by Dave Balcom
I looked at my phone, probably looking more surprised than I really was. “He hung up on you?” Rita asked.
“No,” Jan said. “He’s probably got something else right now, and he compartmentalizes with the best of them.”
“He’ll call back at noon,” I said out loud.
“Can we trust him?” Ed asked in a whisper.
“I do and I have; with my life and with Jan’s life.”
We sat at the table and Jan took her reporter’s notebook out of her purse. “I think we should organize ourselves before talking with Ray. “You know how hard it can be to keep him happy on the phone.”
I translated to the Sweets, “He’s the epitome of Type-A personality, but he’s a solid man, a great investigator, and you can always count on him.”
Jan took over: “So, what’s the drill from the note? It says to take out a personal classified with the name of your heir in it. If it’s the right name, you’ll hear nothing; but what will you hear if it’s the wrong name?”
Ed was looking down at his hands, folded in front of him. “Then we’ll hear, I guess, that something terrible has happened to that child.”
Jan went pale.
I took over. “I think we need to start asking the question that’s on everyone’s mind: Who do you know that would be that crazy?”
I reached out and touched Ed’s arm, “I think your first thought, the real crusher of a question, would be which one of your extended family would be that nuts, but based on everything I’ve heard, I don’t believe it’s one of your kids or their spouses...”
“Don’t believe or don’t want to believe?” Ed said, looking up with his eyes only.
“Can you see one of your children that far off the deep end?”
“No, of course not; and I don’t think they’d be married to one that far gone, either.”
“So, my first thought is that under no circumstances can you run an ad with a kid’s name in it.”
“Why not?”
“What if there is no correct name? What if this whacko just wants to piss on your parade? What if he or they just want to torture you with no possibility of a happy ending?”
That thought didn’t bring any look of joy to either of the Sweets. Finally, Rita spoke up, “So what should we do?”
“Do you have a phone book handy?”
She hopped up and went to a drawer in her island and brought back the regional book, “What are you going to do?”
I looked up from the listings, “I’m going to find out the name of the publisher of the...” I found the newspaper listing in the Yellow Pages. “...Elliotsville Rapid Reporter and I’m going to find out the absolute deadline for personals in the next edition. Do you know the head person down there?”
“I met him,” Ed said. “He’s a young man, new here, just brought in from one of the parent company’s daily newspapers, but I don’t recall his name or where he’s from.”
“You subscribe?” Jan asked.
“Of course,” Rita said as she got up and went to the family room. She returned with two copies of the paper. “We never seem to recycle them before the next one arrives.”
She handed each of us a copy, and Jan went immediately to the second section where the classified ads generally live. I started looking for the newspaper’s masthead, often printed in the front along with the Publication Class Postal information that is mandated to appear in the first four pages. I found what I was looking for on page A-six, the opinion page.
“Sonny Long Smith,” I said aloud.
Ed nodded, “That’s it; don’t know how I could forget that moniker, but I did.”
I was punching in the numbers when I heard Jan say, “Four p.m. on Monday.” I heard a voice at the other end of the line say, “Rapid Reporter, how may I help you?”
I asked for Mr. Smith, and she informed me he was out of the office at the moment and wondered if I’d like his personal voice mail. I told her I would, and moments later I heard his recording.
“Hi! This is Sonny Smith. Thanks for calling. On Tuesday, June third, I’ll be in and out of the office all day. Please leave me a message with a phone number and I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
I introduced myself as a retired small-town newspaper guy in town visiting and wondered if I could have a few minutes to meet and chat with him – perhaps buy him a cup of coffee. I left my cell phone number and hung up.
“Jim,” Ed said sounding a little irritable, “I appreciate your can-do enthusiasm, but I hardly think I want you sharing our dilemma with the local paper...”
“Relax, Ed. I just want to find out what the real absolute deadline is for a personal. We may need as much time as possible...”
Jensen called back just at noon. I took the call and walked to Ed’s study where I gave Ray a quick overview of the problem.
“Jesus H. Christ, Stanton, why didn’t you call me day one?”
“I have no answer to that, Ray. It would have been a smart move, but I’m calling now.”
“I have a buddy in the St. Louis office. I’ll give him a call and this number. Okay?”
“Yeah, but I want you to emphasize that we need tact, not sirens and headlines...”
“Oh, you want to emphasize? Thanks, that’s noted. Now sit tight and try not to screw this up any further, okay?”
I started to rise to that, but, of course, he’d hung up. I don’t know if I’ve ever had an agent say good bye on the phone... I stood there, knowing Ed and Rita were going to want to know what he said, but not sure just how to bring them along in understanding Jensen’s or the FBI’s approach to crime.
Chapter 9
I hadn’t gotten back to the kitchen when my phone rang. “Mr. Stanton? This is Archie Richards. I’m a special agent with the FBI in St. Louis. Ray Jensen asked me to call you.
“That was fast,” I answered reflexively.
“Well, I didn’t take the time to call the media.”
“I guess Jensen’s briefing was pretty thorough, then,” I said feeling a bit embarrassed.
