Loyal Be Jack

by Robert Tarrant

  “Okay, I’m looking for a light lunch. What do you recommend?”

  Without hesitation, he replied, “The Cajun ahi tuna. It’s on the Starter Menu, but it comes with an Asian salad and won ton chips, and it’s plenty for a light lunch.”

  “Sold.”

  “Great, I’ll put the order in.”

  While I waited for my lunch in the relative privacy of the nearly empty bar, I took the opportunity to call Marge. She told me that she had an appointment scheduled for 1:30 p.m. at the bank. I was disappointed because I had hoped she would tell me that the loan was all arranged. Of course, I also realized that it had been less than two hours since I first dropped this bomb on her. I kept my unrealistic disappointment in check and said, “Great. Things are progressing on this end as well. When I hang up, I’ll text you the account number and bank routing numbers to send the transfer to.” She apologized for not being able to arrange the money in time for the 2:00 p.m. deadline, but I told her that I knew that the cash wouldn’t be available that soon even if she were able to make the wire transfer. Marge again lobbied for me to contact the police, but she gave up after a few minutes. We ended the call, and I texted her the bank numbers.

  While I ate my lunch, I pondered how to convince Katharine’s kidnappers to give me more time. I needed to come up with a means to show them I was going to have the money. Show them I was making a good faith effort to meet their demands. Still, I knew that they might interpret anything I did as stalling. Who knows what they might do to Katharine if they thought I was stalling. Who knows what they may have already done to her. That thought caused a cold chill to course through my entire body.

  I finished my lunch and drove back to the bank. It was only 12:45 p.m. so I sat in the car and continued to ponder my problem. How did I convince the kidnappers to give me an extension on the deadline? It occurred to me that maybe I could get some type of document from Mr. Liddy indicating when the funds would be available. Something like a letter of credit. Did kidnappers take letters of credit? Probably not traditionally, but maybe it would suffice to trigger the greed reflex like showing them the actual cash would do. If Mr. Liddy had a commitment from the Federal Reserve, and he was willing to put that into a letter, I could photograph the letter and attach it to a text message to the kidnappers. Would that work to buy some more time? It had to. It just had to.

  I entered the bank and found Marie, the teller I had worked with earlier. She told me that Mr. Liddy was expecting me in his office. I walked back through the swinging gate toward Liddy’s office. The door was only partially ajar, so I knocked. A couple of seconds later, Liddy opened the door and motioned me inside. I took the chair I had occupied earlier as he returned to his high-backed desk chair. He opened the conversation with, “I had some luck with the Fed. They will have the funds here at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow. Hopefully, you can convince your seller to allow you that much additional time.”

  I didn’t know what I expected for a timeline from the Federal Reserve, but 10:00 a.m. tomorrow seemed like a real success to me. I said, “That’s great, Mr. Liddy. You’re every bit as good as Benjamin said.” I didn’t know why I embellished my comment with a lie. Habit, I guess. I added, “I’m impressed that they could produce that much in twenties so quickly.”

  The glow my compliment had produced faded. He said, “Well, they made no promises that it would all be in twenties, but as much as possible. Seems like you could convince your seller that he can change the portion that is not twenties at some point in the future. If he’s so adamant about having only twenties in his . . . what did you call it?”

  “His Armageddon fund.”

  “Yes, his Armageddon fund. He could certainly break the bills down to any size he wanted over time. Hopefully, Armageddon won’t come anytime real soon.”

  What he said made sense, even if it was in the wrong context. I was dealing with kidnappers, not an eccentric property owner, but the same logic would seem to apply. Doesn’t seem like they would turn down the money because it wasn’t all in twenties. I nodded my agreement with his theory and moved on to the issue of proving the money was coming. “I was hoping you could provide me some type of letter on bank stationary that would indicate the arrangements had been made for the cash to arrive tomorrow morning. Something I could show the seller. Something similar to a letter of credit. Would that be possible?”

