The Jack Hammer

by Derek Ciccone

  And while it was a small sample size, the owner hadn’t connected Peter Foye to the Tim O’Connell who died in a car accident about an hour south of here. Which meant the authorities hadn’t connected it. Because if they had, they would have been in stores like this showing photos of Tim O’Connell, and likely would have scared the target away.

  The owner took Sam to the back section of the store to find her an outfit. While she was gone, Cam found himself a touristy, hooded sweatshirt that read: Arizona: Where the Summer Spends the Winter, and a pair of Wranglers. They weren’t as comfortable as the track pants, but more fit the part.

  A few minutes later, Sam stepped out with her new outfit, and his mouth went slack-jaw. She was wearing a tank top with a pair of hip-huggers and hiking boots. It fit her, from the standpoint it was simple, natural, and not trying to draw attention to herself. But it also fit every one of her many curves.

  “No good?” she asked, gauging his strange stare. “I got a denim jacket to go over it for when the temperature goes down.” She held it up for him to see.

  “No … I, um … it’s the perfect outfit to take on a trip to the canyon, Roxie.”

  She smiled with relief. “Sounds like a plan, Shane, but first, I think you owe me breakfast.”

  Chapter 79

  “I thought you said you were taking me out to the best breakfast in Sedona?”

  Cam smiled as they pulled into the parking lot. “If you don’t think McDonald’s has the best breakfast, then obviously you’ve never had a Sausage McMuffin.”

  “I’m more of a big breakfast girl myself.”

  “I think that fits you.”

  The smile fell off her face. “What’s that supposed to mean? Just because I’m not one of your twig models doesn’t mean …”

  He put his hands up in surrender. “I just meant that the big breakfast, like you, is diverse. It has the eggs, the hash browns, and of course, the hot cakes. It seems simple at first glance, but once you get into it, it’s a lot more complicated than you first think.”

  “Complicated?”

  “For example, if you eat the hot cakes first, then you risk getting the syrup on the eggs. You can’t just dig in without thought—it’s better the more you figure out the nuances.”

  “And that’s a compliment?”

  “Absolutely … but not as big as the one the owner of the thrift store paid you—comparing you to your brother.”

  She nodded. “And I think it’s time I start channeling him again.”

  They took a seat at a booth. And to prove she was even more complex than he thought, she actually preferred the syrup on the eggs and hash browns. Between bites, she explained that Tim was a believer that the most valuable information came from talking to people at local hangouts like this. Most of the conversations were about everything except the case he was working on, but when he sifted through his pan he always found some good nuggets. And once they finished their breakfast, she put his theory to the test.

  She rose from their booth and headed toward a man who was calmly reading his newspaper. “Excuse me, I’m looking for someone who might have come through here in the last few weeks. I was wondering if you could help me?”

  “I see a lot of people come through these parts, but I’ll give it a shot,” the man said. He didn’t seem to mind his morning being interrupted. He clearly wasn’t from New York.

  Sam introduced herself as Roxie, before turning to Cam with plans to explain that he was Shane. But George stopped her prior to the introduction. “No need to tell me who this is—it’s great to meet you, Cam.”

  George extended a paint-stained hand. “I was a big fan of your father,” he began excitedly, but then seemed to remember the current reality. “I’m so sorry to hear about your brother—I was always rooting for him to make it.”

  Cam thanked him, as he contemplated the potential consequences of being identified.

  George had that look in his eyes—it was the same whether it was the Bakers from Maryland or George from Sedona. He had just got off the Memory Lane exit. “Jack Myles was the best ballplayer I ever saw. Told my grandson all about him, so he wears his number ‘44’ on his youth team in honor of him. Plays for Fisher’s Auto—they’re undefeated this year.”

  Cam let George go on, just like he did with all of his father’s fans. It was the first time he’d thought of the reaction of the legion of Jack Myles’ followers if the accusations were true. It would be devastating for men like George, and that saddened Cam.

  When he finished describing the day Jack Myles hit the ball completely out of Yankee Stadium, he turned to Sam like he’d forgotten something. “I’m so sorry, I got carried away—you were asking me about someone you were looking for.”

  Sam pulled out a recent picture of Tim and held it up for George to see. “It’s my brother, Peter. He came up here about a week ago—last I heard from him he was headed to do some sightseeing in the canyon. When he never made it back home, I got worried, and we flew out to find him.”

  George gently took the picture out of Sam’s hand and held it close to his nose like he were having trouble seeing. “Yeah-yeah, of course. You and your brother must have the same taste in food because I met him right here.”

  Cam and Sam traded a brief glance, and she continued, “Sedona is a small place, I guess everyone runs into everyone at some point. Did he mention where he was going? Peter has been known to go off on his own, so maybe I’m overreacting, but he usually doesn’t go over a week without calling.”

  George looked genuinely concerned. “No, you’re probably smart to follow your instincts. When we first met, he asked me and my crew a bunch of questions about Oak Creek Canyon. Was it safe and all, stuff like that. We thought we’d scared him away from it, but he took a trip up there, and made it back just fine.”

  “You saw him again after his trip to the canyon?”

