by Scott Cook
The text list was written in green, and when the tricorder neutralized them, they turned red. At the moment, the motion sensor and the security video were deactivated. I grinned and walked up until I was standing just outside the fence. I then activated that item.
There was a click, a pause and then the quiet whir as the electric motors of the gate began to open the twin barriers. I slipped through and moved quickly up the drive and immediately to my right, where a set of decorative evergreen bushes sat. I activated the gate again, sending another signal that would reverse the current command it and it began to close before it had opened more than a third of the way.
I wasn’t sure how far the camera or the motion sensors scanned. My guess would be that they only pointed to the gate and beyond, not inside. It didn’t matter that much because once I walked more than another eight or ten paces, the tricorder would be out of range and the systems would come back on. I began to move at an angle toward the nearest house. Secondarily, I hoped that there was no alert system for the gate opening.
Not much I could do about that now. And as I walked, I saw the list of EM sources blink off the screen. I kept the device in hand so I could scan each house as well.
“Well, here we go…” I muttered. “These nice folks invite you to tour their facility, and you go and break into their compound and their homes. Right neighborly… but then again, par for the course when dealing with the Evil Doctor Jarvis!”
13
I stood in the deep shadows next to the first house and pondered my situation. The homes were arranged in a row, with the central drive from the gate continuing between the center two homes to stop at a small group of parking spaces in front of the large pool. It split off to either side, giving access to the fronts of all of the homes. Each home was more or less the same, a four or five-bedroom two-story with porches in front and probably out back too.
One problem I faced was that I didn’t know whose house was whose. Undoubtedly, one belonged to Marcus and Natalie, one to Veronica and one to Andrew. Probably Sarah Beth had her own home as well, since there were four of them. Yet which one belonged to which Bradford? It wouldn’t do to break into an occupied house.
The house just to the left of the central drive had a couple of lights on, so at least I could eliminate that one. I stood at the corner between the other center house and the one on the far right. Neither of those nor the far left house had lights on. Thankfully, I did have a couple of James Bondy gadgets to help me.
I switched my night-vision monocular to thermal mode and activated the tricorder again. Although the thermal vision couldn’t see very far inside walls, if somebody was near one, or if they were in a room near a window, the heat they generated or from some other source would show through the window. Also, the tricorder should tell me what, if any, electronic devices were operating within.
Somebody was indeed inside the house to the right of the driveway. There was also a series of motion sensor-activated lights around the exterior. The tricorder detected these along with a TV upstairs. I moved toward the next house fifty feet away and could look back and see a thermal signature from a window near the rear of the house I’d just been hiding next to.
The last house seemed to have no occupant. There were motion-sensitive floods too, but I was able to deactivate them and make my way up onto the front porch. Interestingly, there was no alarm system active inside. Probably figured a security gate and electrified fence were enough to keep the curious out.
I went to work on the front deadbolt and got it open in short order. I then slipped into the house, switching my monocular back to night vision mode.
Immediately, I could see that this was Veronica’s house. The décor was similar to that in her Saint Pete home but with heavier earth tones. What was probably tan leather furniture in the living room along with granite-topped end and coffee tables. Tall, modern, thin-stemmed lamps sat on doilies and on the huge fireplace’s mantle were several photos of Veronica and a man who closely resembled both Andrew and Marcus. Julius Bradford had a huge smile in all of the pictures and never seemed to fail to have an arm around his lovely wife. Although he resembled his son and brother, Julius had an indefinable quality, at least in the photos. I couldn’t say what it was, but his smile and the smile in his eyes gave me the impression of great warmth. The kind you couldn’t fake.
I moved through the house, poking into drawers and closets. Nothing really struck me as a clue. Perhaps the only clue was the conspicuous lack of Julius’ belongings. After a year, Veronica had probably gotten rid of most of his clothes and other items in an attempt to move on. Natural and probably healthy.
There were four bedrooms upstairs, with the master being a large suite that took up most of the rear of the house. It held a huge sleeping area with a king bed, two large walk-in closets full of women’s clothing and a large bath with a shower and oversized garden tub. The bedroom portion also featured a pair of French doors that led to a balcony that overlooked the rest of the property and the mountains beyond.
It was a bit stuffy in the house. Not warm enough, at least at that time of night, for the air conditioning to come on. I opened the French doors to let in some air, and my ears caught the ghost of a conversation coming from somewhere to the left.
The last gadget I had in my sexy pouch was the audio enhancer I’d used at Dr. John Pak’s home a few months earlier. Essentially a parabolic dish that unfolded and a built-in amplifier with a set of earbuds. I put these in my ears, unfolded the device and activated it, aiming it to my left and toward the other houses. I could also see three people standing behind the house next door. Andrew, Jean and Sarah Beth.
“Something activated the gate,” Sarah Beth stated.
“I saw that too,” Andrew said. “But nothing shows on the video. And the log shows the gate only swung open for a second and then closed again. Probably a surge tripped it for a second.”
“What the hell, Andy?” Sarah Beth asked irritably. “What’s the point of having a security gate if it can just open by itself!”
