Had someone been after him since his fake disappearance? Could Trip have been involved?
The middle of his brain vibrated, like a tuning fork, except he couldn’t hear it. They were having some fun sending little radio jabs.
At the car dealer, he’d seen people out of the corners of his eyes. When he turned, the ghostly figures had vanished. A guy on a motorcycle, just like the one he’d seen in Coral Gables, didn’t belong in that car lot. Was it the biker from before? They all looked the same to him. The motorcycle pulled out and followed for a while, then disappeared. Whoever was following him, no doubt they’d keep their distance until he found the money, then swoop in.
He sent a thought message: My cousin works for a secret government agency in a subbasement of the Smithsonian Institution. One phone call from me, and you’ll wish you’d never been born. No response, of course.
The door of an adjacent car slammed. A woman got out, pretending to look in the seat for something, then jumped back in when the light changed. Malcolm leered at her darkened window and laughed gleefully, slapping his thigh as she drove off. “I’m on to you people. I’m going to have every one of you killed.” Malcolm flinched at the sound of the car horn and jabbed the accelerator, lurching forward.
His face a rictus of hateful glee, he yelled, “You have no idea who you’re messing with.” He threw his head back and raised his eyes to the glass sunroof. “Forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Frantic laughter mingled with Malcolm’s garbled shouting and gesturing in heated, imaginary conversation.
There was nothing to do but go to Lake Creed and take the money back. He could deal with these bastards.
He drove to a construction supply distributor and went to the counter. A young man with a name tag inscribed “Carlos” appeared.
Malcolm took a deep breath to calm himself. “Carlos, I need a strong hard hat.”
“We list several made from a fiber-metal composition. They’re more durable than the metal ones, and they cost less.”
“No composition. I need a strong magnetic shield.”
“Then you’re talking aluminum or stainless steel?”
“Which is better?”
“The aluminum has the edge over stainless, I think.”
“That sounds like what I want. Can I have it in a plain color?”
“They’re in safety colors–red, yellow, orange, lime green. Of course, you could also have it unpainted.” He disappeared for a moment and came back with two shiny hard hats—unpainted aluminum in one hand, neon yellow in the other.
“The yellow is what I want.”
“I thought you’d say that.”
“People are so used to seeing that yellow color, so it’ll be less noticeable than the shiny one. Do you have thick aluminum foil?”
“No, but I have a couple rolls of stainless steel tape leftover.”
“That should work. Can you put all this in a plain bag or a box, so I can carry it to the car without it being seen?”
Carlos searched under the counter and came up with a cardboard box, avoiding eye contact. “I think it’ll fit in this.”
Back in his car, Malcolm put the hat on and glanced up at the power lines. “Read this, you bastards.” After stopping to buy an oversized bandanna, he covered both sides with the metallic tape and fashioned it into a flap under the hat to cover the back of his head, his ears and his temples. He aimed the BMW toward Lake Creed.
As he drove, he fished out the card Shivani had given him and dialed the office number. He didn’t leave a voicemail and called the cell number listed.
“Hello, Shivani speaking.”
“This is Malcolm Weaver. I’m on my way to Lake Creed.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’ve found them on my own.”
“That was fast, Malcolm.”
“If I say so myself. I won’t need your services. You can deduct for whatever time you’ve put in and refund the rest of my money. Hey, what’s that noise? Are you at a fishing tournament?”
“No, what you hear is the car radio.”
The sound of the announcer diminished, unintelligible. “Shivani, I don’t believe you. I heard what sounded like an announcer on a PA talking about prizes. He said something about Lake Istypo or something like that. Wait … Is that a lake near the town of Lake Creed? … You’re following the crooks that ripped me off, aren’t you? And you didn’t tell me. You found them through the spy system in the power lines, didn’t you?”
Malcolm growled, “Why aren’t you saying anything? In two hours, I’ll be there, and I’m going to find you and kill you. Then those bastards who took my money.”
Malcolm ended the call. Lake Istypo. That’s not exactly right but close.
