by S. J. Braden
‘Oh hell no! People profess the King’s energy and spirit being at the mansion and how it affects them. We all know some of the best musicians are blind.”
“If I, as a blind musician, am attending a museum with my three closest friends, couldn’t one of you escort me instead of a dog? I’m just playing devil’s advocate here.”
“Hum, if it comes up, just tell them someone holding your arm would affect your ability to hear the King’s spirit speaking to you. Yeah, that should work. They are accustomed to some pretty weird and fanatical fans.”
“All right. The only other problem is I’m white.”
“What? Why is that a problem?”
“All those great blind musicians you referred to are all black. Not a white one among them.”
“Have you forgotten Ronnie Milsap? He actually even worked with Elvis. Just go with it, we’re here. Black men don’t have a monopoly on being blind musicians. Jake will naturally walk beside me. If you walk a half step behind him, I think we can pull this off. There are Trent and Frankie. Wait, don’t get out of the truck yet. Do you have dark sunglasses?”
“No mine are those yellow HD glasses.”
“Why would a blind man need HD sunglasses?”
“I don’t know, I’m not blind! Maybe since he’s blind he doesn’t know what color they are.”
“Okay, let me see if Trent or Frankie have dark ones before you get out.”
The four men and a dog entered the legendary music note adorned black iron gates of Graceland determined for no one to leave in a body bag.
No one paid much attention to the three men walking with the blind man and his dog. The blind man and the dog, however, garnered attention from fellow tourist. As the middle-aged white man in dark glasses followed the dog, he appeared to be looking toward the ceiling. Those close enough to him realized he was humming Ain’t Nothing But a Hound Dog. Some tourist seemed amused by his gentle swaying and humming as though he was experiencing some religious awakening. Frankie, Trent, and Court were able to look intently at everything as the entire tour slowed to Pierce’s pace. No one noticed how much attention the three men were paying to the most inane objects as they went from one room to the next. As Pierce swayed and kept his momentum moving forward he had the thought, I wish Sarah Frances could see me now. I know she’d laugh and that’s my favorite sound ever. I sure could use a little of that beautiful sound right now. I’ll have to remember to show her the blind me the next time I see her.
The tour began in the Foyer from where visitors could see the living room on one side of the entrance, the dining room directly across it and the staircase in the center. Court panicked when he realized you must go through the living room to actually enter the music room. You could see into the music room, but the tour didn’t actually enter the room. He hoped what he was looking for wasn’t in the Music Room and reasoned since it’s not on the tour, the bomber wouldn’t have access to it either. The tour progressed through the rest of the downstairs rooms, the kitchen, Elvis’ mother’s room, the TV room and the pool room. Then the tour progressed up the back stairway to the second floor. Pierce walked behind Court with his hand resting on Court’s shoulder to help guide him up the steps. The other tour participants seemed to be convinced that Pierce was blind, yet no one questioned why a blind man would be doing something as visual as touring a dead rock star’s house.
As they entered the Jungle room, Jake suddenly sat down. Pierce continuing with his swaying and humming and looking toward the ceiling almost tripped over the sitting dog, but Trent grabbed his arm and steadied him as Court stared ahead seeing what Jake was eying, his nose working in the air like a rabbit in a lettuce patch.
Straight ahead was an upholstered deep barrel chair. Straight out of the seventies. But it wasn’t the questionable fabric that created so much interest. Resting in the chair, next to a guitar propped as though set down for just moment was a large stuffed teddy bear. Court went into action. He approached the docent and whispered into his ear.
“I’m sorry, but can you please take the rest of the tour ahead and try to clear out the mansion? I’m a bomb expert and there’s a bomb in that teddy bear over there. I don’t want to alert anyone or the press will be here in droves and it won’t be good publicity. We can keep this quiet or not, it’s all up to you. What do you think your bosses would want you to do?”
