Reba worked up a smile through her tears eyes. “That is about the nicest thing we have heard all day, Michael. Leave it to you to know what to say and how to say it.” She squeezed her husband's hand.
“No speechifying here, Reba girl. Love you both too much. Every now and then, I have to say what comes from right here,” He says, pointing to his heart. No way to fake anything at a time like this.”
The three friends sat and talked for the next hour and a half. Reba got up a couple of times to make sure that the General had his favorite glass of scotch by his side. Rex and Reba joined him by having some red wine. By the end of the night, all of them felt better if not good. As they walked Brock to the door, Reba found herself thinking about her doubts around Steve Mills and Bill Merchant. Earlier in the evening, she started to share those thoughts with the General, but decided to hold her tongue. She made the same choice as he walked out the door. Alone with her husband, she said, “I love Michael, but like I told you earlier, Rex, I am not looking for the authorities to tell me what they think I want to hear.”
Rex knew what it meant when his wife was this determined. “I know that, my love. But, I am glad that you did not say anything to Michael about your concerns. We need to figure out how to navigate this on our own, for now.”
“I agree with you about that. But starting tomorrow, I am going to start asking some questions.”
“Okay, sweetie. But, please let's be careful. At least, let me know where you plan on asking before you start. Maybe I can give you some thoughts that could help.”
Reba pondered that one. “Alright, Rex. That makes sense. But, I am determined to get the truth.”
__________
Ronnie and Jackson were about to leave the money for their meal on the table, when Jackson noticed the waitress, Doris, looking in their direction while taking with another waitress near the cash register. Trying to act nonchalant, Jackson said to Ronnie, “Is it me or have we been made by my friend Doris?”
“You have been made. She said something to the cook a couple of minutes ago, who tried to ease back into the kitchen. My guess is that he called the local Sheriff. Go ahead and leave the money, then wait for me in the car. I am going to ask them about hotels in Knoxville before heading out.”
Jackson rushed by the cashier toward the front door nodding at Doris and her waitress friend. They looked at him like he was Jack the Ripper. As he was walking out, he heard Ronnie say, “Is there a Holiday Inn on this road sometime before we get to Knoxville?”
Doris seemed eager to help, though in truth it meant that she would have updated information to share with the local Sheriff.
“Oh yes, keep on this road another forty-five minutes or so and you can't miss it. Y’all drive safe.”
In the car, Jackson could see the two waitresses and the cook looking at them from the window. Ronnie gunned the Explorer and took off on state road 411 toward Knoxville. After a mile or so, he doubled back on a side road, drove for about three miles, then got back on I-40 south away from Knoxville, headed toward Asheville. He then picked up his phone and called Jenny.
“How far are you from Asheville?” Jackson heard him ask her. Jenny gave an answer that Jackson could not hear.
“That's good. You are ahead of us. We just got made so we will need to ditch the car. Be sure to check in and meet us ten miles outside the city. We will be on the highway access road. Thanks, Jen.”
Jenny had already worked out a plan of action. First, she would check into a hotel under an assumed name with different identification. Immediately thereafter, the three of them would get together to get rid of the car and then go back to the hotel. Jenny would park in the back, right by the room she secured. Jackson and Ronnie would then use the key she gives them to enter the hotel from the back door, just steps from the room.
By then, Jenny will have disabled any cameras facing that part of the hotel. Then she would walk all the way to the front of the hotel, go in through the front door, and head straight for the room. Once they’ve debriefed, she would take a cab to the Asheville airport, where she will have a flight reserved under another assumed name. Ronnie and Jackson will then take the car she has left for them and get back on the road the next day.
“At least,” Ronnie said while finishing laying out Jenny’s suggested next steps, “that is the plan. We shall see how the night goes since the folks after us will be nearby. Hotel sweeps are not out of the question.”
“Then what will we do?” Jackson asked.
“We will figure it out. Having new wheels buys us some time. We need to try hard to hide this car to keep them further away from us.”
Jackson took a deep breath and settled back into his seat. Something told him that this was going to be a long night.
__________
“We have a hit,” Livermore said to Strother and McNair. He spoke almost without expression, a sign that Strother's quiet, almost wordless, leadership had already begun to filter down. Livermore’s techie crew, led by Mason, were given the assignment of monitoring information that popped up from local law enforcement. Just a few minutes prior, a waitress from a hole in the wall diner in Newport, Tennessee called the local sheriff to report serving tomato soup to the 'colored man who killed the white girl in D.C.'. The waitress also said that the killer was with another man and that she heard them talking about hotels in Knoxville. A host of authorities, including the F.B.I. would be descending on Newport and its surrounding town within the hour. Livermore watched as Strother, McNair, and Todd Brown contemplated the situation. To Livermore, it seemed as though each was waiting for the other to act. R.J., who was also in the area, was obviously thinking the same thing. He looked at Livermore and silently shrugged.
Finally, Strother spoke. Looking at no one in particular, he said, “Find out specifically what was said about Knoxville, and how it came up. I think it is a distraction play. What is the next big city going in the opposite direction?”
