Crown's Law

by Wolf Wootan

  “We’ll survive. Now we don’t need to sneak around.”

  “She bugged me about her ceremony again. Even offered to buy me an airline ticket. You can guess how that made me feel!”

  “I told you she would manipulate you. She’s a chip off the old block. I want you there, too.”

  “Yeah, but for different reasons, you lecher!”

  “Well, if I’m a lecher, you’re a lecheress,” he laughed.

  “Thanks to you,” she smiled.

  “But I want you there for Becky, too. It would mean a lot to her. She’s never had a friend like you. I think she is grooming you to be her surrogate mother. One that she won’t have to hate.”

  “I’m the wrong choice for that, for a lot of reasons. One being that I live 3000 miles away,” replied Bo, though it pleased her to hear it.

  “Just don’t dash her dream. A phone call here, an email there. She’ll forget this in time—as she grows older and gets immersed in her academic profession,” said Sam.

  “Poor dear. Whatever happened to her evil parents?”

  “Don’t ask. I never want her to know.”

  Bo stared into Sam’s eyes and got a fleeting glimpse of flashing steel. She knew, somehow, that he had handled it. She didn’t dare speculate how.

  “We have a big decision to make,” stated Sam.

  “What?”

  “Can I hug and kiss you in front of Becky?”

  “Oh my! That is a difficult decision! At least for me,” she answered with a frown. When she saw Becky returning, she removed her hand from Sam’s. He frowned. Becky saw the move.

  Becky sat down next to Bo, looked at her and smiled.

  “Sometimes life is like a movie, Bo. Like my prom. When it happens, don’t let it get away. Live it.”

  “Are you sure you’re not a philosophy major, Becky?” laughed Bo. “You’re pretty deep at times for a 16-year-old.”

  “That’s only my chronological age, Bo. You keep forgetting that,” replied Becky with a wink. “You and Sam may show affection toward each other in my presence without harming my psyche.”

  “We can, can we?” laughed Bo.

  “Yes. In fact, it would please me to know that you like each other.”

  Sam growled, “Don’t go getting pushy, young lady. We don’t need your permission to do anything. Remember, you’re the kid, I’m the adult.”

  “Oooo! Big scary ogre!” laughed Becky. She got up and kissed Sam on the cheek. “I love you, Sam.”

  She took the rest of the dishes into the kitchen, leaving them alone again.

  “What an amazing girl!” exclaimed Bo. “How could one not love her? I’ll have to find a way to come to her ceremony.”

  “Just let me know the details. I’ll do whatever is necessary to make it work. How about some of my dad’s 150-year-old cognac? I think he smuggled it out of France when he was still a field agent.”

  “Won’t he mind?”

  “He saves it for very special people. You’re special people. You have to try it. It’s unbelievably smooth,” said Sam. “It’s inside locked up. I’ll go pour us a couple of splashes. Be right back.”

  He got up, leaned over and kissed her on the lips.

  “In case Becky’s watching,” he laughed.

  Alone now, Bo lit a cigarette and contemplated her situation. The only thing she knew for sure was that she was completely bewitched by Becky. She hadn’t yet really seen the Becky who was the genius mathematician and physicist. Just a glimpse of that when Becky gave her the analysis of those equations—just a page of squiggles to Bo. Bo’s strongest impression of her was the time she spent getting her ready for her prom—merely an excited 16-year-old bubbling over with enthusiasm, and yet professing just a tad of fear about the unknown.

  Sam was still a complete enigma. She’d learned at The Fisherman’s restaurant that he had left the sheriff’s department after saving a woman and her daughter’s lives. Maybe her background check would clarify things. He had been a Marine in ’Nam. Got the Medal of Honor. He was a fantastic lover! He loved Becky and would, she was certain, protect her with his life. He had been gracious, kind, and considerate to her, Bo. He was a bachelor who played the field; probably slept with many women. That thought made her flinch. He was a great cook. What else did she know about him? Zip.

  She wondered what he meant when he had said that Becky’s abusive parents had been handled. The look in his eyes had not been pretty.

