The Feds Speak
DOUG FINISHED WATCHING THE NEWS WITH ELLIE AND SARAH BEFORE going out to the bunkhouse later in the evening. The door was ajar and he could see Mara sound asleep on the bed. Thor looked up from his place next to her and gave a lazy yawn before rolling onto his back with all four feet in the air, and falling back asleep.
Latching the door, he went back to Ellie's house, where he made himself as comfortable as was possible on her sofa, and fell asleep for the night. The ringing of the phone woke him early the next morning, and he heard Ellie take the call. After tidying up the area where he had been sleeping, he took a shower before going to the kitchen where Ellie and Sarah were talking over their morning coffee. Ken had gone back down to Anchorage to file some paperwork and so Sarah had decided to stay with Ellie and Mara for the night.
“I checked on Mara and Thor already,” Ellie said, reading his mind.
“Mara's walking Thor in the yard right now and said she would be right in.”
When Mara and Thor did come in a few minutes later, Thor wasted no time going over to the chair where Doug was sitting. After putting his paws on Doug's knees, he gave him a big kiss on the side of his face.
As predicted, Doug's face was swollen and he had two black eyes. His nose felt stuffy, too, but compared to yesterday, the fracture was the least of his worries.
“I guess I fell asleep in the bunkhouse last night,” Mara said to the group seated around the table.
“Well, it's a wonder you even made it out there after yesterday,” Ellie said.
“None of us wanted to disturb you once you fell asleep. I hope you feel a little rested, anyway.”
“I do,” Mara answered.” Turning to Doug she said, “I'm sorry I put you out of your own place.”
“No problem,” he answered. “I can sleep just about anywhere.” Everyone pretended not to notice that it took him longer than usual to straighten up his back when he went to get some coffee.
“Didn't mind a bit.”
“That was Ken on the phone this morning,” Ellie said.
“Besides wanting to talk to his wife…”Ellie winked at Sarah, “he wanted to ask us all to meet him at the trooper station at two this afternoon. I told him we would be there.”
“He said the feds wanted to ask more questions,” Doug said.
“From what I got out of it, the feds had quite a bit to say this morning and Ken wants everyone to hear the same thing at the same time. Apparently Brad Edwards and Adam Carlson were both pretty well known to them.”
Mara could feel herself start to shake inside. Apparently there was quite a bit about her husband she knew nothing about. Sensing her friend's anxiety, Sarah reached over to touch her hand.
“Ken said to tell you, especially, not to worry, Mara. He said a lot of questions will be answered when you hear what the feds have to say.”
“Why don't we have a quick breakfast and head right on down?” Ellie suggested.
Everyone agreed, and by one forty-five, the four were standing in Ken Tandry's office.
You could hear a pin drop when Karen Steele walked in five minutes later wearing a dark blue suit and a badge that identified her as a member of the IPA (International Police Association).
“Everyone, come in…please,” a short, wiry man with a receding hairline, and a badge similar to the one worn by Karen Steele, said.
Escorting them to the chairs that had been placed around Ken Tandry's desk, he introduced himself as Nathan Strongdale, Director of the Western U.S Division of the IPA.
“I imagine each one of you are wondering why we brought you here today,” he began.
“First of all, I want to reassure you that none of you are suspected of any type of illicit activity. Our agency, in conjunction with the CIA and the FBI, has been running background checks on each of you over the course of the past several months—ever since the death of Dan Williams prompted the start of our investigation.”
Sarah, Ellie, Mara, and Doug cast looks of surprise at each other, but said nothing as Director Strongdale continued.
“When Dan Williams’ death was re-classified as a probable homicide, Sgt. Tandry requested a set of fingerprints and other identifying information from a national database used by law enforcement. This search triggered our interest in the investigation, as we had the file of Adam Carlson already flagged by our agency as under active investigation for drug smuggling.”
Director Strongdale paused to take a sip of water before continuing.
