Reading about vineyards gave him a different life to ponder. Would he enjoy waking up each day on his own land? Would he feel proud that what was growing in the fields was because of his own hard work? Did he have the ability to create drinkable wines, pitting himself against a steep learning curve, against nature, and against established vintners? Was it even in the realm of possibility or was it only a delightful dream? Would he be creating a financial sinkhole and setting himself up for sure failure?
Mathew wished his Dad was alive to discuss the risk of squandering even part of the fortune that he had inherited. His Dad had left the bulk of his money to Mathew, although he set up a generous trust for Mathew's Mother, as well as a substantial charitable foundation that helped fund her causes. Mathew saw himself as obligated to honor his Dad with a legacy of remembrance. After his whole life of living alone, he found it unexpected that he needed parental approval at this late date. He wanted to talk with Steve, but he would be disappointed that Mathew wanted to leave the FBI. He hated to let Steve down, especially now with all he was doing for him. Mathew decided to seek Ivy's advice sometime when Steve was out of earshot. Perhaps she could assist with how to communicate his decision to Steve.
His life clock was ticking. He had set a deadline of February 9th to have a plan to change his life. Did he have it? Leave the FBI and open a vineyard? From that base, could he put his heart into a search for that elusive woman to share his life? Were these objectives achievable? As so often, a Latin phrase came to him to sum up his mental meanderings, this one from Seneca the Younger -- Non est ad Astra Mollis e Terris Via, The Road from the Earth to the Stars is not easy.
***
As Ivy drove home from work the following Friday afternoon, she was thinking about her relationship with Steve and where it would head. With Mathew healing, Ivy wondered when the two agents would depart. During this time, she had come to see Steve as the man she wanted. The care he gave Mathew, the way he had settled so considerately into her life, how he put Mathew ahead of the case he was on -- all told her so much about him. The more she discovered about Steve, the more she found to appreciate about him.
Mathew had quickly become a part of her life too, a bit like the son she never had. She could not understand how his mother could have only called once and not come out to see him. She almost treated him as an inconvenience. His face lit up when she called, only to be followed by him withdrawing when she dismissed him as not needing her help. Ivy nearly grabbed the phone from him to lecture the self-absorbed woman.
She had just turned off Vista to take the road up to Council Crest, when she noticed an SUV behind her make the same turn. It was a black Ford Cruiser and she had seen it before that day. She realized that vehicle or one like it had been parked across the street from her work parking lot when she drove out. It stood out to her because with its dark shaded windows, it seemed out of place in Portland. She kept her speed a steady 35, then hooked a sharp right away from the road that led to her house, scooted under a little overpass and drove down towards the small Heights Shell station, intending to cross onto Humphrey, follow that twisty-turny road, and if still followed, try to lose the Cruiser in the traffic on Highway 26 while heading back into town.
She stopped for the intersection, waiting her turn in the traffic rotation to cross. The Cruiser pulled off the road about a block behind her, letting a couple of cars pass before moving back in line. Trying to push back her fear, she reached over, moved the car’s controls to dial her cell and hit Steve’s number. It rang four times with no answer. She left a short voicemail as she let her SUV creep forward to the stop sign. She crossed the road and shot down Humphrey knowing that to lose the Cruiser, she would have to drive as fast as the many turnings of the road would allow. She was almost to Highway 26 when her phone rang.
“Ivy? Did you call?”
“Think I’m being followed. Black Ford Cruiser with dark tinted windows.”
“Damn. Where are you?”
“Heading back into town. Didn’t want to lead them home.”
“Good. Is there a hotel where you can park inside that has an attendant?”
Ivy thought quickly. “Fifth Avenue Suites. Valet parking. All inside.”
“Head there. Tell the attendant you may be leaving in a few minutes. Mathew and I will meet you in the lobby. Stay where other people are in the hotel.”
“Got it.”