R.J. had the map ready. He laid it on the table, saying, “Asheville is a little over an hour away. Greenville, South Carolina, two hours.”
Strother rubbed the gray stubble on his chin. He had this perpetual look of a weather-beaten fisherman who never shaved, but also never had a completely full beard.
“Focus on Asheville,” he said. “We don't have the manpower to go door to door. Suggest to our friends at the bureau that they do that. What we can do,” he started, motioning to Livermore's techies, “is look at all the film from the hotel cameras within a ten mile radius of Asheville starting from now until morning. Todd, you monitor things here with Livermore. Russ, let's you and I go to Asheville. Now.”
Everyone nodded, fully aware of their roles and responsibilities.
__________
Joe Sweeney had done his research. He knew almost all there was to know about Rex Duncan and his family. One opportunity popped right out at him. The Duncan's oldest son, Kyle, was born with cerebral palsy. Understandably, the disease has become the primary source of philanthropy for the family. Each year, for the last ten years, Rex and Reba Duncan had served as co-chairs of the National Foundation for Cerebral Palsy Research (NFCPR) annual dinner. This year, for the first time, Any Duncan was also listed as a co-chair. The dinner would be held tomorrow night at the Four Seasons in Georgetown. Looking at his computer screen, Sweeney was betting that the Duncans would still go to the dinner as a way of honoring their daughter. If so, this could work perfectly, Sweeney thought. An uncle of one of Sweeney's classmates ran the valet parking garage at the Four Seasons. Once in a while, when the uncle was short staffed for big dinners, Sweeney had helped with the valet parking. The tips were always great. Sweeney was going to call his friend to see if he could work the NFCPR dinner tomorrow night.
If the Duncans showed up, he would find a way to talk to them. But, how? Sweeney knew he had to give it some thought. In the meantime, he jumped up from his dorm room desk to track down Yesus, his friend. Sweeney was det
ermined to be part of tomorrow night's valet parking team at the Four Seasons Hotel.
__________
Ronnie and Jackson were facing a dilemma. As they got closer to the rendezvous spot with Jenny, they needed to decide whether they could risk spending the night in the hotel room she had set up for them. The more Ronnie thought about his diversionary conversation with Doris, the more he believed that it would not work. “The guys who found my hideaway are mercenaries,” he said. “They will smell the Knoxville conversation out right away. I would bet anything that they are headed to Asheville.”
Jackson agreed, but he too was unsure of the right move. These decisions were a lot more magnified when they meant life or death.
“Let's look at the options,” Jackson said. “We could stay in the Asheville hotel, get Jenny to drive us further away - with me staying in the trunk, if need be, or we can go back to the Newport area and hide in plain sight.”
Ronnie squirmed a bit in the driver's seat. They were now parked on a back road near a lake about five miles in from the interstate. Jenny would be there any minute now. “Well, it is true that regular law enforcement and the Feds probably don't know about me. At least, they didn't. Doris has probably changed that. What do you mean by hiding in plain sight in the Newport area?”
“We could have Jenny stay at the hotel in Asheville, just in case there is a room by room check. What if we went back to Newport, broke into the restaurant and stayed there until early morning? Jenny could pick us up and bring us back to the hotel. By morning, everyone will have thought that we are long gone.”
Ronnie was giving Jackson's idea some deep thought. He smiled. “Did you notice that the diner was positioned right in front of some woods? Those woods stretched back for at least a couple of miles. We could hang out there. But, if law enforcement has dogs like they do with prison escapes, we are cooked.”
“We have talked about going on offense, Ronnie.” Jackson said. “What is the aggressive play?”
Ronnie did not hesitate. “Hiding in the woods. It is also suicidal. Crazy. But it could work.” Ronnie shook his head. “Jack, I am gonna make a black ops guy out of you, yet.”
Jackson lightly pounded his knees with his hands. “Not quite yet, my friend. I still see myself as a college history professor.” Even as he was saying it, however, Jackson felt like that part of his world was years ago.
Ronnie smirked a reply. “Jack Ryan, college professor,” he said, referencing the famous Tom Clancy character.
Both men then had their attention diverted to the car lights they could see coming in their direction. “That would be Jenny,” Ronnie said. “Let's get this show on the road.”
__________
Jenny Roberts pulled up in a used white Jeep Grand Cherokee, fully loaded. Jackson was struck by the car's classy look. He expected something more discreet. Following Ronnie's lead, Jackson got out of the Explorer, pulled his duffel bag from the back seat and walked over to the Grand Cherokee. Ronnie opened the passenger side and got in. Jackson opened the rear door behind Ronnie and got in that way.
Once inside, he looked at Jenny behind the steering wheel up front. He could tell that she was an attractive woman, with a slim build. Her jet black hair was shoulder length and she wore black pants, a black turtleneck, and leather black jacket that matched her hair. When she looked at Jackson to smile a hello, he noticed the bluest eyes he may have ever seen.
Despite her warmth, however, Jackson could tell she was all business. “Hi, Jackson. Nice to meet you. Sorry it is under these circumstances and sorry about your student, Amy.”
“Thanks, Jenny. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you going out of your way like this. Thanks so much.”
