by Mark Young
She met his gaze. “Yeah. Once. He got angry at something I said and hit me. I kicked him where it hurt and walked away.”
“And that was it? He let you go?”
“I wish it was that simple. He knew I didn’t want Dad finding out about us.”
“Why not?”
“It’s hard to explain.” She glanced up for a second, then looked away. “I was afraid our relationship would turn into an office joke.”
“A joke?”
She glanced at him with irritation. “After I told him we were through, Joseph tried to force me back by threatening to flaunt our relationship at work. Make us an office joke if I didn’t change my mind. I was afraid dad might be embarrassed.” Again, she looked down, gripping her hands. “I thought he might be ashamed of me.”
“Why would Frank —”
“— Like I said, Travis. It is complicated and I don’t want to get into it right now.”
“Tommy knew how you felt?”
“Oh, yeah. But that was over a year ago.”
“A year ago? So why did Tommy have it on his calendar just a few days before disappearing?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Once Tommy talked to him, Joseph just seemed to disappear from my life. He never bothered me again. I don’t know what Tommy told him, but whatever they talked about it seemed to shake Joseph up. I’ve had no problems with him since.”
Becky finished flirting with the customer and came over to refill their cups. “Can I get you guys anything else?” she said, slipping the bill onto the table.
He shook his head, waiting until Becky ambled away. “Maybe Tommy learned something about Baptiste he used as leverage.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.” He thought for a moment. “Your brother represented criminal defendants, right?”
She nodded.
He leaned on the table, resting on both elbows and steepling his hands. “Maybe someone slipped Tommy some dirt on Baptiste, some information he could hold over the cop’s head to keep that creep in line.”
“I don’t know. Tommy never discussed it with me. Just told me the matter had been handled. I never heard a thing after that.”
After taking a sip of coffee, Travis picked up the bill. “Could it be possible Tommy found out something about Baptiste that got him killed?”
“I know he can be mean, but I don’t see him killing Tommy. Too much to lose. Besides, I think he’s afraid of my brother.”
“Afraid?”
“When Tommy and I visited Dad at the station, Joseph would take one look at Tommy and hightail it out of there. Like he had some urgent business elsewhere.”
Travis reached for his wallet. “I’ve got to meet your dad in Kamiah this morning. We’re going to take another look at Pete Axtell’s trailer.”
“He and Tommy were good friends. I hope Pete is okay.”
“Did Tommy ever mention any problems Axtell might be having at the casino?”
“At Whitewater? Never.” She stood as Travis pushed back his chair. “Tommy always kept things to himself.”
Travis walked toward the cash register after catching Becky’s attention. Jessie tugged on his arm. “Hey, I promised you breakfast.”
“I’ll take a rain check. That way, I know we’ll have another date.”
“Is this a date?”
“What would you call it?”
“I’d call it breakfast … for now.” She glanced at him with tired eyes. “You know, the way you live — across the river in the cabin — it’s hard to get in touch with you.”
“Is that right?”
“Like you’ve planned it that way.”
He grinned. “It doesn’t seem to have slowed you down.” He paid the bill, holding the door open for her as they left. Outside, a gentle breeze swept their way, morning sunlight warming a turquoise sky.
They stood near his truck for a moment. Jessie leaned back on the front quarter panel, closing her eyes as if listening to the sounds of the river. Her long dark hair hung loose around her shoulders, the beauty of her features highlighted by the morning’s yellow brilliance.
Looking at her, Travis thought Baptiste had been a very stupid man.
Slowly, she opened her eyes. “When I make up my mind about something, I don’t let anything get in the way. I just thought you needed to know that about me.” Pushing her hair away from her face, she smiled at him before turning and slowly walking toward her car.
Travis waited until Jessie drove from the parking lot. A moment later, he saw the yellow flash of her car as she crossed the bridge over the Lochsa and drove into Three Rivers campground. He went back inside the restaurant.
“Becky, you got a pay phone here?”
“You bet, sugar. If it was a snake, it would have bit you.” She pointed toward the wall nearest the counter. A pay phone hung on the wall between racks of postcards and gift items, the phone booth camouflaged with posters and handbills.
He pulled out a business card, dropped coins in the slot and dialed. A woman answered. “FBI, may I help you?”
“Could I speak to Special Agent Lafata. Tell him it’s Travis Mays.”
“Wait one moment while I see if he’s in.”
Travis waited, knowing he’d just been handed a line. Every FBI field office he ever visited seemed to have a mandatory grease board with every agent’s name listed, the board hanging where everyone in the office could see it. Agents scrawled on the board the times they planned to leave and return, and sometimes even where they might be headed. The woman probably wanted to give Lafata a chance to decide whether to take the call. He imagined the agent sat a few feet away from the woman.
“Transferring your call, sir.” Lafata must have accepted.
He heard clicking on the line. “Professor Mays, solved the case yet?” Lafata’s voice boomed in his ear
“Not yet. Even us local hotshots generally take a day or two to wrap up a homicide.”
“Well, you got something for me?”
“Yeah … but it’s sensitive.” He waited a moment, trying to decide how best to convey this message. “I want Frank White Eagle kept out of the loop. At least for now.”