“You wait right here. Don’t move, don’t touch anything. What about the blind dude, I guess you need me to help him out too, right?”
“Uh, no, he can stay, it’ll be alright.”
Chapter 24
The docent eyed Court suspiciously while he decided how to handle the situation. He knew if he took the rest of the guests ahead and left anyone behind, he would lose his job. No one was to be in the mansion unattended. But if the man was sincere, he decided his job wasn’t worth being blown to bits. He reached for his radio and requested a relief guide to pick up the tour in the Jungle room. He then motioned for the people in the group to follow him on to the next room and then told them that the tour had to be canceled due to unexpected circumstances. He explained if they would like to return the next day, they would be able to use rain checks picked up at the gift shop across the street to enter again at no additional charge. He cringed to himself and his hands began to shake as he hoped there would still be a Graceland by the next day, because he needed this job.
By the time the bewildered relief docent arrived, he found four men and a dog, standing over the teddy bear. The back of the bear lay ripped opened and exposed. The docent exclaimed, “What are you doing? Where is the guide? Stop! You can’t touch that!”
Just then he noticed the cell phone inside the back of the bear with wires running to what looked like white clay. He watched enough television to form a hypothesis as to what he was seeing and he began to back away slowly. As he did, Court said, “All of you, take Jake and make sure the house is empty. I’m going to try to disarm it here. Someone get the day box from my truck and bring it to the front entrance of the mansion. When I get it disarmed, I’ll bring it to the front door.” He then looked at the docent and said, “Not a word about this to anyone, do you hear?”
They all left to do what Court asked, while he removed tools from his pocket and went to work. Once they were clear of the room, the docent called on his radio for a golf cart to be brought to the rear entrance. He guided Trent, Frankie, Pierce and Jake to a rear stairway and looked disapprovingly at Pierce and said, “When we get down there, you need to be blind again. I’ll take you guys to your truck and bring one of you back with that box he wanted. Got it? The cart will make it much faster, that’s a long walk to the parking area. It’s just not going to be you, blind boy, who is coming back. You’re not really blind are you?”
“No, it’s how we got Jake in to find the bomb. Sorry,” Pierce answered and tried to look chagrined.
Frankie pulled his wallet out of his pocket and flashed his marshal’s badge and the docent seemed to relax. Just a little bit.
Court arrived at the front door carrying the defiled bear and saw Frankie on the golf cart with the day box. Court gently placed the disarmed bear in the box and asked the docent to get whoever was in charge. Before he even finished the statement, a guard accompanying a woman walked around the side of the house and approached. She introduced herself as Anna, the public relations manager for the estate.
Court addressed Anna, “I’m so sorry to disrupt your tours. As soon as the investigation is complete I will return the bear to you.”
“What is going on here? How did you know there was a bomb? Why weren’t we alerted? How do I know any of this is real?”
“We received a tip, but we didn’t know if it was credible. I know the stakes you go to in order to avoid any controversy here and I didn’t want to create a media spectacle. I still don’t. No press will be notified so you can continue with business as usual.”
“How do we know there aren’t any more?”
“If yo
u would like I can take Jake back through and check everywhere. I think this is an isolated incident. It doesn’t have anything to do with the museum or the Presley family. It’s another case altogether. To be honest, it has to do with the kidnapping of my wife, and I’m not supposed to alert any authorities. I would be appreciative if you wouldn’t either,” Court said as he handed Anna his business card.
“Yes, of course, we will work with you as long as there is no damage we would need to file with the insurance.”
The docent whose name Frankie learned was Mike, returned Frankie and the box to Court’s truck and brought Jake back to Court. It took Court and Jake two hours to search the mansion and another three hours to search the grounds, out buildings and stable. They didn't find any more bombs. Anna wished Court well and said she hoped his wife would be okay.
Mike again returned Jake and Court to Court’s truck, where to Court’s surprise he found Frankie waiting for him.
“I didn’t expect you to still be here.”
