I found the nearest payphone, put in my long-distance authorization code, and dialed the number on my pager. The receptionist rang my mother’s room. She answered immediately.
“Don’t be mad, Legend, but I think I screwed up.”
“What did you do, Mom?”
“I’m really sorry.”
“Tell me what you did?”
“You’re mad.”
“Not yet. I don’t know what you’ve done.”
“Well, you’re going to be mad.”
“Mom, if you don’t tell me what you did, then I’ll be mad regardless.”
She sighed into the phone. “I called Scott. I badly wanted to give him a piece of my mind.”
“When did you call him?”
“Two nights ago.”
“And when did the men show up?”
“How did you know men showed up?”
“Now you know why I told you to lay low. When did they show up? And how many?”
“I don’t know when they showed up, but I spotted them watching me this morning at breakfast. Two of them. I think they checked into the resort.”
“Mom, I’ll be there as soon as I can, but I’m in Washington, D.C. at the moment. Do not leave the resort under any circumstances. I’d prefer you didn’t even leave your room. Order room service. If you have to leave the room, do it as part of a large group. I’ll be on the first flight there. Can you lay low until then, Mom?”
“I told you you’d be mad.”
“It’s okay, Mom. I’m not mad. And even if I were, I would still be taking it out on the assholes who showed up. One last time, Mom, can you lay low until I get there?”
“Yes, son, I can do that. I am sorry. I had no idea they could track calls. I thought only the police could do that.”
“Anyone with money can pay someone for answers. Don’t worry. If you can stay in your room, then I can fix this. I promise. I love you, Mom. I’ll be there as quick as possible.”
I told Mom I wasn’t mad. That was a big, bold-faced lie. I was seething mad. A little mad at Mom for not listening, but mostly mad at Scott Beyers and the Chicago Outfit.
My anger did not go unnoticed by Jessica when I returned to the table. “What’s wrong, Legend?”
“I have to fly to Missouri ASAP. Marshall, I could use your FBI help to get me on the first available flight. Jessica, make sure I have a rental waiting on me when I touch down. You can tell me what I missed on the way to the airport. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 24
Jessica grew up in a small town in southern Tennessee less than 20 miles above the Mississippi state line. Not exactly an area known for snow. She remembered one particular storm that blanketed the area with a foot of snow when she was a child. For an area with no snow removal equipment, it seemed the world came to a stop for four days as everyone waited for the snow to melt. It was the first and only time she made a snowman. Getting the huge snowball started to make the body of the snowman proved tricky, but once the snowball reached a certain size, it seemed to grow exponentially. Two male cousins working on a separate snowman thought it would be fun to push their ever-growing snowball over the crest of a hill and let gravity take over. The hill was long and steep, and the snow was wet. The boys thought it was awesome. Right up until they realized the snowball was out of control and they couldn’t stop it. The side of her father’s truck stopped the ball for them, courtesy of a large dent and over 800 dollars in damage.
The snowball effect.
Life can be like that at times. Especially the last few days.
They found Boyd, well, sort of. He was in the D.C. area with Shelley Baxter. Probably to plan his retribution for sending men after him in Wisconsin. She still had a hard time believing Boyd chose to go into hiding with Ms. Baxter instead of calling the police to report the attack. He must have his reasons, such as a belief that someone as rich and powerful as George Mansfield was above the law. What didn’t make any sense was why he hadn’t thought to include Legend in his little plan.
Larry thought he had located a possible candidate for the person killed seven years ago as a substitute for Shelley Baxter. Knowing someone killed an innocent woman to use as a body double to hide a kidnapping only added to the feeling that the whole investigation into finding Boyd was out of control. Before this was over, whatever Boyd had started was sure to reach a horrible, dramatic conclusion. Just like the snowball that took out her father’s truck door.