“I worked with Ray for more than a decade when we were both first in the agency, Mr. Stanton, and I assure you I got everything you shared with him and there’s an e-mail recap coming as well.”
“Then you know pretty much what I know except for the structure of this family which is pretty extensive.”
“I think I need to come to Elliotsville and meet with the Sweets – Ed and Rita, right?”
“I know they’ll be scared that by calling you they might have pulled the trigger on the threat, but I think it’s essential that they get professional help on this...”
“Really? That a sincere thought, Mr. Stanton?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”
“Well, based on the background I got from Ray as well as the summaries from the eighties that are in your file, I’m a bit surprised you’re inviting any agency in to help.”
“Ed called me and asked for help; I consider my presence and ability to get him involved with competent authorities might be the best help I can provide him.”
“So, you’ll be going back to Oregon as soon as we arrive?”
That took me back for a second and he pressed it, “Is that your plan, Mr. Stanton?”
I recovered enough to answer, “I’ll go back to Oregon when Ed and Rita tell me they’d just as soon I did...”
“Good answer; we’ll be there by tonight, and we’ll make contact with the Sweets on their land line. You can tell them to expect our call before six.”
“Just remember, the note they got demanded the name of a child in a personal ad in next week’s newspaper; the published deadline for that ad four p.m. Tuesday. I’ve got a call in to the editor to find out if that’s an absolute deadline.”
“I have that information from Ray, but I get your gist... if there’s no name in the ad, what is supposed to happen?”
“The note did not anticipate that contingency, but I can’t help but feel it won’t be a good thi
ng.”
“We’ll call as soon as we arrive.”
I didn’t hear him disconnect, but I knew he had, and I was right. I was back in Ed’s den and stood there, wondering how I was going to report this to him and Rita when my phone growled again.
“Jim Stanton.”
“Mr. Stanton, this is Sonny Smith from the Reporter.”
“Oh, thanks for calling back, Mr. Smith.”
“Just Sonny, please. Mr. Stanton, my day today is packed with meetings both in and out of the office. But I’m looking pretty good for coffee tomorrow morning, say tenish?”
“That sounds real good.”
“Drop down at the paper and we can walk from there, okay?”
“At ten.”
“Perfect. I look forward to meeting you then.”
“Same here,” I said. “Good-bye.”
“Good-bye.”
I looked at my phone in appreciation of his good manners. I wasn’t surprised. I knew he was a conscientious man by the nature of his phone message – no nonsense, but always polite. I was struggling to place his faint southern accent when Jan stepped into the den.
I watched her as the room hit her senses. Her mouth opened as if to say something, but no sound escaped, she just started a three-hundred-sixty degree gawk. Her eyes had lighted up in appreciation and as her face came back to me I could see the smile tugging at her lips. Finally she uttered a hushed, “Wow...”
Chapter 10
Ed and Rita were stone-faced as I went slowly over my contact with the FBI agent Archie Richards. I paused, looked to Jan for help, but she just smiled at me.
“Ed, Rita?”
They didn’t blink, just stared at me, and I could only wonder at what they were thinking. “Okay, maybe I’m all wrong here, but if it were my problem, my children and my grandchildren, I’d be talking to someone in an official capacity. You asked me for my help, and getting Archie Richards into this discussion may well be the most helpful I can be...”
I ran out of steam and again looked to Jan, who this time nodded just faintly, smile still in place.
“You have to understand that these folks deal daily with issues that none of us have ever even considered before; and they only chalk up a win if they catch the bad guy and leave no innocent victims in their wake...” Again I stalled.
“You ever worked with these folks before?” Ed asked, looking me right in the eye.
“No. Never heard of Archie Richards before today; but I have worked with FBI agents before, back in the eighties once – a woman and a guy – both top notch professionals who had the ability and drive to connect dots I couldn’t even see.
“And then Ray Jensen. They’ve all been a bit short on bedside manner, but they have always been direct, truthful, and effective. I can’t believe any of the people Ray Jensen could suggest would be sub par in those areas.”
Rita had a tear running down her cheek. “Jim, I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to one of my babies, but if it happened because of something we did... I just couldn’t live with that.”
I nodded somberly, “Of course, Rita. I’d feel the same way, and that’s just what the person or people behind this are counting on. They’re pretty sure they can snow you and me, but they don’t want any part of real policemen and full-time investigators...
“Our play, the only play in my opinion, is to involve the pros before our fear leads us down a real wrong path...” I again looked at Jan, and her smile had changed, and I could see the approval of my tone and message in her eyes. I cocked my head a bit and silently asked for help.
“I think this is the right move,” she said softly. “I have a great deal of trust in Jim’s instincts and courage, but we can’t know what we don’t know. The agents have access to all kinds of knowledge – case histories, studies – you name it, they have it. If Richards and his partner are cut from the Ray Jensen cloth, this is our best move...”
Ed roused himself. “I am so grateful that you folks are still talking in the plural possessive. I think you’re right; this is the right thing to do, but without you I might have sat here and worried myself to death.”