Shivani’s gone into business for himself, and he’s going to die for it. Isn’t anybody on the up-and-up these days?
Chapter 21
Shivani stared up at the PA speaker mounted on a light pole and cursed his own carelessness. Chut marike! Idiot! Why did he answer his phone with that thing blaring? He’d been playing this guy Bill like a big fish, gently but firmly guiding him to the boat—and along comes Weaver. He’s likely to throw a firecracker in the water, and then nobody will win the prize.
Shivani dialed Bill as he walked from the dock to the parking lot. “This is Gupta. Yeah, I know you didn’t give me your number. Listen, we need to talk. Come to McDonald’s. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“I have no reason to talk to you.”
“Believe me, this is urgent. Do you know a man named Malcolm Weaver?”
Shivani sipped his McDonald’s coffee and leaned forward. “This all started when I overheard you at Billy’s Dog in Miami Beach, talking about embezzling from your employer.”
Bill paused, face reddening. “Oh, yeah. The fedora. You were the guy standing by the door. I knew there was something familiar about you. I was right. You are a scam artist.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. I’m an investigator who happened to learn about what you were doing. You must admit it wasn’t prudent for me to reveal myself to you earlier. The reason I’m doing so now is to help you, and of course I’d expect reasonable compensation for that.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m sure we can come to an agreement. We should talk about this later; we don’t have time now. But I’d like you to understand a few things.” Shivani held his palm up. “Please allow me to explain.”
Shivani continued. “In the bar, you mentioned Global Source Enterprises to the man sitting next to you, so I made a mental note of it. Later I paid a sales call on Malcolm Weaver and gave him my card, telling him I specialized in forensic investigations.”
Bill glared. “Do you? Specialize in forensics, I mean.”
Shivani returned a soft smile. “I specialize in whatever pays. I didn’t expect anything to come of it, but he did in fact call me later, after you disappeared and he had ‘vanished.’ He wanted a name one would go to in Miami for false IDs. He was playing it close to the vest, didn’t tell me much.”
Shivani leaned back, arching against the seat and lowering his chin to look Bill in the eye. “After the Miami Beach bar conversation, and before all the commotion, I had a feeling you were about to do something. I was right. I followed you from the company to your home and then to the RV dealer. I put a GPS device on the RV while you were inside paying for it.
“By the way, my real name is Raj Shivani. Here’s my card. I know you are Jake Foster, and your partner is Sharon Scott, alias Vicki Strauss. So let’s all address one another by our real names.”
“How do you know our names?”
“I found the false ID guy, and he gave me your details.”
Jake came to his feet and stood over Shivani. “You followed us here?”
“Not so loud. And please sit.”<
br />
Jake scanned the nearly empty room and lowered himself into the seat. Shivani shrugged. “I knew your location, so there was no need to follow. But Weaver was looking for you too, and not knowing what resources he had or how fast he could move, I decided to come to you.”
“But how did you manage to be in McDonald’s when I came in the first time?”
“I put a GPS on your Honda at the RV place when you took it in to be modified for towing. With that, I could find and follow you. I watched you and Sharon, or Vicki, buy the SUV. When you stopped for lunch, I put a GPS on it.”
“You must have a lot of GPS devices.”
“They’re an essential tool of the trade.”
Jake shook his head in frustration. “Why are you going on about this if we’re short on time? And what’s so urgent?”
“Almost done. I was behind you the first time you pulled in the McDonald’s lot. I slipped inside ahead of you while you stayed in your car looking at something.”
“My phone. A local map.” Jake’s face darkened. “So where’s Malcolm Weaver?”
“That’s why I called you. He’s made more rapid progress than I expected. He may have your Lake Creed address, and I think he’s on the way. My guess is he’ll be here in an hour.”
“Oh, man—Sharon and I need to leave this place, fast.”
“That would be my thought. I wanted to take the time to tell you the situation, but we must hurry now.”
“We?”
“You need me on your side.”