  “Yes, the next night at the baseball game. He was looking for something to do when he was in town, and he said he was a big sports fan, so we invited him to come down for the first game. He’s a nice kid, I hope he’s alright.”

  “Baseball game?” Cam asked with a surprised look. From their conversations on the plane, Cam knew that Sam was the baseball fan in the family, and Tim never had any interest in it, or any sport. So if he was attending a baseball game, it wasn’t for entertainment purposes.

  “It was the grand opening of Fisher Field. It’s the new Youth Baseball field in town.”

  George then went off on a long tangent about how the field was a big deal in Sedona, and was the brainchild of a guy named Blake Fisher, who also owned the auto repair business that sponsored the team that George’s grandson was on. And that Peter had hit it off with Jineane Hill at the game, who happened to be Blake Fisher’s girlfriend.

  It didn’t seem to be leading anywhere, but Sam let him go on. Like Tim, she was collecting a pan full of nuggets, which hopefully would contain a few gold ones.

  After George politely excused himself, having to return to work, Cam and Sam shared notes. First they would go to Oak Creek Canyon, and see what Tim thought was so important to ask both George and the owner of the thrift store about it.

  Chapter 80

  The Pathfinder made its way along the curvy roads leading to Oak Creek Canyon. Spring was awash with cheerful color and an aqua sky watched over them.

  Sam admitted her idea of nature was Central Park, so the experience was quite an eye-opener for her. Cam wasn’t enjoying the view, his eyes were too busy examining every inch of the canyon, and the thick forest that surrounded it. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but was confident that he’d know it if he saw it.

  Suddenly Sam’s eyes bulged. “Look out!”

  Cam saw it—a huge boulder had tumbled down the roadside hill and skidded right in front of their vehicle. He stretched out his arm out in front of Sam, and jammed on the brakes. But it was too late.

  Thump! The vehicle collided with the rock. But they didn’t crash
into it—they went over it. The Pathfinder practically bounced over the huge rock, causing a loud scraping noise underneath the vehicle. But they had made it through in one piece … and were still driving down the winding canyon road as if nothing had happened.

  When his heart returned inside his chest, Cam pulled over to the side of the road to assess the situation.

  First he checked on his co-pilot. She appeared to have handled the close call much better than she did flying. “I’m fine. But oh my God, Cam—I thought we were goners!”

  Cam looked in the rearview mirror and his heart sank again. He knew their search had ended. “Dammit!” he said and punched the steering wheel.

  “What is it?” Sam asked. She turned and looked out the back window. “Wow, that’s the biggest rock I’ve ever seen.”

  “It’s not the rock that concerns me. See all of the oil on the road?”

  Sam took another look—this time at the black stream that had painted the blacktop, leading all the way back to the boulder. It was hard to miss. “That’s not good.”

  “No—not at all. I think the rock tore off our oil pan.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Basically, we are going to need a tow. We’re not going anywhere without oil. It will tear up the engine, if I try to drive on it.”

  “I hope you got the insurance on the rental, O’Connell Investigator’s is a little low on cash these days,” Sam tried to joke, but they both knew there was nothing funny about this. The FBI would find them by the time they got it fixed. And they would miss their chance to stop the person who was terrorizing their lives. And when word got out that they were here, if Jack Myles really was living in Sedona, he wouldn’t be any more.

  Sam sighed. “So what now?”

  “I saw an inn up the road about a half-mile. We can call someone from there.”

  “What was that auto shop George mentioned? The guy who built the baseball park?”

  “Fisher Auto … good thinking.”

  Chapter 81

  Of all the fourteen hundred rooms in the Waldorf Astoria hotel, it was a safe bet that none of them were filled with more negative energy than the luxury suite on the twenty-fifth floor.

  When the FBI approached them about protective custody, Natasha put up a fight, claiming she “only stays at the Waldorf” when in New York. It was the only way she would be willing to go along. And as usual, she got her way.

  But it also made logistical sense. The hotel took up one square block of Park Avenue, and had housed world leaders, US presidents, and five-star generals. It was a fortress. And they might need a fortress to keep the Jack Hammer away.

  As far as protective custody goes, this was as good as it got. A spectacular nine hundred square-foot suite with an enormous living room, boudoir, spacious decorated bedrooms with king size beds and marble baths.

  Still, Natasha was acting as if she was a prisoner of war.

  Anna had it timed that she let out a loud, “I’m bored!” every six minutes, and dropped the F-word out about every two-and-a-half. They might have been sisters, but they were as different as different could be.

  The historic hotel had sparked Anna’s curiosity, and she soaked up every piece of information she could find. She tried to share her excitement with Natasha, but found her to be less than intrigued.

  Anna would mention what she felt was an interesting fact about the Waldorf. “Did you know the original Waldorf was built in 1929 and sat on the same place where the Empire State Building now stands?” Natasha would then predictably respond, “Who cares?” with an exaggerated shake of her head.

  “Hey Natasha, did you know every US president since Herbert Hoover has stayed at the Waldorf?”

  “Like I give a shit.”

  “Did you know that when the Waldorf was built it was the largest hotel in the world?”

