Colton Banyon Mysteries 1-3: Colton Banyon Mysteries (Colton Banyon Mystery Book 20)

by Gerald J Kubicki

“You don’t tell me how to do lawyering; I don’t tell you how to do persuading,” Billy had answered.

  Duggan had once met Jones in the office in Atlanta, and knew that Jones was a hard man. “He is a tough old coot. I may have to work him over some.”

  “Just so’s you get the addresses.”

  Duggan had flown to Jacksonville and paid a social visit to Mr. Jones. He was polite and told him they had the codes. Jones demanded that Duggan give them to him. He raved on about what it could mean for the cause and how there was more to the book then Duggan suspected. Jones told Duggan that he was the only one who could access the accounts. He assured Duggan that he would be well compensated for his help. That was when Duggan hit him.

  It had taken three days and various amounts of torture to convince Hal Jones to talk. Jones now had fewer teeth—Duggan had extracted some with pliers—fewer fingernails, and a huge headache. In the end, Jones had agreed to write down the locations of the six banks. Duggan had been careful not to harm his writing hand.

  Duggan passed on only three of the bank locations to Billy. He knew Jones would not tell anyone, especially the police. He promised to come back and visit Jones after he collected the money, or if the information was false.

  As Duggan passed the Alabama state line, he was feeling pretty good about his future.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Colt and Loni stopped for lunch in Missouri. Colt pulled up to a barbecue joint and noticed that Loni had scrunched up her face and stuck out her tongue. They went to the pizza place next door.

  They were now cruising through southern Missouri. The music was on low and they both were quiet. She was doing something on her laptop. She shifted so her back was against the door and sat in a lotus position with the laptop angled away from Banyon.

  “Playing solitaire?” he asked.

  “Not really,” she answered with a giggle.

  “Well, you can’t be surfing the internet out here.”

  “No, I’m watching a movie that I downloaded earlier.”

  “But there is no sound.”

  “If you heard the sound, you would know what I am watching.”

  “Okay, let me guess. You are watching sports, right?” He knew that she would never watch sports.

  “Yeah, I would say that it is a sport,” she said coyly.

  Colt had often played Twenty Questions when driving along the highway. It helped to make time pass. “Are the players professionals?”

  “Yeah, I think so,” she smiled.

  “Is it a team sport?”

  “From what I have seen, only sometimes.”

  “So, is it or isn’t it?” Her answer confused him.

  “Not usually,” she replied.

  “So it is individual competition,” he remarked. “Do they wear uniforms?”

  “That would be a no,” she answered, staring at the screen.

  “Do men and women play?”

  “Most definitely.”

  “Okay,” he said. “I know what you are watching.”

  She seemed startled that he knew. “You’ll not guess correctly,” she warned.

  “What do I get if I do guess correctly?” he retorted.

  “Anything you want, baby,” she taunted him.

  “Okay, you’re watching Texas Hold ’em poker,” he confidently responded.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry that you guessed wrong.” Disappointment registered in her voice.

  He thought for a minute then said, “Okay, now you have to give a hint.”

  “Dr. Thorne,” she said.

  “What? That’s not much of a hint,” he replied.

  “Both these women have what she has: a tongue stud.” She turned the screen toward him, exposing two naked women writhing on a bed. “You promised to show me some websites about this. But you forgot, so I found some myself.” She acted as if she had taught him a lesson.

  He was instantly aroused. He was about to ask her if she liked what she saw when his cell phone rang. His palm was sweaty as he flipped open the phone. “Colton Banyon,” he said in an unsteady voice.

  The phone call was from his banker. The banker informed Banyon that someone had tried to access his accounts several times. The hacker had his account numbers and tried to get into all of them. Bank security quickly noticed the repeated attempts on all his accounts and notified the banker. The banker wanted to assure one of his best clients that he had secured Banyon’s accounts but he needed to make sure Banyon had protected his passwords.

  Banyon told the banker he kept his passwords in his head and stored his account numbers only on his computer. He then inquired if his money was safe. Reassured that his money was untouchable by hackers, he thanked the banker for the call.

  Loni had seen Banyon suddenly become serious and closed the laptop. As soon as he terminated the call, she asked. “Colt, what happened?”

  “It seems that someone has tried to hack into my accounts. The accounts numbers are only listed on my computer in my office. I think someone has broken into my house,” he said, his forehead creased in worry.

  Loni quickly flipped open her phone and reached over to touch his arm. “Colt, it will be alright. I’ll take care of everything.”

  “You’d better have your office checked, too,” he said.

  Loni dialed a number and began talking.

  “Carl, yeah, I’m fine. I can’t talk now. Maybe when I get back, okay? Right now, I need your help professionally. I need you to go to Colt’s house. Go to the office and see if you can detect a break-in. Also, use the scanners and see if there are any bugs. Someone has gotten account numbers from Colt’s computer.”

  She listened for a few seconds, and then said good-bye and turned to Banyon. “Detective Heinz is on the case.”

  He didn’t say anything for several minutes. “We need to go to plan C.”