“Along with the FBI and the Alaska and Oregon State Police, we were in the process of conducting a sting operation to gather evidence on Adam Carlson. Because the drug smuggling that he was involved in was tied up with a major South American drug cartel, the investigation was planned to span approximately three to five years.”
Looking directly at Mara, Nathan Strongdale continued. “Five years ago, we assigned one of our top secret agents to the case. He was Brad Edwards.”
“How is that possible?” Mara gasped out the words. “We went to college together and got married and moved to the Amazon…how can this be possible? I would have known something.”
“With all due respect, Mrs. Edwards, Brad Edwards was trained to keep his real work secret even from those close to him. He joined our agency right after college, after having studied the necessary courses while in school.
“It is no surprise to us that you did not know, just as Brad's own mother never knew that his father was an agent, until one week before the car accident that took their lives. That accident, by the way, Mrs. Edwards, was no accident. Brad's father had been investigating the same drug cartel for twelve years and had identified one of the key players near the top of the organization.”
“In a major twist of fate, he and Brad's mother were seen together at a social event in Nicaragua, that was also attended by the drug lord who was about to be exposed. Somehow the drug lord was tipped as to Brad's father's real identity, and within a week, he and your husband's mother died in an accident on a mountain road. Investigation showed that their brake line had been cut.”
Nathan Strongdale paused to let the group absorb the information. Mara sat motionless in her chair, the others sat slack-jawed in disbelief. After several minutes, Strongdale continued.
“Brad Edwards knew about the hit on his parents and vowed to finish the job started by his father. He knew that a degree in biology would give him a legitimate reason to be in South America. Mara…” Strongdale's voice took on a nurturing tone.
“Mara, Brad loved you more than life. We all knew that. He made us promise that if he was ever in danger of putting you in harm's way that we would tell him immediately. As much as he wanted the job, he made sure that no one would pull any punches in making sure that you were protected. When you and Brad got to South America and he got closer to closing in on the situation, he knew he would have to do something to protect you.”
“We worked out a scheme to make it look like he died in a plane crash in the mountains. We made sure it happened on the border so as to confuse the investigation. In reality, Brad parachuted from the plane before it crashed and was picked up by agents in Peru, who tracked him by a homing device detectible only by our own people.”
“We took him out of service for several months and hid him on a small island in the Pacific that serves as an international police agency command center. There we issued him a new identity and sent him to Alaska, where he befriended and formed a business relationship with Dan Williams. Dan Williams was the perfect cover for Brad's work. Dan had a stellar reputation and the perfect business set up to carry out the sting. Not only that, but he also employed Adam Carlson. As a matter of fact, the fact that Dan did employ Adam Carlson was the main reason he was chosen as the front to the sting operation. In time, Brad, known to Dan as Steve Bitten, was able to gain Dan's trust enough to buy into half the business and move Adam Carlson under his direct control.”
“Did my brother know anything about this? “Doug as
ked.
“No,” Karen Steele said, speaking for the first time. “Neither Dan nor Ellie knew anything. Steve took up with Adam's sister, Amanda, at first to keep a closer eye on Adam. In time, he found it necessary to take the relationship to a deeper level to retain both Adam's and Sassy's trust. Once things started getting too serious…too involved, he created the situation with the misappropriation of funds, thus giving everyone a reason for him to leave the state. Once gone, he planned to try a slightly less risky approach.”
Karen Steele held everyone in rapt attention with the revelations about Brad Edwards, none more so than Brad's own wife, Mara.
“When Sassy took up with Dan's brother, Doug,” she said turning to face Doug, “something needed to happen to allow the situation to be watched more closely. That is where I came in. I set up a storefront as an independent real estate agent who worked in harmony with local agents. This gave me plenty of reason to interact with the business and private community, where I was able to monitor Amanda Carlson, Dan and Ellie Williams, and Doug Williams, as each of them related to Adam.”