“I’m sure it’s all right,” Jean said. “We can have Tyrell take a look at it in the morning.”
“Maybe it’s not a glitch,” Sarah Beth continued. “Maybe we’ve got a damned snooper on our property.”
“What?” Andrew asked.
“Oh, come on, Andy!” Sarah Beth grumbled. “That Jarvis asshole didn’t just come up here to tour the fucking hangars! Ronnie sent him here to spy on us. She thinks one of us real Bradfords tried to have her killed.”
“Well, somebody did,” Jean said. “Can’t blame her for being suspicious.”
“Doesn’t mean it was us!” Sarah Beth spat. “Just because we want to get her off the board and make sure that Bradford Avionics is a Bradford controlled company doesn’t mean we’re murderers! That’s really fucked up.”
“Well, maybe she’s right,” Andrew put in. “Maybe just not who she thinks. But none of us can deny that we’d all benefit if Ronnie… well, if she wasn’t around anymore.”
“Andy…” Jean said quietly.
“Well, it’s a fact, isn’t it?” Andrew asked. “She wouldn’t be the CEO. That means one of us would, probably Uncle Mark. But it also means that the three of us Bradfords would have majority control over the company.”
“Yeah… us and Franklin,” Sarah Beth pointed out flatly.
“Yeah… he is the CFO,” Andrew admitted.
“And he’s not a Bradford,” Jean stated.
“No… but we need him,” Andrew said. “He’s sharp and has kept a steady hand on this company’s tiller for almost as long as dad did. Even has a hand in R and D. Lot of good ideas.”
“And he does agree with us about the IPO,” Sarah Beth pointed out.
“Yeah… I don’t get that,” Jean cut in. “I never have. I’m surprised you guys want to open the company up like that, considering how you feel about family ownership.”
“It gives us a lot of new capital,” Andrew stated. �
�As we’ve said before, we can expand and grow. We can also make sure that with all the Bradford shares combined, we can’t be leveraged out. Yeah, Ronnie wants to keep the company private… but there’s no way she can get anybody to fund our expansion.”
“Exactly,” Sarah Beth snapped. “She keeps it privately controlled… but privately controlled by her. Maybe she doesn’t want the Boeing or Airbus deal to go through. It wouldn’t hurt her, would it?”
“Okay, okay,” Andrew said a little wearily. “It’s getting on to eleven for cryin’ out loud. I don’t want to stand out here and rehash this over again. Jean and I will take a quick look around the property, Sarah. You use the cameras and see if you see anything. I personally think it’s a glitch. We’ll take a quick look and then we’re going to bed.”
“Fine…” Sarah Beth bemoaned.
The group broke up. The conversation hadn’t been particularly revealing. Other than continuing to confirm my opinion of Sarah Beth as being a spoiled brat in any case. Nobody admitted to anything, and they did have a point. It wouldn’t only be the Bradfords who’d benefit from Veronica’s demise. Certainly Wilfred Franklin, who already held considerable power, might achieve more should the IPO go through. Hell, there were probably others, too.
And did they have a point? Was Veronica trying to hold so tight onto the reins that she’d sabotage the company’s next big expansion? She certainly already had a multi-million-dollar personal income. It wasn’t like she needed more… my instincts told me that wasn’t so. She seemed genuinely interested in and excited about the growth of BA.
Of course, the fact of the matter was that I hadn’t known her long. I didn’t know much more about Veronica than I did the rest of the Bradfords. For all I knew, she was simply being paranoid. Maybe her situation was unrelated. That was hard to buy, though.
Perhaps it was only a scare tactic. Frighten her half to death and get her to bow out. But then she goes and hires me, showing that she doesn’t scare easily and is willing to fight. Then things escalate…
There was just too much to be suspicious about and far too little evidence. I sighed, resigning myself to the fact that all I could do was to keep blindly fumbling in the dark… literally at the moment… until I stumbled into something.
I spent another half hour or so going through the bedroom. This part always left me with a sense of griminess. As if I were being coated in a fine layer of road dust. Something about poking through people’s most private spaces, searching for their secrets, or for those things they didn’t normally show or talk about… it was uncomfortable.
People’s bedrooms and their dresser drawers and nightstands were often a direct window into their privacy. It was there that you could find hints as to their private sexual desires and habits, for example. Lubricants, vibrators, dirty magazines and more laid open a person’s innermost self and gave the snooper unasked for… and in this snooper’s case… unwanted access to things that weren’t offered.
Thankfully, in this case, there was nothing like that. Only clothing, makeup and the various feminine items that a beautiful and successful woman would want and need. There was one strange item, though. A framed poem that was lying at the bottom of one of the nightstand drawers. I found it odd that it shouldn’t be hung up for viewing. Having little choice, I read the short lines entitled Sweet Rose.
Oh, sweet Rose…
Growing ever sunward, lovely and tall.
How your color is admired… how your scent is desired.
Oh, sweet Rose… your beauty touches us all…
Yet you, sweetest Rose…
You shall never know the gentle kiss of the sun.
Shall never bask in the cool morning dew…
Oh, sweetest Rose, thou shall never know the fun.