  Plan C meant that they had to drive straight through and camp out at the post office before it opened in the morning. Banyon reasoned that whoever broke into his computer would have access to all the information about the book, especially their current destination. The hacker would also know where he and Loni would be staying. The hacker would not know what kind of car they were driving because he had picked a car rental agency off the Web.

  Banyon planned to be at the post office the first thing in the morning. He then asked Loni to drive for a couple of hours so that he could nap. She agreed and told him he could put his head on her lap this time. He declined.

  Loni cancelled the motel reservations as she drove. She wanted to call Dr. Thorne but decided against it, as Dr. Thorne would start issuing orders and asking detailed questions. Loni didn’t have answers, just questions of her own. She called Carl on his cell phone but he didn’t answer. She left a sweet message but it lacked sincerity. The truth was that she and Carl were having problems. Neither one seemed to be able to communicate with the other. She would stare at him and concentrate, but not understand what he was trying to say. She would jump in and complete his sentences and he would get mad. They also were always vying for the dominate position in the relationship. She had to keep her guard up all the time and was getting tired of it. She wished he could be more like Colt.

  She had driven for three hours, and had soul-searched her life, when her stomach suddenly announced that it needed food. She pulled off the highway and into a restaurant parking lot. Colt was still asleep in the next seat. She found herself wondering more and more about Colton Banyon. He had many of the qualities she admired in a man. He was her best friend and was always there when she needed him. But she always felt he could not control himself around beautiful women, especially the Patel sisters. That made her furious. At times, he made her weak in the knees, but she controlled herself by overtly flirting with him. He always seemed to back down when she did that. During their trip to China, she realized that no matter what, Colton Banyon was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She wondered if he ever thought about her.

  She suddenly realize
d that she was on the verge of tears, and didn’t even know why. All she wanted to do was crawl up into Colt’s lap and rest her head on his shoulder. He would help her, if only she could tell him what she thought. She was now crying and Colt was awake and staring at her.

  “Loni, what’s wrong? Did I sleep too long?”

  “You sure know how to show a girl a good time,” she replied through her tears.

  ***

  It was after two-thirty in the morning when they finally found the post office in Mobile. The dinner had been fine. Loni had gone to the restroom and come back looking a lot better. At least she had stopped crying. About halfway through the meal, Carl had called with disturbing information. He’d found bugs in the phone and the scanners had picked a sophisticated e-mail relay hooked to Colt’s computer. They also found the same at the office. Carl traced the signal to a tree in the forest preserve, where he found a transmitter and receiver. Carl told Loni that this was serious surveillance equipment, and whoever tagged them was well trained. Loni filled Colt in on the details and then walked off with her phone to talk to Carl.

  The remainder of the drive to Mobile was spent in serious discussion. Mostly, they tried to figure out who had broken into Colt’s computer. They both believed it was the Yakuza and decided to be extra careful around any Japanese they might meet in Alabama. The destruction from the hurricane became the serious topic as they neared the coast. They passed piles of wood where houses once stood. The roads were clear but Colt could see that repairs were needed. Driving at late night was bad enough, but with electricity still spotty in some areas, it was downright spooky.

  When they found the post office in Mobile, Banyon considered finding a new motel, but decided they would be more secure if they just stayed in the jeep until dawn.

  A groggy but determined Colt said, “Loni, you climb into the back and get some sleep. I’ll take the first watch.”

  “I’m the one with stakeout experience,” she replied. “Besides, you have been driving since early this morning, except for a few hours. You sleep.”

  “Okay, but no crying on stakeouts,” he said.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  A warm sun awakened Banyon. The first thing he did was look at his watch. It was 6:30 a.m. He then bolted upright and searched for Loni. He found her leaning against the right front fender. She was polishing her nails. She had on a different outfit, as well.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” he scolded as he rolled out of the jeep.

  “So this is how you look in the morning,” she quipped.

  “You look fresh and you’ve even changed your clothes. Don’t tell me I was so tired that I missed all that.”

  “Actually, I showered, as well,” she replied smugly. “The motel right over there let me use one of their rooms which had hurricane damage. But the shower still works just fine. They only charged me half price and there is no receipt.” She then flashed him the key. “It’s Room 103,” she said.

  Banyon hustled across the street and cleaned himself up. Then he dropped the key off at the desk while inquiring about coffee. Twenty minutes after he left, he returned to the car with coffee and a box of doughnuts.

  “What’s this?” Loni asked, eyeing the box.

  “We’re on a stakeout,” he replied. “Got to have doughnuts.”

  “I won’t eat them,” she said.

  “Good. More for me. Did you see anything last night?”

  “Just a couple of cars. Nobody walking and no Japanese, either.”

  At 8:05 a.m., they stormed the post office on Ocean Avenue in Mobile, Alabama. The large black woman behind the counter looked bored already. Banyon strolled up to the service counter. “Can you help us? We’re looking for somebody.”

  “Aren’t we all, sugar?” she retorted.

  “This woman is very old and we think she has a post office box at this branch. She doesn’t have an address and it is vital that we find her,” he said.

  “We don’t give out no personal information,” the woman declared as she crossed her large arms over her ample breasts.