“I’m going to give my phone to Mathew. Stay on the line with him. I’ll call for a cab and line up a couple of local agents to meet us at Fifth Avenue Suites.”
Ivy found she was shaking and gripped the steering wheel harder. The traffic in front of her on Highway 26 was crawling along. She pounded the steering wheel in frustration. It was the holiday week. Traffic should not be so heavy. In the rear view mirror, she could see the Cruiser coming down the entrance ramp she had taken. She waited impatiently as the traffic stalled, then inched forward. Ivy had enough of the highway. For luck, she reached up and touched the pearl necklace Steve had surprised her with and then swerved over on the shoulder, riding it until she could turn off at the Zoo exit, going as fast as she dared through the park, down past the back of the Japanese Garden and then around the Rose Garden. At the bottom of the road, as the light changed she rolled forward to slip down Park Place. In her rearview mirror, she saw the Cruiser nose around the last turn coming out of the park like a stalking panther.
“Mathew, he’s still with me.”
“You got your roscoe?”
“In my purse.”
“Get it out just in case. Slip it into your coat pocket when you are near the hotel.”
Ivy waited impatiently by the MAC club as people strolled across the street. She could feel nervous sweat soaking her blouse. Once at the light, she flew as fast as she dared up the street, planning her route as she went -- scoot down Salmon, hook various turns, then cut over to Washington and into the Fifth Avenue Suites lot under the building. Soon traffic slowed and she wound up jockeying her way around. She kept checking her rear view mirror. No sign of the Cruiser behind her.
“Mathew, I think I lost him.”
“Great! I’m in a cab heading to the hotel. Slow going -- traffic is a mess. Steve took off running. You okay?”
“Scared, but okay.”
“Wait for me in the lobby.”
Washington was all backed up but it was her only choice for the remaining two blocks to get to the hotel. Ivy sat through three lights before she could inch her way to the right block. She looked around the cars to see Steve was running down the street to the hotel. She started tooting the horn. He jerked his head around, saw her, changed course and ran for the passenger side of the SUV.
“I think I lost them,” she said as he jumped into the car.
“FBI on their way. Portland police alerted. I was so damn glad to see you when I heard that horn. Good idea to imitate the knock we use.”
“I couldn’t see the number on the Cruiser, but it looked like a California plate.”
“How many in the vehicle?”
“At least two.”
“Bastards.”
Ivy swung into the lot, edged her way down the ramp and stopped by the parking attendant. After giving him the key fob, she stepped out of the car. Her legs were trembling and she had to walk leaning against Steve over to the elevator that would take them up to the hotel lobby.
“Somehow the perp must have linked us to Portland and to you,” Steve said.
“Who knows about us?”
“Brian and Moll. I told them our location was top secret.”
“Your boss?”
“All I told him was that I would be out of the office and to reach me by cell or email. I told the Chief, but only in general terms.”
“Human Resources?”
Steve thought for a moment. “Maybe Mathew’s medical services. Maybe that was a tip off on our location. From that, someone could have put two and two together.”
“Or Brian’s travel r
ecords out to meet with you.”
“Maybe. He flew in and out of San Francisco; the flights involving Portland went on my personal credit card.”
“Too many holes to keep plugged up.”
“Yeah.”
They were standing near the front desk where they could see the hotel entrance. “Here’s Mathew.”
He limped up slowly, leaning heavily on his cane. One of the agents who had helped with their relocation to the apartment ran in. For the next half hour, they briefed him on who they really were and gave him a situational overview. Steve placed a call to the Chief who in turn called the Special Agent in charge of the Portland office, giving Steve authority over the follow-up actions. Since their cover was blown, they decided to go to the apartment, pack up their things and move to Ivy’s house where they could best protect it and her. The FBI would arrange for on-site agent surveillance there as well as watch the apartment. If the perps knew about Ivy, then her home address would be known to them too. In the meantime, the police would try to apprehend the perps in the Cruiser.
