She handed the agent the white paper bag and explained it was the blindfold used by the abductors. She understood it might well be useless. Agent Hastings sneered, had her sign and date the outside of the bag and put it in his briefcase.
He then took out his note pad and a recorder. He placed the recorder on the table between them, clicked it on and stated a few formalities about time, place and persons present. After the routine demographic questions, he led her into a narration of what had transpired. It seemed the further she got into her version of the episode the more he began to challenge her responses, making judgmental comments and glaring at her with his practiced accusatory stare.
After thirty minutes, Martin interrupted, “This has gone far enough. We’re through here. Miss Reid understands the problem she’s created for you by taking action on her own and not calling in the authorities before complying with the culprit’s demands. Whether it was an error in her judgment remains to be seen. What we do know is you are becoming rude and abusive. We know you’re upset. You don’t have a neat typical kidnapping here. Your main complaint seems to be you’ll have to work harder. Now live with it.”
The agent frowned at Martin, reached out and turned off the recorder.
“He’s right, you know,” Sandy spoke up, “lecturing me on what I should have done doesn’t help getting my observations on what occurred.”
“I’ve barely scratched the surface of what you should have done. A lawyer should have known better.” He pointed to the recorder. “Did you leave anything out of this?”
“I included the sights, sounds and smells that I can recall, and my attempt to describe their disguised voices. I left out my own grunts, groans, sighs and assorted manifestations of horror over the terrifying two hours I was tied up, threatened and held hostage.”
“I’m sorry about that. Nevertheless, nothing you’ve said so far seems particularly helpful.”
“Then let’s go over it again. We’re all exhausted. I’ll be happy to reschedule this interrogation after we’ve all rested.” Then she had another thought, “You have your laptop with you?”
“Of course, why?”
“Here’s my phone.” She took it out. “I took snaps of every vehicle, and their license plates, in the parking lot after I made the money-drop. You can copy the photos to your laptop right now.”
He nodded at that. He booted his laptop and found a transfer cord while she located the photos on her phone.
She kept talking while he was fussing connecting the transfer cord. “I don’t believe the bad guys would have been dumb enough to park there, but some of those people parking there might have seen something significant. Hey, stop rolling your eyes at everything I say.”
“I copied about fourteen. Does that sound right?”
She nodded. “Now some plates are from out of state. Get right on this or they’ll be leaving town.”
That unnecessary observation earned her one more dirty look from him.
This particular agent was most likely an okay guy she imagined, if she’d met him under other circumstances. Just then, however, he was being a jerk even if a good looking jerk. “I’ve given you some useful information. Are you going to follow up on what you have? I’ve a definite interest in what you’re doing, you know.” She noticed him rolling his eyes again.
Originally, she was uncertain about how involved in the investigation she wanted to be. She had carried out the money-drop part of it; she could now let the authorities take over. She had a workload of cases in the office and as important has finding Jane and recovering the money was, she couldn’t devote full time to the investigation anyway. Plus, Chip had admonished her in the past to butt out and let the professionals take over. Nevertheless, when the agent rolled his eyes again it was too much, she changed her mind and made the firm decision that she could not keep out of the investigation, could not just stand back let the FBI take over and not be aware of what was going on.
She said, “First order of business is to locate and apprehend that couple who stepped onto the bridge as I stepped off. They probably have the money. I can get started as soon as the police can ID the shooting victim in the park.”
“Look, Ma’am, if you want to start somewhere then start by staying home. If something comes up, we’ll let you know. This is official FBI business. We don’t need you putzing around.” He started jamming his notes and equipment into his briefcase like an annoyed kid picking up his toys and going home.
“I don’t give a damn about official FBI business,” she said. “Putting a gun to my head, scaring the shit out of me and stealing four hundred grand are my business. I’ll putz around where I please, thank you very much. And don’t roll your eyes at me one more time!”
“God help me. She’s Nancy Drew with an attitude.”
Chapter Eight
Sandy and Martin walked down the hall from the police interrogation room and out the parking area exit. He walked her over to her car. “I get the feeling the FBI aren’t going to be very aggressive about this case.”
“Agent Hastings is upset because I threw them off their game plan. They like to have a missing person, then a ransom note, then the money-drop and then the arrest.”
“And sometimes a dead victim, if the captors don’t fully understand how they’re supposed to play the FBI game,” he said. “I, for one, believe you did the right thing. Give them the money and no one gets hurt. Chase after them later.”
“Thanks, Martin. I needed that vote of confidence. You know, I’m not comfortable leaving all this is their hands.” She got in and lowered the window. “Maybe it’s best if the FBI aren’t all over this case. I can do my thing without bumping into them.”
“You mean, we can do our thing. Don’t even think of leaving me out of this. Don’t ask me how you’re going to square all this with Chip.”
She shrugged. “I’d love to have you along.” She blew him a kiss and started her car.
Martin chanted, “See Jane run. Run Jane run,” as she drove away.
As she pulled out of the police station parking lot, her phone buzzed. Chip said, “Tell me you’re all right.”
“I’m fine. Geez, I’m glad to hear your voice.” Here we go, she thought. The inevitable confrontation with him would take place earlier than she’d expected.