  Liddy considered my request for a minute and then replied, “I guess I can do that. It would be a letter attesting to the fact that arrangements have been made to have the fifty-thousand dollars in cash available for your withdrawal at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow. I can’t attest to your ability to withdraw the funds, that is contingent on your ability to execute a wire transfer from your bank in Florida by that time. If you don’t mind me asking, how are those arrangements proceeding?”

  That’s a good question. Wish I knew the answer. I replied, “Oh, fine. I’ve sent the routing numbers you gave me. Now that I have the 10:00 a.m. target, I can verify that the wire transfer will be made before that time.” I hope!

  Liddy nodded and said, “Give me a couple of minutes, and I will have a letter prepared.”

  I waited in a chair in the lobby, watching customers come and go for thirty minutes before Liddy approached carrying a letter in his hand. I scanned the letter and told him again how much I appreciated his assistance. He reminded me that he would have a couple of reporting forms for me to complete when I withdrew the cash, and I assured him that would be no problem. At this point, I wanted to get out of the bank so that I could photograph the letter and be ready to send it to the kidnappers when they contacted me in the next ten minutes. I said a hasty goodbye and retreated to my car.

  I had just finished photographing the letter when my cell phone buzzed with a text. “You have the cash?”

  I replied, “Arrangements have been made. Cash not available until 10 tomorrow. Not easy to round up that many twenties. See attached letter.” I attached the photo of Liddy’s letter.

  Several minutes passed before the next message appeared. “This is not a negotiation. We told you she would die if you failed to meet our demands.”

  I stared at the screen in shock. They couldn’t kill Katharine. I had done everything I possibly could to meet their demands. Even robbing a bank wouldn’t net that many twenties. The banks don’t have that many on hand. I texted back. “You must understand, it is physically impossible to obtain that many twenties any sooner.” Five, then eight, then ten minutes passed without a response. I was becoming frantic. I texted, “Talk to me. You must understand.”

  Finally a response. “We will discuss your proposal and be in touch.” Thank God. I dropped the phone on the seat and sucked in a deep breath of air. For the first time, I noticed the low battery warning on the screen. Damn, I must have forgotten to charge it while I was at the lodge this morning. I looked around the car but knew the answer. I didn’t have a cable. I didn’t dare go back to the lodge to charge it, coverage was just too spotty there. I drove through town and found a Meijer store. I knew I could find a cable there. I grew up shopping at Meijer stores. Everything from groceries to auto parts. Sure enough, the electronics department yielded the charging cable I needed.

  I began driving aimlessly around town, fearing that if I strayed out of town, I could wander into an area of poor cellular coverage. After forty-five minutes of wandering, I decided to stop in the large parking lot in front of the grocery store in the center of town. The location yielded five bars of signal strength. All I could do was wait. The kidnappers had only said that they would discuss my proposal and be in touch. They didn’t say when they would be in touch. Maybe it wouldn’t be until tomorrow morning. Well, if that’s the case, I’ll be spending the night in my car because I’m not going anywhere that might jeopardize my cell signal.

  A couple of hours had passed, and I was beginning to rethink the idea of spending the night in the car. As the sun settled below the horizon, the temperature was beginning to drop. To say nothin
g of just sitting all night. Looking across the parking lot, I noticed a hotel next door. The sign said American Alpine Lodge. I reflected back on trips to the area years ago and was certain it had been a Holiday Inn in a previous life. Seeing the hotel triggered the realization that there were several hotels in this general area where M-32 crosses I-75. Realizing I wouldn’t need to jeopardize cell coverage to sleep in a bed tonight was a small victory for my frazzled psyche.

  Suddenly, it occurred to me that I hadn’t heard from Marge yet. I was so caught up in the availability of the cash on my end and convincing the kidnappers to delay the deadline that I had completely forgotten about acquiring the funds from our line of credit. I called Marge, but it went to voicemail. I left a message asking her to call me as soon as she had the opportunity, that I was anxious to hear about her meeting at the bank. My gut told me that if she had been successful, I would have already heard from her. Everything unravels if I can’t borrow the fifty-thousand dollars.