“It was just coincidence that Dan was murdered right after Steve came back to Alaska, where we were set to close in on Adam. Steve…Brad…” Karen looked right at Mara and Ellie. “Steve was devastated that Adam had apparently killed Dan in some misguided attempt to protect him—or at least who he thought he was. That is why Steve worked so hard to find Dan and was so relieved when he did. When Dan later died, no one grieved for him more than Brad Edwards did, blaming himself for things going wrong.”
“What about Sassy?” Doug asked in a voice that was barely more than a whisper.
“Sassy was a pawn, Doug—plain and simple. She was nothing more than a vehicle for Steve to use in setting up the business transgressions with Dan, and to keep an eye on Adam. Her biggest crime was in loving her brother to a fault—that, and looking for love for herself. Until she killed Adam, there was no reason to pin any charges on her. Even now, we are struggling to find a way to tie the killing to self-defense or protection of innocent parties and we think the courts will go very gently with her when they hear all the facts. It is certainly our intent that she receive little if no jail time for the killing of international drug smuggler, Adam Carlson.”
“Why were you engaged to Brad?” Mara asked Karen Steele. “Did he love you? Did you love him?”
“Mara,” Karen said, pulling her chair close to Mara and leaning forward to talk to her directly.
“Brad loved you. You never knew it, but he had agents checking on you all the time. They would take pictures and bring them to him.”
Reaching into her pocket, she took out a wrinkled photo of Mara standing on the deck of her Boston home.
“This is the last photo he had of you. It was taken right before you left for Alaska. We took it out of a secret compartment in his wallet this morning.” By now tears were streaming down Mara's cheeks.
“Brad didn't know you were in Alaska,” Karen continued, “because we hadn't had a chance to brief him yet, and even we didn't find out until after Dan's murder when your name showed up among those in the police investigation. When he saw you come out of the book store, he ran as much to protect you as to protect himself from any urge to run to you and make you a target—and even more so, just to tell you he loved you. He told me that, Mara.”
Mara was sobbing gently. She was limp and totally spent from the entire ordeal. Karen Steele reached out to her and held her.
“Brad and I were nothing more than co-workers, Mara. The thing with Sassy was nothing more than a work-related liaison. The day that Brad went with A.C. up to Ellie's, he was planning to get A.C. the records he wanted and then find a way to turn the case over to another agent—find a way to disappear for a while. He told me he wanted to find a way to safely bring you to him, and he even told me he was planning to leave the agency because it just wasn't worth everything he had lost in losing first his parents and then you. Avenging the murder of his parents, he told me, would happen soon enough. He had done all he could to lay the groundwork for success in breaking up the drug cartel that had killed them. He was tired, Mara, and he just wanted to come home.”
Mara made a futile attempt to wipe the tears away from her eyes.
“I want to give these back to you,” Karen Steele said, handing her the two St. Christopher medals.
“Brad told us right from the beginning, way back in Brazil, that if anything ever happened to him, that we were to see to it that you got his medal.”
Unfolding the chains, Karen faced Mara and placed the medals around her neck, right where they had been for the past four years and right where they belonged.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Forgiveness
KEN TANDRY TALKED PRIVATELY WITH DOUG AFTER THE OTHERS HAD LEFT to take Mara back up to Ellie's. He told his friend that even though A.C. was dead, he thought he would want to know that they had found a receipt for the wire cutters in A.C.’s truck, as well as print outs from several aviation websites that included schematics and diagrams of Dan's model of plane. They also had evidence on Adam's hard drive that he had visited several sites that talked about ways to sabotage aircraft. Additionally, they had found a set of A.C.’s fingerprints on one of the runners of Dan's plane.
Ken went on to explain that Karen Steele, a team of investigators, and Brad Edwards, himself, had provided enough documentation to incriminate Adam Carlson on multiple counts of international drug smuggling, as well as for the murder of Dan Williams.