  Sam returned with two brandy snifters and put one in front of her. “There you go. In a fine restaurant, they would flame these, but I’m not in favor of that ritual.”

  She swished her brandy around and sniffed it. “You’re quite knowledgeable about wining, dining, and all worldly things, aren’t you, Sam?”

  She was probing, trying to get some details about him. He did not fit the P.I. stereotype.

  “I was exposed to a lot of it growing up. My father was moved around quite a bit—embassies all over the world. And my mother was—is—a rich society matron. You figure it out. I knew which fork to use long before I learned to ride a two-wheel bicycle,” he laughed. “It’s really a lot of useless information if you live in the real world.”

  Becky finished loading the dishwasher and cleaning the kitchen, grabbed a can of Sprite, and walked to the open screen slider.

  “May the kid have permission to join the adults, please?”

  “Can the sarcasm, missy,” growled Sam. “Permission granted.”

  Becky popped the top on her soda and sat next to Bo.

  “I won’t be going in to the campus tomorrow, Sam, so if you want company on your morning swim, I’m available. Do you have to leave early in the morning, Bo?”

  “Not unless someone calls and changes my schedule. I have some things in the works, so I have to go in at some point and check on progress. Then I have a 3 o’clock plane to catch.”

  She looked at Sam while speaking her last sentence. She hadn’t told him about the plane yet. And one of her “works in progress” was the background report on Sam that she had requested. She experienced a twinge of guilt.

  Sam’s face fell, showing disappointment. “I thought you might be around a little longer.”

  “Me, too, but the boss has beckoned. He wants a meeting of the senior team members on Thursday at 8:00 A.M. They should have the analysis of Becky’s equations by then. Some decisions will be made.”

  “Well, if the meeting isn’t until Thursday, you can take a later plane,” smiled Sam, pressuring her.

  “I wanted a day at home to get back into my routine. Shed the jet lag before the meeting.”

  “You know best. I just thought we could take a morning swim, have a nice lunch at the harbor—just the three of us. Then I could run you by the office in the afternoon, then take you to the airport later. But we couldn’t do all that and make a 3 o’clock plane,” shrugged Sam.

  “I can see where Becky gets her penchant for manipulation,” laughed Bo. “She’s studied under the master! You two are unbelievably devious!”

  Becky said, “Who? Moi?”

  “If you’ll fetch me my bag with my phone in it, Becky, I’ll see what’s available a little later in the day. I definitely don’t want the redeye!”

  Bo changed her flight to one that left at 8 P.M. The 6 o’clock was completely booked. The three of them chatted for awhile, Bo and Sam nursing their excellent cognac. At 8:45, Becky yawned.

  “I had an early day, so I’m going upstairs. I have a bit of work to do on my physics thesis, then to bed. I’ll leave you adults to yourselves,” said Becky.

  Bo stood and they hugged.

  “Goodnight, Becky,” said Bo. “Sleep well.”

  Becky got a crooked smile on her lips and replied, “Goodnight. Do you want me to bring your bag down before I retire? That way you two could stay out here and finish your drinks.”

  Bo’s face felt hot as she sensed the meaning of Becky’s statement. Becky was suggesting that Bo sleep in Sam’s room. She
was searching for an appropriate answer when Sam spoke up.

  “That’s it, young lady!” He stood. “We need a little pow-wow right now!”

  Becky paled. She had overdone it! Sam was really pissed off at her! She had gotten just a little bit too cute!

  Bo stood and put her hand on Sam’s shoulder.

  “No, Sam, please. Sit back down. This is between me and Becky,” she said, then she put her arm around Becky’s shoulders and added, “Let’s go upstairs, Becky.”

  When they were gone, Sam took a gulp of his brandy and nearly choked.

  “Damn!” he muttered.

  ***

  The two women entered Becky’s room and Bo closed the door. Becky was crying and grabbed several tissues from a box on her bedside table.

  “Bo, I’m so sorry!” she wept. “I’ve insulted you and hurt you badly! I just wasn’t thinking! It was so childish of me!”