“I know it’s late. I finished my assignment and just checked in with Stabler. He told me to phone you...that you’d be up and would want to speak with me.”
“What a guy.” She assumed the chief told him what was happening.
“So, how do you feel?” he asked.
“I just left an FBI interrogation, but I’m much better since I’m talking with you.”
“I just got home. Why aren’t you here?”
She wasn’t in the mood to go over all of it one more time with him. So she said, “Because I’m dead tired and must talk to Jaworski first thing tomorrow. I thought I’d go back to my place.”
“Sandy, I heard about the kidnapping and got a brief rundown on what happened in the chief’s office. You’ve been through hell, sweetheart. We won’t talk about it tonight. Just come over. I want to hold you close to me.”
“I can’t refuse that offer.”
Chapter Nine
At breakfast the next morning, Chip said very little about how Sandy had handled herself during the ordeal and none of his comments were especially critical of her. The big expected confrontation with him never happened. She’d never doubted that Martin would side with her, but she thought it was great that Chip also hadn’t come down on her. Where’d he get all that faith in her?
It helped that he was incredibly relieved she’d made it through the nightmare relatively unscathed. He appreciated that she tried to protect him and would pay the money or do whatever was demanded because she loved him. He seemed to be taking a philosophical attitude; he understood what had gone on, what else was there to say? For better or for worse, the money drop was a done deal, he said. No point in her beating herse
lf over it.
“Just don’t get personally involved in trying to get the money back,” he made that point twice. “It’s now in the hands of the authorities. Let them do their job.”
She left his house and was at the Park Beach police building, at eight that morning. As she exited the elevator on the second floor, Judy Nagler came over and greeted her. Judy was a uniformed police officer specializing in crime analysis and known to be sharp and serious about her career. An excellent resource inside the department, she had helped Sandy and Martin officially and unofficially several times in the past.
Judy and Martin had been seeing each other. After a few dates, they had become an item. Martin would occasionally dream about settling down anyway and had flipped over the cute blonde almost from the start. Almost immediately, he pictured her as a wife never as just a date. Her situation was more complex as she was a single mom with a teenage daughter she had to consider, before changing their lives by taking the remarriage leap. Sandy liked her but they weren’t close. She didn’t know where Judy stood on the subject of marriage.
Judy said, “Sorry about your horrible episode. Must have been terrifying.”
Sandy thanked her for the concern.
“Eddy’s down the hall. Go ahead and sit in his cubicle. I’m already working on your case.” Judy turned and went back to her cubicle.
Detective Sergeant Eddy Jaworski was a law enforcement veteran who successfully combined a friendly demeanor with a no-nonsense attitude. When Sandy needed something confidential, she’d go directly to him. Hard not to like a guy who trusts you. He often worked directly under State Attorney Mel Shapiro, frequently bypassing Eddy’s immediate superior Chief Stabler. Mel had already told her Jaworski would be the lead detective on her kidnapping and extortion case.
Jaworski arrived and greeted Sandy warmly. He told her they didn’t have any reports from CSI yet, but the M.E. was examining the body found near the equipment building. They had taken prints and expected something back on the victim’s ID shortly. He wanted to hear about her entire episode from start to finish. He’d then take her written statement.
Sandy referred to her notes and gave him a description of the couple she had encountered on the path after leaving the money on the bridge. They were the best suspects, as she didn’t see how anyone else could have taken that money. She explained her confrontation with the kid on the bike, and told Jaworski she had photos of all the vehicles in the parking area. He told her that the police also had photos for comparison. He left for a minute to take her phone over to Judy to download the photos. She had already started tracing the license plate numbers; she’d make a list of the owners and contact them.
At fifteen minutes to ten, Jaworski was finished and Sandy took a copy of her statement down to Chief Stabler’s office on the first floor. The chief apparently had cooled off; at least he didn’t exhibit any animosity toward her. He had her read the first statement into a recorder and then continue with what had happened after she made the money-drop and found the body. The second statement was completed in less than an hour, although the chief did say he might need a follow up.
Back up on the second floor she checked to see if any reports had come in. Judy greeted her with a smile. “I located the couple you saw on the path in Lagoon Park.”
Sandy raised her eyebrows. “Already?”
“Hey, I start work at eight and it’s almost noon. What do you think I do around here?”
“Apparently, nothing but work. How do you know it’s them?”
“There were only six vehicles. First, I made a list of all vehicle owners or rental car agencies. Three owners are local, so I just phoned them and asked if any of them painted their toenails pink fluorescent. The first guy hung up on me.”
“You’re joking!”
“Of course, I’m joking. No, I confirmed they had been to the park, and then I used the clothing descriptions you gave Eddy, madras short-sleeved shirt, jeans, sneakers and light colored Capris. No luck. I’m thankful this didn’t happen at a crowded ball game. I had only six vehicles to deal with. Anyway, only the three non-local names were left on my list. So I started with the tourists. I was going to phone the larger motels and see if they were registered. The second call to the Holiday Inn I hit bingo. They confirmed being over at the park and what they were wearing. A couple from Montana. Jaworski’s over there now interviewing them.”