Additionally, it looked like Amanda Carlson was going to be cleared of any wrongdoing in any conspiracy involving her brother, Adam, Steve Bitten, or Dan Williams. Further, efforts were underway to give her a citation for heroism in saving the lives of both Ellie Williams and Mara Edwards. Her only wrongdoing, according to Tandry, was that she would need to be cited for driving with an expired driver's license, for which he would personally recommend that she not be cited—pending her immediate securing of a current one. According to Tandry, if Sassy had not chosen to drive when she did, she might not have stopped what surely would have been an even bigger massacre at Ellie's place.
Although morally unconscionable, it was found that her actions in bypassing Dan Williams, although they did amount to failure to render aid, did not result in or contribute to his death or permanent injury—a decision that the District Attorney reluctantly agreed with in view of the other circumstances, when deciding not to pursue charges.
Generally, it had been decided by everyone in authority, that Amanda Carlson, if she lived, would not be a threat to society, and in view of her personal sacrifices and even heroism, she would be allowed to leave the hospital when she was able.
Doug got in his truck and headed down the Glenn Highway for Anchorage. He wanted to visit Sassy one more time and try to obtain some closure for all that had gone on in the past, especially the past few months. While he was standing in line at the information desk, he overheard two native men discussing the location of a beachhead where the funeral service for an elder would be held in one week.
“Excuse me. I'm sorry to eavesdrop, but would you mind telling me if this elder was named Joe Michael?”
Several minutes later, after he had told them the story of Mara and the ferry, the feather, and the subsequent nearly unbelievable sequence of events, including how the feather he had given Mara floated between her and the murderous A.C. Carlson at the same time that Joe himself had passed on, he walked away with a hand drawn map of the location near Hoonah where the ceremony would be held. Leaning one elbow on the reception desk, he asked for the room number of Amanda Carlson and was directed to a room on the second floor.
After showing ID to the armed officer at the door and providing a security code given to him by Ken Tandry for clearance, Doug walked to Sassy's bedside and pulled up a chair. “Dougy.” Sassy said weakly. “I can't believe you came.”
Looking around, Doug saw that Sassy's room was devoid of the usual flowers and gifts that
he had seen when visiting others in the hospital. Sassy was pale and her long, blond hair was held back with a band that let it string down her back. Her pale blue hospital gown only served to highlight the pallor of her skin.
On the side of her bed hung a rather flat, rectangular plastic apparatus that was comprised of several chambers. The chambers were filled with drainage from her wound. Two thinner tubes came from her abdomen and went to other drainage containers on stands on the floor, and there was another bag for urine as well. Sticking out of her nose and secured with clear, stretchy tape, was a thick tube hooked to a suction machine on the wall. There were IVs in both arms, their tubing routed through machines that were set to deliver the correct amount of solution. Her arms were covered in purple bruises, and she had a big, padded dressing on her belly, which she showed him by lifting her gown. “I guess I really did a number on myself.” “Looks like you did, Sassy.”
Doug tried not to stare, suddenly remembering how beautiful Sassy had looked that night at the dance in The Butte. It was doubtful she would ever look that beautiful again and equally unclear if she would live. He knew as well as anyone who had hunted or been around firearms that gut wounds were the worst kind of wound, and that they usually resulted in a lifetime of problems, if the person who had sustained them even survived.
“That was a brave thing you did, shooting Adam.”
For a minute it seemed that Sassy was going to cry, but she composed herself and didn't.
“It's like I told you, Dougy. I realized—mostly after you talked to me—but even before that, that Adam had gone bad. Did you know he stole my amethyst hair clip and planted it in the barn for the cops to find so they would think it was me that tampered with Dan's plane? Adam told me that himself just last week. I asked him why he would do that to me—to his only sister after all I'd done to help him. Know what he said, Dougy?”
Doug didn't answer.
“He said, ‘better you than me’. That's when I knew he was too far gone for anyone to help him.”
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