“What’ll this cost?”
“We have to go. Let’s talk money once we’re out of town. You can trust me. I’m not a greedy man.”
“You’ve caught me by surprise. I don’t mind working out something fair, but don’t think you’ve hit a big payday. I’m not agreeing to anything now.” Jake massaged his temples. “All right. I’ll call Sharon and tell her to pack, so we can fly. We’ve always known this day could come and we’d need to move fast.”
While they packed, Jake told Sharon about “Gupta,” whose real name was Raj Shivani, and that he was an investigator from Miami who’d found out about the fraud and then followed them to Lake Creed.
“So this guy managed to snag you at McDonald’s and proceeded to play head games with you? Unbelievable …” Sharon stopped loading her suitcase and straightened. “This is nuts. Why am I just learning about this guy now? Why are you letting him in on this?”
“I’m really sorry,” Jake said. “It’s hard to explain, but one day he was just a person I spoke to over coffee, and the next thing I know, he’s telling me he knows all about us. There’s really nothing we can do about that.”
“Unbelievable.” Sharon’s eyes flashed. “And now you just want to roll over and let him scratch your belly.”
“Just stop. We need to deal with this, not wish it away.” Jake pointed a finger. “He didn’t threaten, but the fact is he could blackmail us. I think he’s too clever to let us slip away from him. Also, he says he’s not greedy, just wants fair compensation. The adage about keeping your adversaries close will serve us well here. All that said, I have a good gut feeling about him.”
Jake’s gut felt anything but good at the moment as he watched Sharon’s face.
“Oh, great. Just great,” she said. “What about the SUV?”
“We’ll leave it here. The cop will think we’re still around.”
She resumed putting clothes in the suitcase. “We’ll need to watch Shivani. He’ll try to take us for all he can get.”
Shivani, Jake, and Sharon rode north from Lake Creed in Shivani’s car, orange groves on both sides of the highway. The perfume of orange blossoms tickled Jake’s nose, and he stifled a sneeze.
“How old is this car, Gupta?” Jake asked. “I can’t tell. Nowadays, you can never tell because they don’t change the body styles.”
“Name’s Shivani, remember? The car’s three years old. I thought a white Camry would be nondescript enough for what I do.”
“That it is. But the inside feels and smells brand-new, and it rides like a new car.”
“I try to take care of it,” Shivani said. “By the way, where are we going?”
Jake, in the back, leaned forward to Sharon in the passenger seat. She shrugged. “That’s a good question. We can leave the money in the safe-deposit until we feel comfortable coming back for it, but we shouldn’t go too far. How about we hang out for a while somewhere quiet, like Vero beach? With the SUV sitting at the house, Detective Skaffe is less likely to worry.”
“I forgot about him,” Jake said. “No, I’d better call him with an excuse. If he figures out we’re gone and didn’t tell him, that’s a problem we don’t need.”
Sharon’s phone rang.
“Hello, Rachel.”
She put a hand over the phone and whispered, “My sister.
“What’s going on?” Her smile of anticipation faded to a frown of concern. “Okay, we’re a few hours away. Can you hang on ’til we get there? … No, it’ll be soon after dark. Don’t cry, honey. We’ll be there soon. We’ll keep you safe.”
Sharon ended the call. “My sister thinks she’s in trouble. She says a car keeps driving back and forth on the road in front of her house, about once an hour. The driver looks over each time he goes by. A skinny guy in an old brown car.”
“Does she recognize him?” Shivani asked. “Possibly a neighbor?”
“No. No one else lives on that road, which dead-ends in a few hundred feet. It might be the drugs making her panic, if she’s using and has run out. That’s what she sounds like.”
Jake dialed Detective Skaffe. The phone rang, and the call went to voicemail. He gazed at the run-down buildings they passed while he said, “Hi. It’s Lanny Foster. Detective, I’m sorry, but we had to leave town suddenly. Family emergency. We’ll call when we’re back.” He ended the call.
“Lanny Foster?” Shivani said.