“I’m amazed, Judy.” She suspected Judy had expended a great deal of special effort on her behalf.
Judy continued, “We don’t have the CSI report yet, but Eddy told me nothing useful was found at Lover’s Bridge. No plastic tray, no trace evidence, nothing.”
Just then Detective Jaworski stepped off the elevator and came up to them.
“We got a hit back immediately of the dead guy’s fingerprints.” He held up the report. “Name is Calvin Boyd, age twenty-five, LKA Sarasota, Florida.”
“That’s great, how’d you get it so fast?” Sandy asked.
“He was in the national database for offenders.”
“Which could mean anything from a DUI to a homicide,” Sandy added. “In any case, he’s a bad actor. Just the type I’m looking for. He’s looking less and less like a mugged tourist and more like Dick. I love it.”
“I’ve requested a full report on him, of course. And we need to check our local criminal records also. Mel Shapiro has someone checking the civil records over at the courthouse.”
“Now things are moving. Judy said you interrogated the couple I encountered in the park.”
“Yeah, over at the Holiday Inn. Sorry, Sandy, I’m satisfied they have no useful information. They aren’t your Dick and Jane. They saw a young woman leaving the bridge, and the description fit you. Said they saw no one else. Hadn’t seen any gym bag or tray. Hadn’t heard any gunfire.”
“They’re lying. They must have the money. There’s no other explanation. That gym bag sat there untouched for no more than a couple of seconds. It didn’t just go up in smoke.”
“Turns out they’re newlyweds from Montana on honeymoon in Florida. We’re lucky we caught them while they were still in Park Beach.
“And you bought their wild story. Did you check their driver’s licenses?”
“Yes, I copied them.”
“None of those vehicles I saw had Montana license plates.” She was getting herself upset.
“Duh...rental car?”
“Did you see their marriage license?”
“You’re getting silly, Sandy.”
“Nobody is from Montana.”
“What do you mean, nobody is from Montana?”
“I’ve never met anyone from Montana. Have you? No. you haven’t. Judy have you ever met anyone from Montana? No. See, they were lying to you.”
“Okay, knock it off. I know you desperately wanted them to be Dick and Jane, but they’re not. So get real.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Her shoulders sagged as she exhaled. “The woman might have been Jane, but the man I saw walking with her wasn’t the dead guy found dead by the equipment shed, assuming he was Dick. So how did the money disappear?”
“Have you considered witchcraft?”
“That guess is better than mine. I’m going over and examine the scene in Lagoon Park where I left the money. There has to be a logical explanation.”
Chapter Ten
Sandy drove over to Lagoon Park and happened to park in the same spot as the night before; the night when she insanely left a fortune in cash setting exposed on the rock wall of the bridge. The hot noon air was breezed away by the onshore wind from the ocean nearby, but she decided not to lower the top on her convertible. She was thinking about the scrawny kid.
The little thief on his new bicycle probably wouldn’t show his face around the park in the light of day. More likely, he was over at the beach snatching money, phones and wallets stuffed down into swimmer’s shoes. Later she’d track him down somehow. Not only was he the first to find the body, but he’d sw
apped bikes with the dead guy. She wondered if that new bike had a serial number that could be traced; she’d like to learn who bought that bike and where.
She hurried down the walking path. As she approached Lover’s Bridge, she could see the yellow crime scene tape that once wrapped the bridge area had been ripped down and the loose ends were blowing in the breeze. Someone, a jogger perhaps, wasn’t going to have the winding path blocked at the bridge. She’d have ducked under the tape anyway.
Once onto the small bridge, she examined the walls and searched around both ends. It appeared much different in the bright morning sunlight but was still just a simple footbridge with waist-high stone walls running over a dry creek. The ends of the bridge were clear of foliage, no place to hide.
In the near second, between her stepping off the bridge and the couple from Montana stepping on, the gym bag had disappeared. As if by magic. Either that or a trained sea gull had swooped down and snapped up the bag with split-second timing. Made no sense. It had to be the Montana couple who Jaworski had located, interviewed and sent on their happy way.
That explanation didn’t please her. It meant that Dick and Jane had been in plain sight posing as a carefree couple who just happened to be strolling along at money-drop time. Had they watched as Sandy left her car? Could they have quietly walked a distance behind her and were ready to face her as she stepped off the bridge. Besides all that, they must have been clever enough to handle the questions from an old-time cop. If all that were true, then they now were halfway back to Montana, never to be seen again. Did any of that make sense?
She thought about the plastic tray. When she saw it that night in the dark, she couldn’t tell much about it, but it seemed ordinary. Why a tray anyway? Why did Jane want the gym bag placed on a tray? Why not just place it directly on the wide top surface of the stone sidewall itself?
Sandy leaned back against the stone sidewall and folded her arms across her chest; think outside the box, she told herself. Well, a trained sea gull swooping down was certainly outside the box. She looked up. There were large trees on the bank of the dry stream and several thick limbs hung over the footbridge. What she was thinking was totally wild.
Alive After Friday (Sandy Reid Mystery Series) Page 5