  Bo pulled her to her chest, arms around her, and said, “You’re allowed to be childish once in awhile. In many ways, you are a child. But it’s never a child’s place —or an adult’s place for that matter—to get involved in other people’s personal lives. Especially not their sleeping arrangements. You had made your point earlier. That was more than enough. Sam and I are consenting adults. Decisions of what we will or will not do will be made by us, not anyone else.”

  “I’m mortified, Bo! I like you so much, and I . . .”

  “Shush now! In the future, think before putting your mouth into gear. This is part of growing up, so don’t dwell on it too long. Just learn from it. I always had my foot in my mouth when I was your age. Now, let’s clear the air and forget it. Let’s go back downstairs so you can apologize to your father. He’s probably ready to explode!”

  “Thank you, Bo! I do sincerely apologize! I’ve really screwed things up, haven’t I? Between us . . . and between you and Sam!”

  “You came close, but I forgive you. Now go see Sam.”

  Becky ran downstairs and apologized profusely to Sam, crying again. He stood and took her in his arms and told her it was OK. Bo came down a minute later with her suitcase and put it in Sam’s room before joining them on the deck.

  Becky kissed them both and went back to her room.

  Sam looked at Bo and said, “Everything straightened out?”

  She smiled. “I think so. She was just being cutesy and it jumped up and bit her. I think she’ll be more careful in the future.”

  “Sometimes I forget how young she is.”

  “I made my share of gaffs when I was her age. Didn’t you?”

  “Never,” he laughed. “So, after all of this, where are you sleeping tonight?”

  “I put my bag in your room. No use messing up your parents’ bed. Nikki just changed the linens.”

  “Now . . . that’s what I call being practical!”

  ***

  The incident was not mentioned the next morning, nor was the fact that Bo had slept in Sam’s room. Becky joined Sam on the last leg of his pier swim, then the three of them had breakfast on the deck—omelets with champagne and mimosas. Becky got her laptop and worked on cleaning up one appendix of her math thesis, and Sam and Bo went for a walk on the sand—hand in hand. It was a lazy morning, sea gulls and pelicans swooping and diving for fish.

  Later, the three of them had lunch on the patio at the Wind & Sea restaurant at the harbor, then Sam loaded Bo’s bag into his Camaro and he took her to the FBI office in Santa Ana.

  When she called him later, he picked her up at 5 o’clock and drove to his bachelor’s pad in Tustin where they had a quickie. Bo was not impressed with his small apartment after having seen the posh beach house, but it was clean, and adequate for what they had in mind. The bed was comfortable and the box springs didn’t squeak.

  ***

  They had dinner at the airport, and then Bo was gone. Sam had no idea if he would ever see her again, but he was sure he wouldn’t forget the four memorable days they had together. They had promised to stay in touch, but he knew how that went. Out of sight, out of mind. He called Becky at 8:15 and told her he was going to stay in his Tustin apartment that night. He knew Bo’s scent was still clinging to the sheets of his bed.

  ***

  After her plane reached cruising altitude and the pilot turned off the seat belt sign, Bo retrieved the 20-page document she had picked up at the FBI office. She got comfortable and began reading about the background of Samuel Crown. She had been told there was more to come, but she took what they had. The rest, when it was available, would be faxed to her D.C. office.

  Now, Sam Crown, just who in the hell are you really?

  Chapter 38

  Wednesday, June 6, 2001

  Santa Ana, CA

  Sam felt an uncharacteristic emptiness when he got to the office the next morning. He missed Bo already. Fortunately, Pearl had some work items that needed his attention—something to focus on. The papers for Becky’s new corporation had been delivered from the attorney’s office for signatures by Sam, Pearl, and Becky—the three directors. More importantly, Judge Manley’s clerk had called and told Pearl that if Becky could be at the court house at 3:00 P.M., he would handle her name change request in his chambers. She could be Rebecca Crown by the end of the day.

  Sam called Becky and told her the news. She said she would rearrange her schedule and be there for such an important event. She didn’t want the process delayed, because she wanted it to be a surprise to Nana and Grandpa Crown when she got her doctorates and they called out her name as Rebecca Crown, not Rebecca Rogers!