“Of course, I’m here. I’ll drive you home. Trent and Pierce went ahead a bit ago and promised to have dinner ready for us when we get there. I figured you would be exhausted and hungry.”
“I am. And dammit, I want my wife back. Thanks, friend, yes you can drive. I need to think. There has to be a better way to stop this than to run all over town disarming bombs. Oh, we need to take the bear to the office and add it to the safe with the duck.”
“Don’t worry, Trent and Pierce took it. Trent said you gave him the password to the safe.”
“I did. Just in case someone gets to me, or I get blown up.”
Chapter 25
Colleen was aware it had been forty-eight hours since her abduction. She was hungry. And she heard footsteps again.
This time, based on the build of the person, and the Marilyn Monroe mask, it was a woman visiting her. She was carrying a picnic basket. Colleen was thankful it wasn’t the same guy returning, not just because the food in the basket smelled good, but this woman wouldn’t notice she had managed to close half the distance to the bar, since the man had been there this morning.
The woman never said a word. She untied Colleen and pulled a gun from a holster under her pantsuit jacket. She escorted Colleen to the restroom, and allowed her to eat, the gun never wavering. She then tied Colleen’s ankles and wrist back to the chair and left. It never occurred to the woman that she left an item behind. As she retied Colleen’s ankles, Colleen deftly slid her fork up her sleeve. Now she had a tool.
She’d been tied to the chair for two days now and had not slept. But having been to the restroom, the sound of the rain pelting the windows and the roof and with a finally full stomach, Colleen drifted off to sleep. But it wasn’t peaceful. She dreamed the recurring nightmare she managed to escape a couple years ago. She heard the explosion and the resulting screams and cries. The wails from children, the horrific guttural moans from men, the high pitched keening of the women as she tried to lift concrete and rubble to unbury the owners of the voices she feared would haunt her forever. Her arm felt as though a fierce hot poker followed the veins from wrist to shoulder. And then the sound of the civil defense siren. Wait, that siren didn’t belong in the dream. She awoke, her arm still throbbing with the sharp pains, until she reminded herself it was all in her head, because her arm wasn’t there anymore, but the siren still screamed. She looked at the sky and saw the massive dark cloud to the south and hoped it wouldn’t turn in her direction. Colleen didn’t want to watch the funnel barrel toward her and the unobstructed windows. She watched as the funnel lifted back into the sky and she hoped it would stay there. She didn’t want the twisting twirling vacuum of air to take any lives today. She thought she was beginning to understand how awful it was for God to be omnipresent. Her bird’s eye view of just one part of one city for just a few days afforded her the opportunity to see so much destruction. She realized how strong her God must be to monitor the whole world, and with that, the tears came again.
Trent and Pierce took the rental SUV and the day box containing the bomb to the safe at Jake’s Explosives Academy. Court and Jake stayed behind to thoroughly check Graceland, and Frankie said he was waiting for Court.
Neither of the men said a word on the drive, both reflecting about the latest treasure hunt and both wondering how this was all going to end. Neither was in a positive frame of mind. Once the bomb was securely in the safe as Court had showed Trent to do, he looked at Pierce and asked, “Now what?”
“Do you mean, where do we go from here, what will come next, or what do we do to find Colleen?”
“Yes.”
Pierce shook his head, his chin dropped, eyes closed and he wondered all the same things.
“I guess the first thing is do we go back to Graceland or is there something more productive we can do?”
“I don’t know about productive, but I suppose there isn’t anything we can do at Graceland. Maybe we should go back to the house. We can pick up something for dinner on the way that Court and Frankie can warm up when they get there.”
“That sounds like a great idea. Okay, so what else can we come up with to help?”
“I don’t know, I keep running over everything in my head. It seems there are too many variables and not enough absolutes. Speaking of knowns, Court hasn’t heard anything from that Billings guy has he?”
“I don’t think so, he hasn’t said anything to me about it.”