Jake grinned. “Yeah, we gave him misleading versions of our real names. Seemed safer.” He leaned back in his seat and took a package of crackers from his shirt pocket.
He was eating one when Skaffe called.
“Hello … yeah, this is he … We’re in Ray City, Georgia. I hope that won’t get us in trouble …”
Jake frowned at Shivani. “Good. Of course, we’ll do that. I’ll check in with you every other day and let you know when we’ll be back. I’m not sure where we’ll be staying … Oh, really? Well, thanks for being so nice about it. We’ll be in touch.” He exited the call.
Shivani turned to Jake, then back to his driving. “What was that about?”
“It’s a long story about something that happened next door. I’ll tell you later when we’re not worrying about Sharon’s sister. The cop said not to worry, just keep in touch. Something’s come up on another investigation, and he won’t have time to talk to us for a while.”
Shivani adjusted the mirror so he could look in Jake’s eyes. “Investigation? If this involves the police, I want you to tell me now.”
“Okay, the short version is that a neighbor of ours fell and hit his head on the tile floor and died. This detective questioned us briefly and asked us to stick around. It sounds like something’s now happened to distract him.”
“The long version is messier, I’ll bet,” Shivani said.
“I’ll tell you all about it, just not now.”
Sharon turned to Jake. “We’re not going back, are we?”
“Later, only to take our money out of the bank,” Jake said. “I let Skaffe think we’ll be returning, but with luck, we’ll avoid him this time. It’s time to move on under our true identities. We’re better off using our real names, since Skaffe will be looking for us under the ones I gave him.”
Jake tapped Shivani’s shoulder. “Malcolm and Trip are looking for us as Bill and Vicki. We heard them while m
onitoring Trip’s phone. Malcolm’s abandonment and fake disappearance work to our advantage because it led to the collapse of the company. If they ever figure out the fraud, they’ll think it’s his work. I can’t see how we’d be suspected of anything.”
Sharon glanced at Shivani. “We’re vagabonds.”
Jake said, “How about you, Shivani? What’re you going to do?”
“I might as well go back to Miami when this is over. With my fee, of course.”
Jake leaned forward. “Your yet-to-be-decided fee. I guess you’ll be with us until we go back and retrieve the money.”
“Yes.”
Sharon’s phone rang again.
“Rachel? Are you okay?”
Her voice caught. “What? He’s just parked on the side of the road, staring? All right, here’s what you do. Remember the cave where we used to play, in the woods behind the house? Pay attention, Rachel. This is important …
“Okay, remember the cave? Good. Sneak out the back door and go hide in there. Take a tarp to put on the ground. Take a blanket too, and some food and a flashlight. Keep the house between you and the car so he won’t see you. Go back in the cave as far as you can. Be careful not to leave any signs on the ground in front …
“I’m sorry, honey, this is the best we can do. Do you want me to call the police? …
“No, I guess you’re right. The guy hasn’t done anything, so all they’ll do is talk to him …
“I understand you don’t want the police looking around in the house. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
Sharon hung up and sighed. “She’s agitated. She gets that way when she’s withdrawing. She doesn’t want the police. I hope she’ll be all right. Please go as fast as you can.”
Chapter 22
Malcolm Weaver pulled the BMW in the driveway at the address Jerry had given him for Bill Clawson. Tires squealing, he came to an abrupt stop behind the pearl-colored SUV. He removed his hardhat and metallic neck flap and slammed the car door as he stepped out, pistol in his hand.
He strode to the door, cursing. He pounded on the door and peered in the side window. Seeing no lights, no activity, he marched through the grass, gun in hand and still ranting, to the back of the house. Sweat dripping from his brow, he kicked in a bottom windowpane of the French doors. He gasped at the reflection of a pontoon boat moving slowly on the water behind him. He’d attracted attention from a group cruising nearby. The driver drove parallel to the shoreline while he talked on a cell phone. He opened the throttle wide when Malcolm pointed his gun.
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