Not to mention that the use of a substitute victim cast significant suspicion into Shelley Baxter’s role in the alleged kidnapping. Maybe Mansfield was right. Maybe she did fake the whole thing to con him out of three million dollars. Which meant she was smart and evil and not above killing innocent people. Maybe Boyd was next. Get him to do her dirty work, utilize him for his skill set as Legend says, then kill him when he’s no longer useful.
To make matters worse, when everyone needed him in D.C., her husband was on a flight to St. Louis. An hour and 45 minutes in the air. Three hours by vehicle to the Ozarks. Maybe he could cut the time to a little over two hours, but that would require him averaging 80 miles per hour. All to save his mother from two members of the Chicago Outfit who are stalking her.
Knowing Legend was going in unarmed frightened her. Legend was unbelievably resourceful, and let’s face it, darn right dangerous, but he was on his way to confront members of organized crime. Maybe they were equally as dangerous. She was sure they would be armed. It felt like this was an entirely different out-of-control snowball. One that started last year with the two men he sent to the hospital, and now that snowball was headed for its own fateful conclusion.
She had wanted to go with Legend. To help him reconnoiter the situation. He insisted she stay and help find Boyd. That she was one of the few people he trusted with the task of finding him before he did something stupid instead of waiting to investigate and arrest him after the fact. It made sense, and knowing Legend trusted her, really trusted her and wasn’t saying that to keep her out of harm’s way, gave her joy in a difficult situation. It did not make her feel any less anxious.
She turned to look at Special Agent Marshall, who was driving back from Dulles International Airport. It was only three days ago she and Legend decided to work with her. Now, she seemed like a permanent part of the quest for Boyd and an unlikely ally, even if Marshall seemed to doubt Boyd’s intentions at times.
“You’re worried about your husband?” Marshall said. The first words either of them had spoken for the last ten minutes.
“Sure, who wouldn’t be.”
“Jessica, I have to admit I’m worried, too. L.T. looked very angry.”
“Legend was even angrier than he looked. Trust me on that one. He does his best to hide it. Meaning what you see is only the tip of the iceberg. But I’m not worried because I think he won’t succeed in getting his mother out of there. I’m more worried about what he’ll have to do to get her out.”
“You mean like you’re more worried about the legal ramifications than his safety?”
“Legal ramifications sure, but mostly future complications. Make no doubt; Legend will stop whoever has come after his mother. However, I’m afraid it will only paint a bigger target on our back. Sooner or later, the only solution to their problem with us and our problem with them will be a deadly one. I don’t want a Hatfield and McCoy situation with the damn Outfit.”
“I see where you are coming from, Jessica. What do you think L.T. will do?”
“Whatever it takes, Ann. And this time, he’s mad. Really mad. Someone will have to pay for this transgression, and it won’t be pretty.”
“Maybe the FBI could help in some way.”
Jessica laughed sarcastically. “You and I both know the feds wouldn’t lift a finger for us unless we have something to offer, something they can use against the Outfit in a court of law. Then, they would want to put us into witness protection. My guess is we’ll have to solve this on our own. I’m not looking forward to that.”
>
“You still don’t trust the FBI?”
“No, I don’t. But if it’s any consolation, I think I trust you. I don’t want to punch you in the face nearly as much as I used to.”
Marshall laughed. “I guess that’s an endorsement.”
“Marshall, I’m not going with you to Philadelphia. You don’t need me to meet with the missing girl’s parents.”
“I knew you were planning to send me on alone. I could see it in your face when L.T. told us to stick together.”
“He’s worried about me, that’s all. There’s no need. Boyd won’t hurt me, and the Outfit surely doesn’t know I’m in D.C.”
“Boyd isn’t the only player in this stupid chess game, Jessica. Your husband seems to think Evan Baxter and Mansfield are both potentially dangerous, and I’m prone to agree with him.”
“I still have to do what I have to do.”
“And what is that exactly?”
“Find Boyd. If the little pecker head won’t save himself from himself, then I guess it’s my responsibility to find him and slap some sense into him.”