“Hey, keeping your partner in the dark isn’t a good way to do business, Travis.” He noticed the agent used his first name, dropping all pretense of formality.
“Well, Clay … you want this information or not?”
“Don’t screw with me, hotshot. You got something on the case, I want it right now. Don’t play games with me.”
Travis smiled to himself. “Do we have a deal?”
He could bluster as well as Lafata. For the moment, the agent lacked leverage. Travis enjoyed his advantage. The agent allowed Frank and Travis to traipse through Tommy’s office, a possible crime scene. The court might call it an ‘unsupervised fishing expedition.’ Defense attorneys might yell and scream about cops planting evidence. This spelled leverage.
“We’ve got a deal.” The agent did not sound pleased.
“Fair enough.” Travis just bought Jessie some time to figure out what she’d tell her father. “On Tommy’s computer, you’re going to find an entry on the calendar a couple days before he disappeared. The entry reads ‘Jessie re: problem.’”
“Frank’s daughter? Big deal.” The agent paused, then came back on the line. “You ask her about it?”
“Uh huh. This morning over breakfast.”
Lafata laughed. “Frank know about you two?”
“Just breakfast, Clay. She showed up at my cabin and threw me an invitation.”
“Okay, lover boy. What’d you learn?”
The agent’s remark irked Travis. “She had a bad relationship with Officer Joseph Baptiste.”
“The cop working in Frank’s office?”
“Yeah.” Travis relayed Jessie’s information.
“That puts a spin on things. Keeping Frank in the dark might be tough. He has a way of finding things out.”
“Jessie wants it that w
ay. I promised.”
“There you go again. Making promises you might not be able to keep. You ought to be more careful.”
Travis bristled. “What are you getting at, Lafata?”
“Forget it. You better hope Frank doesn’t find out. If he does … I’d hate to be in your shoes.”
“Just let me know what Baptiste says.”
“That’s not how it works, professor. Anything else?”
Travis remembered the note he found about Pete Axtell in the Whitewater Casino file. He started to tell Lafata and then stopped. The agent made it clear this was going to be a one-way exchange. Two could play that game. If anything turned up at the trailer today, he’d reconsider passing it on to the agent. “Nothing that seems important right now. We’ll be in touch.”
“Give me your cell number in case I need to reach you.”
“Don’t have one. You can reach me through Frank.”
“What if I don’t want Frank to know I’m talking to you?”
“Write a letter or come hunt me down. I don’t use a phone, a computer, a pager — any technology created after Elvis Presley hit the big time. I distrust technology.”
“Elvis Presley. Isn’t that a little before your time?”
“The King is ageless.”
“What about your teaching job? Don’t you use technology there?”
“There are exceptions. But I won’t be at the university in the foreseeable future. Find some other way to reach me.”
“Paranoid, are we? Think big brother’s watching?” Lafata laughed.
He hung up the phone. As Travis walked back to his truck, something the agent said bothered him. Keeping this information from Frank did not feel right. A partner did not keep his fellow cop in the dark about an ongoing investigation like this.
The promise he gave to Jessie made everything very difficult. For now, he must honor his word. He just hoped Frank never found out. If he did, everything might get even more complicated.
He opened the truck door and climbed inside.
Chapter 14
Kamiah, Idaho
The Clearwater River wrapped its boulder-strewn arms around Kamiah — an historic settlement nestled in a valley, carved by the river over centuries — and seemed to hug the life out of the tiny hamlet in some seasons, while giving it life in others. Today, this little village seemed alive. Travis drove to the north edge of town and followed a gravel road that snaked its way from the highway almost to the river’s edge. He saw Frank’s car parked in front of a single-wide trailer that nestled in a grove of yellowing pines.
Frank emerged as Travis climbed from his truck “Place is open. Thought I’d wait until you got here. Supposed to be here earlier, weren’t you?” Irritation polished each word like sandpaper.
“Couple of errands to run,” Travis said, glancing at the other man. “Sorry. Should we get started?”
“Why not,” Frank said, turning toward the trailer. “Our officers went through this place when Pete turned up missing, looking for any evidence of foul play or anything that might suggest he left voluntarily. Came up with squat and started looking elsewhere.”
Travis nodded, opening the trailer door. The place was surprisingly neat; sink empty of dishes, bed made tight enough to pass military inspection. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Even the trash can stood empty.
“You know this guy?” Travis watched Frank pulling drawers out near the sink.
“Nah. He came by with Tommy a few times. I knew they hung out together, but I really didn’t know much about him. He worked in accounting at the casino. You know, a numbers cruncher.”
“Was he a neat freak?”
“Couldn’t tell ya. Like I said, didn’t know the guy very well.”
“Look around, Frank. This place look like a guy’s been living here? I’ll bet his laundry basket’s empty. No guy is this neat. Not even Monk.”
Frank cast a look around the trailer. “You may be right. I like things neat, and I don’t live like this.”
“It’s almost as if someone put everything back in place. After they tossed it.”
“So what are you saying?”