  “Please, help us. At least tell us if she has a mailbox here. We are private investigators. We have been hired to find her. With all that has happened here, wouldn’t your family be worried?”

  The woman placed her hands on her wide hips and looked angry. “Leroy, get your boney butt up here,” she yelled over her shoulder. Presently, a skinny old man shuffled to the front counter.

  “What’s the name?” she demanded.

  “Her name is Sofia Kerns,” replied Banyon.

  “Leroy, you know a Sofia Kerns? She be an older woman.”

  “She got a box here, alright,” Leroy said. “But I ain’t never laid eyes on her. Some dude picks up her mail.”

  “Can you describe him?” Banyon asked.

  “I can do better. His name is Purser. Always comes on Friday at ten o’clock in the morning. He’ll be here today, come to think of it.”

  “Great. How will we know him?” Banyon asked.

  “Man, he always wears a name tag. That’s hows I knows his name. He is always dressed in an all-white suit. I think he may be military or something.”

  Back in the jeep, the debate raged.

  “He could be a nurse or a doctor,” said Banyon.

  “I think he is a relative and in the Navy. There are a lot of Navy bases around here,” retorted Loni.

  “Maybe he just likes to wear white suits.”

  “Yeah, with a name plate,” Loni answered.

  At a little after ten, a cab pulled up to the curb and a man in a white suit climbed out of the back seat. Not only were his clothes white, but his shoes were white, too. He said something to the cabbie and went inside the post office.

  Loni and Colt got out of the car and walked up to where the cab was waiting. Five minutes later, the man came out of the post office and headed to the cab. He was young—under thirty—and looked fit in his tailored suit.

  Loni took the lead this time. “Excuse me,” she said as he headed for the cab. She flipped her hair and he stopped dead in his tracks.

  “And what can I do for you?” he asked in a sweet voice as he turned towards her and removed his white hat.

  Colt instantly knew that his name wasn’t Mr. Purser. He was a purser, but for whom?

  “I understand that you collect the mail for Sofia Kerns.” Loni used a direct approach.

  “Her, and a few others,” he replied.

  “It is important that we talk to her. Can you tell us where she lives?”

  “Sure, she lives onboard.”

  “Onboard what?” Loni inquired.

  “The Careb, of course. She has been our guest for over a year now. She has me pick up her mail whenever we are in homeport. She never leaves the cruise ship.”

  “She lives on a cruise ship?”

  “Many old people do. We can offer them complete luxury for just about the price of a good old nursing home. She lives in one of our largest suites.”

  “Can we follow you to the ship so we can talk to her?”

  “Just take this road all the way to the end.” He pointed down the street. “You can’t miss the ship. It is the only one in port. I have to go. We leave again at four o’clock.” He jumped into the cab and was gone.

  They returned to the jeep and Banyon slid behind the wheel.

  “Well that explains why she has no address,” exclaimed Loni.

  “And we also know that she is still alive,” Banyon added as he started the jeep. “Let’s go find her.”

  Banyon didn’t pay attention to the small car that pulled out two cars behind them. If he had, he would have recognized the Japanese man behind the wheel.

  James Duggan was further up the street. He’d been there all night and had high-powered binoculars trained on the Banyon jeep. He noticed that another car pulled out behind Banyon and now knew someone else was following his prey. Duggan decided to eliminate the competitor as soon as they got to the docks. The listening devi
ce he’d placed on the Banyon vehicle during the night was working fine and he knew where they were going. He fired up his car and dropped it into gear. As he hit the gas, the car became very sluggish. He returned the gearshift to “park,” opened the door, and ran around to the right front tire. He starting swearing up a storm and kicked the fender of his truck. Someone had slashed the tire and it was flat. The back right tire was slashed, as well. He had a good idea who had done it.

  ***

  After a few blocks, Banyon could see the colored smoke stack of the cruise ship. As they drifted farther down the quiet street, he realized that downtown Mobile was small. The ship now loomed large in the windshield. He saw a sign for ship parking and pulled into the multi-level garage. There were people everywhere. Some were coming from and some were going to the ship. Banyon had been on cruises before; he knew about the orchestrated flow of people the cruise company maintained. He judged that the ship could hold maybe two thousand people, which meant that four thousand people were coming and going at ten-thirty in the morning. He pulled up to an area marked “embarkment” and stopped the car.

  “Loni, you go and find us a way to get on board. I’m sure that you can’t just walk on to the ship. I’ll park the car and meet you inside.” She grabbed her purse and jumped out the door, happy to be on a mission. Banyon hunted for a parking space.

  When he entered the large service facility, he saw Loni. She was frantically searching for him.

  “They won’t let us on the ship,” she declared. “It’s company policy and there are no exceptions.”

  “I thought that would be the case,” he replied. He thought for a second then asked, “Do you have your passport with you?”

  “Yeah, why do you ask?” a frowning Loni said.

  “Call the cruise line and see if there are any rooms left. I’ll get in line. This is only a four-day cruise. It won’t be too expensive and we can leave the ship before it sails, but we must hurry.” He left her standing there with her mouth open. He had grabbed his passport from his office bag before leaving the car. He now clutched hers, as well. Five minutes later, Loni was at his side.