  Two minutes later, my cell phone buzzed. It was Marge. I answered, “Hi, Marge. Just know that if I cut our call short, it’s because I have an incoming call. Please tell me you have good news.”

  “Well, sorta.”

  She paused, but I couldn’t wait. “What the hell does that mean, Marge? Did you get the money or not?”

  “I got the money, just not from the bank. They wouldn’t advance on our line of credit. Not with Cap’s Place indefinitely closed at this time. They weren’t even interested in allowing us to borrow against the equity in the property.”

  “Damn. Remind me to change banks as soon as we get back on our feet.”

  “Jack, you need to realize that the banks are under a lot of pressure from people down here right now. All kinds of businesses are on the brink of failure as a result of the storm. Money is tight right now.”

  “But you said you got the money?” I knew I sounded desperate, but I didn’t care.

  “I did. I got you a personal loan.”

  “A personal loan? If they won’t loan the business money, why would they loan it to me personally? I sure as hell don’t have anything outside of the business.”

  I heard Marge exhale slowly as if she was having trouble finding the words she wanted to use to answer me. She said, “This is a loan from an individual. An unsecured personal loan to you.”

  “For fifty-thousand dollars? Who would loan me that kind of money? Who could loan me that kind of money?”

  “Harry is going to loan you the money. I would have loaned it to you myself, but I couldn’t free up funds in that quantity soon enough.” It had never occurred to me to ask Marge, or anyone else, to make a personal loan to me. I always guessed that Marge had a decent-sized nest egg tucked away from her career in investment banking. I wasn’t certain what motivated her to continue to manage Cap’s Place, but I was confident it wasn’t the salary. Harry Ward had recently retired to Florida after what he called a lifetime of selling hardware. I always enjoyed bantering with him at Cap’s Place but had no idea that he could come up with fifty-thousand dollars on such short notice.

  I blurted out, “Where would Harry come up with money like that? I don’t want him to raid his retirement account. I have no idea how long it will take me to repay him.”

  “He said he could access the funds in a cash account he has. It has nothing to do with any retirement funds.”

  “Cash account? How could a hardware salesman come up with money like that?”

  I could hear Marge laugh on the other end. “Hardware salesman? That’s kinda an understatement, don’t you think, Jack? He owned over two hundred hardware stores throughout the midwest. Sold the entire chain when he retired. I think he is very . . . very comfortable.”

  I had no idea. Harry had always referred to himself as a hardware salesman. He never said a word about owning stores, much less two hundred of them. I asked, “Why would Harry loan me that kind of money? He hardly knows me.”

  “Jeez, Jack. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. He does know you, and he knows you need help. He has already talked to his bank to arrange the transfer. If it doesn’t go out tonight, it will first thing in the morning. Now quit asking questions and tell me some things. How soon can the bank get the cash? Did you get the kidnappers to understand that fifty thousand in twenties isn’t found in just any cash drawer?”

  I replied, “The bank will have the cash at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow.”

  “And the kidnappers, what did they say about that timeline?” Marge’s tone carried concern.

  “I got a letter from the bank stating the time the money would be available to me, and I texted it to the kidnappers but haven’t heard back yet. I’m hopeful that their greed will win over and buy me the time needed.”

  With the same concern in her voice, Marge asked, “How are you doing, Jack? How are you holding up?”

  “I’m doing the only thing I can in this situation. I’m forging ahead. I have to for Katharine. I owe her that much.”

  There was a long pause and then Marge said, “Well, I don’t know if you owe her anything, but I know you well enough to know you’re not about to turn your back if you can help her.” Then she asked, “Have you talked to her? Is she all right? I mean under the circumstances.”

  “I haven’t talked to her, but they sent me a picture right after they kidnapped her.” Marge’s question and my answer caused me renewed concern. Yeah, she was all right when they took her to that cabin and took the picture, but how do I know she still is? Marge and I talked a few more minutes, but my renewed worry about Katharine kept distracting me. I had been so caught up in the mechanics of meeting the kidnappers’ demands that I had lost my focus on Katharine’s safety. Everything I did needed to include an element of protecting Katharine.