***
Although she didn’t know how far Boyd would go to stop Mansfield, Jessica knew Boyd would reconnoiter and plan his approach until every i was dotted, and every t was crossed. Short of Legend, Boyd wouldn’t trust anyone else to do the reconnaissance. There was her opportunity. She knew it. Watch for Boyd watching Mansfield. The idea was simple, even if Boyd’s unique skill set promised to make the execution difficult. Before becoming a private investigator, Boyd worked for a company that designed, built, and installed high tech security systems and various types of sensors and surveillance equipment.
Boyd’s role in the company was in the installation of the systems and sensors. He once told Jessica he had installed a system at Quantico so the FBI could test its effectiveness. Mildly ironic given all the problems they had been having with the FBI recently. His favorite story detailed an installation at an oil pumping station in the Kenai Peninsula of Alaska involving fiber optic sensors attached to a chain-link perimeter fence to keep environmental activists from sabotaging the pumping equipment. An interesting feature of the sensor was the ability to listen to the noises the intruders made as they perturbed the fence. It was how they discovered a moose that enjoyed scratching his backside on the chain-link. Boyd cracked himself up every time he told the story.
Jessica hoped she could use Boyd’s love of technology against him. Maybe Mansfield would let her look for bugs attached to his windows, a favorite technique of Boyd’s. Maybe she could catch him retrieving one of his electronic gadgets or changing the batteries.
Ninety minutes after dropping Marshall off at a rental car agency, Jessica stopped in front of Mansfield’s Bethesda home. Starting at Mansfield’s home made the most sense since she knew there was no way Boyd had placed listening devices on the windows of Mansfield’s thirteenth-story office.
The house was as impressive as Legend had described it to her. She was scheduled to make 80 grand selling a very nice house to her mother-in-law. Mansfield lived in a different league. A multi-million dollar home. Hell, the landscaping probably cost him 80,000. And his home wasn’t even one of the nice houses in the neighborhood. Unlike most of the other homes, he did have an impressive security fence around the house. One she knew she couldn’t climb, and she couldn’t imagine Boyd having much better luck. Nor could she imagine him walking up to the fence with a ladder without being spotted in a rich neighborhood like Mansfield’s. The security gate seemed like the weak link for a guy like Boyd. Perhaps he used an electronic device to bypass the keypad, or scanned the air to intercept the signal from the remote opener, decoded it, and duplicated it.
After driving around the block to look for any weaknesses in the fence at other points, Jessica parked her vehicle and walked the sidewalk in front of Mansfield’s corner lot, looking through the wrought iron fence to study the first-story windows. She tried to move and act like someone admiring the house instead of someone casing it. The house was set too far away from the curb to adequately determine if Boyd had placed any bugs on the windows.
She turned around to survey the neighborhood looking for anything unusual. Every house looked lived in, meaning it was doubtful Boyd was holed up inside one watching her right now. Besides, Larry tracked Boyd’s number to a hotel room in Virginia, not a Bethesda residence. Other than her rental car, the only other vehicle parked on the street was a white panel truck that looked like a commercial vehicle, although there was no commercial lettering on the sides. Regardless, she checked the van and discovered it was empty. With no sign of Boyd, Jessica walked back to her car and began her stakeout.
Mansfield arrived home several hours later and drove through the entrance gate. A second car followed Mansfield through the gate, parking in the driveway as Mansfield parked his Mercedes in the garage. A tall, lean man in his late forties exited the second vehicle. A handsome man. Dressed in a gray linen suit. No tie. Jessica liked the look, thinking to herself that Legend would look good dressed like that. The man was wearing the same shoes from Britain that Legend liked so much. The man walked up to the front door and entered the house without knocking or waiting for Mansfield to open the door. Legend had mentioned seeing a similar man inside Dornbracht, Mansfield, and Villeroy. She would make sure to mention to Legend that his suspicions about the man seemed possible.