“What’s next?” Ivy asked.
“Expect to have an agent tailing you to and from work, shopping or wherever you go. They will have a monitoring van in the garage. I would offer to leave town, but I think you could still be in danger. Alternatively we could all go to another city.”
“I want you here and I have to be at the office next week -- my replacement starts on Wednesday.”
“Then we stick with the plan, if it is okay with you.”
Ivy nodded and then reminded Steve of his promise that any beefed up security at her house would not include any bugs planted inside. Privacy was something she had to have. Right then all she wanted were Steve’s arms around her and she realized that sometime in the last three weeks she had crossed an unseen threshold between choosing to be in control though isolated to being loved and dependent. Scared though she was, that thought let Ivy know that she had traveled through one of life’s major passages.
On Sunday, they returned to the apartment and finished cleaning it out. Steve had already paid the rent for January, so it would remain under surveillance. While Ivy sorted out the kitchen, the two men cleaned the other rooms, did the laundry and put the apartment back to how they originally found it. On the way back to her house, they picked up groceries and champagne to celebrate the New Year, since they would be staying in for the holiday.
At home Ivy found herself lamenting that her charming house with its views out to the southern hills, its hedged perennial gardens, its warm brick patio, and its gracious, comfortable interior, had become what she thought of as fed central. As usual in winter, the weather was rainy, with occasional dustings of snow that quickly melted as the temperatures rose into the forties during the day. Life outside went on. Inside her home everything had tilted and felt different. It was now an FBI recovery center and a planning center, with agents handling security round-the-clock. She doubted she would ever feel the same about the house again, and yet how much fuller her life was now with Steve and Mathew in it.
Steve did his best to avoid any extra burden on her. He was there each day when she returned from work and opened the back door, having jogged down the steps when hearing the toot of her horn as she passed the house on the way down to the garage. Sometimes using his wireless headset, he was in the middle of a briefing from Brian or Moll, nevertheless he never missed that time to smile at Ivy, kiss her, and carry in whatever she was bringing home. While the black Cruiser had escaped detection and the perps had not yet surfaced, each of them knew it was only a matter of time until their lives would be shaken up again.
Chapter 10
On the 10th of January, the weather in Portland had been showery with occasional sun breaks. After work, Ivy stopped at the local organic food store for a couple of freshly roasted chickens, salad ingredients and other groceries and then headed up the road to her house. The weather up on the hill was mild for January and a foggy mist was starting to rise giving her a feeling of foreboding. When she arrived home, Steve seemed apprehensive and Mathew could not meet her eye. Something was up and Ivy figured it had to do with the Bureau.
"Big Guy," she said, without even a hint of a smile. "I think you had better make us all stiff drinks."
Steve gave her one of his assessing looks, nodded and headed to the little bar by the kitchen. Their habit was to share cocktails or wine before dinner like a regular family while they talked about their days. Ivy could tell this evening would not be a cozy chat over drinks. Steve had a fire going in the living room, but she noticed he had a half-packed suitcase out on the bed. Mathew was near the fire in an armchair. Once he made the drinks, Steve sat at one end of the leather couch. Instead of taking her usual place next to him, Ivy pushed over an ottoman and sat facing both of them.
"Ivy, I had a call today from the Chief," Steve began, as was his style, starting right in without any preamble. "We think we have located the head of the drug operation on a yacht off the coast of Mexico. We are working with the Navy and the DEA to organize a search and capture mission. The yacht is anchored off an inhabited island. The thought is to bring a ship in a couple of miles away to track it if they run. We will approach the boat from the air, rappelling down out of a chopper. Surface vessels might alert the perps to set sail, however the yacht is under a regular flight pattern. Our chopper will swoop in a bit lower."
A frisson of fear skirted around Ivy's heart. "They want you to head up the mission."
"Like I said, it's a joint operation. We’ll have lots of support."