  As soon as Marge and I ended our call, I sent a text to Katharine’s phone. “I need proof of life. I want to talk to Katharine.”

  An hour later, I still had no response. I knew it was foolish to continue to attempt to keep up my vigil from the front seat of my rental car. I drove across M-32 to the Fairfield Inn and registered. I stopped in the little snack shop in the lobby and picked up a microwavable dinner and, since this was an unplanned overnight stay, a toothbrush and toothpaste. I went up to my room, put the dinner in the refrigerator, and stretched out on the bed. I thought about calling Gunny but didn’t want to tie my phone up and chance missing a response from the kidnappers. I was physically exhausted but so keyed up I didn’t think I’d fall asleep. Still, I turned the ringer up to full volume and laid my phone on my chest as I closed my eyes and attempted to calm my mind.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Something startled me. I was totally disoriented. I scrambled to a sitting position on the edge of the bed, shaking my head in the dark. Slowly, the cobwebs began to clear. I was in a hotel room. I must have fallen asleep. Then I identified the sound that had awakened me. It was my cell phone buzzing. The sound was coming from somewhere on the floor. I fumbled for the switch on the lamp next to the bed and finally had light. Dropping to my knees, I found my phone on the floor. I must have rolled over in my sleep and dropped it. I didn’t recognize the number displayed. I answered as I saw the time of 1:00 a.m. on the bedside clock.

  “Jack, it’s Katharine. They released me. I’m safe.” Her voice was soft, almost like she was whispering.

  “Oh my gosh, Katharine. Are you okay? Where are you? I’ll come get you. Thank God.” I was babbling.

  “No, Jack. I’m okay. I’m not hurt. Phillip is here with me. He’s taking me home. He’ll stay with me.”

  “What? Phillip? How did he get up here so fast? I don’t understand.”

  Her voice seemed a little stronger now. “I’m not up north. They released me at a rest area on I-94 near Belleville. I called Phillip from the pay phone. He came and got me.”

  “Have you called the police?” There was no reply, so I repeated my question. “Katharine, have you called the police? Do you need to go to the hospital to be checked over?
You must be terrified. You’re probably in shock.”

  Her voice was now much stronger. “Jack, Jack, calm down. I’m fine. Sure, I was terrified, but I’m fine now. Now that Phillip is here. I wasn’t physically harmed. All I want to do is go home and get some sleep. We can talk again tomorrow.”

  “You’re not going to call the police? Katharine, you should call the police.”

  “Jack, we’re not going to call the police. I will call you tomorrow, after I have had some rest, and explain. Just understand, we can not call the police.” Her voice was now strong and firm.

  Even though I was still clearing cobwebs out of my head, it seemed that something was wrong. How did I know that she was actually free? Maybe the kidnappers were making her place this call. Why? That makes no sense, Jack. Why would they want me to think she was free? I sure wouldn’t pay the ransom if I thought she was free. A wave of relief swept over me and washed away my attempts at logical thought. I started to babble again. “Katharine, I’m so glad you’re safe. I was so worried. I was doing everything I could to meet their demands but was afraid I’d fail. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Her tone was now warmer and soft. “Jack, you didn’t fail. I’m fine. Well, tired but otherwise fine. We can talk tomorrow after I’ve had some rest.”

  I stood as I said, “I’ll drive down there tonight. I’ll leave right now. I want to see you. I want to see with my own eyes that you’re all right.”

  “Jack, Jack, stop right there. You are not driving down here tonight. That’s totally unnecessary. Phillip will take care of me. He’s a doctor, remember. You’re no doubt as wrung out as I am. You get some rest tonight and we’ll talk tomorrow. Understand?” I was confused but didn’t seem to have any choice. I decided that she was right; Phillip could certainly take care of her. After all, he’s her fiancé and a doctor. What could I contribute? I reluctantly agreed, and we ended the call with her promising to again call me after she had gotten some sleep.