Jessica increased her attention to her surroundings now that Mansfield was home. The hotel clerk said Boyd had checked in three days earlier, meaning if Boyd was watching Mansfield, then he was probably familiar with Mansfield’s schedule. Thirty minutes of waiting produced no results. She didn’t want to leave, but hunger and the need to use the restroom was too strong to resist any longer. She drove back to Larry’s house. Ellen was away on EPA business, but Larry was waiting for Jessica when she arrived.
“Have you heard from L.T.?” he asked.
“No.”
“Do you know what he has planned?” Jessica noticed the concern in his voice.
“No, I don’t, Larry. Don’t worry about him. If he can’t handle it his way, he’ll call the local police and get them involved.”
“His way is what bothers me, Jess.” Larry was the only person who ever called her Jess. A few friends had tried it back in grade school only before Jessica quickly reminded them she preferred her whole name. For some reason, she didn’t mind it at all when Larry called her Jess.
“He’ll be fine, Larry.”
“You don’t look worried.”
“Two idiots against my Legend; they won’t know what hit them.”
“How about potential backlash?”
“Larry, I think Legend’s counting on backlash. I get the distinct impression this will be the last time the Outfit brings the fight to him. The next time, he’ll bring the fight to them.”
Larry nodded in agreement. “By the way, I’ve talked to Agent Marshall. She met the missing girl’s parents and picked up a few photographs to bring back. She didn’t sound too hopeful about the pictures. She is planning on talking to the boyfriend next. Hopefully, he’s receptive.”
“You said the boyfriend was a possible suspect in her disappearance. I would think he’d be ultra-receptive to anyone trying to clear his name.”
“There’s food in the kitchen, Jessica. Help yourself, then tell me what you’ve found so far.”
Jessica took him up on his offer, finding baked salmon, rice, and vegetables. She served herself and met Larry back in the living room. “Not much to tell, Larry. I looked for microphones on the windows, but the house is too far from the road. I need binoculars. No sign of Boyd. Day wasted. I should have gone with Agent Marshall.”
“Jess, I have binoculars in the car. What do you say we drive back over there and take a look? With Ellen gone, I could even sit with you for a while.”
“Why not. Let’s go before it gets dark.”
Larry knew a quicker way to Mansfield’s house, and within 20 minutes, they were s
tanding outside his home looking at all the ground floor windows with the binoculars. Both were wondering how long before the local police arrived to question them about their strange activity outside Mansfield’s home.
“I don’t see any microphones on the windows, Jess. What’s with the panel van over there?”
“It’s been there all day from what I can tell.” Larry started walking toward the van. “Save your breath, Larry, it’s empty.”
Larry kept walking until he was alongside the van. He examined the left side panel for several seconds before walking around to the cargo door.
Jessica walked over to Larry and watched him study the van. “What’s up?”
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. I’ll be right back.”
He returned with a camera bag, which he placed on the ground and opened up. He pulled a Canon SLR camera out of the bag, fished around for a filter that he placed on the end of his lens, and then aimed his camera at the van.
“You gonna tell me what you’re looking for?”
“Boyd has access to optical microphones, right?”
“Laser mics? Sure, but the laser wavelength is infrared. Can you see infrared with one of those filters?”
“I can’t see a thing with the filter on since it blocks out all the visible light.”
“Then, what are you doing?”
“My wife bought me this infrared filter as a present. I’ve never used it before today. Bear with me.”
Jessica watched as Larry fiddled around with the camera for a couple of minutes before speaking up. “It doesn’t work like that, Larry. Maybe if you held the camera directly in front of the laser, you might see a spot through the viewfinder. Maybe.”
“You do photography?”
“No, but I am an engineer, and I know how laser light works.”
“Alright, smartass. How do I test to see if there’s an infrared laser aimed at Mansfield’s windows?”
“Forget looking at the truck or trying to see the laser beam. Manual focus your camera on the windows without the filter. Then, put the filter on without changing the focus and photograph the windows that seem most perpendicular to the van.”
Deadly Promise Page 29