Jenny looked at Ronnie and said, “That is what we do, right, Ronnie?”
Ronnie was ready to talk business. “As you know, Jen, things have changed. Jackson and I have talked through some options and we need your thoughts.” Ronnie then went through all of the options that they had discussed, asking her not only her thoughts, but whether she could think of any other options.
Jenny was now fully focused on the mission herself as well. “Let's do this,” she said. “First, lets' dump your car so that we can be done with that. The last thing we need is for some local yokel to come down this road and recognize the Explorer. Then we can come back to this spot and I can update you on my research. Things are moving fast, but my knowledge needs to be your knowledge, especially as you decide the next steps. I was going to do the briefing in the hotel room, but that may not work. Once you hear all that I have to say, we can go through those options.”
The two men nodded, with Ronnie miming an exaggerated salute. Looking at Jackson, he said, “Can you imagine having to work for her in the field, Jack? Recruits were terrified to be trained by her, until it was done. Then they all bragged about it.”
Jenny just said, “Let's go, guys.”
Ronnie and Jackson had found a boat launch out of sight from the main road. It took about a minute to ease the Explorer into gear and then push it into the water. The biggest fear that the three of them had was whether the entire car would submerge in the lake. All three watched patiently from the shore to see the car go deeper and deeper into the water. Finally, the roof of the car disappeared completely from the surface.
“Okay,” Jenny said. “Let's go talk.”
Once back into the car, Jenny launched right in. “Let me first talk with you about Steve Mills and Bill Merchant, the two men that Amy overheard at her parents' house. The two have been close for some time. They are very conservative Republicans and donate to just about the same candidates. Merchant is the softer of the two and is a management whiz. That is how he rose to the ranks of CFO at ITM. Needless to say, he is worth millions. Never married, no kids. Rumored to be gay. Mills, on the other hand, is a highly successful hedge fund manager, one of the most successful in the world. His net worth is in the billions. But, he is not nearly as likable as Merchant. He is a known egotist who will do anything if you stroke his ego the right way.
“In fact, among philanthropic circles in New York, the word is that if you found a way to elaborately honor Steve Mills, he would personally give you six figures or more. Groups from the arts, education and other charities have been stepping over themselves the last few years to feed his ego. Some even started to coordinate their efforts. Mills' ego blinds him to their brazen plotting for his money. He is divorced with a grown son, who doesn't speak to him.”
“What about their ties to white nationalism?” Jackson asked.
“There is no paper trail or public comments on any of that. They have obviously covered themselves well on that front.”
Jackson and Ronnie then went over in greater detail their theory about the food service industry being the launching point for a conspiracy to poison kids of color.
Jenny was ready for the conversation. “If it could be pulled off, it is a realistic plan. But the coordination is key. You are right, there are 13,000 school districts in America and it makes sense that only 500 or so have most of the black and brown kids in them. Of those 13,000 school districts, less than twenty percent outsource their food service responsibilities. That translates to about 2,000 contracts, nationwide. Not surprisingly, most of these contracts are with the big cities, the larger school districts. The big three contracts in this space are Claremark, Jawer Foods, and Honeyberg Industries. Claremark is the big boy. They have been doing this for almost fifty years and have 700 school district contracts. They have major quality issues, but they also have strong, longstanding political relationships. Jawer Foods and Honeyberg have about 300 contracts each. For many years, Honeyberg was viewed as a potential direct threat to Claremark, but then they ran into management and infrastructure challenges. Plus, it has been a while since they have won a new contract.”
“What about the rest of the school districts? That still leaves a lot out there,” Jackson said.
“True,”
Jenny replied. “The rest of the contracts are a lot of one-offs or mom and pop operations. None of them have more than a handful of contracts, nor are they looking to grow their footprint, except for one. Have you heard of Joseph Charles?”
“The name is familiar,” Jackson said.
“Yes, I know who he is,” Ronnie added, snapping his fingers. “He is the food service king out of Chicago. Has a nice rep and wants to get our folks in the community to eat healthy and organic.”
“Right. There is not much bad to say about Joe Charles. He seems to be a good guy, all around. His grandfather founded Bartlett Foods, a catering company that catered to black churches and community groups many years ago. Charles jumped into the school district contracting wars when he won the Chicago public schools food service contract a few years back. Folks there love him. He gives cooking classes and has trained community members in the ‘hood. He has even talked about bidding on food service contracts at small colleges and community colleges that cater to minorities.
“After the buzz surrounding his work in Chicago, he won nine straight bids on school district contracts. People in the industry project that he will be able to take on the big boys soon. Interestingly, nearly seven hundred of those contracts will be up for bid in the next eighteen months. Recently, however, Charles lost the New York public schools contract, one that everyone thought he would win.
“Now check this out: the word is that certain hedge fund money has jumped in to help Claremark. They got their New York contract renewed even though the Post kept running stories about kids eating moldy food. The word is that key hedge fund players cut a deal with the Claremark CEO. Millions of dollars are involved based on the upcoming contracts. Also, and this is not public, but Charles has been getting death threats. Interesting, huh?”
The Plan (The Jackson Lowery Trilogy Book 1) Page 11