"And you've done this before, rappelling out of a helicopter?"
"In training. We'll do a couple of refresher test jumps. The Navy Seals will go first to handle the lines for getting the rest of us down."
"Ivy, it's not as hard as you think," Mathew interjected. "I was scared shitless the first time we did it in training. However you follow a set routine and you're down in a matter of seconds.”
Ivy glared at Mathew and then at Steve. "You could get shot up like Mathew. I know it is what you do, but I don’t like this one bit.”
"If I don’t go, Brian will be designated to go in my place. He is not ready for this. These joint operations are tricky enough, without having to rappel out of a chopper, direct the operation, seize control of the vessel, and apprehend the perps before they kill you."
"Why can't another leader go?"
His eyes were solemn. He held his tongue.
Mathew jumped in to further his cause. "None of them are as good as Steve. None I would trust with my best friend's life. Next to you two, Brian is my best friend. He took a bullet for me in Bulgaria, for chrissakes. I can't go with this bum leg. Ivy, while I am reluctant to ask this on top of all you have done for me, please think about it."
Ivy felt boxed in. Choices were tough when they involved duty, loyalty and friendship. What about love? What about the danger to Steve?
"If you get this drug lord, won't another pop up in his place?"
Steve shook his head. "This perp is very strong, powerful, and mega-wealthy. He keeps the logistics of the drug business in Colombia organized. Without him, it will fragment, making it easier to shut down smaller units. When we have gone after him before, all we nabbed were some lesser guys and some actor hired to play his part. It's vital that we apprehend him."
"How can you be sure it's him this time? Him on this yacht in the middle of wherever?"
"Six months ago, the DEA infiltrated. They set up their own little drug packaging operation, headed by one of their people and let him be consolidated into the big ring. He sent an encoded message about this setup. He's been invited for a weekend with the drug lord as a reward for how well his drug operation is performing. We have to arrest this Astuto character and get the DEA agent out."
Ivy was overwhelmed by this talk of drug lords, undercover agents, climbing down a rope out of a helicopter into an explosive situation. The love of her life wanted to play soldier at 60. She needed fresh air a
nd time to think. "I'm going for a walk."
Steve stood up.
"Alone."
"Ivy!"
"Alright, come with me. Do not talk."
Ivy leashed up the dogs and walked for about twenty minutes in the misty air with Steve staying silent at her side. With night settling in, the air had lost the mildness of the afternoon becoming a damp misty cold that crept insidiously under rain jackets and sweaters. Only a couple of people were out with their dogs, their shoulders hunched against the chill. She kept a fast pace until she calmed down enough to think clearly. She was so afraid that this could be the last time she saw Steve and she would have let him go to his death. She had to find some way to make this mission safer for him. Even he had to realize that he was not invincible. Mathew had been his second set of eyes and brain. An idea came to her. She reached over and took Steve’s hand and turned around to hustle home, things straight in her head. After walking back into the house, Ivy took a long slug of her Old Fashioned, looking first at Mathew and then at Steve.
"All right. You have my support on one condition."
The two men waited.
Ivy pointed to Mathew and herself, "We get looped into the operation. Steve, you and Brian must have two-way communications with Mathew from when you take off in that damn chopper until you are back on safe ground. I will listen in so I can know what is happening, when it happens. I will sign a code of secrecy or whatever. Most importantly, I want Mathew’s brain with you."
"Ivy, we can't do that," Steve took a step towards her.
"Find a way," she said stonily. They faced each other as two strong, determined people in love.
Mathew struggled up, leaning on his three-footed cane and began talking in his smooth, convincing voice. Within a few sentences, he succeeded in getting the stubbornness off Steve's face, drawing him into planning how to do technically what Ivy asked for and how to sell it to the Bureau. Now at least she would be plugged in and having Mathew there by voice would give Steve an extra resource.
Old Growth & Ivy (The Spook Hills Trilogy Book 1) Page 13