  “Now it’s the largest jail in the world.”

  Natasha did find some interest in the large quantities of food she demanded the federal agents order from local eateries. Some French from Peacock Alley, a bottle of champagne from Oscars, and Japanese from Inagiku. She seemed to be on a mission to double the national debt.

  The other occupants were no picnic either—Irina Kushka brought a scowl to the party, along with a liking for the mini bar. Young Milla was an unstoppable ball of energy, and was now running her version of the New York Marathon around the enormous room.

  Eventually, Natasha realized nobody was interested in her diva act. This wasn’t the slobbering media or teenage boys she so easily devoured. So she wandered over to Anna, who was feverishly hitting keys on a computer they were allowed access to.

  “Sorry I’ve been such a bitch. Just a lot has happened in the last few days. I guess I’m not being a really good sister.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Anna said casually, consumed by the computer screen. “We all have been under a lot of stress. You don’t learn everyday that you have family you didn’t know about.”

  “What are you doing, looking up more Waldorf facts?”

  Anna smiled apologetically. “Sorry about that. Sometimes I get carried away when I learn new stuff … you must think I’m a total geek.”

  “I’ve been here about twenty times. It gets old, trust me. So does being on the road all the time. I miss Russia—that was a home.”

  “What was it like growing up there?”

  “Cold. I moved to Florida to go to tennis school when I was eleven. What was it like growing up in Cuba?”

  “Pretty much like Florida, except you can’t leave.”

  “So how did you get to New York then?”

  “Cuba has this lottery system for US visas. I applied and won. I want to be a doctor, and New York is filled with some of the greatest universities in the world. So it gave me a chance to pursue my dream.”

  “So you are going to school?”

  “I’m taking undergrad courses in the city, and hope to go to med school one day. I still have a few years, and this whole thing isn’t helping. I’ve lost the whole semester because I won’t be able to take my finals, and I’m running out of money. I guess I will end up a waitress for the rest of my life,” she said with exasperation.

  “I wish I got to go to college,” Natasha said.

  Anna looked confused. “Why? You make millions of dollars, get to be on magazine covers, and go to cool parties. Your life seems perfect.”

  “There’s got to be more to it than that. Everyone thinks I’m some dumb jock bimbo who knows more about lip gloss than the French Revolution.” She paused for a moment, but then perked up. Her attention span was as short as her temper. “Hey—maybe we can go to college together. You will be the doctor and I will be a child psychologist. I want to help children who have to grow up without a father.”

  The depth surprised Anna. Count her as one of those who thought she was just a dumb jock. She scolded herself for judging a book by its cover—one of her mother’s favorite sayings. No juzgues a un libro por su cubierta.

  “That is a nice thought, but like I said, I can’t afford college anymore.”

  “First of all, you are my sister so call me Nat. Secondly, I have zillions of dollars, so I could give you the money.”

  “I don’t need charity.”

  “Yes you do. And you’re family, so it wouldn’t be charity,” she doubled down on their sisterhood. A complete turnaround from their earlier conversation in the hospital room. “Tell me about my brother. What was Teo like?”

  Anna smiled wide. “He was a great baseball player, but was an even better person. He was kind, worked hard, and always helped others before himself. He worried so much about my mother. He hated that she had to work so hard and take so much grief for so little money. He couldn’t wait to get to America and sign a big contract in the Major Leagues so he could send her money, and she could quit her job at the resort. A lot of people thought because he was quiet it meant he was weak or scared, but he was the opposite. He was the strongest man I ever knew.�
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  Anna began to get emotional—this was the first moment she’d had time to think about Teo being gone, even though he had been the only thing on her mind.

  Natasha didn’t appear very comfortable with tears that weren’t her own, and once again changed the subject, “You never told me—what are you doing on the computer?”

  “I’m on the internet.”

  “I’ve been trending on there since my meltdown in the airport,” Natasha added. “Seems pretty trivial with what’s been going on.”

  Anna agreed, but didn’t respond. She was focused on the screen in front of her. “To be more specific, I’m researching Arizona.”

  “Why Arizona?” Natasha asked with surprising interest.

  “Can you keep a secret, Nat?” Anna asked. She was skeptical, but wanted to share.

  “Probably not, but the only other people in this room are two FBI agents and my mother, none of whom are talking to me at the moment, and a two-year-old kid. Who could I possibly tell?”

  She had a point. “Arizona is where Cam and Sam went.”

  Natasha moved closer to the monitor. “Why did they go there?”

  “Because that’s where they think our father is, and they want to catch him before he can harm anyone else. They believe Tim was onto him, which was why he was in Arizona when he …”

  “Tim asked me about my father bringing me to Arizona. Now it makes sense.”

  Now it was Anna’s turn to show interest. “Where in Arizona did he take you?”

  “The Red Planet.”

  “The Red Planet?”

  “Sedona. They call it the Red Planet because of all these red colored rocks. We went there on vacation when I was a little girl. I convinced Tim to stop there on his way to Vegas to see me.” Her voice trailed off and it was evident she didn’t want to discuss it anymore—she really had strong feelings when it came to Tim—and just walked away.