Shall never quiver at the touch of one who so loves you…
Oh, sweet Rose…
What might you have been, if but your seed could have grown?
Oh, sweetest Rose…
What beauty might we all have seen?
If but your bloom could have shown.
Oh, sweet Rose…
For though you never saw the light.
And dwell now only in eternal night…
Even now and from the start,
You will live forever in my heart.
Oh, my sweetest Rose.
I sat in the dark, staring at the lines for a long moment. My heart was heavy with the emotion that poured from them. There was such sadness in those few words, such remorse and regret. I wondered who’d written them.
Emily Dickenson, perhaps? Elizabeth Barret Browning? They were certainly penned by a woman, although there was no signature. I couldn’t be sure, but the sentiment seemed pretty clear to me. Some poet had lost a child. A child who perhaps died in childbirth and never knew what life could bring.
I took a picture of the poem to try and match it up later. It seemed odd to me that Veronica would have such a gloomy bit of verse framed like that. It seemed out of character for her. Then again, as I’d noted before, I didn’t know her that well and so who knew what lay in her heart.
It was after midnight when I finished my search of Marcus Bradford’s home. Like Veronica’s, I found nothing particularly interesting. In fact, there was little in the house at all, except for some clothing for a man and woman. There was little in the way of heirlooms, keepsakes or even photographs. The house seemed to lack a bit of character, like what one might find in a second home rather than in one’s primary residence. I wondered if the ranch in LaBelle was what Marcus and Natalie considered their primary home.
I went back out through the gate just as I had before. This time, however, I left it wide open and didn’t bother to shut it again. That would give the kids something to ponder in the morning.
Jean called me at eight o’clock the next morning to inquire about my plans for the day. I said I really wasn’t sure, and she asked if I wanted to have breakfast and figure that out. I agreed.
Between the motel and the airfield was a restaurant that was primarily used by the staff of BA and visiting pilots, crews and VIPs. I met Jean there at nine and we got a booth next to one of the large bay windows that looked out over the runways.
“Busy place,” I commented. “Big, too.”
“With several thousand employees and other visitors,” Jean said as she prepared her coffee. “The place stays busy all the time. Nearest bit of civilization is a half-hour away. So a lot of us come here regularly.”
I drank some coffee.
“What’re your plans?” she asked. “When are you headed back to Florida?”
I smiled at her, “Trying to get rid of me? Now that we’re on opposite sides.”
She smiled, “No we’re not. Just because I’m with Andy doesn’t mean I’m automatically Veronica’s adversary. Or yours. Don’t let Sarah Beth’s attitude taint your judgement.”
I shrugged and drank some more coffee. It was pretty good coffee.
“Ronnie and I are good friends,” Jean said. “Yeah, it’s a little strained right now because of the situation… but I try to stay out of family business as much as I can.”
“Gonna be kind of hard when you’re Mrs. Andy Bradford,” I pointed out.
She shrugged, “Maybe the personal stuff, but as far as the corporation, I could care less. I get paid well, get to fly a fancy jet and my fiancé treats me good. What more can a girl ask?”
The server arrived, took our orders and topped off our coffees. I considered her for a long moment.
“What?”
“What do you think of all this IPO stuff?” I asked. “Whose side are you on there?”
Jean shrugged again, “Don’t care, to be honest. In my view, we can’t lose. If Sarah Beth and Franklin get their way, the company triples in size maybe. Great. If Veronica gets her way, it triples in size too. Also great. If Veronica gets her way and the new contracts flop… we stay a two-hundred plus million-dollar company and continue to thrive and possibly grow slower. That
’s great, too. No matter what, I get a six-figure income and I’m about to marry a millionaire. What the hell difference does any of it make? I’ve got a great life, a great job and regularly get to beach and boat in Florida and go horseback riding in Wyoming. Not a hell of a lot for this ex-Navy kid to complain about.”
I chuckled, “I see your point.”
“Speaking of horses,” she said with a gleam in her eye. “You ride?”
“I’ve mounted a few in my day,” I quipped.
“We talkin’ horses or girls?” Jean asked with a wink.
“Never suspected you had a dirty side,” I said.
She scoffed, “Navy, remember? Anyway, you ever ride horses?”
“Here and there,” I said. “It’s been a few years, but I’m not half bad. Why?”
“Well, you’re in cowboy country, sailor,” she said. “Might as well enjoy the sights before we take off. When did you want to fly back, by the way?”
I sighed, “Probably later today or in the morning. I don’t see there’s much more I can do here. I really think Veronica wanted me to meet the Bradfords and get a sense of them for myself. Other than that, what can I do?”
“And now that you have? Met them, I mean.”
I shrugged, “I’m nowhere. Sarah Beth seems like a hothead, but that doesn’t mean she’s a murderer. Your fiancé, like his uncle, seems levelheaded and is taking it all in stride.”
“And Will?”
“Seems like a nice, capable man,” I stated. “There’s nothing here that makes me think anybody is out to murder Veronica. Doesn’t mean they aren’t, but nothing I’ve seen says they are, either.”