“We ought to go through this like Axtell stashed something. Whoever was here before us was looking for something. And it wasn’t our missing guy.”
“What’re we looking for?”
“Who knows?”
Two hours later, the trailer had been neatly trashed. Every drawer pulled out and dumped. Every cabinet emptied. The bed stripped and turned over. Clothes strewn on the floor, the bathroom torn apart. They even crawled under the trailer.
Frustrated, Travis leaned on a fold-down table near the kitchen and eased himself into the chair. “Came up empty. Any luck?”
Frank plopped down across from Travis, squinting. “I don’t know where else to look unless we start using a crowbar.”
“If there’s anything, it’s got to be in a place where he could have got to fast — without tearing this place apart. Maybe there’s nothing here. Or maybe whoever searched before us already found it.”
Frank leaned back and studied the ceiling. A round opaque light fixture hung above the table. Travis watched Frank lean over and flick on the light switch next to the door. Nothing happened. He flicked it a few more times.
Nothing.
He glanced at Travis before standing. “I know this place has electricity.”
“Maybe the light burned out.”
Frank carefully loosened the screws holding the glass in place. Once loosened, he removed the glass bowl. There were no bulbs in the light sockets. As he moved the bowl, a solid object inside scraped across the glass. Frank peered inside and smiled. He reached in and withdrew a USB flash drive.
“Bingo.”
“Strange place to hide your thumb drive.”
Frank slipped it in his pocket. “Not if you’re trying to hide it in plain sight.”
“Now, we just have to find a computer.”
“Got one in my office. Let’s go.”
Several hours later, they walked into Frank’s office. Travis saw Joseph Baptiste working at his desk. No FBI agents around. The officer glanced up from his desk, giving Travis a slight nod.
Frank waved Travis into his office and closed the door. “Take a load off. I’ll fire up the computer and see what’s on this puppy,” he said, withdrawing the drive from his pocket.
Frank waited for the computer to power up as Travis drew up a chair. The chief glanced at him for a moment. “By the way, Baptiste tells me he saw you and Jessie having breakfast together in Lowell this morning. One of the errands you had to run?”
Travis shifted in his seat. “She came by my place this morning and wanted to have breakfast.” He never saw Baptiste this morning. Not even another police unit. Another red flag waved in his mind about this officer. “I think she wanted to find out how the two of us are getting along.”
“And?”
“And what?
“How’re we doing?”
“Just swell, Frank.”
Something must have popped up on the monitor. He saw Frank shift his attention back to the screen. He breathed easier.
“Jessie tell you anything about the problem Tommy helped her with? The thing I found on the computer?” Frank looked over at him.
“We never got around to talking about it. I’ll ask her later.” He met Frank’s glare, knowing if he looked away right now Frank would know he was lying. The room suddenly felt warm.
Frank looked back at the monitor, clicking the mouse as he appeared to scroll through the files listed on the drive. “He’s got one file here, named ‘Customer Information.’ I’ll just open … whoa!”
Travis came around the desk carrying a folding chair he’d found leaning in the corner. He set it in place, sat down and peered over Frank’s shoulder.
“Look at this.” Frank pointed at the screen. “He’s got hundreds of casino customers, listed by name and credit card number. Each name has a sub file, listing
the customer’s date of birth, social security number, mailing address, home address and buying habits. Why is he walking around with this kind of information?”
“Go back to the files menu and let’s see what else he’s got listed.”
Frank clicked the back arrow until he came to the file directory. He scrolled down through the list.
Travis leaned forward, pointing. “Slow down, Frank. Go back up to the middle section there. See Tommy’s name? Open that file.”
Once Tommy White Eagle’s file popped opened, they saw a video file listed in a sub-directory. Once opened the file activated a video recording of two men sitting at a table. Although a little grainy, Travis recognized the two men were sitting in Axtell’s trailer where he and Frank found the thumb drive.
“That’s Pete on the right,” Frank said. He tried to zoom in on the man on the left. “I don’t recognize this other guy.”
Travis saw one of the men gesturing and realized one of the two men was speaking. “Do you have the sound muted?”
Frank leaned over and turned up the volume. “I always have that stuff turned off. Noise irritates me, all those bells and things they’ve built in.”
Travis wanted to tell Frank to shut up as he tried to listen to the two men’s conversation on the video. Once Frank stopped talking, conversation between the two men on the tape became audible.
“— I can’t do this anymore, sir. They’ll find out —”
“— You’ll do what you’re told until I say otherwise … if you value your pathetic life.”
Peter hung his head. “I can’t. They’re gonna find out any day.”
The other man leered. “At least you’ll still be breathing.”
“They’ll send me to prison. I can’t do time.”
“You don’t have a choice. Get me the rest of that information by next Tuesday or my people will send you to the big burial ground in the sky.” The speaker stood up and walked out of view, leaving Peter hunched over the table. They heard a door slam a moment later. Pete glanced toward where the hidden camera rested. He stood, walked toward the lens until he enveloped the picture. The recording went black.
Frank clicked the file closed, glancing up at Travis. “Interesting. We’ve got to get an ID on that other guy. This might be why Pete disappeared.”