“We need more information. I’ll remind Court when he gets back to check in with that guy. Also, I know from you telling me that Court freaked over the cops showing up when the Mari exploded. He hasn’t received any information from that investigation either. I think it’s going to look suspicious if he doesn’t at least call and ask if there’s any progress.”
“You know I don’t think the Mari has even crossed his mind since finding out Colleen was gone, and you’re right, it will look odd if he doesn’t inquire.”
“Maybe there’s a chance that we can get some information to work with if he makes those calls.”
“That’s a good plan. How about some fried chicken for dinner tonight? I’ve had enough pizza for a while.”
“Yep sounds good.”
When they returned to the house, Lucy was pacing. They were cautious and looked around inside and outside and found nothing suspicious. They finally decided she was stressed because Colleen wasn’t there. They also noted the kibble in her bowl and that she wasn’t eating either. Trent took her out for a walk, hoping to ease her anxiety, but knew that besides whatever she saw the day Colleen was taken, she could perceive the stress all of them were feeling.
While Trent was walking Lucy, Pierce put half the take home dinners in the refrigerator for Court and Frankie and searched cabinets for plates for he and Trent. He took in the kitchen of the McAllister home. It’s bright yellow decor with blue accents was happy and bright and the bay window in the breakfast nook faced east so the entire kitchen was bathed in morning light. He thought it would be a great place to enjoy coffee in the mornings if one wasn’t so stressed they actually noticed their surroundings. The white painted cabinets, stainless steel appliances and granite countertops completed the clean, bright, happy room.
Chapter 26
Friday morning, Court decided to call his right hand man in to help. It would give them another bomb dog, if the bomber ever called back with another location. Court asked Harley if he could come to the house and bring his dog Dasher with him. He asked him not to tell anyone at the office where he was going. Court hated bringing in someone else. He didn’t want to think it could be anyone who worked for him, but the fact is, it could be. He rationalized if it was anyone at the company it wouldn’t be Harley. And if Court only involved Harley and he did anything suspicious, Court felt sure he would catch it. But he needed another bomb dog and couldn’t figure any other way to get it. He also felt he could trust Harley not to call the cops and involve them. Harley liked Colleen too.
While he waited f
or Harley to arrive, Court called the detective handling the investigation of The Mari. He was thankful Pierce reminded him of that last night. As Trent suspected, he had completely forgotten about the Mari. That could be hard to explain to any authorities without mentioning his wife disappeared.
“Larson.”
“Detective Larson, this is Court McAllister. I was wondering if you have any information yet about the explosion on my yacht?
“Yes, we checked to see who entered the marina area on Tuesday. Only a few yacht owners and the club staff. But we discovered on Monday one of the owners hosted a party with approximately forty guests. We are still in the process of checking backgrounds and interviewing all the guests. It’s possible the bomber was a guest at the party or one of the attendees might have seen something.”
“Is there any chance I can get the club member’s name or the guest list?”
“Sure mate. As soon as the case is closed all the names will be available under the Freedom of Information Act. Until then it’s an ongoing investigation and I can’t release information.”
“I didn’t think you could give it to me but I just had to ask. Thank you, Detective.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll let you know as soon as we know anything conclusive. You have a good day now.”
Court was fairly certain he was just dismissed in a way he hadn’t been since his active duty days in the military.
“Good day, Detective.”
When Harley and Dasher arrived at the house, Court introduced him again to Pierce, Frankie and Trent. Then Court sat down with Harley at the kitchen table and told him what was going on. Harley was shocked. Appropriately enough so that Court felt he had no prior knowledge of what was going on.
Now there were five men getting restless and stir crazy, waiting for another clue. Some contact from the kidnapper. Trent and Pierce took Jake, Lucy and Dasher and went for a jog while Court called Sargent Billings to get an update on the hotel explosives case. Again he used the speaker phone so Frankie and Harley could hear the conversation.