  ***

  When Sam and Becky got back to the office at 4 o’clock, Pearl sat down with Becky and helped her compile a list of places where she had to get her name officially changed: Social Security, passport, DMV, UCI, and so on. Also, a letter would have to be composed and sent to the various academic people who corresponded with Becky on a regular basis.

  Becky said, “You told me, Sam, that payback isn’t always with money. This is payback to Nana and Grandpa for all they’ve done for me. For how much I love them. And you, too, Sam. I hope they like it.”

  After the exhilarated Becky—Becky Crown—had zoomed off in her bug, Pearl went to Sam’s office and plopped down in the client’s chair.

  “She’s really hyped! I never realized how much this meant to her!” said Pearl.

  “She was always worried whether she belonged or not. This gives her some closure. I’m so proud of her!”

  Pearl was silent for a moment, then she said, “Did you give any of that tape info to your FBI girlfriend?”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” said Sam with a shrug.

  “Whatever. Did you?”

  “No. I can’t figure out a way to do it without involving Becky. That won’t do! Besides, it’s not usable as evidence.”

  “I know that! The murder and smuggling are fait accompli. You can’t stop those, but this meeting on the tenth hasn’t happened yet! And it sounds like it could affect national security! You’ve got to do something about that! I just don’t feel right being privy to such information and not doing anything! I could make an anonymous call to the FBI.”

  “They might just ignore you.”

  “But I’d feel better,” said Pearl, crossing her legs.

  Sam knew, based on the equations on Becky’s test, with 95% probability, that it was a potential act of treason. There was also the possibility that the FBI already knew about the meeting, and if he got in the middle of it, he could fuck up an FBI sting operation. He wasn’t sure what to do.

  “OK, Pearl, give me the exact location of the proposed meeting and I’ll go take a look-see. This could be an FBI sting and I don’t want to get caught up in it.”

  “Thanks, Sam. I’ll go get the info for you,” said Pearl. She uncrossed her legs and got up. The flash of inner thighs reminded Sam of Bo. Yes, he missed her!

  ***

  On Thursday the 7th, Sam paid a visit to the park mentioned on the tapes to check it out—see what
possibilities presented themselves. The park was located in Irvine just east of Harvard Avenue—not far from the I-405. Sam drove Pearl’s Toyota—his red Camaro was too well-known by law enforcement throughout the county—and he wore shorts, T-shirt, and running shoes. He jogged around the park with several other joggers. There was an area for children—swings, slides, sandbox—not far from the bench where the exchange was scheduled to take place.

  Not a good place for a shootout, thought Sam. Well chosen by the assholes! Kids and moms everywhere.

  Sam finally settled on a lamppost and two trees that were properly situated to give him good coverage of the bench and its environs if he used three cameras. He didn’t see a convenient place for his van, so he would have to use satellite communications back to the tech room at Mickey’s. He drove back to the office to discuss the technical aspects with Pearl.

  Later that afternoon, Sam returned in his van—now transformed into a “City Parks” van with ladders on the side—and began the process of mounting his high-tech video cameras. He wore blue coveralls with “City Parks” on the back. He hoped no real city employees showed up—they would spot him as an imposter in a second.

  After securing the cameras in place, he went to his van and intercepted the satellite feeds to check his positioning of the cameras. He wasn’t satisfied with the one on the lamppost, so he went back with his ladder to adjust it. When he was satisfied, he headed back to Santa Ana. He was ready. But for what?

  ***

  On Friday morning, using a picture put together a few days ago by Becky and Pearl using a computer program and Becky’s description, Sam started watching for Chase outside the Dynology building. Sam saw him arrive, confirming that his picture was good. Chase came out of the building at noon with a young woman with large breasts and long, blonde hair. They went to a nearby restaurant, then returned to the building at 1:15. No clues. No Bobby D’Orr. He followed Chase home after work and made a note of his address for possible later use. He went back to the office and got his Camaro and headed toward the beach. Another wasted day.

  Putting crooks in jail shouldn’t be this hard.