Rita stood up. “I’m sure you’re hungry.” As she turned to leave, Jan jumped out of her chair and followed her.
Ed sat looking at his library, and finally said, “I wish I could just go cook and feel like I was doing something worthwhile...”
Chapter 11
Richards and his partner, a young, dark haired, athletic woman named Andrea Hurst, rang the doorbell just after four in the afternoon.
Ed opened the door, and invited them in without a look even as they were holding their badges up for him to see. I was standing in the door to his study, and smiled at the look that passed between the two agents as they put their badge cases away and followed Ed towards me.
“This is Jim Stanton,” Ed said in way of introduction.
He walked into his room, and I extended my hand first to Richards and then to Hurst. “I’m just Archie, and we call her Andy,” Richards said with a nod back at his partner as he followed Ed. I followed them in, pulled a straight chair from a gaming table and sat behind them as they landed in the plush library chairs facing the fireplace.
“Where’s Mrs. Sweet?” Richards asked politely.
“On the patio with Mrs. Stanton,” Ed said in a lifeless voice. “I came in here out of habit; we should probably go out there, the seating is better for a group discussion...”
Richards turned to me, “Perhaps you could join your wife and ask Mrs. Sweet to join us? We’ll call you if we need you.”
I nodded and made my way to the patio, “Rita? The agents are in the study with Ed, and they’d like you to join them.”
Both women started to rise, but I put my hand out in a stop gesture towards Jan. She sat back down, and Rita turned to look at her before turning back to me. “You’re not part of this?”
“I’m sure they want to meet privately with you and Ed. I like this as a sign that they’re being conscientious about keeping the circle close, you know?”
She nodded in a vague way, and left the room.
“What kind of bull is this?” Jan asked in a very quiet voice. It was almost a whisper.
“I don’t know, but I really think the best thing that can happen here is that the agents become the center of the Sweets’ attention and world... I don’t want us to be a distraction.”
“But they called you.”
“We can’t hold a mistake like that against them. You know as well as I that they should have called someone like the FBI.”
“You don’t feel jilted?”
“I don’t feel fired, either. I really want to help these nice folks; it’s about them, not me or us, isn’t it?”
“Of course, but...”
“If there’s a role for us in this, then Richards will suggest it; if not, then we need to be good cheerleaders.”
“Would we go home?”
“If we’re in the way, yes.”
“I can’t believe they couldn’t use your skills...”
We sat silent after that. I could hear the clock in the kitchen ticking and there was a distant humming that took me a few minutes to identify as the summer background sound of the country – insects, birds, distant civilized sounds all mixed up into a hum.
One of the joys of my life was finding another person who I was comfortable sitting with quietly. I had found that quality with my first wife, Sandy, and hadn’t fully appreciated it while she was alive. When Jan came into my life, I recognized this familiar comfort right from the start, and I cherished it.
We heard footsteps before Agent Richard poked his head out on the patio. “Can I interrupt?”
“Come on out,” Jan said, rising with her hand out, “I’m Jan Stanton.”
“Glad to meet you,” he said taking her hand with a warm smile. “My partner is walking the Sweets through a bunch of background stuff about their children. I’ll study her notes tonight. I thought now mi
ght be a good time to find out where y’all fit into this affair...”
Jan sat back into her chaise, and Richards took a chair from the table and turned it to face us as he sat. He “looked” the question at us with a shrug.
“We’ll fit where you and the Sweets think we fit best,” I said.
He nodded with a half-smile, half-grimace. “There seems to be some disagreement on that fit at this time.”
I said nothing, but Jan looked surprised at the comment.
Richards continued, “I didn't immediately see any role for the two of you; Ed and Rita are adamant that you are vital...”
“Let me straighten that out for you,” I said quietly. “We will do nothing that impedes your ability to solve this case and we’ll do anything, and I mean anything, you ask of us that improves the likelihood of a happy ending for this family.” Jan was sitting forward, listening, and nodded vigorously in her agreement.
I could see Richards relax a bit. “Perfect.”
He leaned back, “I understand you’re having coffee with the editor of the paper tomorrow morning?”
“I have an appointment; if you’d prefer I not show, I’ll call and cancel.”
“Oh, no; I think that’s perfect. At some point we may need mister....” he was looking at his notebook, “...Smith’s cooperation. I could see that happening and I could see you making that easier... from everything in your file...”
I interrupted him. “File? You mentioned that before. I have a file with the FBI?”
He smiled a look that might have spawned from embarrassment, “Yes; it’s pretty thin, but you indeed have a file that dates back to nineteen eighty-five...
“Anyway, the notes from back then and again more recently from Ray Jensen, indicate you have certain interviewing skills that might really help right now.”
“How?” Jan couldn’t help herself, and got a scowl for her interruption.
Richards kept his focus on me, “I think you need to interview each of the children, and perhaps their wives and husbands.”
I sat back, feeling almost as if I had been slapped. I was reeling and he could see it in my eyes even as I took control of my pulse.
