Rebekah. "Come on. You think God only exists on Earth? I'm sure God is watching over Peter on Tarizon. He apparently has plans for him there."
"But why Peter? It's so unfair."
It took a while, but I finally got Rebekah off the subject of Peter and told her about our need to find a hiding place for Tehra. She thought about it and then made a wonderful suggestion.
"What about the Double T Ranch?" Rebekah asked.
"The Double T Ranch. Hmm. . . . Yeah. That's a great idea."
The Double T Ranch was owned by an old client, Dusty Thomas. Thomas had been literally struck by lightning some time ago and killed, but his widow still lived on the ranch. She was a nice woman who would do anything for me since I'd successfully defended her husband when he was charged with the murder of an IRS agent.
The only trick would be getting Tehra there without Kulchz and the TGA knowing about it, but that would be a problem for another day. At least we had the beginning of a plan for the protection of the Loyalists forces on Earth.
36
Obstruction of Justice
Paula Waters
One afternoon in late September a cold front came through Dallas. At 3:01 p.m. the temperature was 101degrees and at 3:59 p.m. it was 59 degrees. When I stepped out of my car in my thin blouse and short skirt, I thought I'd stepped into a meat freezer. I wrapped my arms around me and hurried inside to my office. I'd gotten used to the Dallas heat and wasn't anxious for winter and cold temperatures to arrive.
When I sat down at my desk, I saw a message slip from Paul Thayer. I immediately picked up the telephone and gave him a call. Hopefully he had good news for me. The phone rang four times before he picked up.
"Paul? This is Paula Waters returning your call."
"Oh, hi, Paula. Thanks for calling me back. I just wanted to give you an update. We finally got a break."
"Thank God! What is it?"
"It seems one of the waitresses at the diner where they found the GTE service truck recognized one of the men on Stout's security team."
"Really? What's her name?"
"Blanche Reedy,” he said and then briefed me on all that she had told him. “She says she remembers because he flirted with her briefly while they were eating. The man she recognized is Rich Walls. She also says Lisa Andretti may have been with him, but she's not as sure about her."
"That's fabulous. . . . Damn. We are so close to having enough evidence to go with this defense. Just a little more and I'd almost have a duty to bring all this up at trial. Any luck in the neighborhood?"
"No. Not so far."
"Well, keep at it. This was a huge breakthrough. Thank you, Paul."
"You're welcome. I'll be in touch."
Paul's call lifted my spirits. If push came to shove we could go with our Almatech theory now and nobody would question our ethics. Although we couldn't prove Stout was behind the murders, the evidence certainly pointed in his direction. Enough so the jury might be sufficiently troubled to acquit Walter Stanley.
Being in such a good mood, I decided to spread my cheer into Stan's office. By the look on his face, I'd just got there in the nick of time. After I'd told him about our new star witness I asked, "So, what's up with you?"
He shrugged. "Oh, just the usual chap. I just got a trial setting in Ben Stover's case—January 7th—so, I was just trying to figure out how I was going to prove him innocent."
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Well, all you need to do is get Herman's buddy—what's his name?"
"Ike Eiseman."
"Right. If you could get Ikeie boy to tell the truth the entire case would crumble like a sand castle in a typhoon."
Stan nodded. "True, but the guy's a born liar. He's very smooth."
"Well, do you still have that truth serum?"
I was referring to a drug Mo had given Stan to use when we were desperate to get a witness to tell the truth. We'd actually used it on our own client to get her to remember something that had been erased from her conscious memory. It worked like a charm.
"Hmm. That's an interesting idea, but the last time we used it our client disappeared."
"True," I replied. "But we know that won't happen this time. I don't think Ralph Herman is married to an alien."
"No, he's not married at all. I'll give that idea some thought," Stan said giving me a wry smile. "Another idea would be to send you to the Cayman Islands to investigate that offshore account."
"Ah! Not this girl," I said emphatically. Stan was joking about the last trip I'd made to investigate an offshore bank account for a client. I'd gone to the British Virgin Islands and ended up in a hospital handcuffed to my bed next to a serial killer. I'd been arrested for suspicion of drug dealing, money laundering, possession, and aiding and abetting. It was all a setup and eventually the charges were dropped, but it soured my adventuresome spirit.
