nothing as he continued to work on the helicopter.
Elly exchanged a nervous look with Nick and then asked, “Sir, do you know how I can get a hold of him?”
“Hey, listen,” the man said, sounding annoyed. He finally turned. “I’m really busy and …” The man
froze as he stared at Elly.
“Please,” Elly said. “I need to speak with him.”
“You’re that girl that was almost kidnapped. The one Jay helped, aren’t you?”
Elly nodded. She noticed how the man said Jay, not Jason. “Do you know Jay?”
The man nodded. “Since he was young. My name is Glen.”
Elly was relieved to have found someone who knew Jay. “I need Chris’s help to find him.”
The man wiped the oil off his hands and reached into his pocket. “Just a second.” He pulled out a cell phone. “Let me try and get him.” It only took a few rings. “Chris, I’m at the hangar. There’s a young lady here who would like to speak to you. Hang on.” He handed the phone to Elly.
“Hello, is this Chris Pender?” Elly asked.
“Yeah. Who is this?”
“My name is Elly Wittenbel. I need to speak to you about your friend Jay.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes,” Pender replied.
Chapter 23
SUNDAY
Fredrick Pierce Adolphson III stepped from the Learjet onto the very same tarmac where his client had foiled a kidnapping one week earlier. As a senior partner at Kirsch, Lauer, and Adolphson, the lawyer resembled a Fortune 500 CEO in his black pin-striped suit, custom made for him by a designer in Monte Carlo, and the silk tie given to him last year by the prime minister of Taiwan.
His game plan was simple: this case gets dropped now, and so does the warrant.
Elly Wittenbel had called the CEO of Revolution Records to ask if he could recommend a lawyer licensed in Montana. He quickly recommended Adolphson. The two had gone to law school together.
Adolphson called to set up an appointment with District Attorney Jack Coleman, to which Coleman reluctantly agreed. Jack was waiting in his office when Adolphson walked through the open door.