"Okay. I'll put Mo on it. He's the expert on money laundering. I'll call him this afternoon," Stan said.
"Good. Let me know what he finds out."
I nodded.
"I've got another problem," Stan said solemnly.
"What's that?"
"You know the little lie I told Agent Lot?"
"Yes. God, don't tell me he's contacted you again."
"I'm afraid so. He's called several times and I've been putting it off with one excuse or another."
"So, what are you going to do?"
"I've asked for help from Mo. I'm hoping they'll come up with something. In the meantime, if Agent Lot calls you, I'd plead ignorance."
"Don't worry. I don't know anything about your civil clients. I handle strictly criminal cases."
"Yeah, well you may be handling mine pretty soon if I don't figure something out."
I laughed tentatively. Stan was right. Lying to the FBI and removing evidence from a crime scene was a serious offense. If Stan went down for obstruction of justice, so would Jodie, and even I'd be incriminated since I was working on the case at the time too. That night I wanted to discuss all of this with Bart, but he didn't know about the aliens and I wasn't about to share that knowledge with him. It was better that he didn't know. If he found out, he'd be like Stan and have to know who they were and what they were doing here. But this wouldn't change anything. He couldn't force them to leave. The only result would be his life needlessly being put in jeopardy. No, I'd have to keep this to myself. There was no other way.
37
Prototype
Stan Turner
A week after our meeting with Mo and Kulchz, I was contacted by the man who was supposed to extricate me from my problems with Agent Lot of the FBI. His name was Alexander Tortoff. He was a large man with a full beard. He wore glasses and was rather sloppily dressed. He certainly looked the part of a man obsessed with his work rather than his appearance. When he came to my office for our meeting with Agent Lot he was carrying a large box.
An assistant helped him in with it and they set it down in front of my desk. The box contained a prototype of the air cleaning device that I had told Agent Lot about earlier. I had described it as a device that shot out a beam of light that cleaned and purified the air instantaneously. Tortoff had advised me that this actual prototype did that and much more and assured me he'd handle Agent Lot.
"This is my client Alexander Tortoff," I said to Lot.
"Good morning, sir," Lot said." Thank you for meeting with me."
"Agent Lot is with the FBI and they're investigating the theft of your prototype."
"Yes, that's wonderful," Tortoff replied. "Do you have any news?"
"No, but the bureau is working hard to find out who's responsible for the theft. Stan says it was some kind of an air cleaning device?"
"Yes. I call it the Eliminator. It removes 99.9% of all impurities in the air within seconds of its operation and scrubs all surfaces free of loose molecules. It will save millions of dollars to industries that use clean rooms or need a contaminant free environment for their operat
ions."
"I see," Agent Lot said. "Do you know of anyone who might want to steal this technology from you?"
Tortoff pulled a sheet of paper from his coat pocket. "Yes, as a matter of fact I've made a list for you of our major competitors and those who have advised us of their interest in purchasing our technology. Any one of them would have profited by the theft of our prototype."
Agent Lot took the paper and glanced through the names. "There are quite a few names here," he noted. "You've had discussions with each of these companies?"
"No. Not every one of them. We exhibited at a national trade show recently and these were the companies that expressed an interest in our technology. We've talked to many of them."
Lot's eyes narrowed as he went through the list of names. "You've been talking to the U.S. Army?"
"Yes. They are interested in it for use to combat chemical warfare. The Eliminator can remove toxic chemicals within its range within seconds and thus remove any danger to the personnel located there."
"Wow! I can see why someone wanted to steal this device."
"Would you like a demonstration?" Tortoff asked.
"Yes. Absolutely," Agent Lot replied.
Tortoff nodded and his assistant took the device and placed it on the corner of my desk. It was shaped like a Coleman Lantern cut vertically down the middle. The flat side was a clear substance and the curved portion a metallic grey. Tortoff pulled out a small fan, plugged it in to a socket on the wall, and placed it on my desk. The assistant pulled out a cotton bag and dumped the contents onto my desk as Tortoff turned on the fan.
In seconds the room was filled with a thick cloud of dust and flying debris. Agent Lot began coughing. My eyes
Act Normal, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 9 Page 37
